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#decided to save the heavier angst for something else
look-at-the-soul · 1 year
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Save yourself- Tommy Shelby x reader
So ages agooooo @runnning-outof-time posted a Kaleo song that I kept listening to over and over again, then @shelbydelrey made a cheating theme celebration 🎉 and I had been working since forever in both ideas but something was missing… until I decided to mix it and this came as the result.
K, I hope you like the result of using this particular song (Idk what idea you had in mind for it), but it gave me these vibes.💖
Isa, I couldn’t decide how to approach this particular theme, but Tommy cheating seemed to come to life by itself… and I hope it’s not too late to celebrate you 💕
⚠️ Cheating, angst
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Y/N removed the hat as she walked into the House of Watery Lane, feeling so much better than the previous night, she had to leave the Grand re-opening of The Garrison early after feeling unwell, but after some tea and crackers, the only food her stomach seemed to accept. Polly offered her house because it was closer and she didn’t want to disturb anyone or ruin the fun for them, Ada was finally visiting them, Arthur was the happiest she had seen him in a long time, proud of the new and flashy decoration, and Tommy… well he just was enjoying himself to take him back home just because she was tired and nauseous.
Opening the door, she found a scene she never wanted to see; Tommy, her Tommy in bed with not one, but two women.
It weighs heavier on one's heart
I could tell right from the start that sweet ones are hard to come across
Her heart stopped beating for an instant, while the realization was sinking in… there was an indescribable ache, so hard to breathe… imagining his arms around them, giving those women the same pleasure he gave her endless nights.
He was just as shocked as she was, and quickly he tried to get up, untangling himself from them, shit, what did he do? Y/N didn’t deserved that. As she felt her stomach up in her throat, she couldn’t watch them anymore.
Snapping fast from her trance, she found herself turning around, strangely calmed, a realization hitting her like a bullet, heartbeat now drumming against her ribs, her fingers felt numb, clumsy, as if she had a big cloud inside her head.
She wasn’t going to make a huge drama out of it, she wouldn’t ask for explanations, she didn’t feel like listening to lame excuses to justify his actions. No, she walked out of there in silence, with her heart shattered into million pieces, yes, but she would get over it, just like she had been all of her life.
Tommy rushed to get dressed, shouting for her to wait, he would ask for forgiveness, beg on his knees, tell her it was just a mistake. Fumbling with his pants, he picked up his peaky cap from the floor, breaking an empty bottle of whiskey as he stumbled. Trying hard to tuck in his shirt inside of his pants, but she was gone already. She was the best thing of his fucking life and he ruined.
Heart like yours is rare to find
Someone else's gain will be my loss
Revenge could come in different forms, she could’ve steal all the money from the safe in their room or the one in his office, fuck him over, force him to buy her expensive presents to make it up for it all, she could fuck anyone right there in front of him just to give him back what he did. Anyone would suggest make him pay, make him beg and watch him suffer…
But she wasn’t going to make an scandal. No, her reaction was much lethal than that.
She would leave in silence, without tears, without shouting, no pointing fingers.
He turned out to be just like his father, she knew that would kill him, the comparison.
Choose your words before you speak
Can you see that all you've got is time?
Tommy rushed down the street cursing at himself, feeling the worse headache forming and found her in their bedroom, a single travel bag over the bed, she was calmly folding her clothes.
Just as she packed their bags to go to their country house.
“Y/N please.” Tommy pleaded desperate.
His words meant nothing now, all of those empty promises, the dreams they had together… gone.
Seeing her like that was worse than hear her shouting, breaking things, yelling at him. That would’ve been the expected reaction after what she saw. But she wasn’t even crying or hitting him, he deserved that.
He’d have preferred that, a million slaps than this.
She took a moment to check her belongings and walked towards the dresser to retrieve her passport and important papers. She arrived to this house with just a few things and she would leave just about the same.
“Y/N… nothing I could say could repair what I did, but I swear it meant nothing, it was a mistake, I was so drunk…” she wasn’t even listening to him anymore, it was just a buzz in the back of her mind. “I lost control…” he drank a lot, mixed it with an obscene amount of snow, didn’t even realize…fuck.
Walking into the nursery, she went directly to the first drawer and carefully, took a blanket that Polly knitted for the baby, the nappies and the rabbit that Ada bought for their unborn child. Yeah, she really didn’t need all those expensive gifts he gave her.
“I’ll go somewhere else, you can stay here I won’t bother you,” Tommy kept babbling while she walked past him, back into the bedroom they once shared.
Still in complete silence.
He knew Y/N better than the palm of his hand, he knew he should stay away right now, but he needed her to stop packing, this silent treatment only added more worry and stress to his already altered heart.
And that was the only time she dared to look at him in the eyes, making him wish she never did. Shoving away his hand from her body as he tried to reach her.
Tommy deserved a slap, deserved to have his balls cut, but she wasn’t going to lose time in that.
He started to see white dots when Y/N closed the bag, it wasn’t completely full yet and she seemed to be done.
And not just with the bag, but with him as well.
Tommy rubbed his hands all over his face, lost for words, feeling his entire world coming to an imminent end. It didn’t matter that he was stronger than her, in that very moment he felt so small, so useless, knowing that nothing he did, would make her change her mind.
But he tried, he tried to grab the bag from her hands as she stood at the top of the stairs, still begging for forgiveness.
“Fine, I don’t need that either.” She wasn’t even going to try to fight him over the bag, especially not close to the stairs, she just wanted to leave.
She knew she deserved better, not because she was someone important, but because she knew her value and she wanted respect, simple as that. Birmingham could be his territory, but he wasn’t her owner.
“No no, Y/N, listen to me please…” he rushed down, to stop her from opening the door.
But she was determined to leave, with or without the bag, of course that wasn’t going to stop her.
Before she met him, she had several wooers, with better intentions than him, but he was determined to make her fall for him, and that was the greatest mistake of her life.
Oh darling, save yourself for someone else
“We’ve a story together, Y/N, please…”
Save yourself
Oh, won't you save yourself?
“You can’t take away my child!” He snapped breathlessly, panicking because he was running out of time, of reasons to make her stay.
Are you going to break?
The look Y/N gave him, could’ve easily turned him into stone, a sarcastic smile playing in her lips.
“Now it’s a good time to remember you have a baby on the way, should’ve think of that last night, don’t you think?”
Y/N ripped the bag from his hand.
It would be just her baby and herself, away from this life, away from the risks, away from his lies.
She was unsure of a lot of things, but there was one around her mind in that very moment, sometimes you need to save yourself.
The worst part of it, was that Tommy knew deep down, that Y/N would be better off without him.
***
Master list
As usual, your thoughts are my favorite part 💕
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @ange-thoughts @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik
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cheemscakecat · 19 days
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Missing in Action 6
Chapter 6: Strange Dream, New Favorite Memory
TW: Heavier Angst. Scout has some awful, awful brothers. But Spy is a real one.
Jeremy went to bed in a better mood than he’d had in a long time. He was so glad that the new Spy was such a nice guy. And such a great cook too. Though, somethin was going on and he didn’t feel like making food. And from how the newbie was actin, it was something serious.
Well, it wasn’t Scout’s business, so he decided not to tell the others unless he had to. They really weren’t the type to badger Spy into cooking for them.
Jeremy felt so relaxed and lost in thought that he crawled right up in that bed without realizing it. It surprised him when he found himself curled up in his blanket. He hadn’t wanted to sleep in a hot minute, even on the night he cried. Aw Hell, he wan’t complainin.
————————-
The dream started out with an old recurring nightmare of his. It was one he’d gotten used to a long time ago, so it was more annoying than scary. Especially since he had to sit through it before anything interesting and new happened.
Jeremy dreamt that he died, and none of his stupid brothers cared. Ma was real upset, and trying to get his funeral and stuff sorted out, but none of his siblings would help. They definitely weren’t gonna cry over him. Cause he’s the runt. Runts die all the time, it’s just piddly women who bother to feel bad and save them. Whatever.
Since it was such an old dream, current Scout could still have his opinion on what was goin on, but his younger self was the character in the dream and reacted like he always did back then. He was cryin and trying to help Ma from beyond the grave, since there wasn’t a **** brother man enough to make it easier on her. And he didn’t know about Spy yet, so he wasn’t with the brothers ignoring Jeremy’s death.
It looked like Scout woke up, but all his stuff was laid out like when he first got hired at RED. He got up and went to the bathroom so he could splash water on his face and hide his tears. It worked, but he wasn’t getting a hold’a himself right so he wandered into the hall.
People were always used to Jeremy being loud. Most never knew he could be quiet. Younger Scout aimlessly made his way around base and tried not to wake the rest’a the team. Then he noticed a light.
Spy’s smoking room. The door was slightly cracked, so he could let smoke out and stink up the rest of base with it. But that meant Spy was awake, the only teammate who would be at that hour. Medic was crazy, but he’d never give up a chance to round up the doves and go to sleep to ‘em making their weird bird noises. Engineer needed all the sleep he could get. But Scout knew from those 6 months in prison that Spy didn’t sleep most nights.
His younger self hesitated near the door, tryin to decide whether he should be a baby and talk with Spy, or keep walkin. Before he could make up his mind, the door opened and he locked eyes with Spy. They stared at each other with the same amount’a surprise. Younger Jeremy choked out something, anything to fill the loud silence.
“Aw, crap. Am I that noisy?” “Not in the slightest. But people in this line of work learn to feel eyes on them.” **** invisible show off. Younger Scout nodded to try and play it cool, and started to walk away so the deadbeat couldn’t see he’d been cryin.
“Would you like to come in?” He paused. Older Jeremy remembered that he didn’t always know he could go in the smoking room, or that anyone else on the team was allowed in there. This must have been during that time, cause his younger self looked at Spy with hopeful eyes.
The musty, smokey wooden room was nothing special to the current Scout, but his younger self was looking around like a kid in a candy store. Spy pulled over another chair and gestured for him to sit. Young Jeremy did, but went quiet afterwards. He didn’t know what to say.
Back then, he was afraid that the other teammates would laugh at him like his brothers. Or worse, think he was so weak that he should be fired, and then he’d be back in Boston stuck in his cycle of getting hired and fired. And Ma probably wouldn’t be surprised. He couldn’t look Spy in the eye.
“I presume that whatever is bothering you, you would prefer not to speak of it with a shady Spy.” Not a selfish *** deadbeat like you. Older Scout thought. Spy looked at his side table and there was a smaller cutting board with meat, cheese and bread.
“Perhaps this is not a time for eating, but you’re welcome to this if you can stomach it.” Younger Jeremy didn’t say anything for a minute. “Nothin’s wrong. I just can’t sleep.” His voice was firm and harsh, but he and Spy didn’t believe his weak lie. Spy chose the fast-food parenting route of talkin even though Scout wasn’t in the mood.
”You would not be the first. Many mercenaries uninvolved in wars prior to joining RED have suffered nightmares when they arrive. The feeling of respawning is a difficult thing to get used to.” Jeremy flinched and stared into the fire. Spy shrugged and got up.
“I may have something that will help.” The old fart poured him a glass of scotch and offered it to him. Younger Scout hesitated to take it, knowin it was fancy stuff. “Trust me, there is nothing you could possibly do drunk in here that the Demoman or Soldier has not.” That convinced him enough to take the cup and down the alcohol like medicine. He found the fire more relaxing after it kicked in.
—————————-
Jeremy woke up with the dream still on his mind. That didn’t usually happen unless… it was one of those dopey “half-memory type dreams”. He stared at his door and groaned as he realized it was a real memory. Back in Siberia he had a more twisted dream about himself waddling around on the carpet as a baby, with his Ma and current Spy seducin each other. Gross.
He checked the clock and decided it was late enough that he could go to the training room without wakin folks up and getting yelled at. He’d go punch something and get this dumb memory out of his mind in no-time.
A few hours later, new Spy came in with a stabbing knife and no shirt. Jeremy didn’t look at first, but his stupid need to compare himself to other guys drove him to study Spy more close.
New Spy was tall and skinny, but he was no toothpick. He had abs and broad shoulders, with arm muscles that poked out more than Jeremy’s ever did. He hated the part of him who got jealous of people his age. At least with Sniper, he smelled like pee and looked old as Hell, so Scout could bury his annoying thoughts easier. Otherwise they never shut up.
Engineer came in, but not to train. “Scout? There’s somebody tryin’a call ya. You got time to answer?” He nodded. It was probably Ma callin to check up on him, or Pauling with a new task.
———————
Jeremy took a deep breath. Ma had probably heard from Spy about what happened, but she hadn’t tried to confront him over it. He wasn’t gonna complain about Spy or act pitiful about getting rejected by Pauling. Nobody knew about that, not even Ma. The nice thing was, if Pauling did call him and shut down any attempt to talk to her like she had always done before, he wouldn’t have to play normal so long.
“Hey, this is Scout. What’s up?” “Ay tiny! Guess who?” Kevin. One of his three crappier brothers. Ma musta tried to put him up to callin, so he could be nice for once and check up on him. He kicked himself for not calling her more the past few weeks, she musta been worried. They only bothered to speak to him if he was in Boston and failed to time it right so he could visit Ma in peace.
He wished it was Frankie or one of the other “I got better and now you’re all below me” brothers. They would at least pretend to care, on principle. But Kevin was still a gang member and all around jerk.
“Say hey, Danny and Pete are here too!” Oh great, all three gang brothers together to mock him in one place! “Dan. Petey.” Jeremy was starting to wonder if Ma was trying to tell Frank or somebody to call him, and his idiot brothers overheard. They probably stole her phone or locked her outta the house just to pull this. But maybe not. Maybe they weren’t in a chatty mood.
“Aw, don’t be like that pipsqueak, we’re ‘worried’ about ya! Ain’t we fellas?” Kevin said in his sarcastic tone. The others chimed in with just as fake’a friendliness. That meant they were definitely in a chatty mood. Whatever they knew, it mayst been hilarious to them. Jeremy needed to be ready to stop himself from reacting to their jabs.
“What do you want, Kev. I have work to do.” Scout was a lot better at lying now, and being over the phone helped. The sooner he hung up without giving them more ammo to make fun of him, the better.
“Heard ya finally found yer daddy. What kinda thing is he? A gnome? A bunny rabbit?” Yeah, Ma wouldn’t’a told them on purpose. He hoped she couldn't hear them, since she dated that bozo once. It wasn’t right to clown on Spy around her.
“He’s a cigarette, actually. One that got sun-bleached in a dirty parking lot. It’s a miracle I don’t smell like him.” They wanted him to get mad, and he wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction. He needed to stay calm and keep firing back like it didn’t matter to him.
“Ay Mi-Mi, did ya stomp him into the pavement? I wanna see how that went down!” They were just gonna keep digging for a nerve the longer he talked to them. But if he hung up at the wrong time, It’d show that they’d found one. And then they’d never shut up.
“Naw, but he musta been scared that I was gonna; rolled right into a dirty sewer drain like a coward. Squealed like a piggy on his way out.” That turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to say. The phone erupted into mocking cackles and loudly echoed in the hall outside the training room.
“Brush, he left! Oh my God, he still didn’t want ya!” Jeremy froze, which only left them without a response and let them know they had finally gotten to him. But he had to be quiet or he was gonna cry or start yelling, and that would only make them more satisfied with what they said.
More heartless laughter and insults rattled out of the phone, and Scout was so distracted that he didn’t notice new Spy until he leaned in to talk into the speaker.
“Oh bonjour, je m’inquietais du manque de batards dans la base.” He said it in a weirdly happy tone, like the young version of an old lady who people make fun of ‘cause she can’t hear em. Scout didn’t know much French, but he knew old Spy used to curse more in that than in English, and “batards” was one of the rarer ones.
Jeremy found himself handing over the phone and staring as the new guy got insulted by his brothers. Spy kept respondin by sayin things that had to be insults, but in that same goofy higher pitched tone. And what was funny was that his brothers were too stupid to figure it out. They just assumed he was a dumb foreigner that they coulda robbed if he was there in Boston.
“Hell yeah, keep talkin little man! You one’a Scout’s dopey friends or somethin?” This time, Spy turned to Jeremy right before replying. “Vous etes tellement immonde que vous plonger dans le beurre comme escargot creerait une bouillie brune. Rat des rues degoutant.” Newbie hunched over and curled his free hand like a big New York rat while he spoke.
Scout tried so hard not to snicker at that, but when his brother started running his mouth again, Spy swung his hips like a sassy lady and made the funniest face he’d ever seen in his life. He burst out laughing so hard that his annoying brothers could hear it.
“Ay! What’s so funny?” Spy leaned against the wall and then posed like a toddler with his butt out and his free arm dangling. “Mon Dieu, le petit frere t’a offense, mon petit cochon? Quel dommage qu’il s’amuse de tes reniflements.”
Jeremy could not stop laughing, and could barely breath. The new guy was still takin that fake cheerful tone with Kevin, who was getting angrier and angrier. And hearing him getting butt-hurt made him and the other two less… heavy on him. Not like they were scary, just less of a hurdle. They were getting clowned on by a skinny French guy with real long hair.
Young Spy walked like a sheepish and ditzy housewife from TV and cupped his hand over the phone, like he was tryin to stop the brothers from hearing. But he spoke up real good. “Oh la la, je crois que la poubelle est en train de s’offusquer. C’est preseque commes s’il pouvait me comprende!”
“Now listen here, you stupid Frenchie! I know you can understand us! What’s your problem?” Spy suddenly looked angry, and Scout realized he’d been angry this whole time, and mocking his brothers was how he’d been dealing with it. He started talking in pitch perfect English and his naturally deeper voice.
“No, you listen street filth. You have a wonderful brother that is a competent mercenary and good friend to his team. And I am very much thankful that we got him instead of any of you. How dare you talk to him like he’s nothing? You are lucky that I caught you instead of the others here, because I do not want you dead for this. But Scout has friends here that could outperform your precious gang and you, no contest.
Do not call this number again, do you understand? I know you will say something hateful and stupid, and somebody scarier than me will hear it and come after you. And believe me pal, this Mercenary company can make sure you’re never found. Adieu!”
And with that, Spy roughly hung up the phone. Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that he’d switched from his thick French accent to a perfect Bostonian one somewhere in the middle of his threat.
———————
Merriam got her phone back from her three problem sons, who were acting all jumpy. They said some crazy French guy got on the phone with them and threatened them about joking with Scout.
Something was wrong. Antoine would never threaten her boys, even though she knew they deserved it. But from the details she forced outta them, he was acting like his younger self. Back before they dated, they were already friends and he would go to the bar with her.
He used to do the “naive foreigner” routine on guys at the bar that tried to start fights or wouldn’t leave her alone. It freaked them out because he’d switch from a real cheerful harmless tone in French to dead serious and speaking proper English. He stopped doing that years ago.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t contacted her in four weeks. She made up her mind to call his wife and let her know.
What did young Spy say to Scout’s trash brothers? [Used a translator, so this might be off.]
Oh hello, I was worried about the lack of *******s on base.
You are so foul that drenching you in butter like a snail would create brown slop. You disgusting street rat.
My oh my, did the little brother offend you piggy? How awful of him to be amused by your snorting.
Oh dear, I think the trash is getting offended. It’s almost like he can understand me!
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Note
hiya there! i love your work and i was wondering if i could request a Chishiya fic where its 3 times the reader almost kisses him and the one time he kisses them OR 3 times they almost confess their feelings and the one time Chishiya confesses his feelings. its up to you! :D
Thanks for you request! Here you go! 😉
Interrupted Confessions | Shuntaro Chishiya
{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}
{Main Masterlist}
Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Niragi, middle-aged woman from the second game, OC, Aguni, militants)
Summary: You and Chishiya keep trying to confess your feelings for one another, but something always seems to come between you when you finally get the chance
Warnings: drinking (reader), violence, mention of dying/death, guns, gunshots, panicking, mild angst
Word Count: 2.5k
*reader is gender-neutral
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Chishiya wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions, especially when it came to romantic feelings. He appeared so confident and smug most of the time, but if someone was to even give him a bouquet of flowers or wink in his direction, his sarcastic remarks become caught in his throat and he doesn’t know how to react.
He could tell that you held romantic emotions for him. He was a people watcher, so he knows how people act when they feel that way. For ages, he tried to ignore the fact that you liked him, but as time pressed on and he began noticing you a lot more during games and at The Beach, he could slowly feel himself develop feelings for you back.
He knew he had to tell you soon enough, but every time he tried to open up to you, the world just didn’t allow him to have the chance.
************
1st Attempt
The first attempt Chishiya had at trying to express his interest in you was at The Beach.
It was a usual late night, everyone dancing and singing on the big patio of the hotel, allowing themselves to indulge in the delusional thoughts of being safe and sound, not having to worry about their lives for the time that the alcohol infected their hearts and minds.
You had had a few drinks, beginning to feel a little light headed yourself. You had dragged Chishiya down to the bar with you, convincing him to keep you company due to not being able to find Kuina or Usagi. Chishiya gladly went along, wanting to make sure you didn’t over do it and end up getting yourself hurt.
You sat on a stool at the bar, leaning on the wooden bench and staring down into your empty cocktail glass. Chishiya leant on the bar next to you, scanning the crowd of rowdy and social people. It was entertaining, watching people being drunken idiots.
He glanced over to you as you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Chishiya,” you mumbled. “Have a shot. I feel bad for being the only one ordering. You’re making me look like an alcoholic.” You nudged a small glass filled to the brim with liquor in his direction, trying to encourage him to drink it.
Chishiya smirked as you looked at him pleadingly. He lifted his hand out of his white hoodie pocket and pet your head playfully. “No thanks Y/N. A matter of fact, I think you’ve had quite a bit.”
He could tell the intoxicating alcohol was beginning to get to you as he saw your eyes begin to gloss over. Your movements became a little more lazy and disorientated.
You pouted and looked into his piercing eyes that filled with the unfamiliar feeling of care and concern for you. “Just one more cocktail? We haven’t even been down here for long and you already want to leave,” you groaned, turning back to the bar to shout for the bartender.
Chishiya rolled his eyes and chuckled at you. You were lucky he liked you. If anyone else was to act the way you did around him, they would irritate him like no tomorrow.
Around half an hour later, Chishiya and you were strolling up the stairs to the roof, wanting to escape the chaotic ground level that pounded heavily as the bass in each song seemed to become more and more powerful, beginning to make your head hurt.
Chishiya and you giggled together as you tripped up the stairs slightly, being able to catch yourself before you face planted. Chishiya held a firm grip on your shoulders, making sure you don’t end up hurting yourself.
“You’re such a lil’ goose,” he laughed, turning his head towards you with a wide smile across his face, showing off his cute teeth. You smacked his cheek lightly, being embarrassed from his intense stare, considering how close his lips were to yours. “Shut up, you’re no better when you’re drunk. Last time you drank, I had to drag your ass up all these stairs like a baby. And you’re much heavier than you look.”
Chishiya laughed, and in a moment of bravery, he lifted a hand and gently stroked his knuckles across your face. Your skin was hot and soft under his touch, making him feel warm inside and gaze lovingly at you.
Silence took over the atmosphere, and you both stood still in the hallway together and stared into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but the warm lights made Chishiya’s skin glow beautifully, and you didn’t think he had ever looked so gorgeous.
“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I do something?” His heart was pounding so loudly, he was afraid you would be able to hear it through his chest. Why was he suddenly feeling brave?
You smirked and cocked your head to the side, pretending to not understand what he wanted. “And what would that be?” you questioned in a playful tone.
Chishiya took his arm off your shoulder and placed it against your other cheek, holding your face delicately in his hands so he could keep you looking at him. “This.”
Just as Chishiya was slowly leaning in to crash his lips onto yours, you both suddenly heard a deafening bang down the hall. The sound made you both quickly jump apart in fright, snapping your heads to see what caused the noise.
There stood none other than Niragi, having just kicked a young woman into the wall across from the room they came from. 
“Locking doors I see? What exactly do you have to hide?!”
Chishiya and you stood completely still as you watched Niragi stride over to the woman and grip a fist full of her hair, pulling her up and making her scream in pain.
“Y/N, come on,” Chishiya said quietly next to you, sounding rushed.
You looked at him confused. “What? We can’t just leave her,” you said, stumbling after him as he dragged you by your wrist, trying to pull you away from the scene.
“It’s not our business. She went against the rules, we can’t defend her.”
That wasn’t true. He could easily take on Niragi to help the girl, and so could have you. But considering your state at the moment, and Chishiya’s main concern being your safety around Niragi, he just wanted to leave to get you safe again.
Your safety was more important than a small kiss or saving a girl who broke the rules.
*************
2nd Attempt
Chishiya’s second attempt to admit his romantic feelings towards you occurred at a game together.
The game was held in an apartment complex. Luckily, you two had managed to be put into the same group, meaning you could work together to survive. Two militants from The Beach also joined you, one of them being Aguni. Chishiya and you knew you wouldn’t receive any help from them, so you decided to just stick to you two for this one.
The game was a five of spades. The players had to find a safe zone to turn off a bomb within the time limit without getting killed by the ‘Tagger’.
As soon as the game began, you suggested to Chishiya to go to the top level, as you would be able to get a good view from there and be able to determine the Tagger’s patterns and habits to take note when searching for the unlocked door.
You both stood at the end of the top floor, having a clear view of the many levels and seeing all the players scattered in different positions.
You felt your heart sink as you saw a middle aged lady with a handbag on one of the middle levels. She was alone, looking around confused. It made you guilty that you couldn’t do anything to help her.
“As usual,” you heard Chishiya mumble beside you. You glanced at him and saw him scanning the players before continuing. “Everyone looks like they’re about to die.”
You blinked at his statement, looking back over the edge of the concrete railing. The vast sea of darkness that became darker the further it was away from the game made you feel empty. It purely just appeared like a black hole, waiting to suck you back into it’s depressive atmosphere.
“Sounds about right,” you responded to Chishiya.
Chishiya turned his head towards you, feeling his white locks become tangled together from the wispy wind. He examined your features as you stared over the area, admiring the way your skin glowed in the fluorescent lights. He looked down to your legs, hearing your shoe lightly tap anxiously on the ground.
He slid closer to you on the railing, placing a soft hand on your thigh to still your shaking leg and placed his chin on your shoulder before speaking softly. “Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you.”
You turned your head slowly towards him, seeing your lips only inches apart once again. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “As if I need protection,” you teased.
Chishiya huffed, hiding his face in your hair in fear of you seeing the blush creeping onto his cheeks. You smiled at his movements. “You’re a bit clingy today, aren’t you?”
From that comment, Chishiya pulled his head back and looked into your eyes. His emotions were bouncing around his mind, making his heart beat quickly in confusion. Why couldn’t he just say it? Either of you could die at any time, why was he wasting time?
A piercing sound filled the air, and you gripped the back of Chishiya’s hoodie to roughly pull him to the harsh ground. Your reflexes went into overdrive as the gunshots rang. You glanced towards the hall on your right, in fear of seeing the tagger there. But luckily he wasn’t.
“Y/N, look.”
You looked towards Chishiya to see him standing over the railing again. You scrambled to your feet and stood beside him, following his line of sight.
A door a few levels down had several bullet holes around the sides of it. The tagger had tried to shoot someone there from a different level.
“He hasn’t done that yet. He’s trying to protect it,” Chishiya theorized. You nodded and pushed off the railing. “Come on, we don’t have much time left.”
You both quickly entered the lift and selected the floor the damaged door was on. 
As you both stood in silence, Chishiya’s words that almost poured out of his mouth before still rang in his ears.
‘I’m clingy because you make me feel safe.’
When will he ever have the chance again to tell you that?
He promised himself that if you both survived that game, he would confess to you before your next game. Because who knows what the game makers would make you do next? For all he knew, it could get you killed, and he would never be able to get to tell you how he feels.
************ 3rd Attempt
Surprisingly, Chishiya wasn’t the one to confess his feelings first. You were able to bring enough courage together to say it to him, but it wasn’t under the best circumstances.
He always envisioned his confession to you as being sweet and loving. He dreamed of telling you how he felt underneath the stairs on the roof, like a cliché romance movie.
But he didn’t get that chance.
You and him were huddled together in the corner of a trashed room. Chishiya held you tightly against his chest, patting your head to try and ease your rapidly beating heart and nervous breaths.
“Shh,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “It’s okay. This’ll be over soon, and we can leave. We can find somewhere else to go.”
Gunshots rang outside the door of the room you were hidden in. Chishiya felt you flinch at every bang, making his heart sink lower and lower. He hated not being able to comfort you, it made him feel sick almost.
The Beach had become a game arena. Aguni has demanded the militants to kill everyone on sight so he could find the witch the hard way. As soon as Niragi had yelled and shot several bullets to the ceiling, sending everyone into a sudden panic, Chishiya didn’t even give you time to think before grabbing your arm and dragging you hurryingly away from the lobby to hide from the militants. 
So there you were, trying to make yourselves as small as possible behind a turned over table in the corner of a pitch black hotel room. Chishiya thought it was best not to hide in his room or your room because the militants would look there first to find you.
Chishiya lifted his face from the top of your head to glance towards the door. He sobbed slightly in fear as he saw shadows through the small crack at the bottom of the door. People were running back and forth through the halls screeching for help, trying to escape the murderous militants.
He felt you wrap your hand around his upper back and tuck your face into his neck, causing your tears to make his sensitive skin wet, not that he really cared.
He sighed heavily, trying to relax into your touch. It was deemed impossible to be calm, but having you there with him brought him more relief than anything else could’ve in that moment.
Chishiya placed his cheek on your head, snuggling into you and inhaling your scent. “I-I’m sorry,” you mumbled out.
Chishiya frowned at your apology. “Why are you saying sorry?” he asked.
“I-I’m sorry,” you cried quietly again. “I’m so in love with you Chishiya, and I’m so sorry that I’ve waited until now to say it. But I’m afraid if I don’t, I won’t get another chance.”
Chishiya felt his heart stop in his chest. Silence fell over both of you, but then Chishiya placed a soft hand on your jaw to lift your teary face to face his.
“You idiot,” he laughed, tears still streaming down his smooth cheeks. “You’re an idiot. You should’ve told me this sooner, I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the exact same thing.”
His words only made you sob harder, pushing your face towards him to share a desperate kiss. It was messy and emotional, but that kiss alone was enough to make both of you understand how much you truly cared.
Whether you both lived or died at that moment didn’t matter to either of you, all that mattered was that Chishiya finally crawled out of his shell to let you in, and you had finally been able to create the courage to express what you truly felt about him.
*****************
3 Months Later...
The breeze flew gently past your body, making your skin develop small goosebumps at the cold feeling. Your eyes scanned over the vast ocean of water in front of you, almost being blinded from the morning sun reflecting off the surface.
You glanced behind you quickly when you heard light taps of feet against the grassy ground. Chishiya walked away from the tent and rubbed his eyes. He sat next to you, but not without giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Good morning baby,” he whispered into your ear. You smiled at the pet name, turning your head and placing your lips against his. “Good morning.”
1K notes · View notes
cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years
Text
Come Back Home
Pairing: Dick Grayson (DC Titans) x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death and miscarriage
Word Count: 4.5K
Summary: Years after the two of you broke up, Dick Grayson comes back to your life. But he doesn’t know you’ve been hiding a secret all this time.
A/N: @imcarolinashannon​ and I were talking about angst fics so I decided to write this. I probably might do a second part so if you want to be tagged in that then just send me a message or something
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Dick lounged comfortably in Donna’s living room. She promised to meet up with him but unfortunately, she was running late. Dick had no trouble letting himself in and laying down on her couch, waiting for her to get home.
He heard the door open and opted to stay silent, wanting to see her reaction when she realized he had broken in. Technically he hadn’t really broken in but used the key that she hid underneath the doormat.
He silently waited for Donna to come to the living room, feeling childish but at the same time anticipating it.
“Don?”
That wasn’t Donna’s voice.
“Don? You here? The door was left open…”
Dick stiffened. That voice. He’s heard that voice before.
“Don? I—” Your voiced cut off suddenly, whatever was in your hands slipped and fell to the ground. You barely even realized, just hearing a faint thump in the back of your head as the plastic bag hit the floor.
It had been so long.
Dick Grayson hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you had seen him. You on the other hand, looked like age had caught up with you, but in Dick’s eyes you looked as beautiful as the day he last saw you.
That day flashed vividly in his head. You looking beautiful and holding him close to your heart. The ache he felt that day. He couldn’t bear to say anything and break your heart. He couldn’t break your heart again. Saying goodbye to you while you were asleep. Leaving a note on the nightstand.
And then leaving without a second look back.
He never let himself rethink his decision. When he got drunk, he’d shed silent tears when he thought about you, but he’d never let himself call you up. When he got your letters, he’d keep them by his nightstand, but he’d never let himself read it. He feared he’d listen to you and come back.
He didn’t deserve to have you in his life again.
Looking at you again after all these years. He wondered if he made the right decision. He wondered if he should’ve just given into his selfishness. But beyond everything, the void in his heart was made that much more apparent to him when he noticed the way you were looking at him. It was guarded, but at the same time emotional.
It was like you felt something, but you didn’t want to show him.
It was like that for a few seconds, where you were just stuck staring at each other, frozen in time. Neither of you dared to move a muscle. It was calm, too calm. And the two of you were afraid that it would start a storm.
So just as quickly as you came, you backtracked and ran away.
“(Y/N) wait—!” Dick started, moving for you before he could stop himself. He couldn’t let you slip through his fingers. He just needed a few more minutes. A few more minutes to look at you and realize what he gave up. A few more minutes.
But you were already booking it down the hallway when he made it to the door. It was then he found the strength to stop himself. He had to. He couldn’t ask for you to wait. You probably waited a lot already. He couldn’t ask you to wait anymore.
So, he let you slip through his fingers again.
But this time it was him who had to watch you walk away.
And it was only then he realized how much it hurt to be left behind.
***
When the Titans split up you were the only one who remained in San Francisco. Waiting. Just waiting for someone to return. Anyone.
Everything happened so quickly. Garth was taken from you, as well as Jericho, and everything just changed in the span of a night. The family that you had built had broken and no one seemed to have the energy to put back the pieces together.
You remember the same monotonous days, the days where you couldn’t feel anything, when you just woke up to go back to sleep and slept to pretend that none of this ever happened. It was suffocating and exhausting, but you had no way to pull yourself out into the light.
You remember holding onto your fiancé a little tighter that night, your body shaking even though you weren’t cold. You remember sleeping a little heavier that night, as if your body couldn’t bear to wake up to this existence anymore. You remember feeling cold and empty.
You remember waking up to find the space next to you on the bed empty and you immediately knew what had happened. Dick had taken off. You had known it was coming, for a while now, but you couldn’t seem to believe it.
For a while you just stared at the note he left behind with an emotionless gaze. This week had been hell enough, what was another punch? At least things couldn’t get worse.
For a while you just held the note loosely between your fingers, not bothering to move from your bed. You knew you were supposed to be feeling sad, but your heart couldn’t afford it. You couldn’t feel anything anymore.
So, you just stood up from bed, moving unsteadily to the kitchen, not being able to process anything. You just went to the fridge and got yourself a glass of milk before going back to the couch and turning on the television. It was playing but you weren’t watching it.
The sorrow of losing your best friends and your fiancé didn’t hit you until a few days later. You ran out of milk and were looking for something else to drink. Opening the fridge reserved for alcohol, you grabbed whatever touched your fingers first.
An orange soda.
Then your gaze moved to the diamond ring sitting snugly on your finger. The bottle slipped through your fingers, falling onto the ground along with your body. You held yourself as you cried, screamed for someone to come back. For someone to save you through this loneliness.
You cried for what seemed like forever, until you felt dry and then you cried some more. You couldn’t even bring yourself to get off the floor, letting the sticky orange soda soak into your pants and the glass shards of the broken bottle sink into your legs.
Crying felt like the only thing you were capable of. You weren’t able to do anything else, even consoling yourself was far from your mind. All you could do was mourn the death of your friend and the death of your friendships.
Your breath left your body, your stomach churned painfully and your heart clenched in your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of saying goodbye. You just couldn’t do what the others had and leave your family in the past. You couldn’t bring yourself to.
So, you waited, for someone to return, for anyone to return. You waited and waited, until it had been engrained into your behaviour, until it had been the first thing you thought about in the morning and the last thing you thought about at night. You waited.
You knew the day would come when this void in your heart would be filled.
If you had just waited.
But you eventually gave up the hope of them coming back, you gave it all up. You figured they would never come back home. That they found new homes. That they forgot about you. At this point you wondered if even one of your family members would return.
Nothing could have prepared you for Donna’s phone call one day. She told you that she was back in town and wanted to see you again. Something told you it was too good to be true. Something else told you to give into your pride and bail on her like she did so many years ago.
But against your better judgement, you still agreed to meet with her.
You weren’t expecting to come face to face with the man who left you behind so many years ago. However unhealthy it may have been, you never let yourself think about how you were really feeling when this devastation hit you.
You never tried to identify your feelings.
Rather, you tried to distract yourself and move forward. And it had worked. Until you made eye contact with Dick and had to wonder whether you should break down, get angry and scream or just be happy and relieved to see him again.
It was something you couldn’t handle. You couldn’t even begin to think about it. You couldn’t.
So, you didn’t have to think twice when your legs stumbled back and sprinted out of Donna’s apartment and out of the building.
Only when you were safely back home did you stop running, ignoring the calls from Donna for the rest of the day and instead drowning your sorrows in orange soda, trying to forget this ever happened.
***
Donna eventually managed to track you down to your apartment where you were just laying around your couch. While you were feeling overwhelmed to invite her into your home you were also excited to just sit down and talk with her again.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Donna smiled, pulling you in for a hug, “It’s been so long. Nice place you have here.” She commented, taking off her coat as you shut the door behind her.
“Oh, it’ just your run of the mill, one-bedroom apartment.” You said absentmindedly, “You can look around if you want.”
Donna did exactly that, moving to the passageway and then towards the one bedroom. The door was closed and she wondered if she was allowed to enter. You did say that you could look around so it wouldn’t do any harm.
“Hey, um, the door is locked.” She called out to you and there was an awkward beat of silence before you answered.
“Yeah, I, um, I keep the old suit and weapons there. Don’t want anybody to get in there, you know?”
Oh. Well, that made sense.
“Why don’t you come here and we can have a cup of tea of something.”
“So, what have you been up to?” You asked, getting a cup of tea ready for her. It had been a while since you had anyone in your place so you weren’t even sure where the second tea cup was.
“(Y/N), as much as I would love for this to just be a visit, I’m sorry but there’s something important that I have to tell you.”
Donna told you all about how Dick had reinstated the Titans and was actually in the city right now. You had already known that and made a conscious decision to stay far away from them. You had waited and waited and waited for them to return but when you finally moved on, they decide to show up again?
She told you about how each of the original Titans members were being targeted by an assassin, reasons and identity unknown and that she was here to bring you to the base for your protection.
“Listen, Donna, I hung up that suit a long time ago. If you guys are getting targeted then it’s probably because you started to get back into this life again. I’m fine and I haven’t been involved in it for a long time.” You told her.
“Yeah, (Y/N), I know but we all just think it would be safer—”
“Donna, I told you, I’ve moved on. I’m just an elementary school teacher now. No one is out to get me.”
A shot rang out through the apartment and your windows shattered.
The butt of the bullet shined from its hole in your wooden floors. It was a warning shot. And when you turned you saw the silhouette of a man on the roof of the apartment complex next to your building. He hid well and you couldn’t really make out any features.
The man held the gun up to eye level again and you jumped grabbing Donna’s arm and running towards the closet in the hallway before throwing it open and handing her a gun as shots rang out one after the other.
“I thought you said you kept all your superhero stuff in the other room?” She asked, seeing your costume hung in all it’s glory along with a number of weapons and gadgets.
“Is that really important now?!” You shouted, trying to pocket as many weapons as you could and then ran out into the hallway and past the staircase to the other side of the building
“What? (Y/N) what are we doing? The exit is over there!” She shouted, following you through the halls and she heard you click the safety off your gun before shooting at a lock and kicking the door open.
She ran behind you through an empty apartment and then through the window, scaling down the fire escape before making a break for it.
***
“So, you’re telling me I know have a target painted on my back because the rest of you couldn’t stop playing dress up?” You asked with a furious bite to your voice. The rest of the members held their head down, trying to avoid your gaze.
You were always the mother of the group, looking after people and making sure everyone was okay. But everybody knew when you were angry, there was nothing topping you from ripping them to shreds. The only thing they could do was try their hardest not to agitate you.
Even though none of them were scared of you and they probably could be equally matched with you in a fight. They would probably ever win, because you haven’t been out in the field for a year. But there was just something about your fiery gaze and your sharp voice that made their hearts quicken and them lower their heads in shame.
“(Y/N),” Dawn began with a placating voice, trying to put out your anger, “I know your mad but—”
“Mad?! I’m furious! What the hell were you imbeciles thinking?! Oh, let me guess, absolutely nothing!”
Usually when you were this angry, the team would send Dick your way, knowing that you could never stay angry with him for long. Even though years have passed and your relationship was now broken, it seemed like their strategies were still ingrained into their minds.
“(Y/N), look we just—” Dick began, moving towards you gently so he could hold you but you snapped at him, glaring at him so harshly that he actually took a few steps back and sat back into his seat.
“Oh, shut up, daddy issues! I don’t even wanna start with you!”
Hank immediately stood up then, getting annoyed with you constantly yelling at him. He was a grown man, why should he have to hear you shout at him like he was a little kid?
“Look, (Y/N), none of us—”
“Sit! The fuck! Down!”
No one could appreciate how funny Hank looked, slinking back to his seat like a kicked puppy.
“I seem to recall all of you saying that you wanted to leave this life behind! And now because none of you could actually give it up, my apartment is trashed, all my stuff probably has bullet holes and now I’m stuck here with no clothes, no stuff and all of you!”
“I could lend you some clothes if you like.” Donna said meekly from beside Dick, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
“Oh, well all of my problems are solved! Thank you so much!”
“I can’t believe this.” You murmured with a quiet voice and the rest recognized that you were finished with yelling. To be quite honest it was just a lot to process. You thought you had left these monsters in the past. It felt like they were trying to pull you back in by your ankles.
“I’m sorry.” Dick spoke up quietly and you sighed, seeing how ashamed he looked. He probably felt horrible, and that didn’t excuse him, but you couldn’t bear to keep yelling when you knew they felt apologetic towards you.
Maybe that’s why you were always being taken advantage of.
“Not like we can do anything about it now.” You said quietly, not making eye contact with either of them and instead just turning around and walking out of the mission room, briefly passing Rachel as you made your way to the kitchen.
You needed a shot.
Rachel stepped into the room once you left with a dazed look, clutching her arm that brushed against you as you walked out. It didn’t go unnoticed by the others.
“Rachel? Is everything okay?”
“I—” You started but then stopped herself, not quite understanding what she was feeling, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
***
You were formally introduced to the rest of the team by the end of the day. Dick watched with a gentle smile as you made witty banter with Jason and told Gar how adorable he was as he blushed.
“Hi, I’m Rachel.”
“Hey, Rachel, I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and held out your hand for her to shake. As soon as her skin came into contact with yours a gasp l4eft her lips.
Behind her closed eyelids she saw bits and pieces of your memories. She saw you writing letters. Even though you weren’t speaking she could hear what you were writing in her head. It was just bits and pieces of you writing letters but she could feel all the emotions that you felt as you wrote it down.
‘Hey love, it’s (Y/N), I love you, please come home.’
‘Dick it’s been weeks, please come home. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I was hoping I could do it in person but I can’t. Dick, I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with your child so I need you to come home. Please.’
You sent an ultrasound along with the letter and behind it in your handwriting was ‘Please, come home, our baby needs you.’
‘Dick, I want to fly out to Detroit and see you but my Doctor says it isn’t safe for me to fly. I’m about 3 months along and I just heard his heartbeat today. I’m so scared of doing this alone, Dick. I can’t do this alone. Please come home. I need you.’
‘I don’t know if you’re even reading my letters, Dick, but I’m going to keep sending them. If it’s the only way I can talk to you then I’m going to keep sending them. I’m craving a lot of sweets, so if you decide to come home all you need to do is bring back a s’more or something to get me to forgive you, okay? I’ll forgive you, I promise, just please come back home.’
‘I found out the sex of the baby today. It’s gonna be a boy. Dick, we’re gonna have a son and I don’t think I can raise him without you. Please come back home, let’s raise our son together. Please just even call me, or even just sending me a letter back is enough. Something. Anything, Dick, please.’
‘He’s starting to kick more often now, he’s really very active. He loves it when we watch your favourite movie. I don’t know why but I can feel it when we watch it together. He feels happy. Come back home and you can feel his kicks yourself. You don’t know how amazing that feels until it happens. I talk to him a lot; I tell him about you and I know he probably doesn’t understand but It feels like he does. I’m so scared to do this alone, Dick, I don’t think I can. Would you please come home now?’
‘I’ve been getting these things called Braxton Hick’s contractions. They were scary and new but apparently nothing to worry about. That’s what the doctor’s say but I can’t help but get scared, you know? It was absolutely heart-breaking to have to get myself to the hospital. I have friends, but let’s face it, none of them can actually take on the burden of having a child. And I couldn’t ask them to. I still love you, Dick. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. Our son, he feels so familiar, like there was a piece of you left behind. I’m starting to lose hope of you coming back, but I’m still going to keep writing letters because our son needs his father.’
Scenes flashes one after another and her head began spinning with images and she felt dizzy. Eventually her head cleared up and her eyes focused on your staring at her with concerned eyes.
“Rachel, is everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
“Are you sure, you blanked out for a second there.”
Yeah, Yeah I’m fine.”
You seemed to buy her explanation and left the room along with the boys when they offered to show you around. Rachel still stood in the middle of the kitchen, seemingly frozen.
Dick walked up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and that seemed to pull her out of her trance but she still seemed pretty shaken up.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
“She sent you letters, didn’t she?”
His brows furrowed as he scanned her face. There was something about it that he couldn’t pin-point, that he couldn’t read. It didn’t surprise him that she knew that you had written letters to him but what surprised him was that she asked about it. Usually, she never did.
“Yeah, she did.”
“You never read them, did you?” She asked again, meekly, breaking eye contact with him. She sounded disappointed and hurt but he couldn’t understand why. Maybe if he just explained the situation to her, she would understand.
“No, I never did.” He was going to tell her why. He was going to explain himself. But just as the moment came, Rachel started pulling herself away, moving towards her bedroom like she was lost.
“You should have.”
***
After his conversation with Rachel, Dick wondered what could have been in those letters that made her so shaken up. That made her distance herself from him for the next few days. It was heart-breaking to watch her pull away from him whenever he wanted to talk.
The longer Rachel distanced herself from him, the longer he wondered what exactly was in those letters. Rachel seemed to think that he should have read those letters, but what could’ve been in there that was so terrible?
Obviously, you were well and you looked like you had completely turned your life around, so what could it have been that Rachel thought he should find out about even after all these years?
The curiosity was enough to make him find those letters but not enough to give him the courage to read them. But he still needed to, he absolutely had to, so he opened the first letter you ever sent him.
Around an hour later, all the letters were opened and scattered around his bed. Nothing was going through his head. He didn’t even here you when you called him for dinner from the kitchen.
“Dick? Dinner’s ready. What are you….?” It was then you noticed the opened letters sitting on his bed, “What is this?”
“The letters you sent me.” He told you, his voice cracking and your breath caught. Your first emotion was to run away, to run far away but at the same time it felt like your feet were bolted to the floor. Dick looked up at you and you vaguely noticed the tears in his eyes.
For the first time, it felt like he finally understood how much leaving you had hurt him. He finally realized that he did more harm than good by leaving you. That he was missing out on his life’s greatest dream by leaving you. That while he was missing you, were begging him to come back.
“We have a son…” He started and you flinched, taking a sharp breath but not moving from your place in the doorway with your arms wrapped around your waist to protect yourself from what was going to come.
“I—I can’t believe this.” He spoke again and you bit your lip. Was he going to scream? Shout? Was he going to tell you that you should’ve aborted it? He stood up, albeit on shaky legs but still made his way towards you, keeping a few feet of distance between you.
You were scared of how he would react. You were worried about what he would say.
“I want to meet—”
“You can’t.” You said firmly, clenching your jaw hard as your nails dug into your palms. This was possibly the worst thing he could’ve said.
“Look I know that I shouldn’t have left. I realize that now. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my entire life and I’m sorry. But he’s my son too, please let me—”
“I lost it.” You murmured, not being able to meet his eyes and instead just lowered your eyes, “I lost our son.”
Just like that, Dick Grayson’s world began to crumble before his eyes.
“I woke up one night, in a pool of blood,” You spoke, screwing your eyes shut as you tried to fight the onslaught of tears. Dick immediately pulled you into a hug and you didn’t fight it, instead you fisted his shirt in your hands to keep you in this world and keep you from reliving that day.
 “I called the ambulance and even though they got me to the hospital and did first aid, he was already gone when I got there.” You cried into his neck and his arms were tight around your shaking form, but he was shedding silent tears into your hair.
“It wasn’t your fault.” He said, voice cracking with guilt and a sob broke through you.
“That’s what everyone else said. But—I just—Can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I had just been more careful. If I had taken care of myself more. If I had tried harder. We would still have our baby boy.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He said once more, firmly this time, that you almost began to believe him.
“I was his mother. I was supposed to protect him. I failed.”
“I was his father. I was supposed to protect the both of you. I’m sorry I failed you.” He wanted to tell you that he loved you. The words were just on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t deserve to love you. And he didn’t deserve to tell you.
“I’m sorry (Y/N).” He said again before he broke down and the two of you fell to the floor, crying in each other’s arms.
Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee​
DC Taglist: @emmacata​
1K notes · View notes
sevlgi · 3 years
Text
what we want
requested: yes x2
group: blackpink
pairing: jennie x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff
contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship
warnings: none
synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.
a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D
word count: 6k
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Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.
At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her. 
What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.
And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up. 
It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.
“Jennie.”
“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.
When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”
“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”
Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”
As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.
“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”
“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”
“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”
She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’
Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”
Her?
Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”
“Of course. This is her?”
“This is her. Jennie?”
She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”
“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”
“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”
She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”
“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.
Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”
Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”
“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”
“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”
Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”
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“Can I order something for you?”
“I’m good.”
Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”
Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.
“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”
Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”
You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”
“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”
“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”
The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”
Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”
“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised. 
“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”
She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”
“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”
“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”
You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”
She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”
And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.
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Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.
But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.
Of course, you had to change that.
“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”
At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”
He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”
Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”
Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”
As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”
“Why’re you here?” 
You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”
Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”
“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”
Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”
“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”
“Um. Why?”
Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”
Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”
“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”
Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.
But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.
Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more. 
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“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”
Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”
“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”
The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. “Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”
In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”
“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”
Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”
Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.
“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”
“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”
Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”
It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.
“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway.  To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”
“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”
You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”
“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”
“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”
Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”
The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”
You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”
“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”
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“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”
“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.
Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”
Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”
Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”
“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.
Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.
“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”
Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.
You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.
As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”
“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”
“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”
You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”
“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”
“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”
“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”
You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.
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You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.
However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry. 
When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.
The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.
“Are you ready?”
“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”
You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”
“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”
“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”
The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”
You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”
Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.
“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.
You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.
Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.
Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Um. Sorry?”
She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”
“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”
“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again. 
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Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on. 
“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”
Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”
“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”
“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”
Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”
“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”
“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”
On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”
She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.
Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”
It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”
“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”
You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”
Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed;  Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.
“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”
“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.
You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”
Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”
A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”
“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”
You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”
Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.
When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”
“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”
“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”
You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”
And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.
931 notes · View notes
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Good Ones Die First
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
WC: 734
Warnings: Suicide, death, angst, blood, violence, MCD
Summary: Joel hasn't seen the reader in a few hours.
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Joel walked through the streets of Jackson, tired and a little tipsy. He’d spent the night at the Bison. Watching Ellie dance with Dina and Cat and Jesse. It was cute. Reminded him of something he couldn't place.
Joel rounded a corner and saw Y/N’s lights on. That was odd. It was damn near one in the morning and she had said she was going to bed early. He'd asked if she wanted to go to the Bison with him, grab a drink, and she’d said she’d think about it. He had seen Y/N’s lights off when he’d left- had assumed she was asleep. He decided to check on her. Better safe than sorry in this world.
His footfalls grew heavier the closer he got to Y/N’s door. Joel knew in his gut something was wrong. He knocked on her door.
Once.
Twice.
No answer. He tried the handle to find the door unlocked. That was really odd. She was about as paranoid as him- no way her door would be unlocked. Unless someone else had left it that way.
Fear raced through him as he called out her name, checking every room.
“Y/N? Hon, are you here? Y/N!” His shouting grew more frantic as he approached her bedroom. He looked around the corner and saw that it was empty. That left one more room. Joel’s gaze fell to his left and he noticed her bathroom at the end of the hall had been left open. There was something dark on the floor- a stark contrast to the white tile.
“Y/N?” He whispered- his voice shaking. Joel nudged the door open with his hand, peering into the small room. His eyes landed on Y/N. Sitting propped against her bathtub. Words were written on the floor in dark brown- brown paint. That's what it was. Paint.
I’m sorry. I loved her. And you. Tell Ellie I'm glad I got be her- a few words were scribbled out -whatever I was for as long as I did. Bury me deep.
Joel collapsed to his knees and cradled Y/N's face in his hands. She was cold. Her beautiful lips had grown pale. Her eyes bloodshot. Her wrists- slit open. A small box cutter in her right hand.
“No. No, don't you do this. You don't get to leave me. You promised. You promised.” After shaking her a few times he knew. She was gone.
-
-
-
Ellie was nervous. She had been drinking all night but something had happened. Tommy had come over to Maria and the two of them raced out of the Bison. Dina looked at her concerned.
“What is it? Breach?” Dina shrugged and raced to follow them. Ellie and Dina trailed Tommy and Maria for a few streets, staying far behind. Whatever it was, Maria had made a point of not involving Ellie.
When they turned onto Y/N's street Ellie’s heart dropped into her stomach.
No.
Ellie sprinted, not caring if Tommy and Maria tried to stop her.
Nononononononono
“Ellie! Stop! You don't wanna-” Tommy held an arm out to stop her but she shoved him away.
Not her. Not her.
Ellie was running up her sidewalk when Joel came out of her house. His eyes on the ground. His knees covered in blood. A choked sob escaped her.
“Where's Y/N?”
Joel just looked at her. That was the first time she'd seen him cry.
“Where's my mom?” Ellie screamed at him. She ran at him, but Joel refused to let her through.
Joel’s arms wrapped around her. To comfort or contain she didn't know.
Ellie dropped to the ground sobbing.
Joel held her as she screamed. As she thrashed against him.
“Why didn't you save her? Please, go save her. Please.”
Joel clung to her. His own tears wetted her shoulder.
When Ellie stopped crying Joel let her go. She pulled away to look at him.
“How?” Ellie asked.
Joel let a box cutter fall from his hand. The blade was retreated, but she knew then what happened.
“She said she loved you.” Joel said simply.
Ellie stood and backed away. Backed away from Joel, from her mother’s house and blood and body.
“It should've been you.” Ellie ran into the night. She snuck out of the East gate and stayed out until dawn.
-
-
-
Two weeks later Ellie found him.
Beaten.
Bloody.
Alone.
Dead.
139 notes · View notes
mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Cold Feet
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (happy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé, and blink and you’ll miss it implied smut Word Count: 1.7k
MASTERLIST | Alternate Version/Ending of Cold Feet
NOTE: When @meganskane announced her 700 follower celebration I just knew this idea would be the perfect way to implement one of the prompts she gave! The one I chose is “quit looking at me like that” ❤
Also! Fun fact: this song opens with “they’re all set to go on the 18th of June”, and that’s today, so it’s festive 😊)
***
She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Dying to kiss him and put on his ring. So why is she walking alone after midnight, Down a small town street, with cold feet?
Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.
It was easier a couple days ago when she knew exactly what she wanted. Her husband-to-be was more than excited to marry her, and she'd reciprocated that feeling entirely. Everything was ready to go. Truthfully, they could have gotten married right this second if that's what they wanted, that's how ready to go they were.
But now? She was questioning everything.
She still feels the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again— a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.
The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.
And then her fiancée walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.
Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.
But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely
She hated that she even had to think about it.
She hated that her thoughts were so consumed with this man she hadn't seen in years when the man she was about to marry slept next to her every night, unaware of the start to her inner turmoil. Each night since then, she dreamt of dances with both of them, alternating between the two until they made her choose which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And every morning she'd wake with an even bigger tear in her heart than when the old flame had burned it alive and left her alone in the aftermath to piece it back together.
Her fiancée helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.
So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?
Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.
But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.
She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.
Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.
It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.
Nothing could have grounded her upon seeing her ex boyfriend after all these years, though, especially when she finally shows up to their old spot and sees him perched on the big stump right next to the water, relief and joy flooding through his features at the sight of her. His smile is just as bright and familiar as she remembered, and it just about knocks the wind out from under her feet.
"Hi, Y/N," he greets softly, standing up and stretching his hands out over his legs. It's obvious that he's nervous to meet up with her after all these years apart, and she couldn't blame him in the slightest.
She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."
"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."
"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."
There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"
"I know that I love my fiancée. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"
"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."
She isn't really sure how to respond after that. It's true that seeing this man in front of her for the first time in years has brought back a wave of feelings that she'd repressed and even experienced with someone new.
But it's also true that with those feelings comes an inevitable aftertaste of bitterness. He'd left her, decided ultimately that his career was more important to him, and now that she has someone new he's asking her to leave behind this peace she's found. And for what? For him? What's to stop him from leaving again, or deciding years or months down the road that he'd made a mistake and gotten her to leave her one shot at happiness after him?
Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance.
He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.
Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.
And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.
Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.
But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancée's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.
She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.
So she pulls back and wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."
There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."
"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."
Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.
Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.
She climbs into bed some time later, the cardigan still wrapped tightly around her body, and she can't quite bring herself to face the man sleeping next to her. It feels wrong, like somehow she's betrayed him by even thinking of spending the rest of her life with another person. She doesn't feel worthy of his love.
When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.
"Quit looking at me like that..."
Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancée doesn't know anything is wrong.
Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."
She only grumbles, feeling anything but.
It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."
Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."
While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.
"Come here."
Two simple words, two syllables, and yet it's the softest declaration of love she's ever heard. Her body instinctively nestles into his, face going straight into the crook of his neck while he wraps her up in his arms.
"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"
"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.
He smells like home.
He feels like home.
And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.
He is home.
James never was.
Y/N burrows herself further into Spencer's body and plants a gentle kiss to his neck, shivering slightly at the way his curly locks tickle her temple.
He stops humming and laughs. "What are you feeling for breakfast?"
"Hmmm... You." She articulates her point by selfishly kissing his neck, reminiscent of Cookie Monster.
Pretty soon, the two of them are laughing together, limbs tangling and breaths mingling, and then an hour and a half later they're in the kitchen, sipping on coffee.
As its warmth radiates through her throat and chest, Y/N studies him from across the room. He flips through pages of a book as he drinks his coffee, and for a brief moment, his eyes flick up to see her staring.
The action brings a smile to both their faces, and Y/N has never felt happier.
She's never felt more loved.
***
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eternalsimp · 3 years
Text
Cursed Fears
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 3096
Warnings: aged up Megumi, use of female pronouns, swearing, mentions of violence, spoilers for episodes 5 and 6, mention of character death, slight sexual themes toward the end, angst, minors dni.
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The sound of the rain steadily increasing was the only sound in your apartment as you waited patiently for your boyfriend. Your laptop displayed that it was midnight as you lazily scribbled statistics solutions onto the notes app of your tablet. Once you felt you reached a stopping point you got up to find a long sleeve to stave off the cold that seeped into the apartment from the storm. Striding over to your closet to pull out something to remind you of him. As you grabbed his signature grey shirt, you were immediately hit with the soft scent of cedar-wood. It was thin and soft from years of use. It hung loosely and brought you a sort of comfort as you counted down the minutes ‘til he got home. You weren’t a sorcerer, but you were well aware of the dangers that your friends went out and faced, and the panic in the back of your mind grew louder as the hours passed since Megumi had walked out of the door.
You stifled a yawn as you finally heard the lock to your front door click open and shut. You closed your eyes and stretched your back to loosen the knots that formed from doing your homework on the living room floor. As you made your way to the door to greet your boyfriend, he was frantically kicking his shoes off and stripping himself of his jacket.
“Hey love, how was it?” you said softly while reaching for his rain-soaked torso. He flinched away from your touch, eyes wide and afraid. His blue eyes scan your confused face before he blinks slowly and takes a shuddering breath.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to still be up.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. The smell of blood, dirt, and god knows what else isn’t lost on you as he tries to pass you quickly. You bend to pick his jacket off of the floor where he had tossed it in his haste, and walk to your shared bedroom to put it in the laundry basket. You open the drawers to his side of the dresser to pull out his favorite sweats and a plain white tee-shirt, before gently placing them on the bathroom counter where he is aggressively scrubbing his face. 
“You’re gonna get sick if you stay in those wet clothes much longer,” you say oh so matter of factly before pushing up on your toes to kiss the corner of his jaw. Your movements take him slightly off guard, which you use to your advantage to nudge him to a sitting position on the bench next to the shower. You run a washcloth under the warm water of the sink, move to stand between his legs, and gently brush the cloth against his temple. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You both sit in silence as you wipe the remnants of sweat and blood off of his face and neck. You notice the way he's holding your waist, hands so light his touch is barely there. Like he’s afraid you'll break if he makes a wrong move. After you finish wiping his face and neck, you tug at the hem of his soaked shirt and he complies with your wordless command to take it off. You step back out of the bathroom to toss it into the basket with his Jujustu Tech jacket.
When you walk back in, his head is leaning against the cool wall, letting you fully take stock of the bruises and cuts adorning the top half of his body. The worst of it looks like a slight split at the corner of his bottom lip and a shallow cut above one of his brows. You stride over to him and run your fingers through his black hair. “Baby,” you crooned softly. He gave a soft hum in acknowledgment as you nuzzled your nose into the top of his head. “I love you but you smell like a sewer, can you please shower before you fall asleep?” He sticks his tongue out playfully as you back away from him so he can stand up and move towards the shower. 
Though his normal stoic behavior wouldn’t concern you, you still can’t shake the terrified look on his face when he first entered the apartment. How tense he’s holding himself and the way that he’s obviously trying not to worry you. His eyes linger on your face like he’s trying to memorize every aspect of it before he drops his gaze and shakes whatever thought he had out of his head.
You settle back on the living room floor between the coffee table and the couch and turn your attention back to your college notes. You only have time to pick your stylus back up before your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. You look down and see Itadori’s name scrawled across the screen along with a picture of him smiling next to your grouchy-looking boyfriend.
“Hey Yuuji, what’s up?”
“Hey y/n, I know it's late but I just wanted to make sure Fushiguro got back okay.”
“Yeah, he’s in the shower. Do you want me to have him call you when he’s out?”
“No… I just… did he seem okay when he got back?”
You chewed on the corner of your mouth for a second, “I mean, he seemed kinda unsettled but that’s not unusual for when he comes back from your guys' missions.”
“Yeah… yeah you’re right. I don’t know, he just seemed off after everything. Never mind.”
You hear the water shut off in the other room and quirk a brow. “Yuuji you better spit it out or else I’m gonna come over there and start cutting your fingers off! What are you not telling me?”
“On that note, I gotta go. Just talk to him, okay?”
“Wait Yuuji-” the line goes dead before you can press him with more questions. You stuff your phone back into your pocket and tap your stylus on your tablet for a couple of minutes. Just talk to him. Gore and violence are nothing new to Megumi, and he isn’t easily fazed, so what would shake him so bad that even Yuuji is worried?
You’re pulled from your thoughts both literally and figuratively when you feel a pair of muscular arms lift you onto the couch behind you. You are once again settled between your boyfriend's legs as you’re pressed against his strong chest. You yelp and try to wiggle out of his grasp but his years of training with the other Jujustu Sorcerers, even after graduating, leave him with an iron grip on your hips. 
“Hang on let me grab my notes,” you protest. He presses his face into your neck and whines. After a few moments of struggling against him, you manage to snatch your tablet and pen off the ground and open it to your last question. You adjust yourself so your shoulder is against his chest and you can lazily drape your legs over his thigh. He rests his cheek against the crown of your head and readjusts his arms around you so he can still hold you tightly while not blocking your view of your classwork. You scribble notes for a few more minutes before deciding that him falling asleep in this position will mean him complaining of a sore neck in the morning, what with the awkward way it's twisted to lean against you. You could feel his body getting heavier against your own. You remembered what Yuuji had told you, and in an effort to keep him awake, you decided to ask what had been nagging you since he got back home. 
“Are you okay?” All you get in response is another hum from your barely awake boyfriend. You shift again and reach up to run your fingers through his still-damp hair, “‘Gumi, baby, you shouldn't fall asleep here. Let’s go to bed.” He chuckles lightly at the nickname you gave him way back when you first started dating, and how you save it for private moments like this. 
“I just wanna hold you for a bit longer, I promise we’ll get up soon.” Megumi finally murmurs. You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches as you try to fix your gaze upon him. You sigh and set your tablet down before turning to straddle Megumi’s lap and force him to look at you. 
“What’s wrong, you’re more distant than usual?” You rest your hands on either side of his face and turn him to look at you. He avoids eye contact and suddenly you’re looking at the guarded 16-year-old boy who refused to open up to anyone when you first met. You lean to rest your forehead against his as he focuses his gaze somewhere between your jaw and the base of your throat. “Please talk to me? What happened out there?”
Megumi struggles internally on how much to tell you. You mindlessly stroke his cheeks with your thumbs and he finds himself settling his hands back on your waist again, with the same feather-light touch that you would use with glass. Finally, you get his answer in the form of a whisper.
“I’m scared I’m gonna lose you…”
You immediately pull your head back to look at him straight on only to be met with a faraway gaze. You furrow your brows together and squeeze his face just enough to get his attention. His eyes snap to yours and you can see the tears starting to prick at the corners. “I’m not going anywhere ‘Gumi.” You smile at him before pulling him closer to you and he buries his face into your neck.
“Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m scared I’m putting you in danger,” his voice is starting to waver, “You didn’t ask for this, any of this. I’m gone all the time, always on missions constantly putting both our lives in danger. I can’t even imagine what would happen if one of the special grades were to find out about you. It’s bad enough Sukuna knows you.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence and you feel his chest shudder.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. You nudge his face away from your shoulder and see the tears he’s been holding back finally fall. The only other time you can remember him crying like this was when he thought Yuji died. You go back to stroking his face and shushing him but it's too late, the dam is broken and he can no longer hold back the sobs. 
“What if I can’t protect you?” He continues to choke out his fears while you keep stroking his face lovingly and whispering soft reassurances to him that everything is going to be okay and you’re both safe. You let him cry into your chest until his strangled sobs slowly turn into soft sniffles.
“Feeling any better baby?” You gently push at his shoulders and lean him back again so you can look at him. He nods hesitantly and lets you wipe any remaining tears from under his now puffy eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just tired and I guess everything kinda boiled over all at once,” he sighs. You lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly melts into it.
“Don’t be sorry Megumi, you can talk to me about anything.” You press another kiss to his forehead and continue rubbing small circles into his jaw to loosen the tension there. After a few moments of holding each other silently, you pipe your voice up again. “Yuji called, he seemed worried. Did something happen tonight?”
You felt Megumi go stiff underneath you before quickly relaxing into your touch again. “Itadori started to lose control and Sukuna was just being a dick, per usual.” You inhale sharply and try to remove yourself from his grasp, you are gonna kill those two one of these days. As if he could read your mind Megumi quickly grabbed your wrists effectively pinning you against his chest once again. “Okay no, stop it. Nothing happened, he was just being mouthy and trying to wind me up. Obviously, it worked...”
“I don’t give a shit what Sukuna says and neither should you. If by some miracle he is able to get out of their pact, Gojo and Yuji would never let anything happen, and neither would you.” You press your forehead against his again since he still has a firm grip on your wrists to keep you from moving away from him. “I don’t care what you think, the safest place for me is right here with you. Sukuna is just bitter that he’s in a cage so he’s decided to make it everyone else's problem.” Megumi chuckles lightly again before releasing your hands and replacing his arms around your waist. 
“We should go to bed, you have class in the morning.” He sighs. You crane your neck to see it’s well past 2 am, you stretch again to release the last couple of cracks in your spine and your boyfriend takes the opportunity to nip at your collarbones and make you squirm against him. 
“If you stop doing that I’ll stay home with you instead, deal?” He jerks his face away from your chest and gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. 
“Are you sure? You have exams this week right?” 
“There’s no point in going to a lecture if I’m just gonna fall asleep. I’ll study for my exams tomorrow after I wake up, but I’m planning on sleeping in tomorrow. Both of us need it.” He hums in agreement before trying to lift himself off the couch with you still in his arms. You gasp in surprise as you feel him wobble and stumble back into the couch cushions, tucking you into his neck with a hand to the back of your head to keep your faces from colliding. 
You look at each other and let out a chorus of laughter. You shake your head before pinching his nose gently. “For someone so smart, you are so fucking dumb sometimes.” He scrunches up his face and swats your hand away as you peel yourself out of his arms and off his lap.
“You know, I’ve done it before and I was confident I could do it again. Also, I gotta keep my pretty girl on her toes.” This time it was your turn to swat his hand away as he grabbed at your thighs and rear. You rolled your eyes comically at him and moved towards the bedroom. He jumps up, throws you over his shoulder, before unceremoniously plopping you on the bed with a speed you’ve only ever seen him possess. He hovers over you as he presses his mouth against you in a rushed, teeth-clashing kiss. You push at his shoulder so he can dramatically flop on his back and open his arms expectantly. 
“Give me a sec to change, I’ll be right back.” He whines like a child when you grab your pajama shorts and a tank top from the top of the dresser and stride into the bathroom. You’ve never known anyone to be as handsy as Megumi. He hates PDA and would never in a million years let strangers see through his cold, tough exterior. In the comfort of your home though, you quickly learned that he can never keep his hands to himself and they tend to wander on their own. He always wants to be touching you when you’re home together and he’ll whine and pout if he can’t. You can never find it in your heart to turn down his affection, especially on nights like this when he is feeling vulnerable and needs reassurance. Those nights are few and far between but you indulge your boyfriend in anything he needs whenever his facade starts to crack and you get glimpses of the version of him that he keeps carefully tucked away. 
You pull your jeans and his sweater off and quickly throw your pajamas on. You toss your clothes into the basket from the door and find your boyfriend sprawled on your side of the bed scrolling through his phone. You poke the middle of his back and yank the blanket, covering him from the waist down, to what's supposed to be his side of the bed. His jaw drops in mock offense before he's pulling your front flush against his chest once again. 
His lips latch onto yours again as he's tangling his legs with yours and threading his hands through your hair. You bring your hands under his shirt to stroke your fingertips lightly against his sides as his kisses grow needier and more urgent. One of his hands leaves your hair to grip your hips as he rolls his own into you desperately. You bring one hand to press against his chest lightly and move away from him for air. 
“Baby please…” he looks like he's on the verge of begging. His heart pounds heavily under your fingers on his chest. You press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.
“‘Gumi, you’re exhausted and very emotional right now, just go to sleep.” His bottom lip sticks out in a cute pout and you lift your hand to run your thumb over his protruding bottom lip. “I promise I will be here in the morning and we have all day tomorrow to hang out and do anything you want.” 
His brows quirk up and his mouth pulls into a smirk. “Anything?” He drops his head to try and catch your lips again but you evade him.
“Anything, if you go to sleep right now and wait ‘til morning.” He scrunches his nose up and huffs pathetically before moving to tuck one arm under your head and wrap the other around your waist protectively. You nuzzle your face into his chest to breathe in the usual smell of cedar-wood and a lingering scent of rain. One of your hands is tucked under his jaw while the other slips back beneath his shirt to keep tracing patterns up and down his sides. He shivers at the featherlight touch of your fingertips but melts into the hand you have on his face.
You can feel his breath growing more rhythmic and you glance up to see his eyes fluttering shut. You press one last kiss to his jaw before murmuring a quiet “I love you” into his chest. He squeezes the arm that's around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him before you drift to sleep.
“I love you too baby. I promise I’ll always protect you.”
219 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 4 years
Text
Catch it (JJK x Reader)💜☁️👽
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💚 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
💚 Genre: Alien!AU, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut
💚 Warnings: Mentions of war, Reader is homeless, Jungkook is kind of clumsy, he hurts her accidentally sometimes, it’s never intentional though, slavery (in a sense), sweet boy Jungkook, no smut yet sorry haha PLEASE DON'T LEAVE I PROMISE ITS GOOD
💚 Summary: The world is literally ending. In a last effort to save earth, the race of Alcor demands humanities planet to be given into their care, as humans have been slowly killing the planet for way too long. But it’s humanity we’re talking about; they never give up without a fight. Even if they should.
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Part of the Alien!Jungkook series!
Catch it | Hold it | Keep it | Save it | ???
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  The world had officially gone to shit.
Now, that was hard to overlook at this point; with almost every street in utter ruins, every corner looking like the worst slums at this point. Humanity had lost the war they had started; and the Alcorian people had by now begun to get rid of everything, building up things from scratch, and planting new trees and other plants.
They were healing the planet, as they called it.
You'd always despised the ways your own race handled things in the past, but this time you'd genuinely thought they would do the right thing. When you'd seen it on TV, the Alcorian government speech, you'd been surprised. You didn't really know what to think of aliens if you'd ever been asked in the past, Alcorian people already known to be existent by the time you'd been in school still. Now, years after finishing and living a life of a sole survivor on the streets, you'd never truly took time to think about what kind of appearance they may had. But now you knew- and it was nothing like you would've ever thought.
From what you've seen and heard they were tall- and had much more physical strength than a regular human. Their eyes had cat-like pupils designed for their naturally long nights on their homeplanet, giving them a distinctive look. The most common color seen had been green or a very dark brown- light brown, beige, or blue eyes were a rarity. The carried themselves with a certain kind of confidence that wasn't overbearing or too pushy. They simply knew they had the upper hand.
Humanity had been simply stupid.
Or narcisstic, as you liked to call it. The government had just been too scared to have power taken away like a toddler who'd throw a fit if it was time to let someone else play with a toy. But this wasn't kindergarden, and no one was playing around.
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"Do you need help?" He'd asked, and you kept your hood down low, careful not to show your face and reveal anything to the Alcorian standing close to you. He had a nice voice, you'd noticed, but the fear still crept into your bones from the very real possibility of him taken you away, just like everyone else at this point. The war had been over for a little over a month by now, and Humans were not seen that much anymore. Everyone kept themselves hidden, stories about humans getting snatched and sometimes even eaten keeping you up at night like a child afraid of the dark. "Hey- are you okay?" He asked again. Considering your very small height in comparison to him, he probably mistook you for an alcorian child, and wanted to take you somewhere safe. They were known to be protective of their family after all.
At his touch, you slowly backed away, as he grew more and more suspicious of you. His hand reached for your hood, and that was the exact moment you decided to absolutely book it, and run off.
Sadly, he wasn't at all dumbfounded by that, and you should've listened to that weird drunk guy some weeks ago telling you that Alcorian's were hunters- they loved to chase and run. And oh well, with legs like that, he totally had all odds in his favor. You're only chance of escaping was the backside of an old grocery store, old vending machines serving as a hiding spot for you every time you needed one. Your small body always fit right between the two large machines, giving you a sense of security. Not now however, as he almost ran past where you'd squeezed yourself in, hood now completely down as your face- and most importantly eyes- were exposed to be seen.
“You’re- Human!” He exclaims with wide eyes, cat like pupils contracting in shock as you squeeze yourself tighter against the wall behind you, vending machines providing a bit of distance between you and the Alcorian. He’s too broad, too tall to fit where you’re hiding, but his arm is long enough to reach you as he grabs your jacket, pulling on the fabric as if to force you out.
“No, leave me!” You demand, eyes squeezing shut as tears begin to gather. This was it; your chase was over, and this dude would be having you for dinner. Or not- you didn’t really know exactly what Alcorians did with humans after they captured them. All you knew was that you were already small for human standards- these beings were taller and stronger by nature already.
“Sto-Stop being so complicated-!” He gritted our, still pulling on your clothing to get you out of your hiding spot, grabbing a bit more for good measure. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why did he have to be so fucking strong? The gravel and dirt underneath your shoes made scratching sounds as he slowly but surely pulled you out of your spot, not letting you go even for a second, even as you'd tried to pry his hand off, scratching his skin and making him hiss. "There we- go!" He exclaimed, having gotten you out of your spot, holding you tightly against his chest as he held your wrists tightly, leg thrown over yours to keep you from struggling. You felt your tears fall down your cheeks, as you began to pathetically breath heavier, faster, huffing as you kept your eyes closed tightly. As if you'd wake up.
"Please don't hurt me." You whispered over and over pathetically, a begging tune to your voice as he simply.. hushed you? And wait, was that hand on your head.. petting you?
"There there.." He consoled, as if you were a scared cat he had to calm down. "I'm not gonna do anything okay?" He hummed, letting you calm down for a moment, before he spoke again. "I'm gonna let go of your legs now, okay?" He said, and you nodded with hesitation as he did just as he told you, slowly moving his leg, and softening the grip on your wrists as well. You stayed completely stiff in his hold, not daring to move as he continued. "You're not claimed." He stated, and you nodded again, not trusting your voice as you agreed to his statement. It was rare by now to find an unclaimed human just like that. Something in his jacket buzzed, making him groan a bit, before he slowly stood up. "I wish I had more time to make you feel a bit more comfortable but-" He started, before he pulled out a black.. collar? You instantly struggled again. He may looked nice, but he was an alcorian at the end of the day- you never knew what he'd do. "No no no please-" He desperately tried, looking around in frenzy as he held your hands again. "Look- its nothing bad okay? I just want to help you!" He urged on, making you furrow your brows at him. "I promise you, I really do- I'll take care of you okay? Just- trust me for a bit. You can decide after we took off okay?" He said, and you became a bit less hesitant.
"Take off where?" You asked, and he genuinely smiled at the fact that you spoke to him, before explaining.
"I'm taking you home with me." He said, and you grew uneasy again. "No, don't- don't look at me like that!" He whined, before he squatted down as if to make him seem less dangerous to you. "They're collecting. I've seen you around these parts for a couple of days, and I'd like you to have a chance of deciding where you want to be." He said, and you looked at him in question. But- as soon as he would claim you, you were his property. "I'm just going to put this on you for the duration of the flight, okay? I promise you, you can decide afterwards where you want to go. But we need to move now!" He urged, and you nodded. There was nothing keeping you on this rotting earth anyways, even though you'd still hoped to stay. He beamed at you, smile reminding you of a bunny as he carefully placed the collar around your neck, before taking your hand.
You whined a bit at his tight grip as he looked back, eyes contracting again at the sight of your angrily red wrists. He looked apologetic as he seemed to think, before he simply decided to pick you up instead, carrying you to wherever he was going. "Sorry, for uh.. I didn't mean to." He said, and you simply didn't answer, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you watched the familiar grocery store grow smaller the further away you went.
This really was the end, wasn't it?
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"Little one?" A voice spoke, slowly awakening you from a nap you didn't even notice slipping into. You were still leaning against the body of that Alcorian guy who'd picked you up, warm body making you feel sleepy. You moved a bit to detach yourself, as you looked at him, for the first time in proper lighting.
He looked young but mature at the same time, with wide, brightly colored eyes. His dark hair was long and straight, while his face was slightly soft in its proportions. Lips pink and arched into a soft smile seemed to fit perfectly, just like the tiny beauty mark in the middle just underneath his lower lip. He was handsome.
"You can sleep in a second." He promised in a low voice, careful not to disturb other passengers as he looked out the window. "I just thought you.. might not want to miss this." He said carefully, unknowing if this would be a painful goodbye for you.
It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.
You held onto his jacket a bit tighter as the shuttle roared to life, slowly gaining speed on the runway as it departed, earth and the city growing smaller, until clouds blocked the way. Jungkook watched you with a studying gaze, glad that he'd managed to get you onto the shuttle before departing. He'd found you a few weeks earlier, roaming the streets like a lost animal, as he studied you. You were nice and friendly towards other humans, and agile in escaping Alcorian police forces who searched the streets occasionally. Sharing food was never something you denied when asked, and he'd also watched with a hurting heart as your small amounts of belongings got stolen one night, leaving you with nothing behind.
He just.. had to do something.
Humans were always depicted as selfish creatures only knowing their own benefit, and he had to agree to a certain point; a lot of them were like that. It was understandable to a degree, but it also wasn't, considering that his race had only tried to help. They'd never intended to start a war.
"Whats your name?" You asked in a quiet voice, careful not to speak too loud, as he smiled at you.
"Jungkook." He replied. "Jeon Jungkook." He spoke as he tilted his head. "And yours?" He asked.
"Y/N." You answered, and he nodded.
"You can keep it, if you want to." He said, and you simply leaned into him, watching as you broke orbit, earth now far away. For some reason, you didn't know if you wanted to. There was no reason to keep it, if you were leaving your old life behind like that. He seemed nice, and friendly- a bit rough, but that was to be expected. For some odd reason, you didn't want to decide whether or not to stay with him or not. He'd claimed you, end of story. You didn't even notice that you had started crying until his hand began to run over your head again, shifting a bit to have you sit a bit more comfortably.
Maybe he wasn't so bad.
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"And there we are." He exclaimed, setting you down for the first time after the flight once you'd both entered his living space. It seemed- oddly like a regular apartment, with rounded windows and furniture that looked similar to what you knew. You stood still, until he gently tapped your back a bit. "You can go explore a bit- I have to make a call real quick." He said, and you nodded, taking off your shoes before walking inside further, watching as Jungkook left to go into a different room. Alcorians and Humans were similarly developed and shared a lot of technology. It was surprising however how much alike but different at the same time things were. You went closer to the largest window, watching as cars sped by- or, where those planes? It wasn't easy to tell.
"A friend of mine will stop by in a moment." He explained from behind you, as he kept a small distance from you, as if to preserve your personal space. "Just to give you a quick check up." He said, and you grew a bit uneasy, as he suddenly tried to retract his statement. "You know, nothing bad! Just, you know, to make sure you're okay and in good health-" He said, before you spoke again.
"What.. Why am I here?" You asked, and his eyes widened at the realization on what you hinted at. The tips of his pierced ears grew a bit pink at that, as he scratched the back of his head.
"Not for that- promise, I'm not like that!" He said, before he sat down on his couch. "Like I said, I wanted to, you know, get you somewhere safe." He explained. "I work with.. a few friends. We're trying to help humans find compatible people here, to live with." He said, and you nodded, rather sitting down on the carpeted floor a bit away from him. You noticed however, how he said 'people', instead of owners. It made you feel less like a pet.
"So.. you're a rescue organization for.. humans." You stated, and he nodded.
"If you want to call it that, yes." He answered, before someone knocked at the door. You sat up a bit straighter at that, growing uneasy at the visitor. "Please stay calm okay? I promise he's a good guy." He said, before he left to open the door, another tall young Alcorian walking through the door after greeting him. He wore glasses, and his hair was a light sandy brown color, while his eyes looked dark. He spotted you and you slowly began to scoot backwards. Nop, the bag in this guys hands was clearly containing medical equipment, and you were not here for it. "Y/N- No, come back!" He called after you as you ran off to the nearest room, closing the door in a hurry as you frantically searched for a place to hide, choosing the underside of his bed as the perfect place. You could fit right underneath.
"..-rmal for her to react like that. They're usually scared." An unfamiliar voice spoke through the door. "Did you tell her why I would be here?" He asked, and the other voice you clearly by now deciphered as Jungkooks answered with a whine.
"I did, and she was fine with that!" He explained, before the door opened, voices now clearer. "Well, she was a bit scared but I thought that was normal." He admitted, as the stranger sat down near the door, Jungkook next to him as if to block your only way out. Jungkook tried to reach for you only to be held back by the other guy, making him whine at him. "Namjoon, I have to get her out of there!" He said, and the other guy, Namjoon, still pulled him back to sit down.
"You can't force her out like that.!" He scolded, and it got quiet after that for a moment.
You carefully peeked out from underneath the bed, only to be met with Jungkooks smile, and the strangers gentle face. You slowly crawled out of your hiding spot, still staying a safe distance away as you watched both warily. "Hello Y/N. I'm Kim Namjoon, I'm a medical practician majorly focusing on human health." He said, and you scoffed, making Jungkook look at you surprised. You seemed absolutely different from just moments ago with him.
"So you're a vet for humans." You simply said, and Namjoon merely chuckled.
"Feisty. But yeah, you can call it that if you want to." He answered, as you still kept your scowl. "So can you cooperate with me now, or will I have to use force?" He asked, and you became even more hostile, Jungkook stepping in.
"Namjoon no- we won't be using anything like that" He tried, but Namjoon didn't seem to listen as he watched you with an amused expression on his face.
"I'm not a pet." You stated, and Namjoon grinned.
"You're certainly behaving like one." He answered, and you scoffed again.
"Then you won't be too shocked that I will bite you." You said, and the man shook his head.
"You wouldn't be the first one. Your kind loves to be difficult." He said, and your expression got even darker, as Jungkook desperately tried to find a way to diffuse the situation.
"Is that why you like to have us for dinner?" You asked, and both of them looked at you with questioning eyes. "Or is it more fun to fuck us first and then use us as slaves?" You bursted out, standing up as Namjoon looked genuinely caught off guard.
"Is that what they say on earth?" He asked, and you huffed out at that, moving into the furthest corner of the room, needing space. "It definetely does explain the hostility." He mumbled to himself, as Jungkook stood up, walking closer to you, but stopping when you yelled at him to.
"Okay, okay, I'll stay right here." He said, sitting down on the floor a few steps away from you as you hugged yourself in a pathetic way to comfort yourself. This was all getting too much. "If you don't want him here, I'm going to tell him to leave, okay? We don't have to do this now." He said, and you looked between him and Namjoon, uncertain. You may didn't have to face it now, but you had to eventually, right?
"We don't do any of that to humans, by the way." Namjoon suddenly chimed in, as you looked at him. "It's true that humans are being claimed, but they are not forced to do that. Most do it to ensure their safety, others do it out of romantic reasons, and some do it for the thrill, yes." He said. "But no, we don't keep them as slaves, no, we don't use them just for sex, and we certainly do not eat them." He said the last part with an almost humorous expression as you grew shy.
Well, this was awkward.
"Can you stop being difficult now, and let me do my job?" He asked with a more gentle tone now, before you nodded. You didn't walk over to him, however, still not trusting him as you decided to instead crawl onto Jungkooks lap, who happily took you into his arms as you looked over his shoulder at Namjoon, almost as if to say 'fuck you'. "You know, he won't always be there to-" He started, but Jungkook turned around as if offended.
"I will!" He said, holding you like a precious toy he'd just been gifted. "I mean- if she want's to." He mumbled, before Namjoon moved closer, shaking his head with a smile as he started to take your temperature first.
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It somehow felt as if he was belittling you. But for some reason, that was okay in some way, considering his bright smile every time he did it. It felt a bit weird at first, but now, after a few days, you felt almost at home with him. You didn't think about earth much, not wanting to spoil your mood while you were with him for that matter.
You were growing a bit more independent day by day however.
Still with his collar wrapped around your neck, since you wouldn't be allowed to roam the streets without one without getting stares left and right, you stopped at a grocery store.
Before leaving today, you had your first fight with the Alcorian.
"I'm not trying to keep you obedient Y/N, I'm trying to protect you!" He explained, trying not to get too riled up as he knew this could scare you.
"But you do! I can't do anything by myself, you're always hovering over me!" You said, and he looked at you in disbelief at that.
You felt so bad, still.
Now more than ever, as you were walking through isle after isle, every word more complicated than the next it seemed. You'd learned some words by now, but most were still a challenge- making it impossible for you to work things out by yourself without probably making a fool of yourself.
You left the grocery store after realizing you couldn't even pay for stuff since he was the one with the money, and it made you feel frustrated. You squatted down near the entrance, calling Jungkook pathetically.
"Little one? Are you okay?" He asked, as if you didn't just fight minutes ago. You sniffled, and he became even more concerned. "Are you still at the grocery store? I'm coming, just wait-" He said, as you chuckled a bit.
"I'm fine Jungkookie I just.. I'm sorry." You explained, as you heard a door close on the other side of the line. "I was horrible to you." You said, but he cut you off.
"Let's talk when I'm there, okay?" He said, and you agreed, waiting for him patiently, trying to ignore the stares and looks you got, some Alcorian kids even pointing at you before getting scolded by their parents.
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"I'm sorry." You said immediately as his figure approached you, already opening his arms to welcome you in his hug. "It was uncalled for, I was so mean, please don't hate me-" You said into his chest, as he chuckled.
"What're you doing little one?" He asked with a gentle smile as he looked down on you.
"Apologizing?" You said, and he smiled.
"I know, I'm familiar with that concept." He said, before continuing. "I mean, why? You were just stating your opinion on things." He said, and you felt even worse now.
"But I was mean, and rude to you! I shouldn't be so ungrateful, after all you've taken me in, you let me live with you, you provide me food and shelter, you keep me safe-" You began, as he chuckled again, ruffling your head.
"I do that because I want to. I'm responsible for you." He said, and you nodded.
"I'm sorry." You said again, and he continued smiling. "I managed to find some stuff like flour and Milk, but-" You started, as his eyes widened in wonder.
"You could read that?" He asked in disbelief, as you nodded.
"Yeah, but that's about it. I only picked up on a few words like caramel and stuff-" You explained, as he suddenly squeezed you into his arms, making you whince a bit at his strength. He immediately let go at the sound.
"Sorry sorry, it's just- whoah, my little human is so smart!" He said, genuinely excited over the mere fact that you could read a few words. "It took Taehyung Months to learn a couple of phrases, and here you are, already reading on your own!" He said, and you chuckled a bit at that. Taehyung was a human claimed by Namjoon and his partner Seokjin, who also had a second human by the name of Jimin. You'd met them for a bit prior, but hadn't had a true conversation with them yet. "Lets go then." He said, taking your hand into his as he walked into the store again with you.
Jungkook had slowly learned to hold your hand less tightly than he would usually do, his strength the reason for almost all of Namjoons visits to your now shared home. He didn't mean to hurt you, but it happened occasionally- and you always forgave him. He couldn't help it, and it was almost sweet to see him so upset over it straight after.
"Thats almond milk, right?" You asked, pointing at a carton with a label you thought said the words 'almond milk' on it. Jungkook beamed almost proudly.
"Yep!" He exclaimed, as he kept a hand on your back, a more comfortable gesture to show you he was by your side than holding hands. It was less likely for him to hurt you that way accidentally. "Let's get you something sweet too." He said with a smile, as you smiled back- for the first time, completely comfortable.
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"Jungkook?" You asked hesitantly, as you walked up behind the couch, making him turn around.
"Hm?" He wondered, turning the TV volume down lower. "What is it little one?" He asked, as you suddenly placed a couple of papers down onto the small table in front of him. He took them wordlessly, before he suddenly jumped up, head thrown towards you as his eyes were wide open, catlike pupils staring at you as they glazed over. "You-how-" He stuttered, as you swayed on the spot a bit shyly.
"I talked to Namjoon about it the other day. He helped me get all the paperwork stuff done since I can't read much still.." You said, and Jungkook walked over to you, picking you up as he twirled you both around, making you giggle.
The bold letters on the front page clearly reading;
'Official documents for legal human ownership.'
You wanted to be his.
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"Do alcorians kiss?" You randomly asked one day, laying on Jungkooks lap as he suddenly looked down towards you.
"We- uhm.. we do." He said, before swallowing the piece of sweets he was eating. "Why- why do you ask?" He wondered, and you simply shrugged.
"I kinda want to kiss you." You said.
And he almost choked.
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1K notes · View notes
icyymocha · 3 years
Text
Acts of Kindness
Warnings: Fluff, angst, Bucky loathing, insecurities
word count: 2,285 
Summary: From the beginning you both started dating, he was never one for showing affections, always opting to hold your hand; the bare minimum of showing any love to you physically. Bucky would show you his undying love for you through small acts of kindness and services. Throughout his life, the super-soldier was taught to be a gentleman. Always paying attention to his loved ones before he puts himself and his needs first. He’s always the believer who thought, ‘actions speak louder than words,’ kind of guy.
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Bucky was disoriented and bitter. He was emotionless but it never meant he never had his moments of vulnerability. When Bucky was brought back from the blip and experienced his best friend leaving him with Sam and getting the worst therapist, he was so, so, so tired. He disconnected everyone—even his other best friend, Sam Wilson. Having a bloodbath of a past, he couldn’t stand being in a room with people, fearing he would hurt them again. He wasn’t himself. That was until he met you. You were kind and understanding. Unlike everyone, you weren’t walking on eggshells whenever it’s about him. You always showed him that you only saw him as a person instead of a monster. Bucky feels a warm feeling whenever he’s around you, yet he’s always stifling himself whenever you show small gestures of kindness that make his knees go weak.
Bucky thought he was showing how he felt around you and others (even if all he does is grunt and stiffen or stare when people are around). It wasn’t always like that it was the opposite for you. You thought he hated your presence, always noticing how he stiffens like a wooden board. So you started to distance yourself. Only believing he hates you and noting how he doesn’t like what you do. Oh, If only you knew. The first few weeks when you weren’t doing your usual morning routines (he’s not a stalker, he’s an observant person, guys) Bucky was confused and frowned. He didn’t push it and nevertheless continued on his day—ignoring the yearning feeling for you. Then, another few weeks came by, and then a month and, so on. Bucky was frustrated. Why were you ignoring him? Did he do something wrong? Did you finally see the monster he truly was from the inside? No….
He shook the thought away. He couldn’t have you be afraid of him now, not now, not after when it’s your fault for giving him these strange feelings. Sam pointed out he had a crush on you, but he was a stubborn bull and bluntly said “it’ll go away.” Wrong. He was so wrong.
So, after weeks of planning, Bucky decided to show his first act of kindness towards you. He prepped himself to have a bit of confidence in the mirror, having Sam forcing telling him to ‘man up’ By the time it was time to go and meet you (Sam setting the both of you up), Bucky protested and complained. Knowing how much of an asshole he was and how he took your kindness for granted. At this point, Sam was annoyed and being the best wingman he is (no pun intended), shoved him out of his apartment and dragged his ass to the place where you both met. The park. It was simple yet cliché. But Bucky, he was more than glad he had met you—by err running into you and knocking you off the ground by accident. He profusely apologized yet you laughed it off as if it was nothing. Months after the blip, he thought no one would recognize him, but he was wrong. He simply forgot you used to work for Shield and was there during the fight against Thanos. How could he have ever forgotten about you? You were there, since day one during the civil war, had he not realized about your presence? Either way, he was ecstatic.
Seeing you there all dolled up, Bucky hesitated. Sam huffed and shoved him a bit further more into your direction; Bucky glared at him. Nervous was an understatement. But Bucky was more than nervous. Every bundle of nerves in his body wanted him to run away but his heart told him to express his feelings towards you. Clearing his throat, you turned around and was surprised to see him there. Not like you were complaining. Bucky was wearing his usual black clothing but he always looked handsome.
“I didn’t think to see you here Buck,” you said, surprise written all over your face
“Well me either” Bucky said bluntly
Stupid, stupid, stupid—he heard Sam say in his comm.
“I—uh, I mean, Sam forced me to meet you” Bucky coughed awkwardly
You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking upwards. His com is full of Sam’s ridiculous laughter and annoying remarks. He is so going to kill Sam.
“Well that’s unfortunate, too bad Sam’s missing out the fun,” you joked
The stiff tension in Bucky's shoulder relaxed a bit. Okay, good so far...
“Yeah, you’re right, doll”
Shifting his weight from one foot to another, Bucky looked down at the ground. Being around you was already making him shy away from but talking to you for the first time with a full conversation made his heartbeats rapidly
“Uh I got you something”
“Oh?”
Handing you a bag in your direction. Bucky waited until you looked inside. Anxiety eating him up to see how you react to his gift.
The bag in your hand felt heavy. You trusted Bucky, even more so than Sam (not like you’re ever gonna tell him that). You slowly opened the bag to see it filled with a variety of gifts. Your eyes widened.
Inside, there was a copy of your favorite mug you had broken during a food fight with Natasha. Next, were boxes of your favorite foods and chocolates. Then, a small amount of jewelry and a sweater with your favorite band. Others were some of your favorite novels. Last, was a letter? Wait, a letter from Bucky? That’s new.
You put down the gift bag and carefully opened the letter you assumed was written by Bucky.
Dear Y/n,
Uh, I don’t know where to start but nothing I do could match for all the acts of kindness you had shown me throughout the years.
I, uh, I’m sorry for all the shit you had to put up from me. I acted like an ass and I took everything for granted of your consideration for me. I never realized I hadn’t told you how I felt about you until you started to distance yourself around me. It’s not your fault, I understand.
Being known as a weapon from Hydra and a murder for killing the innocence of people, I understand if you’ve distanced yourself because of that. I never meant to scare you away. It’s quite far from that.
I always wanted to express how I felt around you. The way you gave me a warm feeling inside of me, made me feel loved and cared for. But I was never one for physical contact and I never know how to act around you nor tell you words about it. No words could ever describe what you mean to me, how much beauty you hold can have everyone look at you. If I’m being honest, you got me whipped and so is everyone else around your finger.
It was clear to me that I wasn’t always the best with people nor did I care enough to see how my actions or words could affect a person. I never realized I didn’t observe a person’s well-being enough to understand that this would create a drift between you and me. I’m sorry I never communicated with you—regardless even it’s just a quick yes or no question.
Sincerely,
James Buchanan Barnes.
It was eerily quiet. The tension between both couples was awkward. Bucky didn’t know whether to stay or leave and dig his grave six feet down in secondhand embarrassment. He quickly looked down at the ground, ashamed. He had a feeling he should’ve never written that letter to you, it was stupid and a dumb idea. Thoughts raced through his head; his fear of rejection of you leaving him. He lost so many people in his life, Bucky would’ve been devastated if you left because of him. It would be beyond the repair of what’s left of him that Bucky gave to you each day, pieces by pieces. Shallow breathes became heavier but Bucky gulped painfully, ignoring the burning feeling in his throat for a release of hot air.
What if this is the end? What if you hated him now? What if you left him because you found out who he truly was? What if you left because he never approached you as other people did? What if-
A gentle motion of a hand grazed his right bicep soothingly. He gulped even harder. This is it, Bucky tells himself. Yet no harsh words came at him nor did the mercilessness of a slap come towards him. But, two fingers grabbing a hold of his chin, forcing him to look up at the eyes that took his breath away.
“Bucky?” y/n whispered
closing his eyes, he waited for the rejection but it never came. He waited and waited. Feeling the warmth of two soft hands cradling his face, he leaned into their touch.
“This is really touching, thank you.” Y/n thanked, peppering kisses around his face. Their hands caressing his face, feeling the little stubbles underneath their fingers. Bucky’s whole body wanted to melt right then and there, already thinking how he needed their touch from now on.
Nuzzling into his neck, you murmured a sweet confession. Bucky already thought his heart had melted but no, it very much exploded—already so overwhelmed with this new profound feeling of love.
As much as Bucky savored the sweet moment with y/n, Sam had to interrupt it
“Are you lovebirds done yet?”
“I can’t stand watching an old man be all sappy,”
“Oooo Bucky's gonna get it,”
“We all know he’s gonna get laid y/n.”
Cue Sam fake gagging noises in Bucky’s com
Y/n giggled while Bucky clenched his jaw. His eyebrows furrowed and his crystal blue eyes darkened, he was ready to beat Sam’s ass for ruining the moment. You watched as Sam screamed for his life in and out of the park while a certain super soldier shouted profanities at him. It went on for a while. And during those moments, you recorded it all and saved a backup just in case to tease Sam about it. (You’ll never forget how Sam screamed like a little girl)
From the beginning you both started dating, he was never one for showing affections, always opting to hold your hand; the bare minimum of showing any love to you physically. Bucky would show you his undying love for you through small acts of kindness and services. Throughout his life, the super-soldier was taught to be a gentleman. Always paying attention to his loved ones before he puts himself and his needs first. He’s always the believer who thought, ‘actions speak louder than words,’ kind of guy.
He would always show ways of his way of saying, “I love you,” by refilling your cup in the mornings. Always made sure you were fed and hydrated throughout the day. He would ask if you need anything for personal needs, replacing your nightly skin routine when he thinks it’s almost finished. 
Whenever you have errands to run or missions to accomplish, Bucky always insisted to come with you whether you like it or not. He’s always so protective towards you and his biggest fear is ever losing you. He could never imagine hurting you or having you get hurt by something or someone without him being there to rescue you in time. A lot of insecurities were passing through his head, having that one voice in the dark corners of his mind, always wondering why? Why did you choose him? Bucky only saw his reflection nothing more but a weapon. A freak. When you found out about his insecurities, you made sure he was your first priority, always giving him extra love and attention. 
So, when weeks have passed by after that incident. Bucky found out you were a very affectionate person, more so before the two of you had gotten into a relationship. You loved feeling the arms of your lover; always feeling safe. You quickly learned that Bucky is now your personal coddler for warmth the first time he hugged you as you loved the sentiment and the thoughts of being held in a warm embrace. 
From then on, as Bucky kept pampering you, ignoring your protests and complaints, he made sure every need of yours was taken care of. Whenever Bucky feels like you are having a bad down overall, he would quietly take you to your guy’s shared bedroom and cuddle in silence, occasionally lazily tracing patterns and shapes to your back. Bucky was never the one to voice out his love, always thinking intimacy is better than a couple of futile words that cannot be compared to much love he has for you. If he wanted to, Bucky would shout out compliments and his love for you to the world yet it would never be enough. It would never be enough in his mind. You were his. And he would always make sure that his love is heard, whether he silently does so. The whole moment felt like a blur. Everything went by eerily quickly. Two years felt like two days being in a relationship together. Yet, Bucky is still the man who believes in, “Actions speak louder than words.” Nevertheless, he would never resist your charms and soft touches here and there. Those loving moments between the two of you as you cuddle in bed after a night full of passion, lazily tracing shapes and patterns on your guys' skin. Even if you had to do it in private, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
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shoichee · 3 years
Note
ok hear me out. aomine x f!reader who’s on the tennis team and is amazing at it. for a while the reader and her team need to share the gym on the same days as basketball practice. during the days they share the gym aomine notices the reader. somehow aomine finds out the reader is also good at basketball, practically at aomine’s level. you can decide what happens!! it can be a head cannon or a type of one shot :)
I AM HEARING YOU OUT ANON, WE HAVE ANOTHER BANGER REQUEST THIS IS FIRE look inhale, what a genius, okay so i don’t play tennis myself, but I have a lot of friends who do... and trust me.... it’s a lot more exertive and difficult than what it appears to be
Aomine x f!Reader
[Headcanons]
if Aomine was a monster on the basketball courts, you were a monster on the tennis courts
the only reason why he hasn’t heard about you until he first saw you was because tennis tends to be not as a popular and broadcasted sport as basketball // the tennis games themselves are often single-player (doubles exist too but still less people on the same court) and relatively quiet with few audience members watching too
it was a MIRACLE that Aomine was there at the gym today (thank Wakamatsu for threatening to burn his porno mag), and luckily for him, he didn’t even had to practice as hard because the tennis club had an agreement with Touou’s basketball coach to occupy the other half of the gym
enter you, putting down your duffel bag and stretching before you do a few warmup tosses and hits against the gym wall while the nets were being set up
for the first half of practice, both sides were busy with their own practices, so Aomine hasn’t really noticed you
it was until the team got a break to catch their breath that Aomine noticed that the tennis team were still doing drills and practice matches; every single eye was drawn to you
Sakurai immediately comments on how your movements were too similar to Aomine’s, and Imayoshi is equally intrigued that you might as well be the tennis-version of Aomine
at the chatter, Aomine slightly perks up and looks to where everyone was pointing at (you), and quietly watches you while still looking “bored,” until he realized how right they were
your agility is top-notch and your instincts to immediately sprint to the right direction were insane; your change of pace from 0 to 10 in acceleration were even more seamless than Aomine’s at times, especially when you stand at a ready position and suddenly burst to the other side of the court to save the ball from the corner
not to mention you have your own fair share of trickshots and unpredictability in trying various ways to tire out your opponent in chasing after the balls you hit
Sakurai loudly wonders that if you played basketball, would you even be able to defeat Aomine?? and the entire team STARTS ANALYZING AND DISCUSSING amongst themselves and doing bets LMAO
Aomine’s impressed, but he’s still somewhat “meh” about it, since “the only one who could beat me is me” is still an attitude he carries around, and you do give off a vibe similar to Kise where you could easily copy techniques easily if you do play basketball other than tennis
little did Aomine know, you also noticed his exceptional skill with the ball and how he can do trickshots and dunks with ease… you turn to your friend and ask if that’s even possible
your friend stares incredulously at you and asks, “How do you not know? He’s one of the Generation of Miracles!”
of course you didn’t know if you’ve been focused on tennis all your life, but being in the sports world, the title of “Generation of Miracles” does ring a familiar bell
your friend (who’s also your partner during doubles matches) also plays a little bit of other sports on the side, including basketball, and during breaks, your friend would often ask you to play a small game together because seeing the Touou basketball team playing got them pumped up
your athletic ability would translate very easily into basketball, since having reflexes, agility, instincts, and change of pace would all be advantageous in sports that require mobility (just like how Koganei’s instincts from tennis were very useful in Seirin)
so whether or not you played basketball didn’t matter dramatically because you had skills and abilities that would be universally beneficial in most sports anyways
you always gave your friend a run for their money when you kept stealing their ball, did fast breaks, or pulled off agile maneuverings that no beginner player would be able to do, and whenever your tennis teammates did their “ooh’s” and “ah’s,” the basketball team would peer over to see what the commotion was about
they were LOSING their shit at how naturally talented you were at basketball, and Imayoshi has a bad great idea of inviting you over after practice to do some quick one-on-ones with Aomine for his own entertainment
Aomine is kind of excited if he was being honest, and his blood is kinda pumping and he’s a bit giddy to find a potential rival other than Kagami
Momoi is a little worried for you because Aomine might be a brute and hurt you, especially since you’re a girl, but she’s just as excited to see someone potentially knocking down his ego a shit ton if he loses
Momoi and Imayoshi both walk up to you on the last day of “shared” practice at the gym and ask if you can spare some time to do some one-on-ones with Aomine, and you agree because you don’t have much to do anyways
your friend is super excited for you but a little nervous at how you’re so casual in going against a GoM, but nevertheless, both the tennis and basketball teams are in the audience watching Momoi throwing up the jump ball (Aomine is giving you an arrogant smirk and you’re just standing there more focused on the ball than him LMAO)
as expected, Aomine easily grabs the ball (since he knows the rhythm in jumping for this a lot better) and immediately starts dribbling down the court at an inhuman speed, expecting a swift victory
nope, you immediately reacted to his speed and immediately cut off his drive when you’re right in front of him… and you immediately swiped for the ball, Aomine almost didn’t react fast enough to switch handles to escape your reach
but you immediately reacted and reach for his other dribbling hand and slap the ball away, and then you bolted with the ball down your court
Aomine is right behind you, shocked out of his wits, and everyone else is in HYSTERICS in the background
“HOLY SHIT, did you see that?!”
“(y/n), kick his ass!”
“Ho? Aomine, you’re letting her beat you so easily?”
“I knew those porn mags didn’t do anything good for him.”
“U-Um, Wakamatsu-san…”
Aomine thinks it’s a fluke that you got the ball from him, but he’s shocked because you weren’t exactly a Kise, and you even had a reaction time similar to Akashi’s on top of that
he tries to steal the ball back, but you did something unpredictable: using a similar movement when you hit the tennis ball with your racket, you slapped the ball to bounce (at an unfamiliar speed/rhythm) through his legs before you sprinted to dribble the ball in a normal drive again
shooting was a different story though because Aomine is always blocking your shots or stealing it before you can even get into a shooting position; after all, shooting requires use of muscles different to when playing tennis
even so, you made it equally hard for him to score
ultimately, Aomine’s superb shooting abilities expectantly made him won the short match, but he even had to resort to some crazy trickshots, so your reflexes would kick in slower than normal to register those shots
for those who have no clue about tennis (spoiler alert: me), a tennis racket is a lot more bulkier and heavier than it appears to be (much different than a badminton racket), and it takes a lot of arm strength to play with it very fluidly without wasting energy
thus, dribbling was easy for you, and your ball handling was pretty unique but still very hard to keep track of
now Aomine won, but everyone is losing their shit at the fact that you managed to get him to sweat so much and putting in effort (cue Wakamatsu and Imayoshi trying to recruit you to join as Aomine’s practice buddy to get the Touou ace to practice for once)
now, if it was a two-on-two match, you and your friend would definitely destroy Aomine and whoever would be unfortunate enough to be his partner (cough, Sakurai), for the sole reason that your impeccable teamwork in tennis doubles carries over to basketball matches, where Aomine has always been a solo star player
you damn know well that Aomine would constantly bug you to do one-on-ones with him, but he’s secretly whipped for you and doesn’t know how else to ask you to hang out with him other than a match LMAO
you do remind him that you’re a tennis player first, and you prioritize your team above all else; that means if there’s tennis practice, you’re going to those no matter what
that just reminded him of Kuroko (nostalgia, angst, and feels enter here)
he reluctantly shows up to watch your tennis practices along with Momoi because sleeping on the roof has gotten “boring,” and Momoi finds incentive in finding any techniques she can pick up from you to use for basketball strategies
he may have secretly watched your tennis matches, both singles and doubles
you definitely have watched Aomine’s matches, noticing there’s something odd with him at times, like he wasn’t trying his best like he did with you
after a heartfelt talk with Momoi, you do feel like he needs to get out of that mindset on his own, since his stubborn personality wouldn’t listen to you and you knew that from the amount of one-on-ones you played with him
then the Winter Cup came and Seirin won in their “revenge match” against Touou, and you were captivated by Aomine going ALL OUT in that match (you also took some notes to use for your own tennis matches)
Aomine drags both you and Momoi to buy some new basketball shoes after Touou’s loss, and from that point on, both of you are technically practicing basketball together, but like… you’re not complaining because you’re getting extra cardio in
you get better at basketball, enough to even beat him once in a blue moon in one-on-ones, but then he wins the rest of the matches against you tenfold LOL
Momoi loves you because you’re one of his main motivators to practice
when Aomine himself tries to play tennis singles with you, it’s quite hilarious to see him missing the tennis ball every time when he serves because it’s so TINY but it’s so heavy?? so it falls to the ground quite literally if he’s not precise in hitting it LOL
gauging distance between the net, back of the court, the ball, and his arm positioning is a nightmare for Aomine because he’s used to grand courts and GIANT distances and TALL hoops, and him being precise and meticulous in a much smaller area feels so restricting
of course you whoop his ass in tennis, that’s a given
give him some time though, he’d be really good at it really quickly once he adapts to his surroundings
bonus: Koganei FREAKS out seeing you in the Winter Cup in the audience because you’re a literal tennis legend, and the entire Seirin team is going ???? at him // he totally fanboys a bit and asks you to meet with his Seirin teammates, and you agree because you wanted to meet the team who gave Touou and Aomine a run for their money
you do one-on-ones with Kagami because you’re curious, and when Aomine hears of this… it’d be a CHAOTIC scene once he storms over to drag you away from Seirin
extra bonus: it’s not unusual to see you use your tennis racket to thwack him in the head when he gets any funny ideas of staring at your teammates’ shorts/tennis skirts or when he’s doing anything dumb in general
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binniesthighs · 3 years
Text
EIGHT LEVELS, THE DESCENT
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CWs: death, bits of horror and fear, hellish things 
Descent 
you had never imagined death to be something like this. 
with careful footsteps you followed the hollow sound of metal on rock, metal on metal, metal on skin. 
you were scared, but a thrill crept up your throat like none other. it bubbled in the pit of your stomach and fluttered like butterflies through each and every nerve of your body. 
the hallway was dark, nearly pitch black, save for the light at the end of the hall. it seemed like it must've been the size of a pinhead from as far as you were. you thought to yourself, that this must be your punishment: walking on and on forever towards a light that you could never reach. 
seemed reasonable enough. you were not saint...if this was hell anyway. 
sweltering hot heat caught up to you as you walked on, and it singed your skin with a burn that only grew over time. your brow beaded with sweat, and your legs felt heavier with each step. 
at the same time, you felt a deathly chill: a piercing kind of cold that you could only describe as loneliness and emptiness. the two temperatures fought a terrible tryst, and your body could not decide if the shivers ailing you reminded you were really dead, or if by some mistake you had been mixed up in some devils game. 
you don’t remember dying. does anyone? you didn’t know. you can’t exactly ask someone. 
in your shock, you realize that the pinhead of light was growing larger and larger before your squinting eyes. now, the sounds of metal were replaced with wails in despair intertwined with something much different. 
ungodly sounds of pain and pleasure filled the dense air, and moaning and groaning spilled into your ears with some kind of cacophony that made little sense. 
the light approached closer and it became blinding: the kind of blinding light that you had always imagined death to be like. maybe you really had died. 
what you had seen at the end of the tunnel, was not at all what you had expected. 
a reception room. a normal one, like the ones at a hospital. 
am I a ghost? you wonder. is my soul trapped in the place that I died? 
a normal looking nurse in a normal looking nurse’s uniform waves you over. 
“me?” you mouth. 
she nods. 
she gives a curt little smile, and pats down her sterile looking baby blue scrubs. she wears no nametag, and the only thing distinguishing her is the fiery red nail polish that decorates her nails. her eyes are kind, a kind of hazel brown that looks to be a dozen different colors at once. 
“welcome!” she greets. 
“...thank you?” you return. 
“how can I help you today?” the nurse beams. her smile is perfectly white, but her teeth crooked. 
“i...don’t know.” 
she asks outright: “do you have your key?”
“my key?” 
you note that there is no one else in the waiting room besides you. light streams in from the windows, but it is pale and white, like the kind of sun on a cloudy day full of grey. the air smells dusty, old...and burnt. 
“yes?” she cocks her head. “you should have a key?” 
“i-i don’t think that I have anything...” 
a weight pulls down the pocket of your jeans and you see the bulging fabric. 
a brass key makes the imprint. it looks ancient and is a bit rusted on the edges. there is nothing too complicated about the skeleton key except for the fact that the head of the key is shaped to the number eight. 
“what...”
“ah! that’s the key. well, it looks like you’ve got an eight. that’s wonderful.” 
the nurse looks down at her desk to her paperwork, but the white sheets of paper hold no writing or ink. 
“says here that you qualify for all eight levels--just as your key says! well, now i’ll show you to your first room and you can just wait patiently in there for it to begin.” 
“it? i’m sorry, what is “it”?” 
“you’ll see soon enough dear.” 
through her crooked teeth you catch sight of her tongue, and at looks as if it is split: forked like a serpent. 
“this way!” she rouses from her desk. 
the waiting room remains empty when you follow the nurse behind a frosted glass door and into yet another hallway, but this one is illuminated with a flickering green-ish white light. the hall is quiet, and no other patients in rooms can be heard. no talking voices, no crying children, no moans mixed in pain and pleasure. 
“hold onto that key! you’ll need it. that’s all i’ll say!” the nurse nods, and her hazel eyes change color as they’ve been doing under the lights, and you can’t quite tell what color they are. 
“wait!” you reach out to her, a million more questions swimming. before you can get another word out, the door is promptly shut with a slam that seems to shake the whole room. 
the examination room seems normal, just as the nurse seemed to be at first. it is a windowless place, and you almost miss the grey light from the waiting room. a chair is positioned in the corner and the examination table is covered in white paper that crinkles when you sit on it. 
i can’t be dead. she shouldn’t've seen me. 
a lock on the wall ticks and your heartbeats match the rhythm, beating thickly in your chest. 
your eyes close tightly and you draw back your memory as far as you can take it. 
i’m asleep. i’m asleep. that’s it. i’ve fallen asleep. this is a dream. 
your eyes open, and there he is, back to you, facing the wall. 
your whole body jumps from the scare, and your chest aches with fearful gasps. 
his skin is nearly inhumanly pale and white, but peaking muscles curve under his leather vest. muscled arms stretch out bare, and every single twitch of his equally toned legs flare under his skin-tight pants. by contrast, red leather bands wrap around his arms and thighs. thick, long, silver chains drip from his wrists--it would’ve been impossible to get them in their quietly without you knowing. his hair is starkly white, much like untouched snow. 
“you have your key?” he growls. 
your voice is dry when you answer “yes.” 
the man turns. rather than the beast that you had expected, he is handsome: some kind of godly form that glows with a kind of white light even when he looks at you with his icy blue eyes. 
his sharp cheekbones are astonishing and serious. he studies you and you shy away to crinkle the paper under you. 
“you’re new.” he simply says. “we’re going to like you.” 
“w-we?” 
the man chuckles with a kind of laugh that seems to reverberate in your chest. with a wicked smile that nearly cracks the corners of his mouth, he leans in. you’re frozen in your horror when he whispers into your ear: 
“welcome to hell.” 
┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈
EIGHT LEVELS | READER X OT8 | 1k SPECIAL 
Pairing: self insert, female reader, male reader, gender neutral reader x ot8 
Genre: pure smut, angst 
Tags: explicit sexual content, explicit language, minor pain play, bondage, impact play, sensory deprivation, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, throat fucking, use of pet names, degredation, shibari, pet play, sex toys, orgasm denial, marking, exhibitionism, threesome, foursome, general debauchery and more 
CWs: mentions of death, blood, hellish things and slight horror elements 
Word count: ?? 
aka the hardest thing that i will have written to this date. can you endure the pain and pleasure of eight of hell’s most sinful demons? 
~if you would liked to be tagged on this piece, let me know! 
Bunch of (Ro)ses! 
@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop
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hongism · 3 years
Text
mists of celeste ➻ 31
➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 9.4k (._.) ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you
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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part six
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“Need help with the dishes?” The voice catches off-guard, and you nearly chuck the ceramic plate in your hands across the cramped kitchen in your surprise.
“Shit, you scared — oh.” You don’t mean to sound so shocked but seeing San standing beside you at the sink is the last thing you were expecting. He just offers a weak smile, one that is strained and wavering but present nonetheless, and that gives you a little bit of hope about the ensuing conversation. He has effectively cornered you, and while you could make a daring escape and leave him to do the dishes on his own, that would be both suspicious and unnecessary when San isn’t showing any signs of anger at the moment.
“Is that a yes or no?”
“Oh, um, be my guest, yeah. I’d… I’d appreciate the help,” you mutter, pulling your chin forward again to focus on the steady stream of water from the faucet. San settles next to you without missing a beat; he snatches up a dish towel and begins to take the dishes you’ve set out on the drying rack, carefully drying each one with methodical twists of his wrists. You aren’t sure how best to make conversation with him given the tense exchange you had earlier, so you opt to say nothing at all in hopes that San will be the one to initiate the confrontation. It works in your favor (the only thing on your side at the moment it seems) and after a few minutes of awkward silence, San finally speaks up.
“Earlier… when we were on the mission, I – I was unfair to you.”
“You were well within your right, San,” you respond as quickly as possible, not giving yourself a chance to think twice.
“That doesn’t mean it was right.”
“I don’t hold it against you.” You pause to heave a deep sigh. You’re running out of dishes far too quickly which means that you’ll actually have to face San rather than hiding as best you can with the dishes in the sink. “To be frank, I figured you would still be upset with me.”
“I don’t think I realized the weight of the decision on your shoulders,” San explains. Ceramic hits metal before he can speak again, and you both tense from the sharpness of the sound. San inhales with the noise then shifts the plate he just hit on the side of the counter to set it down properly. “We put the responsibility on your shoulders because you’re the only one who knew of the serum and experienced it firsthand. Looking back, it seems foolish of me to say that I should make the decision rather than Mingi. Not because he made the decision I wanted but… because the moral weight of choice is heavier than what’s good and what’s not. At least it should be.”
You set the plate in your hands down to face San, twisting at the waist at the same time he does, and the sudden eye contact causes your mind to go completely blank in the blink of an eye.
“Uh…” Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately attempt to bring the thought back but it’s already too far gone and you’ve forgotten it completely. San offers a patient and gentle smile, eyes folding into soft crescents as he does, and a quiet laugh slips from his lips.
“Sorry for hitting you with the heavy stuff right after dinner. I just didn’t want to let it sit and stew for too long.”
“No, no, it’s fine, I don’t mind. I’m – well, I’m a bit curious about something.” you shut the water off for the time being so that you can better focus on the conversation at hand, and the remaining dirty dishes lie forgotten in the sink.
“What’s that?” San tilts his head to the side. You find yourself distracted by the way a few strands of black hair slip to frame his forehead and how his dimples slip away as his smile fades a bit, but you’re quick to pull yourself back.
“Yesterday you asked me whether I would be okay with using the serum if you asked for it. But I wanted to know… if our positions were switched, would you be okay with it?”
“You mean if I were the one who had already taken it once before?” San inquires, head falling further to the side. You’re quick to nod in response, and he follows up with a gentle hum. “I can’t pretend to know what that experience was like for you or how deeply it affected you. If I were the one who had used it before, and I was aware of it like you, I know that I would be selfish at the end of the day. I have mentioned it before but I wish to cling to you for as long as I can. And though it’s – though it goes against my morals, I would not want you to take the serum because I can’t bear the thought of you forgetting who I am and how I feel about you. I know that sounds a bit bold, especially given your relations with Seonghwa, but… I would say the same to any member of the crew — save for Yeosang perhaps. You all are special and valuable to me in unique ways, and the thought of any of you losing any memory we share is too much for me.”
Your breath catches a bit in your throat, and San’s kind smile returns in full force. When you next speak, it doesn’t feel as though the words are coming from your mouth at all, but more like someone has taken over your body and decided to say them instead.
“Would you expect the same of me in return?”
“I would only ask that which I would ask any of the crew. To do what is right by your own standards and not by anyone else’s. We’ve all been slaves to other people’s whims and desires for too long. I would never wish to put anyone through that again, and even something as simple as pushing my opinion onto you would be unfair. It may be in our nature as living, rational beings to seek out the things that bring us the most comfort and to try to create a space around us that provides that comfort. Thus we are by nature selfish and striving towards personal satisfaction. We can’t break free of that selfishness unless we really stop to think about things. Hongjoong told me that once, and it hasn’t left me since.”
“Ah, so he can be reasonable,” you remark through a small smile, breaking a bit of the heaviness lingering in the air around you two. San laughs in response.
“Only when he’s sober and fully rested, but he’s rarely not one of those things.”
“Hey, Y/N, I brought more dishes for you to—oh I didn’t know you were in here too.” Both you and San whip to face the newcomer as he steps into the already cramped kitchen.
“Oh, hell no, Choi Jongho, I am not washing all those dishes for you!” You protest immediately upon seeing the stack of plates and bowls in his hands.
“What do you mean you won’t? It’s not even that hard! Seonghwa’s food doesn’t stick to the plates. All you have to do is give it a quick scrub!”
“Okay, then you do it!”
“Why would I do it?”
“You just said it’s easy! That’s basically signing up to do dishes.” You jab a finger in Jongho’s direction before he can say anything else and effectively shush him.
“She’s got you there,” San chimes in. Jongho rolls his eyes in response but comes closer to the sink to take your place.
“This is just mean. I’m the only one here who hasn’t had a nap today, and yet I’m being forced to stay up later? Disgusting,” Jongho huffs through his teeth. You pat his shoulder with a thin smile before stepping around him to leave the kitchen.
“Don’t pout so much, Jongho. I’ll stick around to dry the dishes for you.” Jongho merely grumbles in response to San’s offer, earning himself a sharp slap to the back of the head. “Ungrateful little shit.”
“Bigger than you th–”
“Oh, so you want to do them alone now?” San scoffs. You laugh over your shoulder before stepping out of the kitchen to return to the mess hall. It’s cleared out considerably already; Wooyoung and Yeosang have disappeared, as has Mingi, and the only two left are Yunho and Seonghwa, who stand at the edge of the room engaged in a conversation that’s loud enough for you to hear even at your distance from them.
“Would you go up to check on Hongjoong? At least make sure he sleeps even for an hour tonight?” Seonghwa asks, jerking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bridge.
“You’re not going back up tonight?”
“No, contrary to popular belief, I actually need rest too so I’ll be turning in earlier tonight.”
“Hm, unbelievable,” Yunho huffs, but there’s a small smile pressed over his lips as he says the words. His gaze flits away from Seonghwa’s face to find you standing at the edge of the kitchen, and in an instant, his expression shifts to one of surprise then a hurried glance down to the floor the moment you make eye contact. Seonghwa mimics the motion of his eyes, following their path back to you. He passes you a soft smile, and you return it with your own strained one, too focused on Yunho at the moment. The doctor continues to avoid your stare though and drags his attention back to Seonghwa instead. “Um, yeah, I’ll go up and see him. We’re long overdue for a talk anyway.”
“A talk?” You can’t see Seonghwa’s expression but the tone of his voice tells you enough, and Yunho sucks his lower lip between his teeth before tilting his head to the side.
“Is that jealousy I hear, Lieutenant?” He arches a brow as he speaks, arms coming up to cross over his chest in an almost defensive manner.
“Are you trying to pick a fight, Healer?” Seonghwa counters. The lightness in the conversation disappears in an instant, and Yunho’s eyes blaze at the accusation hurled his way. “I’d advise you not to comment on things you don’t understand, Yunho. You might be a doctor, but that doesn’t mean you know everything. It’s no good to be so deceived by those things, no?”
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re the one trying to start a fight, Seonghwa.”
“Merely reminding you not to cross certain lines. I believe we had discussed that in the past already, and yet… here we find ourselves having to have this conversation again.”
“And I thought you learned your lesson when Hongjoong threatened to put you out the airlock.” Yunho’s tone is far too hot and scathing for your liking, and you shrink further back against the wall in an attempt to hide yourself as best you can. He seems to have forgotten about your presence already in the heat of the argument, which you’re thankful for but you don’t feel any more comfortable being stuck in the room. Especially because of what happens next when Seonghwa’s hand darts out to catch hold of Yunho’s collar. He swivels the taller man as though he weighs nothing and presses him hard against the wall. The impact is enough to draw a grunt out of Yunho but he keeps his head up to glare back at Seonghwa.
“I wasn’t the one who started fucking someone else less than a month later. I guess you both have that in common then. Did you even wait for the ashes to grow cold before you were rolling around in the captain’s bed like some cheap wh—”
Seonghwa doesn’t get to finish the thought, and part of you is grateful that you don’t have to hear the rest of it. The other half is horrified because Yunho’s fist careens into Seonghwa’s jaw, knocking him off the taller man. Yunho swings a kick at Seonghwa’s feet next to push him all the way to the floor, but the other man is too quick and shoves Yunho’s leg away before it can hit him.
“I’m not going to fight you, Yunho,” Seonghwa hisses, slipping further back to put more distance between him and the healer.
“Then let me beat you up for having the audacity to act like you know what I was going through!”
“Yet you stand here and act like I’m the bad guy and the one who did the wrong thing  in saying that his obsession was killing him.”
Yunho forces his way back into Seonghwa’s personal space, chest heaving as he brings his hands up to the other man and shoves harshly. Seonghwa manages to maintain his balance and stay on his feet despite the force behind the attack, but that only serves to anger Yunho more because he sneers and repeats the motion once more to knock Seonghwa into a table. Seonghwa grabs onto the edge of the metal to stabilize himself. Yunho takes advantage of the distraction and swings his fist back into Seonghwa’s face, hitting him across the cheekbone this time, and the hit is so hard that blood comes off on Yunho’s knuckles when he pulls his hand back.
The sight of crimson spurs you into action, and you push off the wall to rush over to where Yunho has Seonghwa pinned against the table.
“Yunho, that’s enough!” You cut in, reaching out to snatch Yunho’s arm before he can deliver another hit. He fights against your tight grip to the best of his ability and manages to pull free only to swing his hand back at you. You barely register what happens next but Seonghwa’s reaction is clue enough to help you figure it out, along with the burning sting across your left cheek. Seonghwa shoves Yunho’s weight off him, and the taller man stumbles back in shock. He blinks down at his hand as though he can’t believe what he’s just done, but you have no time to pay attention to that because Seonghwa steps in front of you, hands coming up to cradle your face.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need ice?” He rambles as he examines your cheek with a worried gaze. It’s as though the blood on his own cheek doesn’t exist and he just continues to thumb over your face.
“I-I didn’t mean to — I swear, I promise I wasn’t thinki–”
“Fuck off, Yunho,” Seonghwa hisses over his shoulder. “Before we both do something we regret.”
Yunho leaves the room in the direction of the bridge in a way you can only compare to a wounded dog scampering off with his tail between his legs, and once he’s completely gone from sight, the adrenaline of the moment begins to wear off. You release a shaky exhale, nearly trembling in Seonghwa’s grasp. He swallows once.
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he murmurs a few seconds later.
“And let him beat you to a pulp the day before a mission? I think not.” You reach up to grab onto one of Seonghwa’s hands, pulling it away from your face.
“I would have been fine. You, on the other hand—”
“What?” You interject. You have to bite back the sigh that threatens to leave your lips. “On the other hand what? I’m fragile?”
“That’s not – I didn’t it like that. Please… Y/N, please don’t fight with me on this. That’s not my intention.” Seonghwa clenches his fingers around the ones that still reside against his palm, and you let him cling to you without complaint for the time being. “Had he done anything more to hurt you, I fear what I might have done in response, and I – I truly did not want to fight with him. I let my emotions get the better of me in the heat of the moment.”
“What’s done is done, Seonghwa,” you mutter in response. “Let me at least clean your cheek and get some ice on it. It’ll do you no good to have a swollen face tomorrow.” Seonghwa huffs out a laugh but lets his hands fall away from you and rest limply by his sides.
“If it makes you feel better, then you can do whatever you like.” You can’t keep from smiling at his words, the soft smile he wears easing your anxiety quite a bit, and you shake your head.
“Don’t tell me that. Who knows what unsavory things I could come up with?” You tease through a laugh.
“I’d hope for at least a few ideas.”
“Okay, tiger, maybe you got hit a bit too hard.” You swat weakly at Seonghwa’s arm as he just chuckles and pulls away to move towards the exit. You fall into step with him, gnawing at your lower lip for no other reason than to busy yourself as the two of you walk to the medbay. “You don’t—” you cut yourself short before the thought can finish and bite down hard on the tip of your tongue. Seonghwa blinks down at you with expectation shining clearly in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to but… what exactly was it you two were arguing about?”
Seonghwa hums to himself and glances down at the floor for several moments before lifting his chin again.
“I have never attempted to purposefully hide it from you as that would hardly be fair to you. But I can explain things better once we’re in the medbay.”
You nod quickly, gaze trailing over the side of Seonghwa’s profile in your peripheral. He doesn’t offer further conversation, but it’s clear that that is only because he is deep in thought on the short walk to the medbay. Even as you step into the blindingly white room, he stays quiet and seats himself on the edge of one of the beds while you busy yourself with searching for supplies to clean his bleeding cheek. You come back to him after grabbing some soap and a bottle of water then set a pack of white cleaning pads next to him on the bed. He shifts his chin to expose his cheek further to you. You murmur a quiet thank you, fingers dancing over his face to keep him in place. Whether by instinct or intention, Seonghwa’s hands dart up to secure on your hips. He keeps you firmly set between his knees, and you try your best to ignore the sudden tightness in your chest as he holds you.
“Hongjoong and I…” Seonghwa starts, his tone so quiet that it is nearly drowned out by the hum of the air conditioner. You wet one of the cotton rounds in silence. You don’t dare to look him in the eye, focusing on the task at hand while he continues to speak. “We used to be in a special sort of relationship. We weren’t romantically or sexually involved right off the bat – it took quite some time for that to happen. In fact, it was only after there was a mutiny that we decided to explore those parts of our relationship, and initially, it was just my way of offering him comfort in the aftermath of that mess. Things, of course, got more complicated as feelings arose on my side. I found myself to be quite jealous in certain regards, and that jealousy blinded me to the bigger picture more often than not.”
You drag the damp round over Seonghwa’s cheekbone, and he winces from the impact.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter quickly, pulling your hand back, but Seonghwa reaches up to guide your hand back to his cheek.
“It’s fine. You can continue.” You nod through a rough swallow. As you continue to wipe at his cheek, Seonghwa continues with his story. “The man who led the mutiny was… Hongjoong’s lover to put it simply. I had always loved Hongjoong but it wasn’t anything more than a platonic love until after we started having relations. He wasn’t ready to let go of the past though, and I-I was blindsided by jealousy one night to a point where I threw out some of that man’s belongings one day. When Hongjoong found out, he was furious, of course, and that was the first and only time we had a physical fight. That’s what Yunho was referring to when he mentioned Hongjoong threatening to kick me off the ship and into space. Even after we recovered from that struggle, it never stopped because Hongjoong would tear himself apart over the mutiny. He got more and more obsessed in the next couple of months, and I decided that I couldn’t handle it any longer. So I gave him an ultimatum: stop being sexually involved with each other or stop being involved altogether. It’s clear which option he chose.”
“I sense a ‘however’…” You murmur, leaning back to admire your work on his cheek. Seonghwa huffs out a laugh, and his fingers twitch against your waist.
“Less than a month later Hongjoong was fucking Yunho right under my nose without a care in the world.” You inhale sharply, fingers wavering against Seonghwa’s jawline. “Didn’t even care that I knew, didn’t care to hide it from me, didn’t see any issue with it at all. On one hand, it felt like a jab at me for catching feelings the way I did because he could just… fuck around with Yunho and separate emotions from it whereas I couldn’t. But then I confronted Yunho about it, and he told me that Hongjoong only ever asked for sex when he couldn’t get out of his own head. Needed someone to fuck his thoughts out of him. I was glad that I didn’t have to be that person for him out of a selfish desire to preserve myself but… I was used to being the one who had the duty of protecting him and helping him through whatever issues he was having. It just took a look time to work through that on my own, and I couldn’t very well ask Yunho to talk about it with me because of a misguided arrogance.”
“Do you…” You lose confidence halfway through the question, and your tone falls flat. Seonghwa waits without saying a word for you to continue the thought. “Do you still love him?”
“Not in that way any longer,” Seonghwa whispers. His lips barely move, but you hear the words as clear as day. “I see the parts of him that I loved elsewhere now… but I’m quickly finding new things to love in that same place that I couldn’t see in him.”
Your jaw stutters dumbly as you try to process the words.
“Oh,” you exhale, too overwhelmed to come up with anything else.
“And if she would let me, I would do my best to show her new things to love in me as well.”
“I… is there another w-woman on the crew I don’t know about?”
Seonghwa smiles. His teeth bite into his lower lip as he struggles to hold back a smile, and his hands slip further around you to hold you tighter. You only realize how dumb your question sounds at that moment.
“I, um, I me-meant tha—” The tightness in your chest is too intense for you to finish your sentence, and the weight of his words hit you full force at last. You don’t even realize that tears have begun to fall until Seonghwa’s brows knit together in concern and one of his hands reaches up to brush them off your cheeks.
“Shh, shh, you’re okay, Y/N,” Seonghwa murmurs. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N, what’s going on?”
You need to communicate, to explain to him what’s going on in your head in words and be honest with him, but every word feels like lead on your tongue. Your lips are wobbling as you cradle Seonghwa’s face in your hands, eyes scanning his face in search of answers to all the questions running through your mind. At one point you truly thought that you saw Jisung in Seonghwa and that that was the only reason you felt yourself so drawn to him. Yet standing here the way you are now, you cannot see even an ounce of similarity between him and Jisung. Even the endless care Seonghwa provides for you is far different than the kind Jisung gave you. You cannot reason why Seonghwa pulls your heartstrings in such a way, but it’s only now that you realize that it has nothing to do with Jisung in any way.
“A-As much as I – as much as I don’t w-want to let go of the past, I… I find myself wanting to move forward… to you. I want y-you.”
“Then I’m yours for as long as you want me, and I won’t go anywhere until then.”
“I swear on my life that I’ll never leave you.”
“Don’t promise not to leave.” Your words come out in a rush, but Seonghwa understands them nonetheless. Your eyes flutter shut as you speak your next words. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, just… tell me that you’re here. For now. For as long as it lasts.”
Before you know it, Seonghwa’s breath invades yours, and you feel the heat of his lips centimeters away from yours.
“I’m here now, Y/N.” You can hear the unspoken words on his lips, the promises that wish to spill out about how he won’t leave you and how he will stay, but he does exactly as you asked him to do and doesn’t let those empty promises reach the air between you.
“Show me,” you whisper without hesitation. That’s all the incentive Seonghwa needs to slot his lips against yours and suck the breath from your lungs as you exhale into his mouth. And when his hands slip down your back to hook around your thighs, you welcome it, letting him pull you forward until you are seated comfortably on his lap. You can’t even bring yourself to care that you are in the medbay of all places — a place far from the security that a bedroom would provide — but the enticement of Seonghwa’s lips pushes that thought out of your mind.
It’s almost poetic in a way: the way Seonghwa shifts to ease you back against the pillows of the bed and snakes his hands down to the band of your pants, tugging them lower and lower until you’re shed of them completely. It’s just as your first time together and yet the feeling behind it is so vastly different that you can hardly wrap your mind around it. And while he doesn’t take the time to drag his tongue over your folds this time, he does pepper the insides of your thighs with endless kisses and press two fingers to your entrance once he has rid himself of his own pants as well. Once he has pushed himself back up to be eye level with you again, you greet him with a kiss, tongue slipping between his lips in a rush to taste him. He hums into your mouth, and you can feel the corners of his mouth pulling upward as he smiles a bit.
“Hurry up,” you mutter, separating your lips with a wet pop.
“Always in such a rush, princess.” The nickname sends a surge of warmth through your chest, and you can’t keep from huffing out a laugh.
“You only say that because you’re so slow, pretty boy.” Seonghwa presses his lips back to yours as a counterattack, and he slips his fingers out from your core. Next thing you know, he is teasing your folds with the head of his cock, lips leaving yours for a moment as he hesitates there.
“Give me permission,” he murmurs. His eyes search yours for any sign of denial, and you hook a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down until his forehead collides with yours.
“It’s already yours.” With that, he buries himself all the way to the hilt in one quick thrust, and your lips part to release a silent cry of pleasure. Seonghwa braces his hands on either side of your head, palms sinking into the pillows and causing you to sink further back against the bed. He moves with you, and his weight pins you to the mattress. You give him a breathless command to continue his movements, which he follows like it’s the only thing that matters. And in the moment, it does feel like it’s the only thing that matters because all you can feel is Seonghwa. He rocks his hips against yours, member sliding over your velveteen walls with just the right amount of friction, and each thrust puts stars in your vision.
It’s a blinding pleasure that the two of you chase, a pleasure that is only heightened by the warmth of the emotion in your chest, and Seonghwa lets his eyes flutter shut as he fucks you. Whispered praises fall from his lips, and they’re spoken with such care and gentleness that you almost find yourself getting emotional again.
“So beautiful–” he shifts to kiss the apple of your cheek “–so, ah, perfect. You’re so so perfect, princess.” You moan loud into the shell of his ear, a sound that causes visible goosebumps to rush over his skin and a throaty groan to tear from his lips. The slight growl to his tone has you clenching hard around his cock, and a burst of arousal shoots through you. It nearly brings you to the precipice of pleasure but you force it down so that you can hold it off just a little while longer. Seonghwa sits up, and the warmth of his body leaves yours as he slips his hands down to your hips and kneels over you. He pulls your body up to meet his thrusts, and you can do nothing but cling to the bedsheets and release small whimpers of pleasure as he hits deeper with each drag of his member inside you.
“S-Seonghwa, oh fuck, I – I’m close, I’m close, I’m close,” you babble, back arching off the bed. Seonghwa dips back down to press a kiss to your sweat-slick temple.
“Cum for me, princess. You have permission.”
“Thank you, th-thank you, thank you.” You fall apart under his touch, eating up every breath of praise he showers you with as you reach your high, and your orgasm crashes hard over you. The clenching of your walls around him spurs him to cum himself, and he exhales a shaky groan as he does. The strength leaves his body at the same time. You can only huff out a gasp as his chest hits yours, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and hold him close to you in the aftermath of your orgasms.
It creeps up on you as you’re lying there basking in the glow of pleasure. Whereas before you thought you never wanted to experience the feeling again, this time you welcome it and let yourself be surrounded by the warmth it provides along with Seonghwa’s presence filling your every sense. You tangle your fingers in Seonghwa’s hair just to pull him back so that you can look him in the eye.
“D-Do you feel that?” He looks confused for a moment, unsure of both what you mean and what you are trying to say. Then you reach down to place a hand over Seonghwa’s heart that’s guarded by his shirt still, and he seems to understand what you’re after. A gentle smile overtakes his lips.
“I’ve felt it for a long time, Y/N.”
Nothing about the situation feels right in the slightest. The tension in your shoulders has reached impossible levels, and you can’t sit still for the life of you even with Wooyoung’s hand gripping your thigh like a vice. Yunho sits to your right although you can’t even bear to look in his direction at the moment, the heated embers from your argument yesterday still smoldering in your gut to a point where you can’t even hear him breathe without feeling enraged. But Wooyoung hasn’t let you go since the moment you sat down, and you can’t blame him because the scenery is far from pleasant.
You have never been to such a place — the arena looks like something straight out of myth with its climbing walls and seats that line the whole circle in rows. Carnage lies far below you, and you are grateful that Hongjoong didn’t ask you to move any lower than you have: a safe midpoint in the seats with a canopy above your heads to shroud the blinding daylight from your eyes. San and Jongho are somewhere across the way, lost in the mess of the crowd and bodies, and Mingi is safely secured in the bunker Seonghwa mentioned previously, according to Jongho. The older Berserker was also apparently more than happy to stay put there but only after Hongjoong agreed to let him have an earpiece of his own so that he could hear what was going on during the mission. While there was no shortage of doubts about that idea, Mingi had assured Hongjoong that he would be safely locked inside the bunker with Bloodletter crew guards just outside the door, and that was all it took for Hongjoong to relent a bit.
The final trio of Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong reside closer to the upper edge of the circle. Even at a distance, you can clearly see the wide, extended platform that stretches forward into the arena. It bears a tall gilded throne square in the middle of it, and you’re positive that the man with long white hair sitting atop it is none other than Vladimir the Bloody. He looks quite different than the time you saw him last with his face etched messily onto a bounty paper and dropped before you prior to a mission, but no one else would put himself on such a pedestal other than that man.
“You haven’t aged a day in years, Vlad. I see life has been treating you well then,” Hongjoong greets after a few breaths of silence over the comms channel. He receives a loud scoff in response, and that’s the only sound that echoes over the earpiece for quite some time, nearly drowned out by the ruckus bubbling around you.
“Save the niceties, Kim.” Vladimir’s fingers drum against the side of his armrest, long nails tapping along to no particular rhythm. “You wouldn’t come here for anything less than business.”
“I can’t pay an old friend a visit now and again?”
“Not with those two at your side… tell me – where is your prized Berserker?”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that.” Hongjoong’s voice comes across a bit more guarded this time, and it’s more than clear who Vlad is referring to despite Hongjoong’s question.
“Come now. We both know which one I’m referring to. Look around us, Hongjoong. This arena, these people, my fighters – they were all built on the blood and bones of the Brute of Kebos. Did you by chance bring him along with you? Or is it merely the three of you?” That last question causes your breath to hitch, and you stop yourself from reaching for Wooyoung’s hand at the last second.
“Of what interest is that to you, Vladimir?”
“Curiosity. Merely that and nothing more.”
“He doesn’t know we’re here,” Wooyoung whispers, leaning closer to you to keep the words as hushed as possible. You shake your head in agreement with his statement, but something about the way Vladimir’s head shifts tells you that he’s searching the arena for any sign of a familiar face amongst the crowd. As do the guards lingering near the edges of each row of seats. You can’t possibly feel safe yet – not when he has so many men watching and lurking around you.
“You’ve done surprisingly well for yourself, I must say.”
“Rearing a new generation of arenas?” Vladimir chuckles as he says the words, white hair billowing around his head. It looks almost transparent in the gleam of the sun, and the canopy above his head must have a hole in it because of the way the light trickles through.
“Striking a deal with the military is far more intriguing,” Hongjoong remarks without missing a beat.
“Look at these people, Hongjoong. They all claim to hate fighting, to run away at the sign of conflict, not be able to stomach the sight of blood, and yet they all find themselves here. Why do you think that is?”
“Because they crave it?”
“They crave control. They see me standing in a place of power, with a grip over life and death… and they crave it, Hongjoong. Just like you and me.”
“You think it’s control I seek?” The question is a farce and you know it, but something tells you that Vladimir is aware of it as well.
“Would you be searching for your mutinous crewmate otherwise?”
Mutinous crewmate.
“There was a mutiny,” Hongjoong states as if it’s the most normal thing in the universe. “They thought that I couldn’t lead and wasn’t suited for it. Mingi killing Cass only solidified those feelings. My highest in command after Seonghwa led the mutiny. Before he left the ship with half the crew, he swore that he would get the treasure first along with the Sirens.”
“I need information. I need to know who my information broker really was, why they lied, why I was given a dead lead, and where the hell Jin is right now. Be it luck or fate, Y/N has given us precious time to get the answers to these questions. If anyone is going to have those answers, it’s going to be Vladimir.”
“Ah, so you do know why I’m here.”
“As unhappy as it might make you, you are quite an easy man to read, Kim. And yet despite all your desires for control, you still fail to grasp it. I wonder — is it because you’re a failure? Or because of something else?”
You can’t see what Hongjoong is doing from your vantage point, but he doesn’t offer up a response. Yunho shifts beside you, a creak to the wood legs of his chair and gaze still glued to anything but the arena down below. Then —
“After all this time, you still look at your damn lieutenant the same way.” A breath of hesitation, and you choke on air at his next words. “Like he’s your treasure.”
“I came here for business, Vladimir,” Hongjoong hisses out, but it’s too late to keep anyone from hearing what Vladimir has said.
“I know you did. You want information. Information I cannot provide.” Hongjoong scoffs at that.
“What’s your cost? Name the price and it’s yours.”
A shrill laugh echoes through your headset. The hand clasped over your thigh tightens a little, and you find your own hand sneaking towards it with a sudden churning of anxiety in your gut.
“What I want isn’t money, Kim. What I want is your prized Berserker down in my arena.”
The pit in your stomach deepens to an impossible degree. Wooyoung stretches a hand towards yours, moving off your thigh to clasp your palm tightly.
“No. Not a chance.”
“Then I suppose your information isn’t so valuable after all.” Vladimir leans back in his throne, dipping out of the streams of light to be concealed by the shadows once more.
“Why do you want him so desperately?”
“Because, Hongjoong, I am just like each and every single one of these people. I crave it. To control that beast.”
“He isn’t yours to control.”
“And I suppose he is yours? Hongjoong, you’re a mystery to me. I’d think that after all those years in chains, you would see freedom differently.” Vladimir sighs a clear and defined sound that comes across in an almost condescending way.
“Freedom is a farce.”
“No, freedom is what you make of it. In my eyes, only one thing can truly be freedom, and that is death. We are never free from our chains, Hongjoong. They stay with us until we die. That’s the meaning of freedom and the meaning of death.”
Vladimir moves slowly, but his bright regalia gives away his shifting feet as he stands up and approaches the balcony, red cloak billowing behind him like a bloody shadow. A dark hand rises, glove masking the skin underneath, and he extends it out towards the crowd.
“Would that I could grant everyone that freedom.”
The cacophony of shouts heightens as he draws all fingers into a tight fist and straightens his thumb.
“You expect me to be cruel, Hongjoong, because you believe everyone to be cruel. You hope for them to be cruel so that you can have an excuse for being that way yourself. I’m afraid life doesn’t work that way though. I am not cruel. I am the body and the hand of the people. An instrument of their desires.” He tilts his hand, a blurry and hazy movement given the distance. “Their song in the silence.” The screams halt as though by cue. Bated breaths holding onto nothing except one man’s hand. “Their light in the darkness.” He jerks and points his thumb to the ground. The din resumes in an instant. “I am their voice, Hongjoong. Merely that and nothing more. Whether you consider that to be cruel or not… it is on your shoulders.”
“If it is blood you want, then put me down there.”
Yunho looks up for the first time, eyes staring directly at the seat where Hongjoong sits as still as ever. Wooyoung lurches as well, and his hand squeezes almost painfully around your thigh.
“Hongjoong, no–” Seonghwa’s voice is the one to cut across the feed, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him continue the thought.
“Take me in Mingi’s stead.” The words feel almost heavy on your ears.
“Ah. What an intriguing turn of events. What could you possibly offer me that that Berserker could not, Hongjoong? Do not pretend to be anything more than an ant among giants when it comes to my gladiators.”
“You said it yourself. It’s about control. Not about winning or losing. Control.”
“You would hand your life over that easily? I should’ve tried this years ago.”
“When I come out of there alive, then you will give me every last bit of information I desire,” Hongjoong demands, not wavering in the face of Vladimir’s mockery.
“That confidence hasn’t left you a day in your life, has it? Still… I’ll accept your offer.”
“No,” Yunho exhales, hands gripping the arms of his chair so tight that his knuckles go white. “He can’t be serious. He can’t be doing this. It’s – it’s suicide.”
“Come out alive, Kim Hongjoong, and I will give you all the answers you seek. Should you die, I will grant the rest of your crew safe passage back to your ship, as well as deliver your body to them untouched. Would it be that this is a fitting end for you, Scourge of the Black Sea.”
“We have to go. We have to stop him before he does this!” Yunho exclaims. He pulls himself to his feet, forgoing the people around you in favor of his urgency.
“Yunho… we can’t,” you utter. Defeat radiates through your tone. The odds of Hongjoong coming out of that hellhole are slim to none. Yet the odds of you guys stopping him from going in there are even lower.
“My men will escort you down to prepare for your fight. Do not expect me to be easy on you when I select your opponent.”
“That’s the thing, Vlad. I have your gladiator.”
“What is he saying? Has he gone fucking insane? Is that what this is?” You tug on Yunho’s sleeve gently in an attempt to urge the man to sit back down.
“I will fight for myself down in the arena, and my opponent shall be my own Berserker, Jongho.”
“You've truly lost your mind then, is that it? You would pit yourself – someone as weak and fragile as yourself – against a Berserker? Not only that, but one of the most dangerous Berserkers in the universe?”
“Yes, I would. Because that's the only way you would agree to these terms, isn't it?”
“How very insightful of you, Hongjoong,” Vladimir hums. “You are absolutely correct.”
“My men and I will be heading down now. You can save your escorts for our return.”
“Hm, I would advise you to be wary, Kim. An ego like that makes for an even harsher fall. You would be wise not to gloat too much before your fight. Nonetheless, I look forward to seeing you test your mettle in my arena. An ode to older times, no?”
Hongjoong leaves the man without another response, and Vladimir must not be pressing for one because he lets Hongjoong turn on his heel and leave without a fight. The silence that ensues is so thick and palpable that you nearly choke on it, and it lasts for far too long before Seonghwa’s voice is ringing harshly in your ears.
“You have legitimately lost your mind this time, Hongjoong,” he hisses out, and though the words are spoken in spite, you can clearly hear the wavering tone of worry in them.
“I have a plan.”
“To die?”
“Teams, reconvene at the base tunnel of the arena. Just follow the smell of blood and you’ll be able to find it without any trouble.” That order brings you to your feet in a heartbeat, and Wooyoung’s hand falls away from your leg as you rush to stand up. He stares a bit blankly up at you, body refusing to move from its place on the bench, and you grab for his hand to yank him upward.
“We have to go, Wooyoung,” you urge. Wooyoung nods but still he doesn’t budge, eyes glazed and hazy as he struggles to come back to reality. “Wooyoung, please.”
“I… Y/N, I-I…”
Whatever thoughts are running through his head die on his lips because he can’t manage to finish the sentence. You tug him to his feet with a bit more force, and he finally relents enough to get up and follow you. Yunho has already gotten to his feet and started making his way to the end of the row, and you trail after him with hurried steps. Your heart is thrumming hard against the confines of your chest, beating like a drum in your ears. All you can see is the broad expanse of Yunho’s back as you walk behind him, and you frankly have no idea if he knows where he’s headed but you still follow him blindly. Wooyoung shifts his hand to fit into yours. His fingers slip between yours, and you cling to the warmth just as hard as he does. It’s only when you start descending the stairs to reach the place where you entered earlier that Wooyoung decides to speak again, although part of you wishes he hadn’t said anything simply because of how heartbreaking his words are.
“I c-can’t watch him die, Y/N.” You twist to look him in the eye, regretting it in an instant, but you push through the pain of seeing his trembling lip and watering eyes.
“You won’t have to.”
It could be a lie for all you know but it’s enough for the time being, and Wooyoung falls silent to let you continue to pull him along. San and Jongho are waiting for you at the mouth of the tunnel, eyes wide and unblinking as the three of you step down the last of the stairs to meet up with them. There is no sign of Hongjoong and the others yet, but you know that it’s only a temporary relief for whatever hell is about to come.
Yunho steps in front of Jongho, hands coming to rest on the young Berserker’s shoulders. “Jongho—”
“Don’t,” Jongho interjects. “Don’t even try to say anything.”
“No, it isn’t fair of him to put you in this position. He shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t what?”
Again Yunho does not get to finish the thought, but this time it isn’t Jongho who interrupts him. You turn to face the source of the voice, knowing full well who it is, but seeing the captain standing at the edge of the stairs with his hand loosely gripping the wall does nothing to ease your worries. Yunho’s gaze softens minimally upon seeing Hongjoong. He doesn’t let it last long before the fire returns to his stare. Hongjoong doesn’t waver in the slightest.
“Shouldn’t force Jongho to fight you like this!”
“You think we haven’t had this conversation before?” Hongjoong asks, arching a brow in Yunho’s direction. He steps closer to the five of you. Seonghwa and Yeosang trail in behind him, and the moment the latter comes into sight, Wooyoung drops your hand to rush to his side. He hits Yeosang hard, nearly toppling him over with the force of his body, but the blond manages to catch his weight with little struggle and latches onto his waist with one arm. Hongjoong motions towards Jongho – a single dismissive wave that lasts less than a second. “We discussed this yesterday after you all left the bridge.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me — the rest of us?”
“As far as I’m concerned, this only truly affects Jongho. The rest of you will remain here and not be able to see what’s going on inside the arena until we both come out — alive. This is a show, Yunho. I’m not asking you to understand or agree with my reasoning, but I am asking you to comply.” Hongjoong steps around Yunho and continues down the tunnel, moving on towards the center of the arena, and he beckons for Jongho to follow him with a single finger.
Yunho darts a hand out to block Jongho’s path before he can follow after the captain.
“Vladimir won’t give you anything if both of you come out alive!”
Hongjoong comes to a halt where he is, and he heaves a deep sigh before turning around to face Yunho once more With several hesitant steps, Hongjoong returns to stand in front of the healer, eyes blazing as he reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a small lidded vial that has a murky white liquid in it. Yunho blinks down at it for a few seconds before he seems to recognize what it is.
“The hyacinth root? When did you…?”
“After you mentioned bringing some back from the market.” You hardly remember that day in the marketplace since it seems to have happened so long ago, but Hongjoong’s words jot your memories of what Yunho had told you that day.
“You can crush them up with peppermint leaves to create a paste that, when consumed, will slow your heart rate but keep you alive. It makes you seem dead when in actuality, you aren’t. It typically lasts between seven and ten minutes. Good for getaways or dupes.”
“Hongjoong, I don’t have the supplies for this. I won’t—”
“Yes, you will. The second we come out of there, Vlad’s guards will hand over Jongho’s body to you. Seonghwa will accompany me back up to see Vlad, but Yeosang must stay down here with Jongho’s body, or else they’ll be more suspicious than they already are. It’s just like what you did on Yuki—”
“I had supplies then! I was prepared for that! Not to mention I almost failed last time, and you nearly died, and that was when I had all the necessary supplies.” Yunho exclaims. “I can’t get the paste out of him without a decoction of violet stems and at least three other seeds and ground spices. I don’t know how you expect me to get it out of him in time without those things, and I especially don’t understand why you failed to mention this last night!”
“You say that like I didn’t try to mention it. You’ll have plenty of time to figure something out while we’re in the arena, but now we have to go before Vlad’s men come get us.” Hongjoong slips the vial back into his pocket, and this time when he turns, Yunho doesn’t try to stop him – either because he’s conceding or he truly doesn’t know what he can say to stop Hongjoong. Jongho steps around Yunho’s outstretched arm and follows after the captain without a word. He doesn’t wait for them to be out of earshot before whipping around to glare Seonghwa down with fire in his eyes.
“And here I thought your duty as lieutenant was to prevent him from doing stupid things.”
“Now is not the time for this,” Yeosang says, pulling a bit away from Wooyoung to step between the two.
“Preach all you want about how much you care about him and how you would sacrifice anything for him, but the reality is that you don’t give a shit about his well-being!” Yunho continues to berate Seonghwa and pays no attention to Yeosang’s interruption. He jabs a finger at the lieutenant’s face, but Seonghwa reaches up to sway the offending hand away in an instant.
“Sacrifice and trust go hand in hand,” Seonghwa says, managing to maintain a surprisingly steady tone in the face of Yunho’s rage. “I would not let him set a single foot in that arena if I did not trust his promise to come out alive. And would he let me, I would be the one going in there.”
“Vladimir expects them to tear each other apart!”
“These risks are no greater than the ones we have experienced in the past. They will both come out of there.” Hongjoong must have said something to Seonghwa on the way down for him to suddenly be so sure of this. Either that or Seonghwa is forcing the words out in a desperate attempt to believe it himself.
“And do you not care that this could kill Jongho? If I can’t figure something out before they drag his body back in here, he will die because of this!”
“Then you ought to stop arguing with me and start thinking of a solution to this issue.  Or perhaps you should have listened to Hongjoong last night when he tried to tell you what the plan was.”
“When he dies, the blame will be on your shoulders for not doing more to stop Hongjoong,” Yunho hisses.
“How so? You’re so quick to push the blame off yourself already, yet the responsibility to save him falls on your shoulders, Yunho. I’m not going to stand here and fight with you over this. You have the ability to save Jongho even without those supplies. The only person doubting you right now is yourself.”
“I don’t doubt my own abilities. Jongho will not fight back in there. Don’t you realize that? In order for this to be believable, Hongjoong will have to beat him down to near death. Jongho’s body will reject whatever treatments I try to give him without the decoction as a method of protection, but that will only end up killing him because I won’t be able to get the hyacinth paste out of him in time.”
“Captain won’t hurt him.”
You don’t need to turn to see who has just stepped in, but you do nonetheless at least for the smallest semblance of confirmation. It doesn’t make it any easier to see who stands at the edge of the tunnel, bright light cascading around his tall form and casting crude shadows across the floor as he walks closer to the group. You swallow around nothing in anticipation although nothing could prepare you for what Mingi says next.
“Because I’m the one going in there, not Jongho.”
✧✧✧ a/n: yall idek what even happened to be honest my brain is NUMB also i wrote the smut scene last so if it’s a lil bit weak im sorry T-T also lemme know what you think a whole lot happened again :o
taglist: @faeriewoobin​ @sugarrimajins​ @atinyinwonderland​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​ @sparklychangbin​ @jeong-uwu​ @jeonartemis​ @anothershorthuman​ @xxbluestrifexx​​ @haotheheckk​ @noonawriter​ @lostscenarios​ @nlost21​ @mirror-juliet​ @okokokok123-45 @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @takitaro @vampire-jimin @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @felixity
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elysianslove · 3 years
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Hi! ☺️ could I request some demon slayer angst?? Maybe like Kyojuro x reader where his s/o is fighting along side him and something happens to them. Thank you ❤️
hi anon! idk if you read the manga or not, so i avoided spoilers. this doesn’t follow a specific timeline, it’s just random. also i love this man so much y’all i simp properly fml. anyways i hope this meets your expectations and you enjoy!!!
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he admires you, so much, in every possible way. being with you, fighting alongside you, it means more to him than you could ever imagine. he admires the way in which you’re ruthless but forgiving, gentle yet rough on the edges. you balance everything out so perfectly, like you were made to be in the exact position you are right now, custom, handcrafted sword in your hand, demon blood splattered on your skin, hair disarray, and an unrelenting demon before the two of you.
he thinks it’s an upper moon, but he can’t decide, not when everything is moving so fast. kyojuro trusts you. he trusts you in the sense that he can rely on you to keep both yourself and him safe. he trusts in you, and in your ability and skill. never once has he doubted you, not even when the odds are awfully unbalanced to the opposing side, not even when either of you two are barely managing to stand on two feet, your muscles screaming for ease and comfort.
it’s not often he finds himself in your company for a mission too. he thinks that maybe it’s for the better. you’re one another’s liabilities, you’re leverage for him, he’s leverage for you, and he hates the thought of anyone or anything using you against him for any reason, because there is no higher priority than you. nothing that stands above you. when you both receive the message, crows belting out introductions just as the light begins to dim from the world around you, you glance uneasily at each other. it’s no easy feat becoming a hashira, so you’re both confident in your abilities. meaning having requested two hashira, the situation must’ve been worse than imagined or expected.
and it is. the demon relents, refusing to die despite both you and kyojuro repeatedly slashing his head off. as you try to think of various, different ways of defeating this demon, you hurt it in different ways, cutting off its limbs, stabbing it over and over again, slowing down its regeneration process as much as you can. before long, you find yourself on the floor, muscles aching beyond comprehension, mine numbing and spirit waning. kyojuro continues to fight, waiting for you to pick yourself back up again. and you can’t let him down, never.
so you stand, picking up your sword, suddenly a million times heavier than when the fight first began, and advance towards where your lover continues to battle with the creature. it’s unbelievably ugly, and incredibly vicious, never once holding back on either of you. your breath is heavy in your lungs, weighing you down, but you steady yourself. you’re a hashira. you’ve killed a million demons, and you’ll kill a million more, until you rid the earth of its uncleanliness and blasphemy. you’ll kill all the demons you can just to return home with your lover, to your lover, and lay in his arms. never having to worry for a moment more if it would be the last time you’d feel his embrace.
“kyo!” you call out, just barely ducking at the swing of the demon’s arm, raising your sword in reflex and slashing away at the limb. “the source— the sour—“
it happens suddenly. too quickly. or maybe, because of the strain of the fight, you’re just reacting slowly.
your words bubble at the back of your throat, collecting but never spilling. your limbs freeze up, your heart’s rate speeding up at an alarming rate to match with the panic suddenly overtaking you. your head is spinning, too much, too fast, and you have half a mind to look down, and notice the fist protruding from your lower abdomen. it’s the shock that keeps you on your feet for this long, even as the demon snarls cruelly and pulls away his arm from you, shoving you forward with unexpected strength, even as blood begins to pool in your mouth, painting your lips red. the pain gradually spreads, your adrenaline slowly dying out, your body lighting ablaze with flames on every inch of skin. the pain is so strong, so overwhelming and dizzying and nauseating, that it almost — doesn’t exist.
you’re not sure when it is your knees finally meet the ground beneath you, dirtying your uniform with a mixture of your blood, the demon’s, and dirt from the earth. as if underwater, you hear the dying sounds of a demon nearby, wallowing out in misery and in pain, crying out for its superior, begging for another chance to prove itself.
another chance.
will you have that?
your fall is cushioned by a pair of strong arms, familiar warmth and a familiar scent. he’s cloudy and fuzzy, his image and aroma and sense of being. you can’t see him, you can’t hear him and you can barely feel him. you think to yourself if this had happened a little earlier, you might’ve expected it, anticipated it, avoided it. you might’ve been able to slow down the bleeding using the breaths you’ve mastered after years of training. but you’re so far gone, and your entire body is already under so much strain, you doubt you would’ve survived a single, additional cut.
kyojuro admires you so much. he thinks you’re so beautiful, in every possible way. as you’re asleep, in the safety and protection of your home, in his arms. as you cook, for him and for you, and as you share that food. as you train, the sword fitting so perfectly in your hand, like it was meant for you. it is meant for you. he thinks you’re so beautiful as your eyes shine alight while you speak of your passion, or a new discovery as you share it with him. as you kiss him, so wholeheartedly, so fully, giving your all to him, always. always, always his. forever his and forever yours.
he thinks it’s so ironic he’d find you beautiful, even now, even as your spirit slips away from his very grasp.
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when you come to, you genuinely believe you’re dead. the first face you see is kyojuro’s, and when you notice the never ending injuries adorning his face and hands, you realize this isn’t heaven. in heaven, your lover wouldn’t be hurt. never.
it hurts to move. or, honestly, to even think. you don’t attempt to speak. and you slow your breathing to limit your pain. you don’t do anything. you just revel in the simple fact that you’re alive, and while it doesn’t really feel like it, you really are still living and breathing. you’d been given a second chance. another chance.
“you’re so beautiful,” he says, when his eyes meet yours, and you consider how much truth is in that statement. you’ve never seen him look so relieved, so full of light and happiness. which says a lot in its own, because kyojuro has always been sunshine in human form. so, you decide, you believe him.
your lips open in a weak and feeble attempt to speak, but his fingers, wrapped in gauze, ghost over them, shushing you gently. “save your energy, darling,” he tells you, and settles in by your side. he glances down at you, his hand wordlessly finding yours and grasping it tightly, probably more than you could handle. but you feel the slight tremor to them, noticing, just barely, how his breathing stutters when he continues to stare at you — like if he were to blink, you’d disappear in milliseconds.
his free hand finds its way to your face, caressing your skin softly, fingers trudging up to your hair, where he moves it out of your face. “so beautiful,” he repeats, but it’s to himself. slowly, he bends forwards, leaning towards you, and kisses your forehead gently. his lips litter soft, featherlight kisses on your temple, your eyelids, the tip of your nose, your cheeks, and your chin. “no more demons?” it’s a question, even if unintended.
with a quiver to your lower lip, you imagine the life you’d lead, no constant ache in your bones, no more scars to add to your growing collection, not another burden, not another life lost before your eyes, not one more death-inducing worry over your lover. just you. and him. and the way he looks at you. forever.
when you nod, tears spring to your eyes, and you finally find your voice for a moment. “i love you,” you promise, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to worry it might’ve been the last time you’d uttered those words.
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end note; i’m so used to killing off characters but i didn’t want you guys to hate me just yet hehe. anyways i hope the requester and everyone else enjoyed this!! as always, requests are open, and i luv u all!!
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iliumheightnights · 4 years
Text
Let Me Make You Proud | Tony Stark x Son!Reader
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Tony Stark x Son!reader
Summary: (M/N) has always wanted to make his dad proud. He not only gave up any of his aspirations and hobbies so that he could fulfill that wish, but also a part of himself. What happens when his dad starts paying attention to someone else he considers a son?
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time so I’m excited. Warning there is just a little bit of Peter hate, not his fault, we still love him in this household. Also Tony is kind of a neglectful parent so just warning you. We have to have SOME angst.
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(M/N) had just finished and turned in his essay which wasn’t due until next week. It was pretty simple to finish and now he can turn his attention to other things which were more important like these suit upgrades. Before he could get started he couldn’t help but have his eyes wander over to the small metal sphere sitting on his desk. This was the first BIG thing he ever made, it was just a small companion droid with an AI added into it, it was meant to be a friend for when you got lonely. He was so proud of it, he built it all without his dad’s or anyone else's help. He thought back to that day.
...
He had just finished screwing in the last bolt. “Done.” All that was left was to press the button and hopefully it wouldn’t blow up. It probably would. He stared at the bot for a while before pressing the button. The machine hummed and lit up. The machine was a large ball that when activated unfolded into a small robot with a face and arms.
“Hello. I’m PRYSM. Are you my friend?”
(M/N) could feel his smile growing. “Hello PRYSM. I’m (M/N). (M/N) Stark, and yes I’d love to be your friend. Come meet my dad!” He grabbed the little robot in his hands and dashed out of the room. He ran down to where he knew his dad was, the lab. Always the lab.
“Dad! Dad! Look what I made!”
Tony was hunched over his work bench typing away at something (M/N) couldn’t see. He didn’t even look up to see his son. “I’m a little busy right now bud, can it wait?”
(M/N) could feel his smile dropping. “Yeah...sure dad. What are you working on?”
Again without looking up from his work. “Important suit things. Can you please go upstairs? I need to concentrate.”
(M/N) was no longer excited to say the least. “Sure dad.”
The walk back to his room felt so much longer than it did, and PRYSM felt much heavier in his hands. Returning to his room he sat on his bed and sat PRYSM down beside him. “You’re sad. Why are you sad?”
“It’s nothing PRYSM. I just wish my dad would have looked at you.”
“He said he would later, what’s the problem (M/N)?”
“He lied PRYSM. He always lies.” He could feel the tears starting to build up in his eyes. Suddenly he felt arms wrap around him. He looked to see PRYSM hugging him. 
“I’m sorry he lied. I’m sorry you’re sad. But I’m here! I’m your friend and if you want to talk I’ll listen.”
(M/N) couldn’t but help but let out a small huffed laugh and hug them back. “Thanks PRYSM.”
“Anytime.”
Snapping out of his thoughts he turned back to the plans. He couldn’t get his head into it no matter how hard he tried. He eventually gave up and walked out of his room. The tower had grown significantly ever since all the avengers moved in here but it did feel nice to have more people. However, even with more people he couldn’t help but feel more alone.
The avengers have all become like family to him and they all love him, he just wished his dad did too. He knows his dad loves him, but after a while you quit believing in fairytales. That won’t stop him though, he just wants to make his dad proud. That got a lot more difficult after the battle of new york.
New York was on fire. It had been a normal day, people going about their daily life when suddenly there were aliens descending from a giant hole in the sky. (M/N) was on his way back to the tower when it happened. He just started running as more and more things were destroyed around him. Some of the aliens had flown right above him as he kept running, all he had to do was get to the tower.
Just get to the tower. It was a simple plan but things could never just be simple could they. Just as the doors of the tower came into view one of those aliens jumped in front of him. It screamed at him and he took a sharp turn down one of the many allies of New York. He realized his mistake as he found himself at a dead end, he could hear the alien coming closer. “Fuck. What do I do now?” The alien finally reached him and raised it’s rifle at him. He brought his arms to cower expecting the sweet release of death, that didn’t come however. Opening his eyes he noticed he was surrounded by some sort of force field. The alien kept firing it’s weapon at the shield. “Stop!” He shouted and reached his hand out for the alien to stop but as he did that the force field shot out throwing the alien against the wall knocking it out. “What just happened?”
Of course he didn’t tell his dad. His dad hated magic, he was already thinking his dad hated him what would have happened if he told his dad he had magic? Everything he had been working on would have been thrown out the drain. He was still lost in his head when he entered the common room he hadn’t even realized someone was talking to him.
“Earth to (M/N). Hello.”
“What?” (M/N) focused his eyes and saw it was Clint talking to him.
He loved all the avengers but Clint was always his favorite. He was pretty much more of a father to him then his own dad was. He always made sure (M/N) was okay and being taken care of. The two had become so close Clint was the only one to know about (M/N)’s powers. He knew Clint had a bad time with magic thanks to Loki but he didn’t have anyone to talk to about it and just kind of spilled it on the poor man. Clint, being the amazing person he was, was incredibly understanding and supportive of (M/N) even offering to help him figure out how to control it. He really was (M/N)’s true dad.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You okay kid?” Clint’s face held that fatherly concern.
“Yeah I’m fine. I was just thinking. Maybe I should get my head out of the clouds.”
“No way! When you have your head in the clouds you always come up with the best ideas.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“No seriously. Just look at PRYSM they’re amazing and you did that on your own.”
“Thanks Clint you always know what to say.” 
“Anytime Kiddo. Seriously, always here for you.”
(M/N) continued on to the kitchen passing by some of the others like Steve and Natasha. Giving them a smile and a hello. The avengers loved him, but they also knew he was hurting. They tried talking to Tony about it but he only brushed them off saying (M/N) knew he loved him. They didn’t like that excuse so they took it on themselves to show their love to him. Entering the kitchen he was met with the grinning face of none other than the scarlet witch herself. “Afternoon (M/N).”
“Afternoon Wanda. Where’s Cosmo?”
“Very funny.” The two grinned at each other. It didn’t last long as her face dropped into a frown. “That spider kid is coming over soon.”
(M/N) looked down at the ground and crossed his arms. “Why? He upgrading his suit? Repairs?”
“I don’t know. All I know is your dad wants all of us to have, in quotes, a nice family dinner.”
“Sounds like the red wedding all over again.”
“Ha. I agree. I just thought I’d warn you.”
“Thanks wanda I guess I should prepare myself.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”
“You say that now.”
He walked out of the kitchen and decided to go see what his dad was doing. To at least try and talk with him before Peter got here. Recently he has been spending more and more time with him and everytime he sees them together they look...happy. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of Peter. He pretty much got Tony to be his dad, while (M/N) was left behind.
As he approached the lab he heard laughing. Normally he would think it would be Bruce joking around with his dad, but this laughter wasn’t the same as Bruce’s. This laughter was a lot lighter. Peter. 
He stopped at the door and listened in. Peter was in the middle of telling his dad some story about one of his patrols. “And then I tied up all the bad guys and saved the people. But I had to get out of there fast because the cops were rolling up.” Tony laughed at that. “You did good kid. I’m proud of you.”
It felt like the entire world stood still. Those were the words (M/N) always wanted to hear from his father, but never did. What he didn’t expect even more was the next exchange that came about.
“Thanks dad.”
“Anytime,son.”
It felt like a void had suddenly grown in (M/N)’s stomach. If they had been joking it would have been one thing. But there was no light heartedness behind those words, only love. Everything that (M/N) had been giving and trying to receive back for years was just exchanged like that with some kid who wasn’t his son. But apparently more of a son than him. He didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, he didn’t want to. He just let his feet lead him back to his room.
He stayed there locked in his room for hours. He thought of everything he had done in his life for his father. He gave up almost all of his hobbies: writing,painting,singing, all of it. He gave it up so that he could follow in his father's steps and giant shadow. He wanted to be able to show his dad that he could take over Stark Industries and hopefully make him proud. This isn’t the life he wanted, He wanted to be able to go out and see friends. To travel the world. To just be a kid. He just wanted to be loved by his father. It was like he was falling off a large building and there was no safety net to catch him.
He was woken up by a knocking at his door. He hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep. The door opened and Clint popped his head in. “Dinner’s ready kiddo.”
(M/N) groaned. “Coming.” He got off his bed and followed Clint to the table. The table was enormous, it was of course supposed to fit all the avengers. Most everyone was already sitting. (M/N) couldn’t help but notice how Peter sat right next to Tony. In the seat (M/N) normally sat at. Fan-fucking-tastic. The only seats left really were at the end so (M/N) sat at the very end facing his father on the other end while Clint sat next to him. Luckily wanda was on the other side of him. At Least he has these two. Everyone started getting into their food. There were a couple conversations going on all over the table. Steve cracking jokes with Nat and Bucky. Bruce talking to Peter about some equation. The noise just kind of drowned everything out, until Tony’s broke through it all. 
“So (M/N). How was your day?” It got very quiet at the table. It’s not like the two haven't talked but it never has been like how family talked to each other, more like acquaintances.
“It was fine.”
“That's it? Just fine? You were in your room all day. You should come out more.”
“I do come out. I just had a lot of work to get done today.”
“What kind of work?’
“Just a school Essay. I wanted to get it done so I could focus on other things.” He was focusing anywhere but his father.
“That’s good. Making sure to get the important things done. Very smart.”
It got quiet after that. You could pretty much hear a pin drop. Until Tony spoke up again. “So I wanted to get all of us together to have dinner because I have an announcement. As you know I’ve been trying to juggle both iron man duties and Stark Industries with Pepper but it has got to be just too much. So I have taken this time to step back from Stark Industries and I have decided on someone who I think can take good care of the company in my place...Peter.”
It was in the moment that (M/N)’s entire world shattered before him. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed had been for nothing. He tried so hard to make his father proud and this is what he gets. His father’s legacy given to a kid that swings around in a onesie.
“Pete and I have already talked about it. Pepper can handle everything on her own right now with some assistants but down the line Peter will take over-”
Tony was cut off by the sound of breaking glass. Everyone turned to look at (M/N) who was looking down, his fist was closed and the parts of his broken glass littered the end of the table.
“I’m done.” It was barely a whisper.
“(M/N)-” Wanda started to say.
“I AM DONE!” (M/N) shouted. “I HAVE GIVEN UP EVERYTHING FOR YOU! I HAVE TRIED FOR SO LONG TO MAKE YOU PROUD! ALL I HAVE EVER WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO LOVE ME AND YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THAT! NO YOU HAVE TO GO OFF AND REPLACE ME BECAUSE I AM SUCH A DISAPPOINTMENT TO YOU! I’M FUCKING DONE!” (M/N) pushed himself out of his seat and started walking back to his room. Before he left the kitchen however, he couldn’t help but notice the lego death star that was built up, Peter had brought that over to show Tony. Fuck it, Fuck them. (M/N) let his powers loose and lifted the set before throwing it across the room letting it hit the wall, smashing into pieces.
“My lego set!” 
(M/N) heard enough and walked off.
“(M/N)!” Clint called after him followed by Wanda. Tony just sat at the end of the table speechless. He didn’t realize he was hurting his son so much.
“You’ll be okay you know.”
(M/N) looked down at his friend and smiled. He kneeled down to talk to them better. “I hope so. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
“You’re are. You’re strong enough and more. I know it.”
“Thanks PRYSM. You always know how to make me feel better.” After the whole dinner fiasco (M/N) decided to bring PRYSM back online. It had been years since their last talk. “WOW you’ve got sooooo big!” He loved that PRYSM still cared for him, even after everything. He made sure to tell them everything that happened at dinner and how he felt about it.
There was a knock on the door yet (M/N) didn’t move to open it. Whoever tried to open the door, however (M/N) locked it so no one could enter. The mystery person was finally revealed when they spoke through the door. “(M/N).” It was his dad.
“I’m sorry. I am so...so sorry. I hadn’t realized I was hurting you so bad. I never wanted to hurt you. I know it doesn’t mean anything to you now. I understand if you hate me now...I’d hate me too. I told myself when you were born that I wouldn’t be anything like my father...I didn’t realize that I would become worse than him. I wasn’t trying to replace you, I would never replace you. I love you. You aren’t a disappointment to me. I want you to know that...and I am so proud of you. I thought that you wanted to go out and see the world. I didn’t want to force you to take Stark Industries...I should have asked you. I should have talked with you. I should have been there for you so many times, Everyone tried to tell me. I wouldn’t listen though, I thought...I don’t even know anymore.” His voice was barely holding together now and truth be told (M/N) was barely keeping it together in his room. “I’m sorry. Please...let me try harder. I’ll try harder. I can’t lose you.”
(M/N) made no moves to open the door. He wasn’t about to forgive him so easily, maybe he wouldn’t forgive him at all. When he heard his dad’s footsteps fade away he spoke quietly. Barely above a whisper. “You’ve already lost me.” PRYSM rolled up to him and engulfed him in another hug. “I know people usually say you’ll have to forgive a person eventually. But that’s not true, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to know that whatever you decide I support you and I will be here for you.” The tears that were barely being held back were let loose at that, and (M/N) quickly hugged PRYSM back. 
The two stayed like that for a long time. Eventually the door was knocked on again. “(M/N).” Clint. “Can I come in?” He didn’t move for a bit but then got up and unlocked the door. He moved back to his bed and PRYSM as Clint entered. “Hey PRYSM.” 
“HEY CLINT IT IS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN. But under such sad circumstances.”
“Hey can you give us a second?”
“Oooohhh, of course. I’ll just be over here.” PRYSM rolled off after that.
Clint sat beside (M/N) on the bed. Not saying anything for a bit. “That was some show you put on there kiddo.”
“I’m sorry for doing a Luke skywalker on the death star. But I won’t apologize for what I said.”
“I’m not here for that. What you said needed to be said. It’s been needing to be said for a long time and I’m proud of you for doing it.” 
“I did just out myself as a magic user to everyone.”
Clint laughed at that. “Yeah. You should have seen every one they were so confused. Especially Wanda and your dad. Wanda was surprised you didn’t tell her.”
“I should have.”
“That was up to you.” Clint turned to look at him. “Listen. I have always considered you a son to me. Which is why telling you this isn’t easy. You are at a crossroads right now. You have spent your whole life trying to fill your father’s shoes but now you don’t have to. I think this is where YOUR story begins.” 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean. I think you should go. Go explore the world. Try new things, meet new people. Discover who YOU are. You have spent your entire life trying to be Tony Stark; it's time for you to be (M/N) Stark. It won’t be easy. You’ll face a lot of challenges out there and you might fail a bunch of times, But I know you are strong enough to get back up. Go make friends, fall in love. And when it’s time,come back.” his face falters a bit. “Or...don’t. I want you to live YOUR life. If what you want is to never come back and just move on, then do it. I will always love you kiddo and I just want you to be happy.”
(M/N) pulled the man into a big hug as tears began to stream down his face. He might not be his biological dad, but that didn’t matter; he always loved him like he was. “Oh here’s something’s you might need. Just some extra money, a phone without a tracer and some basic necessities. See ya Kiddo.” With that Clint got up and left. PRYSM re entered the room.
“Clint told me I could come back in so blame him.”
(M/N) laughed at his friend. “It’s alright. Hey...Wanna go on an adventure with me?”
“Um Always!”
“Then let’s go.” (M/N) grabbed the bag of supplies and put some clothes in it. He opened the door letting PRYSM leave first before closing the door to his room for the last time in a very long time.
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A/N: PHEW that was a big one. The biggest one I’ve ever written I hope you all like it. And yes eventually there will be a part 2 because there is still so much for it that I want to write like some reconnecting and such but (M/N) has to go on some self discovery first. Also LOVE PRYSM and imagined them to look like GORTYS from tales from the borderlands so enjoy. I really hope you liked it and keep an eye out for the next one.
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Text
Fallen Starr
Desc: An Angel is quite the force, so surely, it must be able to handle the horrors of Starr Park. Personally. Whatever harms an Angel but be infinitely worse for mortals, so Mortis believes it’s worth the sacrifice.
Warnings: Unreality, self-doubt, memory altering and memory loss. Unhappy ending. Angst.
Author’s Note: I swear I will write a happy fic soon I swear I pr-
He should have known that it was a trap. He really should’ve expected something like this when he saw the way that he had been lured in.
It always hurt to be looking down to see atrocities and pain rampant here, and he showed himself in hopes that they would stop. Maybe out of respect, maybe out of fear, but everything seemed to get worse for those he was trying to protect.
He remembered how just a day ago he snapped, declaring that he would be dealing with them personally for their crimes. He thought that it would end there, that he could finally do what needed to be done for these criminals.
Now , it seemed that his plans were going terribly wrong.
The first thing that happened to him was the blinding white light that engulfed him, then nothing.
There was a faint ringing in his ears as he came back to consciousness, eyes still shut from the harsh brightness. His head spun and his chest tightened, and he felt his wings twitch.
He took a deep breath before opening his eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness, before sitting up and taking another look around. A few things immediately registered to him. He was in the park - one of the newer areas, he believed - where he descended. The air was crisp and cold, and the sun shone overhead through gaps in tree limbs.
He blinked away the last of the spots in his vision and looked around. In the distance, he noticed people.
They were watching him.
A scowl formed on his face, and he held his cane closer, pushing himself up. So, they caught him off guard, so be it. He wouldn’t be letting them get away with this, along with everything else, he vowed.
With a sharp crack in the air as he snapped open his wings, he set off towards the sky again. With each flap upwards, his body trembled with anger, tension and adrenaline. He kept his hands balled into tight fists while he gripped his cane tighter, ready to strike if someone got within reach.
He kept his eyes open, scanning for any signs of danger, any sign that someone was after him. He didn’t know what they could hope to gain by capturing him or whatever they were doing - he wasn’t part of some group, after all - but there was no doubt that they wanted something in return.
His heart sped up as he flew higher, anxiety rising. Something was off, he knew something was off but he couldn’t tell what. It was quiet, and he had a nearly overwhelming sense of deja vu. Like he had done this before. He paused, putting a hand to his head.
…they couldn’t have erased his memory, right?
He glanced back at where he woke up, trying to remember what happened before that. There was no mistaking it, his mind felt foggy, though he had tried so hard to clear it. But no matter how much he went over and over every detail, he just couldn’t seem to connect dots.
As much as he wished that he could figure it out, something told him that he couldn’t. Which was… greatly worrying to him. He felt something twist in his heart, and he put his hand over it, trying to calm himself.
“Calm yourself. Think. It will come back.” He tried to ignore the slight trembling in his own voice. “Deep breaths, Mortis, deep breaths.”
He kept his eyes closed as he continued to fly, focusing all of his attention into calming himself down. He took slow, deliberate breaths and focused on slowing his heartbeat, the beating of his chest.
This was not good, no no no, this was NOT good.
He could feel it. He could barely recall why he was here - it was to stop them, right? How did he plan to stop them? He shook his head, trying to snap out of these thoughts.
‘Focus. Focus.’ He repeated the words to himself until he felt calmer. He slowly opened his eyes, staring ahead, feeling uneasy as he watched the world pass him by. ‘Focus, Mortis. You’re an Angel. Your job is to protect and serve. You’ve never failed to protect anyone in your life, you’ll protect others now.’
Protect. He was here to protect… people. People who were captured. People who needed help. People he had to help. Those he was sworn to protect. He clenched his jaw and glared ahead, determined.
‘Focus! You have work to do, Mortis. This isn’t the time to be thinking about yourself. Don’t think about your feelings, don’t think about how bad it feels. Think about helping those you care about.’
His gaze turned forward and he stopped, hovering over the ground as he tried to take in his surroundings. The entirely of Starr Park, a theme park full a color, districts, and themes. Thirteen different areas, not including the area he just flew out of-
…the area he just flew out of? He blinked in confusion, looking back.
A sanctuary with green grass, trees, a cottage, golden roads. It seemed almost out of place, peaceful, like it was something he’d see at home instead of-
“Oh no.” He murmured, gripping onto his cane tighter. “No. No, no, no. Not happening.”
He shook his head and brought up his free hand to rub at his eyes before glancing around and taking note of the location and the people surrounding it. They stood in small groups, watching, waiting.
They were waiting for him.
He had to get out of here. Despite his vow, he couldn’t help if he was captured. He was supposed to keep humans safe.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to take a deep breath, steadying himself as he shot off to the heavens.
They were all staring at him.
He tensed at the realization.
He began flying away, wings flapping, praying that he could get away, to safety, anywhere. Then, a sharp painful feeling of realization and familiarity nearly stunned him before there was a bright flash of light, blinding and intense. His wings fluttered wildly, the familiar sensation of losing sense of reality hitting him like a truck. For a moment, the world flashed with dark shapes and forms as he fell - falling, falling. And he cried out, his scream piercing the air as he twisted to the side, desperately hoping that it wasn’t too late.
And then he hit the ground.
He let out a groan of pain as he lay on his stomach, curling in on himself as he fought to force his breathing under control. The pain of his fall, the shock and pain and sheer panic he felt, the pain in his heart.
“Ngh...” He managed, lifting his head up only to grimace in pain as it ached sharply. He reached up and rubbed at the spot on his forehead, feeling a bruise forming already - even though he hadn’t actually fallen onto his head. “Splendid.” He muttered to himself.
He let his fingers curl against the top of his head for a second before letting his hands drop, closing his eyes for a brief moment to try and regain some semblance of composure.
If anything, it made him more aware of just how exposed he was. Even with his abilities, even with his powers and authority, it seemed like Starr Park had found something to use against him.
How ironic, he mused bitterly to himself. He was supposed to bring these guys in. These guys were supposed to be his enemies. Instead of him bringing them in for judgement, they were going after him.
He gripped the cane, pushing himself up, deciding to think before taking off. He needed a plan, he decided. He needed an idea. And he needed it fast.
He took off, flying as fast as he could with his wings. He looked around frantically, scanning for anything that might offer an escape, anything that may give him an idea. Even if he had to leave behind people, he couldn’t help them if he was captured.
He was met with that same blinding flash of light, careening down towards the ground once more, only to hit a wall. Or rather, he crashed through a wall. He felt the impact jolt through his whole body, and he winced slightly, letting out a low groan as he pulled himself up.
“What in the…” He looked at the sky, looking for something that could’ve knocked him down. Or something that was the source of the…
What just happened?
He put a hand to his head, worriedly looking around himself. He couldn’t recall why he was here or what he had just experienced, just that he just got up with no idea what happened. He was scared, he was anxious… but why? What made his brain feel fuzzy and fuzzy around the edges. It hurt his head to even think about it.
It was strange, and yet… nothing else made sense. None of his other memories made sense - he could hardly recall what had happened. But angels didn’t have bad memory, that didn’t make sense. Nothing did.
It was unsettling to say the least, and he felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. Mortis looked around, deciding to walk to get a bearing of his surroundings. He noticed several odd things as he began to walk.
The trees were lovely, except it looked like something had broken some branches, leaving a small gap in the leaves. The golden path he walked along had some dents in it. Some flowers had been crushed and trampled. It was like something had fallen through the sky, but whatever it was, it was nowhere to be found.
“…why am I here?” He whispered softly, frowning as he started walking faster, his steps getting heavier and heavier, almost to the point of stumbling. He shook his head to clear it, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
He wanted to shake his head, telling himself that everything would turn out fine, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horrendously wrong. He tried to think of something, anything.
He was a guardian. A guardian Angel. He remembered that. He was here to… to protect people. So he probably shouldn’t leave until he found them. That was the logical decision, right? To find them and help them. To save them, at least.
But what had happened just then? Why was he doing this?
“I… can’t remember. I must’ve forgotten something.”
That was the most logical thing. But Angels don’t just… forget. Angels aren’t capable of forgetting. If anything, they always remember, no matter what. They remember every single detail, even when it hurts.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
He shook his head again, beginning to feel sick. He couldn’t place his finger on it but the atmosphere felt so different, it felt… off.
So, he hurried to keep moving, continuing to walk quickly through the park, trying to ignore the pain, the fear and anxiety. Trying to figure out what had just happened to him.
Something was wrong. There was a hole in his memories somewhere.
He shook his head harder, as if that would help.
“Ngggh…” He growled lowly, clenching his teeth as he continued to shake his head. He kept walking, refusing to stop, refusing to slow down or falter. He needed to get moving. He had a job to do and he couldn’t afford to waste another second.
But… what was he doing? Where was he? Why didn’t he remember? Why was he so scared?
He felt like he had to escape before he lost something important. Before something happened that he’ll never be able to recover from. Because he couldn’t let himself forget what happened. How terrified he felt, the way everything seemed to blur together so quickly - he couldn’t allow that.
Once again, he opened his wings, gliding as fast as he could into the sky, searching for any sign of life in the sky.
“I can’t afford to lose anyone.” He hissed, forcing himself not to stumble and trip as he moved swiftly across the sky. “Don’t let me forget. Don’t-“
He was an Angel. A protector. A bringer of light. He was here to protect people. And he was… leaving alone?
“Ach…” He hissed in slight pain, wincing as he flew a bit slower than the original speed. He glanced around, trying to look for anything, anything out of place. Anything strange, but his senses told him everything was normal.
Normal.
But that wasn’t right. Everything felt so wrong. Like something had happened. Like someone knew where he was.
No. No. This was crazy. This was a dream. It’s just a dream. Just a nightmare. A nightmare caused by stress and anxiety - what troubled him so much?
Maybe he had to protect someone. Maybe he shouldn’t leave. Shouldn’t just abandon them.
He shook his head, pressing his palm flat to his face. He should focus on finding his targets. Getting them back. Getting…
“I need to find them.” He said aloud, trying to convince himself of his own words. “There’s no time to spare. I need to get them, take them away. Away from this place.”
If he was surfing a simple brain fog, he couldn’t imagine what mortals would be suffering. It would be too painful. His mind wouldn’t be able to handle the pain of thinking about all the possibilities. All the horrible thoughts swirling around inside his own head that would be so unbearable to even think about that they would be impossible to bear.
It would break them. Make them shatter into pieces. No good Angel would leave mortals to that kind of fate. So, he would stay. He just needed a higher perspective so he could see better-
Light.
“Gah!” He cried out, falling through the sky. Falling. He fell.
He grabbed onto his chest tightly, squeezing his eyes shut as his arms flailed wildly as he struggled to regain control of his flight.
What was going on!? What was happening? He was falling - why was he falling?!
Why was he so scared?
He opened his eyes wide in shock, his grip loosened, allowing his hands to fall from where they had been clinging to his chest.
His vision began to swirl as his heart pounded in his chest. He blinked rapidly, attempting to keep his breathing steady, but his panic was making it hard. He couldn’t breathe. He was panicking. Oh God.
Where was he?
He felt like he was still plummeting through the air, unable to stop his fall. He tried to close his eyes against the wind, feeling something burn at the corners. The air whipped at his hair and clothes, tearing at him, and all he could do was brace himself for the crash.
Crash? Crash.
He was about to crash-
Mortis began to claw wildly at the air in a frenzy as if he just realized that he was falling. All he knew was that he was panicking, he was terrified, he was crying. He desperately tried to grab onto something despite now nonsensical it was. He couldn’t stop his hands from flying, clawing at anything that he could possibly reach. He wanted to scream in terror. He knew he could barely breath.
He closed his eyes tight, letting tears spill over as he clawed at his chest as if he was trying to get it out. His heart was screaming at him, like it had been broken a million times over. Like he realized something horrific but he had no knowledge.
He had never felt so helpless. Never felt more helpless in his entire existence. He was falling through the air with such force that he feared he break something if he were to hit the ground.
He crashed, crashing into the ground with such intensity that it cracked and shattered, sending shards everywhere. Dust filled the air, clouds of it obscuring sight, preventing Mortis from seeing his surroundings clearly. He curled up, feeling himself begin to cry, clutching his chest tightly, tears rolling down his face as he sobbed, his chest burning horribly.
“Help.” He gasped painfully, his eyes shutting tighter, tears dripping onto his cheeks. His arms wrapped around himself tighter. He was shivering slightly, although he could hardly tell.
There was a faint ringing in his ears as he came back to consiousness, his eyes still shut tight. His head spun and his chest tightened, and he felt his wings twitch. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness, before sitting up and taking another look around.
The dust that he assumed was stinging his eyes, didn’t help, and nothing immediately registered to him. Confused, he attempted to get up, feeling himself aching. He looked around for his cane, finding it nearby and grabbing it up, standing unsteadily. He turned to look around further, trying to figure out where exactly he was, before realizing.
He didn’t know. Or rather he was completely unsure of what happened at all. All he recalled was that he hurt, and he was looking for his cane to get up. That was about it.
“This is…” He mumbled quietly, raising his hands, shaking his head softly. “Where am I? Why did I come here? I thought I was working.”
Nothing at all came to mind. This place was vaguely familiar, reminding him of… he felt like he fit in in this area. There was a cottage, a few trees, golden paths. Fitting for an Angel.
Angel, he was a guardian Angel. He was supposed to protect people.
But… he didn’t know why this place made him feel so uncomfortable. He felt… empty. Empty and frightened. As if something had happened but he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember it. He wasn’t sure if he could if he wanted.
Well, if this place was disturbing him, he could only imagine how poor mortals would be handling it.
His lips pulled into a frown as his hands dropped, staring around for a moment. If there was anyone out here, anywhere, then maybe he could try to get them out of whatever danger they might be in. Even if they weren’t in immediate danger. Especially if they weren’t in immediate danger. He couldn’t think of any danger here, nothing jumped out to him. But then again, he was exhausted, hurt, and emotional, for some reason. Nonetheless, he didn’t feel like he should leave. An Angel could handle this, surely.
He shook his head slowly, turning away, walking along one of the paths, his feet dragging slightly, his movements slow and unsteady as he walked. His wings were crumpled - not broken - but he didn’t pay any mind to it. They would be fine.
He would be fine.
He was fine.
He kept moving forward, trying to ignore the fear. The uncertainty. The doubt, the uncertainty. The fear. He didn’t want to think about it. Maybe he was just worried for the mortals. He always worried about them so much, maybe a bit too much, but they were fragile. Unlike him. It would take a lot to take down an Angel.
Maybe he’d go look for mortals soon, ease his own worries by watching over them. He did get teased for being a mother hen over the mortals, but it was part of his role as a guardian Angel. For now, he was tired, and this place looked very familiar. Maybe this was home.
He found himself at the front door of the cottage - he didn’t even know that he made his way over to it. Hesitantly, he opened the door, pushing it open gently as he stepped inside. Once he entered, he glanced around briefly before closing the door behind him softly. He glanced around the house. Nothing seemed out of place, aside from a single painting placed carefully beside a picture frame, which caught his attention for a moment.
Himself. He was never the prideful one, not asking for portraits, but it appeared that he indulged himself in a commission and it slipped his mind. He didn’t recall hanging it up, but he shrugged it off. It seemed silly anyway. Perhaps he hung it here as an oddity. A gift to himself. A reminder of sorts.
With a slight smile on his face, he moved forward. Surely, if he hung it up, this place was home.
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