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cherienymphe · 20 days

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Teenage Dirtbag XIII

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, mentions of DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

“Okay,” the woman before you exhaled, looking at your paper work. “While broken, your nose should be much better in about three weeks.”

Rafe’s hand gently massaged your shoulders at that, standing at your side as the doctor gave you her final prognoses on your situation. Her dark eyes scanned the paper, humming to herself as she glanced at you. That particular action made your heart skip a beat, and you tried to ignore how nervous you felt. Rafe had done most of the talking—for obvious reasons—but you couldn’t forget how almost disbelieving she’d sounded when he told her what happened.

“I’d recommend icing it for about twenty minutes every 1-2 hours while awake, and I highly suggest taking some Ibuprofen while pain persists…”

Her words died in the air as she trailed off, a small sigh escaping as she flipped the paper.

“You’re going to experience some swelling and bruising for sure, but it’s that knee of yours I’m most concerned about.”

At that, she looked at you head on.

“You said you landed right on it?”

At your nod, she continued.

“I can’t imagine how fast you were falling to do this much damage. It’s definitely fractured,” she commented.

Your heart sank at that, and even though you’d long suspected this was more than just a bruised knee, you didn’t relish hearing it. You felt Rafe lean down, and you slowly blinked when he pressed his face into your hair, rubbing your arms in what you were sure was meant to be a soothing manner.

“What do we need to do?”

She lifted her gaze again at the sound of his voice, and you didn’t think you liked the way she looked at him.

“Rafe…right? You’re the boyfriend?” he nodded, and she spoke again. “We’ll be getting her a splint to hold her leg in place while the bone heals, and I’m making physical therapy mandatory.”

“Of course,” he said.

She looked at him for what felt like a long time before her eyes met yours again, much softer now.

“You’re going to need to stay off of it a lot, okay? We need to keep as much weight off of it as possible, and I’ll just go ahead and write you a prescription for Ibuprofen seeing as you’ll need it for both your nose and your knee.”

Just then Rafe’s phone vibrated, and you turned to look at him. He gently squeezed your arm as he looked at it, throwing you a small smile.

“Your parents are downstairs. I’m going to go get them,” he said, giving you a brief kiss on the lips. “Let me know what else she says.”

With one last final squeeze, he left you, and you weren’t stupid.

You knew it was a warning rather than comfort.

“It’s going to take about six weeks to heal. I’d personally even give it a week or two more just to be sure,” she continued once he was gone.

At your nod, she studied you, and with a sigh, she pressed her clipboard against her leg. You didn’t miss the way she glanced at the door, and you reached up before thinking better of it, tempted to touch your nose. You dropped your hand back into your lap.

“Your boyfriend said you fell…”

You nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah, I… I wasn’t paying attention,” you gave a bitter chuckle. “The stairs in his house are insane.”

She gave a slow nod.

“So, this happened at his house?”

“Yes.”

Her face was unreadable, and you watched the way she pursed her lips.

“…and where was he when this happened?”

You didn’t like her questions, nor the tone in her voice, and considering you were already on medication, the last thing you needed was to let something slip. You recalled Rafe’s harsh grip on your face just before answering the door for the EMTs, the way he’d sneered at you to behave. After all, this was your fault somehow, a mess you’d gotten yourself into, and he was going to be the one to clean it up.

“The bathroom. I thought he told you that…”

Her smile was slow.

“He did,” she confirmed. “I just wanted to rehash things, understand exactly what happened.”

At your slight frown, she continued, albeit reluctantly.

“We just don’t normally see these kinds of injuries with someone who fell down the stairs,” she admitted to you, and your heart sank. “The knee…sure…I suppose, but the broken nose…”

She hummed to herself.

“It’s a head on injury. Like something came straight at it.”

The silence between you was thick, and you forced yourself to speak.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but…that’s what happened,” you assured her.

You didn’t miss the slight way in which her face fell, and she glanced at the door again.

“Rafe Cameron… Is it safe to assume he’s Ward Cameron’s son?”

Your silence was answer enough, and before she could say anything else, you heard the man in question’s voice coming down the hall, your parents’ mixed within.

Your mother was ever dramatic, rushing to your side and almost touching your face before thinking better of it. You assured her you were fine, hating the tears in her eyes. Your father seemed just as worried, but he handled it better, only turning to the doctor to ask her everything he wanted an answer to. Your mother pressed her lips to your forehead, sniffling.

“Sweetheart, just what were you looking at to pay so little attention to where you were going, huh?”

It seemed more of a rhetorical question as she kissed your forehead again, going on about getting you home as soon as possible. You heard your father talking to the doctor about a wheelchair, and you glanced over just as Rafe came to stand by your bed again. His hand was gentle on your back.

“I’ll come over as soon as everything is finished up here. She doesn’t need to be on her feet, at all,” he said to her. “I already feel bad enough that I wasn’t around when it happened.”

“Oh hush, Rafe,” she told him, briefly pulling him into a hug. “You’re always looking after her, such a knight in shining armor, but you couldn’t have prevented this. Let’s just be glad it’s not much worse.”

She smiled at you, touching your chin, and you gave her a small one back.

When she looked away to join in on the conversation with your father and the doctor, Rafe’s hand slid up towards your neck. His fingers pressed into the skin, and a shudder crawled down your spine just as you heard him softly exhale. When you glanced up at him, those baby blues of his were already focused on you, and you blinked as he leaned in.

Mindful of your nose, he pressed a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Oh, God.”

That was the first thing Sarah said as Rafe rolled you into the hallway.

You were wide-eyed at the sight before you, lips parting in both shock and apprehension. You weren’t surprised to see Ward waiting, even if the sight of him did make your stomach twist. Rafe—and his home—were involved, after all, so you expected the oldest Cameron to show up at the hospital too. You hadn’t expected, however, Sarah and her friends to be waiting with him. Even the sight of Kie stumped you, but not as much as the sight of JJ.

You hadn’t seen him—talked to him—since that night.

…and your heart both sank and soared.

You were too preoccupied with the sight of his troubled eyes to pay attention to the noise going on around you. Ward and Sarah were asking Rafe all kinds of questions while John B., Pope, Kie, and Cleo were fussing over you. You absentmindedly answered their questions, telling them you were fine, but the entire time you couldn’t look away from the blond.

You didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched as he ran his gaze over you, eyes hardening as he took in your bruised face and the splint on your leg. JJ, so unlike himself, was deathly silent, and no one seemed to notice but you. When his eyes met yours again, they softened a tad, his face falling, and you forced yourself to look away when you felt Rafe’s hands come down on your wheelchair again.

“I know, dad, but her parents are downstairs pulling the car around, and then I’m heading over there,” you heard him say from above you.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you noted the stony look on Ward’s face as he and Rafe stared each other down. You didn’t need to be a genius to guess what the tension was about, and you wondered why Ward ever thought that Rafe would care about treating you better. Especially when he knew you’d never leave him, and his daddy would be there to cover his ass every time.

Just then the older man fixed his gaze on you, face not so taught now.

“How are you feeling?”

You didn’t answer him right away, and at your silence, he at least had the gall to look sheepish.

“Fine,” you eventually said, just loud enough for him to hear, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about the guilt that passed through his eyes.

You looked away from him before he could respond, and you only smiled at Sarah when she told you she’d drop by later to check on you. The tension between Rafe and the rest of her friends was palpable, and you recalled the last time he’d even been almost this close to any of them—the night you’d fallen asleep at John B.’s place. It was an awkward situation seeing as they didn’t like him, and he definitely didn’t like any of them.

Just as Rafe pushed you past them, you heard the last voice you expected.

“Did you do this?”

Your heart dropped at those words, and both you and Rafe turned around in shock. Well, you did as best as you could in a wheelchair, anyway. You struggled to look around Rafe, but even if you couldn’t manage to, JJ’s voice was as clear as day. Your eyes were wide and disbelieving as you stared at JJ, but he wasn’t looking at you, at all.

His eyes were colder than you’d ever seen them—so unlike his normal easygoing self—and the short-sleeved shirt he wore showed the tightening of his arms at his side. You were sure you’d never seen JJ this angry, not even after the night Rafe had raped you for lying about going to John B.’s. The younger blonde’s lip was curled over his teeth as he stared your boyfriend down, and you reached out to touch Rafe’s arm just as he stepped away from you.

That didn’t go unnoticed by JJ.

“Are you asking me did I do this to my girlfriend?” your boyfriend slowly wondered, an edge in his voice.

“JJ, what the hell?” Sarah wondered, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

JJ shook her hand off as she reached for him, moving towards Rafe.

Your attempt to stand only resulted in pain shooting through your leg.

“Yeah, I am…because I’m looking at her nose, and I’m thinking to myself ‘she got that from falling down the stairs’?” he scoffed. “You’re a piece of shit!”

You gripped the back of your chair as JJ shoved Rafe, forcing everyone else to jump into action as the severity of JJ’s anger became clear. Pope wasn’t enough to stop his friend from hitting Rafe, and you felt frozen as Ward hurried to hold Rafe back as he started to do the same.

“Hey, hey,” Ward screamed, grabbing the attention of other hospital personnel. “Get yourself together!”

Rafe struggled to listen to him, his angry gaze focused on JJ as Pope and John B. pulled the other blond back.

“I know you did this,” he spat, his voice echoing in the hall. “You’re such an asshole to her, and we’re just supposed to believe this bullshit?”

You felt helpless as you looked between them, feeling at fault. JJ only suspected the truth because he knew the true nature of your relationship with Rafe. If you’d never told him, he wouldn’t be so invested and bold in his accusations, and they wouldn’t be currently yelling at each other in the hospital. You swallowed, hating how upset JJ was.

By now, hospital staff as well as a security guard had joined you, and Ward was angrily conversing with them as he pushed Rafe to take you and go. JJ was still trying to get to him even as the security guard was threatening to arrest him, and as much as you didn’t want to, you reluctantly forced yourself to turn away.

However, that wasn’t before you noted the way Sarah looked between JJ and Rafe…and then finally you.

Your gaze was focused on your lap as Rafe angrily pushed you down the hall and farther from JJ. You could still hear the commotion from the other blond, and you fiddled with your fingers. Your heart felt like it was in your throat as Rafe pushed you along, a loud rush in your ears that was replaced by Rafe’s voice the moment you were truly alone.

“Why the fuck would he say that?”

Rafe had stopped pushing you, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you. The look on his face was thunderous, and you leaned back some just as he started to lean in. His arm twitched, like he was seconds away from grabbing you, but he clearly decided against it, and you suspected it had something to do with the cameras.

“Why the fuck would he say that?” he quietly repeated, slower this time, and you swallowed.

“I don’t… Rafe, I don’t know.”

Your heart was threatening to leap from your chest, and your boyfriend sneered at you.

“You and JJ aren’t even friends…and all of a sudden he’s accusing me of hurting you?” Rafe tilted his head to the side with a scoff. “You see how strange that looks to me, right?”

“Rafe, I don’t talk to JJ. I don’t know why he would say that, I mean…”

You scrambled for something to tell him.

“You know how much he hates you,” you lazily threw your hand up. “You’re surprised that he would accuse you of hurting me?”

Rafe’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, looking between your eyes. You could tell that he was seriously considering that possibility, their rivalry and animosity towards each other no secret. When he reached up to touch your chin, you flinched, slowly blinking as he brushed his thumb along your skin.

“JJ’s always trying to start something with you, isn’t he?” you quietly wondered, and Rafe eventually hummed in agreement. “It’s not like anyone will believe him, anyway.”

You tried to ignore the memory of Sarah looking between you three in that hallway as Rafe finally nodded. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed convinced enough, and you didn’t allow yourself to relax until he was meeting your parents at their car.

Rafe had pulled out of the driveway all of five minutes ago when a figure at your window was pulling it open.

Even if he hadn’t been texting you nonstop since you left the hospital, you expected it. The scene JJ had caused was on repeat in your mind, and it was hard to make sense of all the emotions you felt. On the one hand, it warmed your heart that he cared so much, but his boldness to stand up to Rafe—especially so publicly—worried you. It was like JJ hadn’t considered the ramifications of his actions and how they could possibly come back on you.

Not to mention, you still hadn’t quite sorted out how you felt about the last time you were alone with him.

With that being said though, in the wake of recent events, you found yourself pushing that to the back of your mind for the time being. You felt that was something you could figure out later because with one look at the blond as he slipped through your window frame, you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. JJ was now the one person you could be completely vulnerable with. You didn’t have anyone else, and the day’s events came crashing down on you.

You smiled in the face of that doctor—even your own parents—and lied about what happened to you. You’d had to welcome Rafe’s touch, accept comfort from the same hands that had done this to you. Recalling the way your mother had expressed appreciation for your boyfriend made your stomach turn, and when JJ quickly approached you, you let him take your face into his hands.

“I fucking knew it,” he murmured, pressing his face into your hair. “I knew it.”

You wanted to tell him what an idiot he was to make a scene like that, but you couldn’t manage to stop crying. You reached up to rest your hands on his forearms, sobbing against him as you pressed your forehead to his chest. Your entire frame shook, and you fought to get yourself together, knowing that Rafe wouldn’t be gone that long.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you managed to say, pulling away and looking at him.

JJ at least looked sheepish, and if you knew him as well as you liked to think you did, then you knew he regretted it almost as soon as you’d left. His own blue eyes shined as he looked at you, and you watched him struggle to swallow.

“I know,” he quietly admitted. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He gently grazed your cheek, looking over your face.

“I just… When I saw you? I wanted to be sick,” he told you. “I wanted to bash his face in…because I knew he did it.”

You looked down at that.

“I was really scared, JJ,” you confessed, voice almost inaudible. “He threw me, and…and I couldn’t stop falling.”

More tears fell.

“I was really scared,” you tearfully choked out.

He pulled you into his arms again, cheek resting against his shoulder, and your lashes fluttered at the way his hands fell from around you in search of your own. His fingers intertwined with yours, and your conflicting emotions about JJ reared their ugly heads again.

He was kind to you and fiercely protective, and he wasn’t afraid to stand up to Rafe, but the night in which you’d slept with him was so confusing. You’d been drunk and upset—because of Rafe—and JJ hadn’t exactly listened to any of your protests…but he was so kind to you. You could’ve tried harder to make him see you hadn’t been quite ready for that, this was true, but was that supposed to be on you? He hadn’t listened…

…but he was so kind to you.

It was the first time you’d had sex with anyone without being afraid, and surely that had to count for something. The whole thing could’ve used better communication, but you certainly didn’t feel the same by the end of the night. In fact, you’d happily pulled him closer and was eager to feel him inside of you again. By the end of that night, you’d wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

It’d started off weird…but JJ was no Rafe.

Your first time with Rafe wasn’t even comparable to your first time with the blond that was currently holding you. JJ made you feel safe, and maybe it was like he’d said before. Maybe your relationship with Rafe just made you scared to do anything for yourself, scared to let yourself be loved properly.

“Where did he go?” he wondered after some time.

“Home,” you whispered. “Ward’s mad at him.”

When you pulled away to look at JJ, there was a slight frown on his face at that.

“Ward knows Rafe did this, and…he’d promised to be better. He-.”

“…is an idiot for thinking Rafe would actually treat you right. He’s just as bad as his psycho son,” JJ scoffed.

You didn’t argue with JJ on that, and when you looked at him again, he was running his eyes along your nose and the surrounding area. You couldn’t decipher all of the emotions on his face, but you could tell that he was sad, and he closed his eyes before turning away.

“I hate him.”

Sometimes you hated him too.

Mostly, you were just scared of him.

“They gave you some medication for it, right?” he wondered, looking at your nose again before briefly glancing at your knee.

“Yeah,” you told him. “They said my nose will take three weeks and my knee will take at least six.”

“Jesus,” you heard him murmur as he glanced away, jaw tight. “I don’t get how he can do that to you.”

His hand tightened on yours when he met your gaze again. His fair hair was going every which way, some hanging onto his forehead, and his blue eyes sparkled in the light of your bedroom. JJ looked so sad and beautiful as he gazed at you.

“You’re…you’re probably the sweetest girl I’ve ever met,” he quietly admitted. “…and I don’t get how he can look at you and want to hit you and shove you and make you bleed.”

One of his hands was resting on your cheek, now, mindful of the bruising.

“I don’t understand how he can know you and be so mean to you.”

You looked down at that.

“I wish I could lock you away and protect you from the world,” JJ said, more to himself than you, and when you looked up, your gaze fell to his lips as he leaned in.

The kiss could barely be called that, and when he pulled away, guilt settled in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you eventually said, continuing at his look of confusion. “…for…ignoring you after that night.”

Understanding settled over his features.

“I was really confused,” you shakily breathed. “About…well…everything.”

“It’s okay-.”

“I’m still confused,” you hurried to add. “I don’t know what I genuinely don’t want or what I’m just afraid to want.”

Your words came out slow, fighting to understand your own mind.

“…and part of me feels like I’m doing something horrible to Rafe even though I know that isn’t true,” you tearfully continued. “I know that nothing I do will ever compare to what he’s done to me, but I feel so horrible.”

JJ wiped your face as best as he could, shushing you, but you shook your head.

“…and I know…”

A feeling of dread weighed you down, a chill gliding down your spine as your next words settled on your tongue.

“I know that if he ever found out about us…he’d kill me,” JJ shook his head at your words, wanting you to stop talking. “It’s true, I know it’s true…”

“Don’t say that,” he said, taking your face into his hands.

“He would, JJ,” you dazedly whispered, recalling that day in his truck and the night of his birthday and the day you called the cops. “Rafe would strangle me without even thinking about it-.”

“Y/N, stop. Don’t think like that,” JJ gently shook you.

“…but you make me really happy,” you tearfully told him, looking into his eyes. “I’m happy when I’m with you and…”

You looked between his eyes.

“…and sometimes…sometimes I think it’d be worth it,” you murmured.

JJ was standing, now, making you keep your eyes on him.

“That’s not happening. Do you understand me?” he continued at your silence. “I won’t let him do that to you. He’s not taking you away from me.”

More tears spilled over because there was no way to guarantee that. Even if you and JJ stopped this, right now, there was still a chance Rafe could go too far one day and just…kill you. It was something that was always in the back of your mind, even when you tried your best to keep him happy with you.

JJ pressed his forehead to yours, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Don’t you wanna be with me? Huh?” he breathed. “Don’t you want to go on dates with me and hang out with my friends and hold my hand out in the open?”

You gave a trembling nod.

“Okay,” he shakily exhaled. “Okay, so don’t…don’t say things like that.”

JJ knelt before you, looking up at you and wiping your tears.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you. “I’d kill him before he ever killed you. Do you understand me?”

Again, you nodded.

Standing, he pulled you against him, burying his face into your hair and running his hand along your back.

“He’s not taking you away from me. That I can promise you…”

Your lashes fluttered as JJ massaged your scalp, and the conviction in his voice made you want to believe him.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx #outer banks #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic

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2hightocare · 2 months

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LOVE WAGER! 01

Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!

a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌

★ masterlist!

3 years ago…

You were a hopeless romantic.

Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.

The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.

The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.

It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.

You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?

You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.

Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.

Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.

You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.

“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’

Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.

“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.

“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.

“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.

“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.

“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.

“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.

“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.

“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.

“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.

“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.

“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.

“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.

“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.

“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.

“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.

2 years ago..

The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.

You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.

“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.

Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.

“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.

“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.

“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.

As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.

“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.

He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.

“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.

“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.

You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.

“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.

“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.

“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.

“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.

“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.

His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.

“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.

“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.

“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.

“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.

“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.

He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.

“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.

You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.

A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.

“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.

Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.

“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.

“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.

“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.

Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.

He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.

Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.

Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.

He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.

He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.

Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.

Present day..

Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.

As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.

You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.

As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.

While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.

“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.

He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.

“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.

Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.

“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.

“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.

“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.

“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.

You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.

“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.

“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.

“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.

“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.

“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.

“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.

“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.

You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.

For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.

“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.

“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.

“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.

"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.

You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?

As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.

What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?

Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)

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p0ckykiss · 6 months

Text

every second is a highlight - lee heeseung

summary -> heeseung's always had a soft spot for you. it takes a little while longer for him to realise that it's actually something more.

genre -> fem!reader x heeseung, fluff, idiots in love, don't realise they like each other, tiny hints of angst

heeseung swirls the drink in his hand as he waits outside. he didn’t think things through, acted on impulse when he’d seen the flood of messages after his work. this is the only solution he could come up with, wanting to cheer his friend up. heeseung sighs softly, looking down at the melting drink. the tips of his fingers are frozen but he bears the tingling. he switches over, blowing hot air to keep himself warm.

it’s worth it though.

you come out of his building, beaming smile as you spot heeseung by the stairs. if it hadn’t been for the brick wall beside him, heeseung's sure he would’ve dropped the drink. all of a sudden, you run to him, enveloping heeseung in your arms. there’s a lot of squealing in his ear, but he pays it no mind. it’s normal with you and over the years, heeseung can say that he’s immune. he’s aware of the co-workers staring at them, so heeseung pulls away hesitantly. it doesn’t affect you, though. you intertwine your fingers, waving to the others before tugging heeseung away.

“you came all the way to give me my favourite drink?” you ask in between sips. “you didn’t have to, you know. i always rant about work.”

“how often do you end up in a fight with your superior?” heeseung rolls his eyes. you offer a sip of your drink then and without hesitation, he takes a greedy sip.

“ya, that’s like half the drink.” you scoff, grumbling under your breath. “you could’ve gotten your own.”

heeseung doesn’t like any of those drinks though. he doesn’t want to say no to you when you're offering sips of your own. can’t watch your crestfallen face upon rejection. he wonders how long he’ll be able to pull that off for.

“it tastes better.” heeseung grins through his lie. “maybe because it’s yours?”

even though teasing you is a second nature to him now, it goes both ways. heeseung has lost count of the number of times he’s caught you stealing his hidden gummies in the kitchen. he’s come to the decision of stocking that cupboard with all of your favorite snacks. because you love taking them away.

there’s a tug on heeseung's fingers and he realizes you are trying to point out to something. he’d forgotten you were holding hands. the cold from earlier has dissipated, the searing warmth from you is all that he can feel. heeseung keeps a tight hold, not wanting to let go.

“what is it?” heeseung squints.

“can we get some food?” you point to the shop by the road. “i skipped lunch.”

“you told me you ate lunch.” heeseung furrows his eyebrows. he remembers asking earlier and you had confirmed that you did. you've been so busy with work, heeseung has to make sure to remind you during the day.

“before you get mad at me, i was on my way to get lunch. but then, someone needed my help.” you mumble. “i would’ve assigned it to someone else. if only anyone else could do it.”

“i’m dropping by your work tomorrow. we’re eating lunch together.” heeseung sighs, walking towards their new destination.

“no, you won’t. hee, your work is twenty minutes away. by the time you reach me, you’ll lose half your lunch. there’s not enough left for you to return.” you shake your head. “i promise i won’t do it again. just this one time.”

it’s never one time, but heeseung lets it go. butting heads with you about this ends up with you both going in circles. maybe he’ll start organising a weekly meal plan for you both.

“oh, y/n, you’re back!” the elderly woman running the shop greets you first, smiling brightly. “you told me you were going to come last week.”

“i know, i’m really, really sorry. work has me busy.” you apologize. “i promise to eat whatever you recommend today.”

heeseung looks between the two, wondering how often you end up coming here during work hours or after.

“did you bring your boyfriend today?” the owner glances at heeseung. “i hope you’ve been taking care of y/n. she spends too much time working.”

the tips of your ears turn red and heeseung chuckles at your flustered state. he’s not sure if the reaction is about the insinuation of you being together or you over-working.

despite the craving to let you suffer a little longer, heeseung chooses to come to the rescue.

“i’m her good friend, heeseung. we grew up together.” heeseung introduces himself. “i’m trying to keep an eye on her but she likes lying about when she’s eating.”

“it was just today!” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest.

the owner laughs, shaking her head. “let’s go. there’s some empty seats on the other side.”

as soon as you sit down, heeseung notices you shiver. you rub your hands, hoping to generate some heat. your blue coat clearly not enough to keep you warm. heeseung pulls over his jacket, thrusting it in your hands. you look confused for a moment before shaking your head.

“i’ll be fine once i eat.” you push it back towards heeseung.

“you’re shivering. don’t make me zip you up.” heeseung threatens. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. you tend to stubborn about your own wellbeing, choosing to sacrifice it for some silly reasoning.

“won’t you be cold?” you frown. “what if you get sick?”

“living with you for so long has me prepared for your lack of foresight. i have another jacket.” heeseung quips, ignoring your offended gasp.

your bickering is quashed when the food is put down on your table. heeseung watches in amazement as you wolf down at least four pieces in one go. it leaves behind a trail of sauce all over your lips and heeseung grimaces. he wipes it away aggressively with a tissue.

“no one is taking the food away from you. can you eat slowly?” you grin at heeseung's comment.

for once, you listen to heeseung's advice. you take smaller bites and there’s less of a mess. you end up taking at least half of heeseung's bowl too, but there’s no complains on his side. as long as you are satisfied and happy, nothing else matters.

---

“heeseung, wake up.”

someone is shaking him. the tiredness in his body makes him crave more rest and he rolls over, ignoring the disruption.

“we’re going to be late.”

this time, the blanket is ripped off the bed and heeseung shivers as the chilly air hits him. slowly, he opens her eyes, squinting at the person towering over him. y/n? heeseung rubs the sleep away, sitting up slowly as he struggles to make sense of the situation.

“awake now? we have twenty minutes to make the next bus or else we’re screwed.” you help him off the bed. “how the hell did you sleep through your alarm? you’re better than me.”

he remembers briefly stirring in his sleep, but the late night yesterday had taken a toll. heeseung promises himself never to drink with jay and jake on a work night again.

“you could’ve gone to work. my stop is earlier than yours.” heeseung frowns as he looks at the time. you will be late. why did you stay back with him?

“i already called in about my lateness and it’s fine. sometimes over-working has its perks. they were nice about it.” you scrunch up your nose. “i’ll grab you something for breakfast. get ready, okay?”

nodding meekly, heeseung hurries off to get dressed. there’s something suspicious about the way you are acting. did something happen last night? his memory is foggy beyond the point of him downing shots with jake. he’s adding this to the long list of reasons to lock their wine cabinet in the kitchen.

“ready? let’s go.” you hand heeseung his bag, as well as his breakfast. “i’ll meet you after work so that we can go to the café together?”

“what café?” heeseung asks. he doesn’t recall having a conversation about anything of the sort.

you snicker, adding to heeseung's confusion. “i knew you were out of it from your second glass of wine yesterday. jay wanted to visit the café he’s been raving about for a week. you said yes to it last night.”

oh.

“right. i can come to you, if you want?.” heeseung says as you both reach the bus stop. “you’re already busy, plus you’re late today because of me.”

“i am late and we’re going to be on a crowded bus.” you sigh. “heeseung, the direction of the café is towards your work. there’s no point in you coming to me for us to go back.”

the point is made and heeseung realizes the logic behind it. even though he’d rather pick you up from work, there’s no use doubling the travelling.

he spots the bus at the stop, a sense of dread brewing in his stomach. peak hour public transport is the worst. there’s no place to sit, no place to stand. people don’t want to take the empty seats next to strangers. and heeseung hates crowded buses.

you reach out then, loosely interlacing your fingers. you smile softly at heeseung, squeezing his hand lightly. “it’ll be okay. you board first.”

heeseung hasn’t been able to figure it out yet, but somehow you know when he’s unsettled. you know when heeseung is nervous. know when he needs that extra bit of support. and even though he asks you every time, you just shrug your shoulders.

feeling the reassurance of your support has never been an issue. you're vocal about chasing away insecurities and love to show it too. that’s what heeseung appreciates the most. you ground him, anchoring heeseung in the times even he himself doesn’t realize how much he needs it. it’s taken the years of your friendship to realize that your habit is to put everyone else first and then yourself. you cater for the needs of others, their stories, their worries. it gives heeseung the push to do the same for you.

as you both squeeze through the people on the bus, your grip on heeseung only tightens. you let out a shaky breath only when you reach the back of the bus. heeseung glances over at the seats, perking up at the sight of an empty one. he ushers you over before you have a chance to argue. for a moment, heeseung swears he spots a glare on your face, but the bus lurches and you stumble, sitting on the seat.

heeseung giggles, inherently winning an unspoken argument. you will always be the priority in his eyes.

---

“oh, you’re out early.” you walk beside heeseung as you leave the building.

heeseung zones out as you start talking about jay. there’s a dull pain in his chest. one he wants to erase. is it the thought of losing you? heeseung can’t quite comprehend the reasoning. hearing you ramble on and on about jay's funny jokes at work is rubbing him the wrong way.

“–love it more. are you even listening to me?” you pause, crossing your arms over your chest.

no, he isn’t. heeseung opens his mouth to reply but you wave him off.

“we’re here. i’ll pay today.” you say, walking inside the shop.

you regret saying that later when you're at the cashier. heeseung smiles smugly at the long receipt being printed out. of course, he’d take advantage of the offer.

you bicker about it all the way to the café, neither wanting to relent. thankfully, one of your friends, mina ends up breaking your squabbling.

“you guys made it! did you buy me a present?” there’s a shine in mina's eyes as she glances at your bags.

“no.” heeseung deadpans, placing it on the table.

“so mean.” mina mumbles. “y/n, have a look at their menu. i know you like some of the drinks i like, so i can recommend a few for you.”

heeseung chuckles at the excitement brimming between the two of you. always wanting to try out new things. he can’t relate to appreciating the heavily caffeinated drinks. “i’m going to go to the bathroom. i’ll be back in a bit.”

“i’ll order something for you.” you say absentmindedly.

mina locks eyes with heeseung, a teasing grin on her face. before she can do anything with the information, heeseung scrambles to escape.

heeseung took some time to compose himself as he headed back to your table.

he sees confusion plastered on mina's face, busy staring at the americano on his spot.

“that’s yours?” mina points. “you told me you hated everything coffee related.”

“no, i didn’t.” heeseung winces as he swallows a few sips. still just as bitter as he thought it would be.

“you hate coffee?” you are shocked as you look at heeseung. “but you drink half of mine whenever you buy it for me.”

there’s a hint of hurt laced in your voice and heeseung curses internally. this is exactly what he’d been avoiding. he flits his gaze between you and mina, not knowing how to answer. well, it’s not like mina didn’t know about his inability to say no to you. this isn’t news.

“his taste must’ve changed since we last talked.” mina smiles, chipping away on the pressure. “it’s been a while since we’ve come to a café.”

“that must be it. he never says no to me whenever i offer him sips from my own drink.” you chuckle.

heeseung chokes on his next sip, coughing hard. you didn’t have to say that out loud. his cheeks grow warm as mina looks over at him again. she’ll never live that down.

----

it’s your second bottle of wine you're about to finish between the four of you. you are huddled against heeseung, engrossed in playing with your threaded fingers. mina sits across, busy showing off something on her phone to jay.

heeseung's only had one glass himself yet his tolerance has always been low. you seem to be a bit soberer. his promise to himself about not drinking on weekdays flew out the window as soon as jay brought over two bottles from his father’s restaurant.

“are you okay?” heeseung asks, brushing your hair away from your face as you nod. “do you want to sleep?”

“i’m fine now. more worried about their state.” you chuckle at mina and jay. “how did they drink more than us but seem alert.”

“practice y/n.” jay quips. “don’t push yourself and you’ll build resistance. but i don’t think that’ll ever work with you. weak drinks are too strong for you.”

you grumble at the insult but don’t bite.

“do you guys think you can dance drunk?” mina challenges the three of you. “i bet heeseung can’t even stand on his feet right now.” she giggles at her phone.

heeseung's never one to back down and he leans over, plucking the phone out of mina's hands. what is this? a dance challenge? it seems simple to the eyes but requires a partner. he’s not doing this on his own.

you shift beside him, hooking your chin over heeseung's shoulder.

“that looks hard.” you squint. “why is it so fast?”

“do you want to try?” heeseung gets up, pulling you along with him. “i’ll guide you.”

“you watched it two times. i don’t trust you.” you shake your head.

“i’m offended. you should have more faith in me.” heeseung gasps. “just mirror what i do at the start.”

running through the video one more time, you nod. you stand in front of him as heeseung starts with his right hand up, left hand down. he intertwines his fingers with you, barely masks the sharp inhale that escapes his lips. he’s overwhelmed by your strong grip, but uses it to his advantage, lowering you for a mere second before pulling you back up. heeseung unwinds one arm, giggling as you squeal at the sudden movement. he tugs on your hand again, bringing you close. heeseung leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as your noses brush against each other.

even the darkness of the room couldn’t hide your gaze lingering on heeseung's lips. he meets your eyes, the confliction undeniably reflecting in heeseung's own.

“i don’t want to fight this any longer.” you sigh.

“then, don’t.” heeseung let’s go of your hands, cradling your cheeks between his palms instead. he brushes his thumbs across. “and just so you know, i don’t want to fight this either.”

you close the distance, pressing your lips against heeseung's. your eyes flutter close. it’s just as heated as it’s soft. not what heeseung ever really thought it would be like. it's so much more than that. he encircles your waist as you pull him by his shirt, keeping him near. it’s only when heeseung hears someone clear their throat that he remembers their friends are still there. he hesitantly moves away, kissing your forehead.

“god damn you guys. we didn’t need to see that. but finally!” jay shouts, cheering. “it seems like the plan worked.”

you and heeseung whip your heads back to jay.

“what plan?”

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confused-wanderer · 1 year

Text

How would Jason react, or even know about Bruce nearly killing the joker?

He doesn’t hear it from Damian, Dick nor Barbara. It’s only when a few years have passed and relations between Bruce and him slowly start cooling that he starts being able to return to the Manor more often without feeling pangs of guilt, longing, nostalgia and overall the Lazarus Pit screaming to be let out.

However, he isn’t dumb. Whenever he complains to Tim about how Tim’s been treated better and loved more than he was, he’s quick to notice how Tim’s jaw tenses, with fingers spastic as if they wanted to curl into fists. Nor does he miss what Tim whispers under his breath twenty minutes later.

If only you knew..

Bruce keeps trying to make amends, tries engaging with him face to face before a few bullets got the message across and he retreated. But Jason could still feel him waiting, hovering, for the signal to light up and let him know he was needed.

He could go to hell though.. Every single time he looked at Bruce he felt safe, followed by fierce anger burning through his veins. He hated that he felt at ease when Bruce entered. Hated that he almost fell back into their old banter. Hated that he missed him. Hated that he still trusted him.

Hated that he still loved him.

One night, after giving Bruce the cold shoulder the entire time and watching in satisfaction as Bruce’s shoulder slumped in defeat, he felt the sudden need to comfort him. He’s the batman, he chided himself. If he could get over your death, he can get over this.

Standing out on the balcony, he never spoke to the presence already there.

“Master Jason..”

“Hey Alfred, it’s pretty cold out you sure you’d be fine?”

“I’ve faced worse winters.”

Jason sighed. That old man always had an air of expectancy around him, just like when he was robin, like a mother waiting for their child to tell them what they did wrong.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what the bloody hell you think you’re doing?”

That caught Jason’s attention. Hatred and stoic ness quickly melted and all he could do was stare at him in shock.

“Why are you tormenting him?”

“Are you fucking kidding me??-“ “Language master Jason.”

“Alfred. You were there.”

“There was nothing master Bruce could do to save you-”

“I DONT CARE ABOUT THAT ALFRED! He-“

Shoulders slumped, he looked down.

“He replaced me.” Jason whispered. “He didn’t even wait till my body was cold he just fucking went ahead and replaced me. Even after knowing I died, he still put another child in that suit, MY suit! And then, HE DIDNT EVEN AVENGE ME!! He just took Joker back to Arkham, which is basically just like a vacation for him, and LEFT. After all these-”

A shivering cold current of electricity ran through his body and he could feel the Lazarus Pit rising, making his body grow colder by the second.

“After all this time.. he never did anything.” Jason muttered. “So yeah, not only was knowing I was dead for four years a slap to the face.. but to come back home to find another kid in my room and business as usual? As if I never existed? That just made me realise I didn’t matter.”

CLINK

The tea cup in Alfred’s hands was shaking, and a wave of concern overtook Jason. He was about to reach a hand out to steady it when Alfred put the cup down, sighed and looked at the moon.

“Master Bruce never gave Robin to Tim. I did.”

“.. Come again?”

“I gave it to him myself. After you died.. he was a shell of himself. He started pushing himself more, brutalising criminals to the point of hospitalisation. After you died.. a big part of him did too. He refused to be around people, friends, to be happy, to eat. He was punishing himself for your death by refusing to live. And I never forgot you either my boy.. Every night for months I stood by the windows, staying awake and looking outside..hoping to catch a glimpse of you. For the first time in my life I prayed for you to be beaten and bruised, but alive. Locked myself in your room, in your memories, as if standing over your bed was guarding you even in death..Master Bruce missed you so much he played tapes of your missions, just to hear your laugh.”

The older man shook his head and refused to look at him.

“He rejected Tim, but I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. I’d already lost one son..” Alfred paused, looking at Jason with such fondness and pain. “ I wasn’t going to lose another.”

A long pause lingered in the air, and Jason could hear his heart racing as it processed what he’d heard.

“As for Joker,” Jason looked up, and saw the most terrifying scowl he’d ever seen before, with eyes filled with hatred and a craving for retribution.

“Jason Bruce almost killed him too. Like you said, I was there. I was always there. He had chas- hunted Joker down, torturing him slowly and violently until the air was thick with his screams. How every bone was shattered, with so much blood you couldn’t even tell the tiles underneath were white.”

Alfred closed his eyes, and Jason couldn’t help feel that though he was remembering the scene, he was also reveling in it. “His body shattered, smile gone replaced with pain and the howls of misery that he emitted that night.. alas-”

“He didn’t kill him.”

Alfred’s eyes bore into his, and reflected the darkness of the shimmering sky.

“You’re not hearing me. He damn well nearly did. There are things worse than death in this world and Bruce made sure to make Joker feel every single.one. But Superman.. heard him. He heard the roars of fury and grief, and stopped him. All while Bruce stood over the broken body of what once was human. All while muttering your name over and over again, like it was a prayer that kept him grounded. With every hit he took, with every ounce of pain he delivered, he did it with your name on his lips.”

They both just stood there.. shadows in fading moonlight as the noises of life started waking the world with their song.

“Unfortunately, his voice was recorded on one of those surveillance cameras. Tim wiped it, but we kept one copy.. and though the footage is corrupted, the sound is crystal clear.”

Alfred hesitated, before gently cupping Jason’s hands and placing a cold weight on them.

“I hope you never hear it..my boy. I’d rather you burnt it. But if you want to hear the raw truth.. I wanted you to have proof.”

Sunlight burst through the horizon, and with it came the dawn of a new time.

Jason heard the tape as soon as he left.

And burnt it right after.

Alfred was right.

All he had heard were the guttural cries of a broken man..

A father, grieving for his son.

Jason finding out Dick killed joker post:

#dick grayson #batfam #batfamily #batman #jason todd angst #jason todd robin #batman angst #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #red hood angst #badass Alfred pennyworth

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lou-struck · 1 year

Text

Are You Watching?

Katsuki Bakugou x reader

~ Bakugou has never seen your favorite movie before, and so you end up watching him more than the movie.

Genre: Fluff

a/n: I do this alot, I just get so excited when I’m watching one of my favorite movies with someone I want to know that they are liking it.

As you walk through your front door and kick off your shoes that just don't quite fit right, you are hit with an overwhelming sense of victory.

Today was a bitch, but you made it through unscathed.

That in itself calls for a celebration of self-care. With Katsuki still out on patrol for a bit, you decide to slip into something cozy, get yourself a big bowl of microwavable popcorn, and take out your stack of DVDs.

But these aren't just any DVDs; these are your favorite comfort movies, the kind you can watch anytime and never get bored. You know every line by heart, quoting the lines under your breath and laughing in anticipation of your favorite scenes.

You've only been watching for twenty minutes or so, but your mood has already been raised up out of the gutters of exhaustion and disappeared when you first came home.

"Oi, what are you watching?" a familiar guff voice calls from behind you, sending elated prickles over your skin as your turn around.

Katsuki Bakugou, your boyfriend leans up against the doorway, he looks so natural, but you have a feeling he posed himself that way to look cool in front of you. You pause the movie and turn your full attention to your handsome partner, who looks just as exhausted as you did earlier.

"Suki, I didn't hear you come in." you smile, scooting over on the couch. "Get changed and come watch these with me."

"Haven't you seen this one before?" he yells from down the hall, already changing into his comfy clothes. He loves watching movies with you; it makes him feel normal after a long day dealing with the worst society has to offer.

"Yeah, so? It's one of my favorites," you call back defensively. "What's the big deal?"

"I just don't get how you can watch the same damn movie so many times," he grumbles, coming back into the living room wearing a black shirt and some flannel pajama bottoms you got him for Christmas last year. He is already looking more relaxed than he did before. Off in the distance, you can barely make out the sound of the washing machine buzzing to life, cleaning the rest of the day out of his hero costume.

"But you haven't seen it yet." you giggle, flipping up the mountain of blankets dramatically so he can get under them with you, patting the now open spot with your other hand.

He chuckles amusedly and joins you on the couch. His warmth comforts you in a different way than the blankets have as you breathe in his familiar scent. "This is much better," you sigh as his arm wraps around you. You place your head on his chest, your favorite kind of pillow.

"Bad day?" he asks, gently rubbing circles onto your skin.

"Not the best," you admit, shuddering at the memories from earlier today. You'd tell him all the annoying details later, but now, unwinding is the priority. "You?"

"It was pretty shitty, but I've had worse," he responds flatly. You believe him; the news coverage today told you all you needed to know about his bad day.

"Then I guess we can just stay here until it all goes away," you chuckle, reaching for the remote and pressing play. Bakugou wouldn't admit it out loud, but the idea of just staying here on the couch, cozy with you in his arms, is the perfect ending to any day, no matter how shitty it was.

Your conversation dies down as you both watch the movie. It really is the kind that you can watch over and over again.

You think to yourself that it's strange that even after watching this movie in your living room so many times, Katsuki has never seen it for himself.

Wait, if he hasn't seen it before, that means he doesn't know about The Twist.

You find your eyes drifting from the screen over to his handsome face. His crimson gaze remains transfixed on the screen in front of him. There is something so satisfying about watching someone watch your favorite movie so intently. Even if it's one he would not choose to watch himself.

You know what's going to happen, so you don't need to be watching as close. Katsuki is much more interesting right now. How will he react? Some of your friends said that the Twist was predictable, but others said they had no idea it was coming. The anticipation of it all makes you look at him even more intensely.

Sensing your gaze on him, he turns his head towards you. "What are you looking at?" he huffs, "Do I have somethin on my face?"

"No," you say, looking away quickly, "It's nothing; keep watching."

He shrugs it off and returns his attention to the screen. You try and focus on the movie, but you can't help it; you have to see what he thinks about the Twist. You have to see his face. You shamelessly bring your gaze back over to him, only to find that he is not looking at the screen at all. His eyes are on you.

"Suki, you're not watching; this is important," you whine dramatically as if you are not the whole reason he is distracted in the first place.

He tsks, "How am I supposed to watch the damn movie if you're staring at me like that?" his voice rising in volume.

"Just pay attention," you pout, crossing your arms over your chest., "I just wanted to see what you thought about the next part. It's my favorite."

His gaze softens as he tries to untangle your crossed arms. "Such a weirdo," he chuckles, leaning over and giving your cheek a quick kiss. "I'm watchin, I Promise."

Despite the dry air outside, his lips are still soft and smooth against your skin. You uncross your arms and return to your previous position on top of him. "You gotta watch," you mumble, trying to discreetly look at him and the screen at the same time.

And then it happens—the Twist.

The main character being betrayed by their own best friend. You've seen this part so many times you could quote it word for word. But Katsuki…

"Where the Hell did that come from," he yells, sitting up quickly, ruining your comfortable resting spot against him. His mouth is agape, and his eyes are wide as he stares back at you, hoping for some sort of explanation. His features then go from shock to loving irritation as he ruffles your hair on top of your head. "You were waiting for me to watch this, weren't you?"

"I knew you'd be surprised," you grin cheekily. Trying to bat away his hand from your head. "There were a few hints earlier on that make more sense."

"What hints?" he asks, narrowing his eyes and biting the inside of his cheeks as he tries to recall any sort of detail that would lead to the reveal of this betrayal. Obviously, he is still very troubled by the turn of events. "I didn't see any damn hints. Gimme the remote; we are watching this thing again."

#bnha x reader #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #Katsuki bakugou x reader

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corpsebasil · 16 days

Text

HC’s for Hunger Games Nikolai Au

GoodLordhessohandsomeoanasojsossiie

You won the games when you were fifteen. Whaaaaat a player, too. When it was down to the final two you, wielding the skills taught to you at illegal training academies, easily dispatched your opponent and earned the crown. Nikolai, your mentor, had been there to comfort you when the reality of the games began to catch up to you.

Wait here—

^^me jumping into his arms after the games

“Nik.” Your voice is small when you sit up straight, legs slightly wobbly underneath you. Your mentor, Nikolai, has a frown on his face as he steps into the room. The Capitol has you shacked up in some sort of hospital; the hovercraft had taken you on a short ride after your extraction from the arena. “Nikolai, I…” You can only stare, eyes teary, a grief you don’t know how to convey tightening your chest.

“I know.” He murmurs, reaching your bedside in only a few short strides. You flinch at his touch, one foot still in the arena, but soon he’s found himself wrapped up in you. He doesn’t speak when you tremble. Just rubs your back, feeling your arms tighten around his waist like snakes. “That’s it. I’ve got you now, yeah?”

You sniffle at the soothing notes of his voice, so different from the screams that had haunted the arena. So much death. When you finally pull away to look up at him you’re slightly surprised to find his own blue eyes a bit teary. You force a weak smile.

“How bad do I look?” You joke, your words unsteady. Nikolai stares in silence for so long your heart begins to pound.

He reaches out carefully, one hand resting against the side of your dirty face. His clean thumb smooths a line through the grime and blood on your cheek, revealing the skin beneath. Your gaze tracks the lone tear that escapes his eye before he blinks quickly, nodding at you and backing up.

“Good to see you can take my advice.” He jokes, raising his brows in reference to your track record of not doing that at all in the arena.

“I won, didn’t I?” You scoff, but something about the way he’d looked at you, something about the fact way he’d been so gentle, had pulled at your heart.

“Don’t get cocky.” His grin is a slash of white. “Everyone is the Capitol is already singing your praises to high Heavens. I honestly think every single citizen had hearts in their eyes when you won.”

“Great.” You say drily. “Just what I wanted.”

The two of you share a fast smile before he nods to the door.

“Let’s go. I’d like to talk to your stylist for a minute before the interviews.”

——

Ummm more HC’s….

We’ll talk more about Coen, another OC of mine, in later HG series posts. But just know that basically he was tribute that you mentored with Nikolai when you were seventeen and he died. Yeah. RIP Coen you beautiful S.O.B. you were liked while you were here.

So you don’t get with Nikolai until you’re like. Twenty. Sorry but I don’t see you guys getting together sooner than that it just doesn’t make sense for the both of you.

So one day you’re at home in Victor’s Village for District Two. Your house, being farther from most of the others, ends up becoming Nikolai’s pretty much second home. You spend all your time together; you share your meals, even share your bed with him. Nothing happens in that bed, obviously, even if you’ve begun to look at him differently lately.

Let’s be so for real you never looked at him as just a friend throughout the entire time you’ve known him but the line just wasn’t crossed okay?

But the two of you had been sharing some wine and acting stupid, dancing around your kitchen as you played music on the stereo. When you both stopped, your arms around his neck, his around your waist, the two of you laughed for a second before you were looking up, your nose brushing the side of his when your turn your head.

You both freeze a bit, neither pulling very far apart as you get a good look at one another.

His blue eyes focus on yours for a moment before he’s dragging his gaze slowly down to your mouth, his hands on your waist tightening. You cant help it, honestly! Blame the wine okay! But suddenly you’re pulling him closer and somehow you’ve ended up on top of the kitchen counter and he’s kissing you deeper and deeper.

^ me and him

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #the hunger games #the hunger games Au #catching fire #katniss everdeen

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dearestmui · 6 months

Note

can u do mui x demon! reader?

like, with the same plot the first 2 (?) episodes have where tanjiro comes back and finds nezuko as a demon, but with mui and reader

also (this is optional) reader is hesitant to hurt mui

TURNED INTO A DEMON

Summary: Muichiro comes home to you, only for you to be turned into a demon. Cw: graphic description, mentions of anxiety and vomitting Pairings: Muichiro x demon reader. Additional tags: no manga spoilers. muichiro without amnesia. he's not a demon slayer yet. can be interpreted as platonic or romantic. angst to comfort. Things are slightly altered in Muichiros backstory Word count: 1785

You ran away from home and formed a close bond with the Tokito twins. Unfortunately, the older brother died after an attack from a demon outside your home, and the lady who used to visit you to recruit the twins as demon slayers stopped visiting, which left you and Muichiro alone. You and Muichiro have been living together for awhile now, and it's been tough since Yuichiro died. While you were in charge of everything inside the house, he'd go out to gather materials such as wood and food.

Every time he goes out, you feel a strong sense of anxiety bubbling in your stomach, almost making you want to vomit. The thought of him leaving and never coming back haunts you until you hear the door opening again. Only then could you find a brief moment of relief until the next day when he had to go out.

You never thought that one day, the door opening would not be Muichiro

"Okay...." Your voice sounded like that of a sad kitten's. "Please come home safely, and don't take too long..!!" You hesitantly replied. Absolutely hating this time of day, you could feel yourself getting nauseous from the anxiety again.

"Y/n, I'm going to the village. Our food supply is running out." He told you. It was winter, so you couldn't grow crops. Instead, you relied on selling wood to buy ingredients.

Muichiro simply let out a hum and stepped out.

"I love you!" You'd repeat this phrase everytime he steps outside the door. To which he would simply reply with a hum of acknowledgment. He never repeated this phrase back, afraid that if he were to love someone, they'd disappear just like his mother, his father, his precious brother..

Ever since the death of his brother, Muichiro wasn't as energetic as he used to be. He knew he still had you to take care of, though. So no matter how depressed he was, how many times he wanted to give up, he needed to stay with you. He never understood that everything he did for you was out of love, because he'd do them without thinking much of it. It was something he did as If he was programmed to do it

He loved you so much he'd do anything for you without hesitance

It took longer than usual to get to the village. The deep thick snow reaching slightly below his knees made it hard to move. Him carrying wood on his back didn't make it any better. Luckily, at this season it was easier to sell wood for people who wanted to warm up their home.

When he arrived at the village, he was warmly welcomed by the locals.

"Muichiro! It's good to see you again!" They warmly welcomed the young boy. People started to call out for him to buy his wood. The villagers knew about Muichiro's situation, since they were close with his parents. So they always tried their best to support him.

Around evening, he managed to sell most of his wood, and traded the rest for ingredients. Having everything he needed in a bag, he was ready to come back home to you. Muichiro started to walk to the village exist, until a man — who Muichiro assumed was in his mid-twenties, came up from behind and stopped him. This man wasn't a stranger, Muichiro has sold plenty of wood for him before. Muichiro looked up at him, a curious expression on his face.

"You shouldn't be out this late kid, there are man eating demons roaming at this time of night." The man said, concerned about the child Infront of him. "Come stay at my house until the sun rises again."

Muichiro was fully aware of the man eating creatures wandering though the night, however-

"I have someone waiting for me back home."

"They will be fine." The man insisted. "If you want to go back to them in one piece, then wait until sunrise."

Muichiro sighed. The man was right, he couldn't let you suffer the pain of losing someone again. He had to come back to you safely, even if it meant to worry you for the whole day.

"Alright," Muichiro declared. "But I'm leaving early in the morning."

"Do whatever you want, kid. Just make sure the sun is up."

After that, they went to the man's home. He was kind of to give Muichiro a meal before bed, though he felt bad about eating it without you. While he had a feast with udon, you had to survive off of plain white rice for today. He made a silent promise to get you delicious food when he gets back.

After that, Muichiro went to lay down in the futon the man set up for him. His thoughts of you were almost drowning him.Are you crying? Are you vomiting? Are you going outside looking for him? Will you be able to sleep? His questions won't be answered until tomorrow morning. He engraved it in his mind to wake up as soon as possible, and to get good sleep so his way back won't be exhausting.

The next morning, he woke up so early that the man who took him in wasn't even awake yet. The whole village seemed to still be asleep, actually. Except for the shopkeepers who were getting ready to open their stores. It was cloudy, but there was light. And that was enough for him.

Muichiro quickly, but quietly as to not wake the man up, put on his boots and jacket to immediately get back to you.

"...Thank you." He whispered to the man; who was still sleeping, before going out.

Fortunately for him, the snow did slightly melt, now only reaching to his ankles. He ran home to you, beyond worried. He wanted to show you that he's safe, that he's okay, how much wood he managed to sell. He started to see his house from a distance. The closer he got the more excited he was to tell you, to make you warm delicious food.

Until, he got close enough. That's when he realized the door was open.

Something is wrong, the door shouldn't be open. He stopped running, fear creeping through every inch of his body. Has something happen to you? He walked towards the open house; the distance not being too far.

"Y/n?" He stuttered. Clutching onto the bag of groceries before entering the building.

His eyes widened at the site before him. Immediately dropping the bag, everything spilling on the floor. Your lifeless body laid out on the floor. You were severely wounded; deep cuts all over your body. Chunks of flesh on your arm looked like they were bitten off, like someone was eating you. Your empty eyes were staring at him, the scene reminded him of his brother. There were maggots coming to eat your flesh on your body. It was a disturbing site, an image that will forever haunt him.

Muichiro couldn't scream, no matter what he couldn't let anything out. He was completely frozen, just staring at your body. Until, he saw a slow rise of your chest.

"...!!! she's breathing!"

he quickly went to your side, sitting you up then wrapping your arms around his shoulders and putting his hands below your knees to be able to pick you up on his back.

"Stay with me, please. I'm sorry."

Your body was cold, so cold that when your hand touched his it made him shiver.

"Will I even be able to get them to a hospital at this state?" He asked himself, but he couldn't lose hope. He had no time to cry, he needed you to get medical attention asap.

Your blood smeared on him as he jogged through, the forest towards the village. towards the village, the cloudy weather and the big trees shading you both.

"I love you, I'm sorry." He sobbed out, finally saying the phrase he had refused to say. But why, did he have to say it when you couldn't hear him? When you were in brink of death? "Why, why did this happen? You took my older brother, please don't take Y/n too." he kept muttering out apologized, till he got interrupted.

Muichiro felt you moving behind him.

"Y/n?"

One of your legs kicked his back, causing him to fall onto the ground with a grunt and releasing his hold on you. The cold snow was stinging his face, he quickly sat up and looked at you. There was a fair distance between you both.

Your injuries were healed, and limbs spread apart; You were standing in a position like you wanted to attack him. You were breathing heavily, and he could see your sharp fangs. You glared at him, but didn't dare to move.

Muichiro stood up, and your eyes followed his every move. He couldn't believe what he was seeing... He slowly reached his arm out to you, tears threatening to falling from his eyes.

"Y/n.." He choked out. He felt like he was suffocating, like his head was held down underwater. The harsh winter air stinging his lungs everytime he inhales. He couldn't take it, his tears now rolling down his cheeks. You were a demon now, and he knew he had to do something. But he didn't want to hurt you. He couldn't hurt you.

Seeing Muichiro's pained face lit a fire in your heart. Even in your demon state, it hurt you to see him like this. Your face softens, and so does your porsture as you begin to tear up. He slowly walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you. That's when you started to cry. You rested your head on his shoulder and sobbed, you were scared, you didn't know what to do. You turned into a demon; does that mean you have to die now? You were too scared to say anything, so you just let it out on his shoulder

"I'm sorry, I love you." He told you inbetween his shaky breaths, not missing the chance to tell you this when you were awake, when you could hear him say the words you've always been anticipating.

Neither of you noticed the presence behind you.

It was Lady Amane, the woman who used to visit the Tokito twins during summer. She came to try recruiting both again, unknowingly to her that one of the twins is dead. On her way here, she saw Muichiro carrying you and witnessed the entire scene unfold in the forest. She determined that despite being a demon, you were different. You were hesistant to harm Muichiro, someone who you loved dearly. Other demons would've eaten anyone infront of them, but not you. She approached both of you, willing to welcome you into the corps. And she hopes that one day, you will be able find your humanity again.

Do not repost

A/N: Not my best work aha,, I don't like this one.

#muichiro x y/n #kimetsu muichiro #muichiro x reader #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro tokito #kny muichiro #muichiro x you #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader

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deakyjoe · 1 year

Text

The Liquor On Your Lips

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (no pronouns but “pretty” is used to describe reader)

Category: age gap, dark(ish)

Summary: You’re a vice too good to resist.

Warnings: age gap (unspecified but legal), dark(ish), possessive Joel, jealous Joel, Joel’s just kind of… scary (??), but not, kissing

Word count: 900ish (short, sorry)

A/N: My thing for older men really pops out in this one. Title comes from You Can Be the Boss by Lana Del Rey. Also, this is kind of shit. I’m sorry. As usual, I imagined Pedro Pascal’s Joel when writing this but please feel free to envision Joel from the game!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The day you arrived in Jackson, Joel knew he was fucked. So utterly and completely fucked.

He hadn't noticed you immediately but once you'd interacted properly for the first time he knew he was screwed for the rest of eternity.

You'd just asked him about something and sent him an innocent smile, clearly not knowing that he really wasn't the person to be asking questions, and Joel felt his stomach twist.

You were young but so, so sweet, and Joel knew he should have kept his distance. In the normal world, twenty years prior, he wouldn't have looked twice at you. But it had been a long, lonely two decades and he'd lost his ability to resist the simplest of vices a while ago.

He ignored the fact that you were closer in age to Ellie than him, ignored the fact that you'd be younger than Sarah if she were still alive. He didn't care. He didn't have time to care anymore.

So, yeah. He was fucked.

It definitely didn't help that Joel never missed the fleeting glances you sent him, enjoying the way you always looked away in embarrassment when he caught you. He knew you liked him too, probably spurred on by the age difference. That only motivated him more. He wanted- no, needed to have you.

He was older and the silent, stoic type. It was alluring. And despite every warning bell in your head telling you he wouldn't be interested so it wouldn't even be worth trying, you couldn't help but attempt to get closer to him.

Joel was everything your head could possibly ever conjure up, mixed together into one man. Since moving to Jackson you'd only had your eyes set on one thing. Him. He didn't seem real at first and you'd considered that maybe you'd died at some point and this was your brain's final effort at giving you some inner peace and happiness before your demise.

But no. He was real.

And just out of reach.

Joel burned with anger when you started avoiding him, paying more attention to the guys closer to your age in the community. He wasn't jealous, he knew he didn't need to be as you clearly weren't actually interested in them, but he was angry that you appeared to be giving up on him. His possessive streak started to take a hold on him. Despite not actually having you, no claim on you whatsoever, he felt as if you were his. And his only. It was unspoken.

So he decided to show you.

He found you one day, in a storage locker for building equipment at the edge of the community, searching for something.

You jumped when you saw him, quickly relaxing when you realised who it was.

“Joel, you scared me.” You sighed and went back to looking.

“What do you need?” His voice was low, gruff. And like melted chocolate to your ears.

“Wood.” You called over your shoulder, not paying much attention to how you were bent over in front of him and he was taking full advantage of the opportunity to stare at you.

A quick glance around confirmed what he was already thinking. “You’re surrounded by wood.”

“Need specific piece.” You replied and huffed, not finding what you wanted and giving up. “I’ll look elsewhere. Why’re you here?”

He watched you with a careful gaze, gauging your reaction to his presence. Your breathing was heavy, but could’ve been explained by your vigorous searching, and your pupils were dilated, however it was dark in the room. Joel decided to throw out logical arguments and put the blame on him being there. He liked that explanation a lot more.

He walked towards you slowly. “Came looking for you.”

You blinked in surprise. “Really?”

He only nodded, stopping just a pace away from you.

“Why?” You squeaked, averting your eyes to the floor between you.

“You know why.” He stated and there was no protest from you.

His hand reached up to curl around your jaw and chin, tilting your head up to face him better. You were so… pretty. Especially up close and he felt himself get a little bit more screwed when you let out a soft noise, almost a whimper.

And you didn’t resist when he leaned in to kiss you. In fact, as expected, you invited him in and pushed up to meet him halfway, letting out a sigh of relief when your lips finally met. When he squeezed his fingers against your cheek, you opened up for him with a gasp and allowed him to lap his tongue into your mouth.

"Taste as sweet as I expected." He growled into you, grip around your chin tightening.

You didn’t reply, just let him kiss you again and curled your fists into the front of his shirt. This was finally happening. Joel was kissing you. You! And it was wonderful. He tasted faintly of alcohol and something inherently… Joel. And you never wanted to stop tasting.

All Joel could think about was how fucking sweet you tasted and the way you gripped onto him like you never wanted to let go. Because you didn’t. And neither did he. He was so fucked.

A/N: Available and willing to be Joel’s nineteen year old girlfriend. Goodnight.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #ej’s fics #ej’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing

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slaymitchabernathy · 1 month

Text

Rats in the Lab

“How many?” He asks, holding up four fingers.

He can see her thinking, trying so hard to come up with an answer. Her bottom lip begins to quiver and her eyes begin to well up with tears.

“I…I don’t know,” she whispers, hanging her head in shame.

Coriolanus sighs. He knows he has to be patient if he wants to see results. It’s not his fault she’s so dumb. But boy is she sweet. That’s what gets him every time.

“Try,” he says, reaching into his pocket with his other hand and pulling out a small bag of crackers. Soarynn’s eyes zero in on the bags, her bony fingers wrap around the iron bars that separate them and grip them a little tighter. It’s like they’re at the zoo and he’s feeding her.

She looks up at his fingers again, her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to count them. Any Capitol child past the age of five could tell you how many fingers he was holding up but Soarynn’s not from the Capitol.

She’s from District Twelve.

“Th…three?” She asks, some hopefulness in her tone.

Coriolanus shakes his head, “Four.”

“Is that close to three?”

“Not really.”

Three is of course, close to the number four, but Coriolanus isn’t going to be the one to tell her that. He likes keeping her dumb, keeping her here, in Dr. Gaul’s lab.

At first, he thought it was a stupid idea what Gaul had pitched to him, taking twenty-four children at random from the Districts to study them. As if they didn’t already have the Hunger Games. And that caused enough riot as it is. But this was different. Gaul enlisted Peacekeepers to take the children quietly and without notice. They took the orphans, the most starving, the most desperate.

No one would miss them.

Then Dr. Gaul began her tests on them. She jokingly called them her “lab rats” since she felt that mice were a step above rats. But she also felt that rats could be extremely clever if they wanted to be, if they had the right motivation. Most of them died though. Coriolanus watched as all those children failed to pass her tests, slowly withering away in their cages while doing so.

Soarynn was the only one left.

Which surprised Coriolanus because she was a little runt girl from Twelve. He hadn’t been placing any bets on her. But she was smart, well, smarter than her counterparts. He hadn’t told her about them, their deaths. Dr. Gaul felt Soarynn would be more cooperative if she thought everyone else was still alive.

Once the children started dwindling down she assigned Soarynn to Coriolanus. “She’ll be your first subject,” she’d told him excitedly, “you can test her, learn about her, the more she trusts you the more willing she’ll be to conduct the experiments.”

At first, he’d felt a certain aversion towards Soarynn. Some filthy girl from Twelve didn’t deserve his attention. But then one night when he was cleaning lab equipment, he heard her sing.

His little songbird.

She had a beautiful voice and from that point on he spent an awful lot of time at her cage.

“You have some more tests this evening,” he says, glancing down at the clipboard he placed on the floor, “maybe you can get some food if you do well on them.” He ignores her pitiful look as he slips the crackers back into his pocket.

“Coriolanus?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’s Jessup?”

Jessup had been the boy from Twelve, the boy Soarynn came here with. He died two weeks ago.

Coriolanus pushes himself from the ground, looking down at her, “He’s in another room. I told you that before remember?”

Soarynn frowns and looks down at the dirty ground beneath her, “No I…I don’t remember you telling me that. I’m sorry.”

Coriolanus nods, “Well it’d be best you not forget in the future.”

He walks away from her cage, listening to the sound of her chain scraping across the floor. Every child they’d taken was given the same standard cage built into the wall of Dr. Gaul’s lab. It was small, low to the ground and it had a long iron chain that wrapped around one of their ankles. Dr. Gaul had mentioned maybe using collars but nothing has been done about it yet.

Coriolanus looks down at his clipboard while walking further into the lab, mostly to ignore the stares of the mad scientist's other experiments. Mutilated people, Avoxes, mutts.

Sometimes he wished she didn’t like him so much.

Gaul had given Coriolanus a wonderful opportunity once he graduated from the Academy. She ensured he won the Plinth Prize and she decided that he would work and study under her as an intern for a Game Maker. It’s too bad the woman’s a lunatic because he’s sure she’d give him some great advice.

He can hear her cackle as he nears her part of the lab and can see her zapping little mice with a laser of some sort, “There you are Coriolanus, how is your little songbird?” Coriolanus has done his best to put up a facade of indifference when it comes to Soarynn. She’s not his responsibility outside of this lab and yet he keeps coming back more and more. More than usual, more than he’s asked.

More than he should.

He clears his throat, “She’s hungry.”

Dr. Gaul waves him off, “She’ll get her chance to eat later. We’re putting her in the maze,” she says, throwing him a knowing look. The maze is quite literally a giant maze that’s been constructed below the Citadel. Every child has run through it at least once but the time it’s taken them to get through it has been disappointing. At least to Dr. Gaul.

Soarynn however has done quite well so far and for her sake, Coriolanus hopes she does well tonight. She’s still so skinny, so frail and while he has rules to follow, he can’t help but want to slip her some food every once in a while.

Want to take her with him to his apartment, bathe her, clothe her, hold her. She’d be his little songbird, safe from Dr. Gaul’s clutches and within his grasp at all times. He hates how he never knows what he’ll find when he comes into the lab, never knows if her cage will one day be empty.

“Hand me that other cage of mice,” she says, holding out her hand. Coriolanus grabs the cage, giving the mice a somewhat remorseful look before handing them off to Dr. Gaul. She smiles at him which still to this day unnerves him. Coriolanus has to remind himself that for the most part, Dr. Gaul is on his side. She vouched for him when it came to winning the Plinth Prize even though he cheated in the contest to win it. She stopped Dean Casca Highbottom from sending him to the Districts to serve as a Peacekeeper after he was found out for cheating. And she turned a blind eye when the Dean suddenly passed away unexplainably.

“Coriolanus is in a daze because his girls going into my maze.”

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus shoves his hands into his lab coat pockets while he walks with the other Game Makers and assistants to the maze. His head is down while they all talk among themselves about the last time Soarynn ran the maze, what her results were.

Coriolanus veers left where the exit to the maze is but stops when no one follows him, “Oh we changed the layout,” one of them says, beckoning him to follow them, “we thought she might have memorized the layout so we moved it around. Never let them know our next step.” This Game Maker says it with a smile and Coriolanus forces one onto his own face while following them, “How clever,” he remarks.

And it is clever. But it’s also not good for Soarynn. If she doesn’t perform well then she won’t eat and as much as he hates to admit it, she’s getting smaller and weaker by the day.

Coriolanus stops with the group at the new exit, a set of screens attached to the wall where they can see a live feed from inside the maze. Coriolanus watches as two Peacekeepers carry in a cage, dumping Soarynn onto the floor. She looks frightened but she always does when she’s in the maze. He would be scared too.

Dr. Gaul’s footsteps alert Coriolanus and he looks up to see the woman wearing her signature evil grin, “Let the games begin,” she trills, walking over to the small console under the screens. She presses one of the buttons, and her voice is booming through the entire building.

“Good luck little girl.”

Soarynn shakily pushes herself to her feet, staring up at the nearest camera. Coriolanus can see how dirty she is, how tired and hungry. She looks into the camera with a bit of defiance though, the smallest amount she can muster before she sets off into the maze. Coriolanus can’t take his eyes off the screen when Soarynn comes to the first turn.

Left or right.

He holds his breath because the maze hasn’t always been this way. She used to go straight for a good twenty yards before having to make a turn. Before Dr. Gaul decided to mess everything up. Soarynn stops, looking left and then right before taking a step back.

She knows. Knows it’s different.

Soarynn looks over her shoulder and up at the camera, her eyes almost pleading with whoever’s watching. Dr. Gaul chuckles, “Run little rat, run.”

Soarynn chooses to go left and makes her way down the narrow passageway, her hand dragging along the wall. She’s going to slow, Coriolanus thinks. It’s not her fault, but she used to be able to sprint through the other maze.

He tears his eyes from the screen to watch Dr. Gaul press another button and he can suddenly see the same Peacekeepers wheeling in a large-looking tank. His breath catches in his throat and he watches as they tip over the tank, a rainbow of snakes falling into the ground and slithering into the maze.

“Dr. Gaul,” he starts but she holds her hand up, her eyes on the screens, “Don’t waste your breath Coriolanus, she either finds her way out or she dies. I’ve collected all the data I need either way.”

He can feel his fists curling and his jaw clenching but he says nothing as they all watch the snakes slither into the maze, searching for Soarynn.

She’s making good headway, almost halfway through when she hears the snakes. She stops in her tracks, listening to the hisses. Soarynn frantically looks around when she sees the first snake rounding the corner, both of them locking eyes on one another.

"Run," Coriolanus whispers.

Soarynn sprints in the opposite direction of the snakes, rounding corners with no way of knowing where they'll lead. Coriolanus can feel his heart pounding and all the while Dr. Gaul and her assistants are writing down notes. Soarynn comes to another set of delivered passageways and takes a left, the snakes closing in behind her.

It's a dead end.

Coriolanus swears under his breath. She's dead, as good as dead. She's trembling as she backs herself into the wall, her tattered white hospital gown nearly falling off her shoulders, tears streaming down her dirty face. She looks up at the camera watching her, desperation in her eyes. It's like she's pleading for Coriolanus to come save her.

But he can't.

He can feel a few of the Game Makers watching him along with Gaul's assistants. It's no secret that he's gotten a little closer to Soarynn, spent more time with her. But she's just a girl from Twelve.

He tries to look away but he can't, watching the snakes slowly slither towards her. Soarynn lets out a shaky breath and slides down the wall, pulling her knees to her chest, already giving up.

Dr. Gaul shakes her head, "Well that was the last one, let's go." She snaps her fingers and they all begin to follow her, Coriolanus lingering at the back of the group, looking at the screens one last time.

He waits for the scream. But he never hears one. He hears singing.

You're headed for heaven, The sweet old hereafter And I've got one foot in the door But before I can fly up, I've loose ends to tie up Right here in the old therebefore

Coriolanus stumbles back towards the maze, absolutely enchanted by her singing and it seems the snakes are too. Their movements have become rhythmic as if dancing along to Soarynn's song. She keeps singing, singing for her life. She'd told him that her mother used to sing her songs when she was little before she died. This must be one of them.

He can hear the others coming back, all watching as Soarynn continues to sing, and the snakes linger from attacking her.

"Why aren't they attacking her?" One of them asks.

Coriolanus shakes his head, "It's her singing, it must be calming them."

He's sure Dr. Gaul is furious but you've got to give credit where credit's due and Soarynn is still singing, still alive. And she knows she's winning this game. The snakes finally reach her and Coriolanus prepares for them to lunge, to sink their fangs into her skin but they don't. They wrap themselves around her, creating almost a rainbow dress. Coriolanus holds his breath though, she's not safe until she's out of the maze. What had she said to him one day?

'It's not over until the Mockingjay sings.'

Well, she's certainly a little songbird now.

The snakes are wrapping around her arms now, slithering all around her and she looks up into the camera, her fear replaced with anger.

When I'm pure like a dove When I've learned how to love Right here In the old therebefore When nothing is left anymore

Soarynn continues humming her sweet tune as she slowly stands to her feet, careful so as to not disturb the snakes. She makes her way through the maze, taking her time like the way she was before, not making any efforts to remove the reptiles that have made themselves at home wrapped around her small frame.

Coriolanus and the rest of the group watch in disbelief as she finally makes one last turn and walks out of the maze towards them. He can see her chin trembling while she hums, her eyes meet his eyes and they're frantic, she's scared. But she's holding herself together tremendously well.

Soarynn stops a good five feet away from them, weary of the Peacekeepers who are also watching in awe. "I played your game," Soarynn says to Dr. Gaul, her eyes now boring into the scientist, "get them off of me."

Coriolanus looks over his shoulder to see Dr. Gaul watching the snakes, a frown on her lips. "Dr. Gaul," he says, pulling her from her thoughts, "she won. She got out of the maze she won."

Gaul purses her lips before nodding, "So she did. It seems the lab rat has become a songbird." She snaps her fingers and the snakes fall onto the floor causing several people to gasp and back up as they begin to slither towards Dr. Gaul. She allows them to wrap around her the way they did Soarynn and gently holds one in her hand, "You've impressed me, little girl," she says, nodding at Soarynn. She then turns to Coriolanus, fixing her creepy stare on him, "And that shall be rewarded."

Coriolanus suddenly feels very nervous about how exactly Dr. Gaul plans to reward Soarynn. She could throw him in a cage, let Soarynn be in charge of his well-being. He is after all her captor in one way or the other.

"You'll go home with Mr. Snow for the night, enjoy a nice warm bed and bath before you come back tomorrow for more tests."

Coriolanus feels his heart racing at the prospect of bringing Soarynn home with him, having her in his bed. Soarynn gives Gaul a shaky nod, her legs trembling as the mad woman walks back into her lab, her assistant in tow.

Coriolanus cards his fingers through his hair and takes a few steps toward Soarynn's trembling frame. He hasn't been around her much when she's been outside of the cage, not that this runt girl poses much of a threat to him. He could easily overpower her if need be.

"You did good," he says, giving her a nod of approval. Tears spill from Soarynn's face and she stumbles towards him, holding her hands out and Coriolanus finds himself grabbing them, engulfing her in his strong hold. Soarynn sobs into his chest, probably staining his pristine white shirt but that's alright, he can buy a new one. Her on the other hand, well, all she's wearing is the tattered white gown along with some underwear and he's sure they're in the same condition as her dress.

Coriolanus lets her cry it all out. It's been a rough month for her in the Capitol. Not even he can deny that. "It's okay Soarynn," he whispers, his hand coming up to hold the back of her head, "you did good, and now you get to come home with me. Doesn't that sound like a nice reward?" He knows he'll probably go to hell for this, aiding in the kidnapping of this poor girl and then taking her home with him as a means of rewarding her. Since when has a good night's sleep counted as a reward?

Sobs rack her entire body and her hands clutch onto his thick red coat, treating him as if he were a lifeline. "I...I thought I was gonna die," she choked out, looking up at him. He can't help but feel his heart break just a little for her. She's so young, so fragile. Her file gave him the bare minimum about her background but he knows she's sixteen. He gently brushes some hair out from her face, "But you didn't. So let's go home and take a nice bath hmm?"

Soarynn nods, wiping her face with the back of her hand, "Okay," she whispers, her body sagging with exhaustion.

She lets him lead her through the lab, it's dark by now, making it seem even scarier than usual. He feels Soarynn curl further into him when they pass a tank with an Avox in it, gills grafted into their skin. "It's scary in here," she murmurs. Coriolanus nods, one of his arms still wrapped around Soarynn, mostly to keep her standing. But a small part of him also enjoyed finally being able to touch her without iron bars standing between them.

They reach the elevator and he even lets her press the button, something that clearly fascinated Soarynn. He was beginning to grow a bit impatient waiting for it to arrive and jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It was Dr. Gaul.

It seems that she was able to calm down from Soarynn upstaging her but you could never be too sure with Dr. Gaul. He expected some great big riddle but she simply leaned in and whispers, "She's a most impressive specimen, even if she's from the Districts. Tonight I'd like you to procreate with her, have intercourse, for research purposes of course. Offspring could be very valuable assets for us."

Coriolanus slightly pales but nods, "Of course Dr. Gaul."

꧁ ꧂

It's dark in his penthouse. Coriolanus thought he'd get home much earlier but today has certainly been a strange one.

Soarynn clings onto him as they walk further into his home, to his bedroom. Coriolanus can't help but feel a little inconvenienced by all of this, saddling him with the responsibility of Soarynn and her well-being. Suppose she suddenly fell ill and died in the middle of the night? He didn't want to be responsible for that and the repercussions that would follow suit.

"This is your house?" Soarynn's question pulls him from his nagging thoughts and he looks down at the small girl who's looking up at him with amazement. He nods, "It's my family's penthouse," he tells her proudly, pushing open the doors to his bedroom.

His bedroom is the largest one and is furnished with taste thanks to the Plinth Prize. His eyes land on the bed and the thought of sleeping with Soarynn, impregnating Soarynn makes his stomach twist. She's a virgin, she has to be. He finds her looking around in amazement, much to how she's looked at everything they walked by to get back home. He hadn't thought of the fact that Soarynn was most likely brought here in some sort of crate and not given a proper tour of the Capitol. Everything was so new to her.

"Let's get you in a warm bath," he suggests, nodding towards his bathroom.

It's a bit uncomfortable for both of them, getting her undressed and into the tub but they manage it. Soarynn is filthy. Covered in dirt, sweat, tears, and who knows what else. Coriolanus does his best to be gentle when washing her body, averting his eyes when faced with her bony spine sticking out. He can count every one of her ribs. Soarynn looks almost like a small child sitting in his tub, looking up at him with those blue-gray eyes, so trusting.

Coriolanus frowns when realizing that he's entirely underprepared. He doesn't have any shampoo or other products for her to use besides his own. But she wouldn't know the difference. "Close your eyes," he says, scooping up some water. Soarynn does as she's told and it stirs something inside of him. Something primal. He's quick to wash her face, revealing freckles he's never seen before. Soarynn squints up at him once he's done, "Can I have something to eat?"

The poor thing must be starving.

"After your bath," he answers while grabbing the shampoo.

Soarynn falls asleep while he cleans her hair, her chin resting on her knees. Has she ever had a warm bath before? Had her hair washed? Coriolanus wonders what it would be like to always wash her hair, draw her baths for her. Dr. Gaul would never allow it though. A District girl running around the Capitol is the last thing she'd want from this experiment. And besides, Coriolanus has to focus on his studies at the University. "Let's get you all dried up," he says, grabbing a towel.

Soarynn allows him to dry her off but becomes shy when he pulls the towel away, baring her naked body to him. He might as well get used to it considering what Dr. Gaul wants him to do to her tonight. Her skin is tan, her legs thin but long, her collar bones poke out and her face is slightly sunken in. But she looks pretty.

"How old are you?" She asks, tilting her head.

Coriolanus has always kept his life private from Soarynn and her questions. Over the past month she'd told him things about her and her life but he rarely ever opened up about his. "I'll be twenty in November," he says, smirking when she blushes. He might as well give her some of his clothes too so he heads to the closet, not surprised when he hears her clamber out of the tub and follow him. Since winning the Plinth Prize Coriolanus had been able to revamp his entire wardrobe.

"You have so many clothes," she says in awe, spinning around the closet. Coriolanus chuckles and grabs a white button-up from the rack, "None of them will fit you but this should do for tonight." He holds out the shirt and Soarynn gingerly takes it from him, bringing it up to her nose and smelling it. Coriolanus quirks his eyebrows at the strange sight and she giggles, "It smells like roses, just like you," she explains.

Well, he had been told that he smelled like roses before, but to hear it from her somehow meant more for some reason. He watches as she slips on the shirt but she fumbles with the buttons and he can't stop himself from helping her, from doing the rest. Soarynn looks up at him while he buttons his shirt and he does his best to avert his eyes but he can't. Not when she's finally right in front of him, touching him.

His fingers slightly shake as he does the last button and he clears his throat, "Let's get you something to eat."

꧁ ꧂

She gorges herself. Coriolanus almost wants to ask her to slow down but he knows he shouldn't. Not when neither of them knows when she'll eat again. The whole situation feels a bit cruel, letting her experience all of this just to throw her back into that cage. Her left ankle has a horrible cut on it from how tight the shackle around it was. He wrapped it with gauze after cleaning it, but it felt pointless in the grand scheme of things.

"I want that," Soarynn points to the bowl filled with ice cream. He'd brought out practically everything he had in the fridge, figuring it was now or never for her. She's also sitting on his lap, he insisted on it. And she's so small, so warm and she smells good now that she's had a bath. His hands gently press into her sides, "I think you have better manners than that," he says.

Soarynn sighs, kicking her feet in the air for a moment, "Can I please have that?" He doesn't know why he's trying to teach her good manners, it won't really matter since she'll die in that cage sooner or later. But if they do have a child, he wants it to have the best manners possible, and that has to start with Soarynn.

He hums and reaches across the table, grabbing the bowl of ice cream, "You certainly may."

He watches with a small smile on his face as she eats her ice cream, she'll probably be sick in the morning from how much she's eating tonight. She might be sick from what he's about to do to her tonight.

Coriolanus slowly slips a hand under the shirt, feeling her soft skin. Soarynn pays him no mind as she keeps eating, like an animal at the zoo that he feeds every day.

"Soarynn?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever....have you ever been touched before?"

Soarynn stops eating and looks at him over her shoulder, "Aren't you touching me right now?" Oh, she's so sweet and innocent. Coriolanus shakes his head, "No, I...I meant it in a different way. I'll show you once you're done eating okay." Soarynn just shrugs, "Okay I trust you Coriolanus."

꧁ ꧂

"It hurts," she cries, her hands trying to break free from his belt.

Coriolanus presses a kiss to her neck, "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay Soarynn, we have to do this, Dr. Gaul said so."

Soarynn's cunt is so fucking tight he can barely fit but he does. She feels so good, so warm. It had taken far too long to get her like this, tied up and spread out for him. At first, she liked it, touching him, kissing him, but then she didn't. She got scared. Coriolanus couldn't have that, couldn't fail Dr. Gaul. He had a job to do.

Soarynn sobs as he finally bottoms out, "She's a terrible person, she...she's hurting my friend Jessup." She lets out a whimper as Coriolanus begins to slowly thrust in and out, feeling her walls wrap around him. His eyes slightly widen when remembering Jessup and how he died, too much voltage, his heart stopped so fast.

"Jessup is dead babydoll," he grunts, picking up the pace.

Soarynn gasps and it's not from the pleasure. Her eyes fill up with tears, "What...I...no you, you told me he was alive." She squeezes him so tight when she cries, to the point where he wants her to cry. Coriolanus wraps his hand around her small throat, applying pressure, watching as her eyes widen, "You see Soarynn, Jessup was never going to survive. None of those kids survived. You're the last one angel, the lone Victor and this is how you're being rewarded so you better put on a smile and be fucking grateful." His once somewhat kind persona slips away into nothingness as he thrusts into her cunt hard, his tip pushing against her sweet spot.

Soarynn's still crying but he ignores her and focuses on that sweet cunt of hers, watching as it takes him again, and again, and again. She looks so perfect like this, so small and helpless under him, completely at his mercy. Coriolanus smirks when he sees her stomach bulging, not surprising considering how skinny she is.

"Look at that," he drawls, "fucking you so deep huh? Can't believe District cunt feels this good, it's a shame you had to stay in that cage for so long but don't worry baby, you're in for a long night."

Soarynn's tears have dried up and she's settled for simply looking away, looking up at the ceiling as he fucks into her, trying to block all of it out. But Coriolanus isn't having that. No. After all, he's done for her, fed her, taught her, he practically got her out of that maze. He lets go of her neck and reaches for her clit, pleased when she seizes up at the stimulation. "You like that?" He taunts, hitting her sweet spot faster and faster, Soarynn's eyes start to roll back, the pleasure finally taking over.

"Maybe I can cut a deal with Dr. Gaul, have you live here with me, keep you on my cock all the time. Bet you'd like that huh? And if you misbehave I can always put you back in that cage. You like being my little fuckdoll don't you Soarynn?"

All that leaves Soarynn's mouth are little moans, gasps really, sounds that he's forcibly fucking out of her. He watches her eyes roll back, her cunt tightening around his cock, making it harder to fuck her at a fast pace so he slows down. "Answer me," he grits out, his other hand grabbing a handful of her hair, and shaking her head around like she's a doll. "Yes!" She cries out, squeezing her eyes shut, "I love it!"

Coriolanus scoffs, she's being so ungrateful, acting like she isn't lucky to be getting fucked by him. But he'll make her see, make her grateful. He's determined to see her cum and goes right back to rubbing her clit, grinning as she begins to squirm and moan, her breaths growing rapid, "Oh please," she gasps, her back bending off the mattress. "Cum Soarynn," he says, "be my good little fuckdoll and cum." Soarynn's moans are a sweet symphony as she cums all over him, triggering his own orgasm. Coriolanus grunts as he fills her cunt, fulfills his task. He slows down, giving himself a second to catch his breath while looking at Soarynn and her blissed-out state. She almost looks as if she's in shock, just lying there.

Coriolanus slowly pulls out and grounds when he sees her puffy cunt filled with his cum. It satisfies a deep-rooted urge inside of him and he smirks, she's never looked better. Of course, he needs to ensure she gets pregnant tonight, so he's more than willing to go a few more rounds.

His little songbird won't mind.

꧁ ꧂

"It's a boy."

Those words echo through his head as he walks through the lab, giving people a polite nod as he passes by them. He's on his way to deliver the news to her, to Soarynn.

She's sitting on her bed when he walks in. Her stomach round with his child. She looks a little tired but also relieved to see him. He gives her a small smile before taking a seat next to her on the twin-sized bed, "How're you feeling?" He asks, reaching out and placing a hand on her swollen stomach. Soarynn shrugs, "My back hurts. Can I get medicine for that?" Coriolanus chews the inside of his lip, Dr. Gaul has been very strict about what Soarynn puts into her body including medication. She wants this to be a natural birth at all costs.

"I'll have to ask," he says, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. Soarynn gives him a small smile in return but he can tell her heart isn't in it. She probably just wants to know the results. "It's going to be a boy," he tells her, carefully watching her face for a reaction. Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks around her small room.

Once she got pregnant, Dr. Gaul let Coriolanus talk her into giving Soarynn a small room within the lab where she could still be monitored and studied. He mainly pushed for it because he couldn't have a child of his living in a dirty cage, even if they weren't born yet. Soarynn's room was the size of a large closet at best. There was a twin bed in the corner, a desk with a chair, and a plastic mirror. Gaul insisted that her room be baby-proofed so she couldn't try to kill herself in the middle of the night.

Coriolanus knew she wouldn't. As much as she despised all of them she loved her child. Her room was covered in drawings she'd made. Coriolanus had given her a sketchbook and a box of crayons for her birthday, a most precious gift to her. He knew she still resented him, for everything he'd done to her. But he was her lifeline right now, her advocate, so she was nice, she behaved.

"Are you happy?" He asks, nervously shifting on the bed.

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears and looks up at him, fear and uncertainty in her eyes, "Are you happy?"

Coriolanus frowns, it's not really important if he's happy. This is all for the sake of the experiment, to create an highly intelligent child, both emotionally and intellectually. But for the sake of her health and the baby's, he nods, "Yes. I'm very happy Soarynn, I'm very pleased with you and your progress." He leans in and places a kiss on her cheek and she smiles, "Okay. Okay, I'm happy too Coriolanus."

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus paces outside the room, the room where Soarynn is lying on a hospital bed giving birth.

He wasn't allowed inside, he didn't think he wanted to be in there if he was being honest. Not when he could hear Soarynn's screams. She was in pain. She was scared. She was so young. Too young. He realized that too late it seemed though. But he planned to take her away from this place once their son was born, take care of her, maybe even love her.

He could hear her screaming for help, for it to stop, for him to come help her. He could hear Dr. Gaul instructing her to push.

Then it all went silent.

Then he heard it, the sound of a baby crying. His son.

It was only a minute later that Dr. Gaul was walking out with his son in her arms, wrapped up in a blanket. Coriolanus smiled down at the child who looked just like him, with blonde hair and he was sure blue eyes too. "He's perfect," he whispers, "oh it's perfect. I should see Soarynn now."

Dr. Gaul says nothing as he walks into the room where her assistants are already cleaning up and he stops in his tracks when he sees it.

Sees her. Dead. A once beautiful Soarynn now dead on the hospital bed. Blood covering her. It's soaked through her hospital gown, into the sheets, down to the floor. Her eyes are wide in fear, tears on her cheeks.

Coriolanus has to stop himself from throwing up as he stumbles out of the room and back into the lab where Gaul is bouncing the newborn up and down gently, cooing and smiling.

"What...what happened to Soarynn?" He chokes out, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, with grief for that sweet little girl from Twelve who couldn't count four fingers.

Dr. Gaul shrugs, "The birth was taking too long and we couldn't afford complications so I chose to perform an emergency cesarean section. The mother's life was of no concern once we got to the child safely."

Coriolanus stares blankly at the newborn, "You killed her."

Dr. Gaul chuckles and smiles down at his son who will grow up without a mother and she shakes her head, chuckling.

"Lab rats die all the time Coriolanus."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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frankencanon · 7 months

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I think it'd be funny if we made Kakashi even younger.

Can you imagine Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura finding out that Kakashi is only a handful of years older than them?!

I mean, with how little we see of his face it's extremely difficult to tell how old he is...

It was one thing when he was prepubescent and short with an unbroken voice, but once his voice dropped and he reached an average adult height... How would anyone be able to tell?

He's strong, highly ranked, mature for his age, and the proper height for an adult with an adult voice. Anyone who didn't already know his age would be liable to mistakenly assume he's older than he actually is, especially with the grey hair.

And it's not like it's out of the realm of possibility for a teenager to be a jounin sensei—take Minato, for example. He was, what, seventeen? And as talented as Minato was, he's nothing compared to Kakashi when it comes to rising through the ranks at a young age.

I'm pretty sure Kakashi broke literally every record there was when it came to "youngest ever [blank]". Academy student, genin, chūnin, jōnin, ANBU, ANBU Captain... Sure, Itachi eventually beat him in one or two of those, but at the time Kakashi was the sole record-holder; There'd never been anyone like him before.

If we just modify Kakashi's already contradictory timeline... Unimportant info below about the details for just how this could potentially work in canon!!

—WAIT. FORGET ALL THAT.

If you want to read my calculations as to how this could canonically work you may direct your attention below, however I have just come up with a far better and far simpler and also quite possibly both funnier and sadder idea:

Time-travel, but not in any way you're thinking...

Most people assume the reason why they didn't hear much of Kakashi's exploits over the years is because he was in ANBU and so everything was Top Secret and extremely covert...

But what if the real reason was because Kakashi had somehow been sent about a decade into the future? Hence explaining how he could be a teenager still when he was once the Yondaime's student.

Also possible: Kakashi was somehow held in stasis for the past decade—sealed, perhaps? Trapped? Or maybe the work of a foreign shinobi's jutsu (kekkei genkai?) that took about a decade or so to break/deactivate...

Or, my personal favorite:

He was investigating the Uzushiogakure ruins and got caught in one of their defensive seals — one that would seal him for a maximum of ten years, with the intention of giving Uzushio shinobi as much time as possible to deal with whatever intruder(s) got caught in the trap.

Without Kushina or Minato or any other Uzumaki seal experts however, deactivating the seal would be basically impossible — luckily, the seal was set up so that once time ran out Kakashi would be automatically released.

And he was! Ten years later, with little baby Naruto all grown up and almost ready to be placed on a genin team — his genin team.

—

AFFOREMENTIONED DUMB CALCULATIONS FOR HOW THIS COULD POTENTIALLY FIT INTO THE CANONICAL TIMELINE BELOW 👇

—

It's probably boring!! You don't have to read it!!

⚠️ You have been warned!! ⚠️

(It's mostly just me brainstorming, honestly...)

—

Genin at five, chūnin at six... Then he stalls at chūnin for a while before eventually advancing to jōnin at twelve (wherein Obito "dies").

He's approximately thirteen when Rin is killed leading to him joining ANBU, and then fourteen when Naruto is born and the Kyūbi is unleashed on the village, causing Minato and Kushina to sacrifice themselves.

In canon, he is then twenty-six years old when he becomes Team 7's jōnin sensei...

For starters, I vote we cut those six years of chūnin limbo before Kakashi becomes jōnin, dropping him to about twenty-or-so.

Then again, this is fanfic—who cares about canon timelines?

If we put him on the hyper-speed fast-track...

4: Academy student

5: Genin

6: Chūnin

7. Jōnin (Obito dies)

8. ANBU (Rin dies)

9. Naruto's birth (Minato & Kushina die)

Is this ridiculous? Yes! But who cares?

9+12=21

Hm... That's not right.

Alright, this is getting a bit annoyingly complicated.

Even if I downgrade Naruto to eleven (because for a long time I was convinced for some reason that Naruto was eleven while the rest of his peers were twelve, and I still have absolutely no clue where I got that idea from) that would still make Kakashi about twenty. Hm...

Ugh, I'll figure this out later. Can't we just hand-wave it?

—No wait, I have an idea:

While modifying his canon timeline to make him younger is a hassle and a half, the fact remains that until we saw Kakashi Gaiden we didn't actually have any details on his backstory...

In other words? The beginning of the series managed just fine without it, so why don't we just throw it out entirely?

Afterall, this fic is about jōnin-sensei Kakashi—the details of his traumatic childhood are irrelevant, and it's not like early fans had that information to work with anyway.

Naruto is canonically younger than Sasuke (who was a baby during the Kyūbi attack) so we shall put him at eleven to give us some leeway.

Now let's say we wanted to make Kakashi somewhere around sixteen to eighteen during canon—that would require him to be five to seven years old when Minato dies.

Now let's compress his timeline some more:

Considering the Konoha 9 all attended the very first chūnin exams after they graduated, I don't see any reason why Kakashi couldn't do the same—and unlike them he's a prodigy so it's basically guaranteed that he'd pass. (And that's assuming he didn't get a field promotion...)

Give him up to a year to become jōnin, and then have him join ANBU almost immediately after.

Some months later, Naruto is born and the Yondaime dies.

To compress it further, I am making his graduation even more ridiculous:

Academy student at three, genin and then chūnin at four, jōnin and ANBU at five. God, can you imagine a five-year-old ANBU? That'd be terrifying. Naruto is born around the time he turns six, and eleven years later Kakashi passes a genin team for the first time and is made a jōnin-sensei at seventeen, just like Minato-sensei was.

It'll take Team 7 a while to realize that, however.

...WAIT A MINUTE.***

Why am I even bothering to promote him prior to Minato's death? Am I, perhaps, an idiot?

Minato becomes his sensei as soon as he graduates to genin at five years old, but before that Kakashi spent a lot of time as his apprentice and they bonded. Shortly after Team 7 is formed the Kyūbi attack happens and Minato dies — the how doesn't matter, so don't worry about it.

The war is over so instead of Kannabi Bridge they go on some other dangerous mission with the same results, except this time the reason Minato isn't there is because he's dead.

They send some other inadequate chūnin or jōnin in his place, but they promptly get killed early on in the mission, perhaps at the same time that Rin gets kidnapped.

Kakashi is chūnin at this point so he naturally takes charge, despite being a five or six year old and Obito being — I don't know, twelve? Significantly older.

Obito dies, then Rin, and this time it's the stupid Sandaime that sticks Kakashi in ANBU like he's an annoying unwanted child that he wants to keep out of sight and thoroughly occupied — at least, until he needs a jōnin sensei for the Kyūbi's Jinchūriki and the Last Uchiha...

So, final version:

Five years old when Minato dies and Naruto is born, and about five or six years old when Obito and Rin die and Kakashi gets stuck in ANBU, followed by eleven years of Naruto growing up while Kakashi's in ANBU makes him... About sixteen to seventeen years old when Kakashi becomes Team 7's jōnin sensei.

To Kakashi, this feels almost poetic. (Same age as Minato-sensei was...)

#hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #kakashi #naruto #team 7 #au #naruto au #fanfic idea #fanfic prompt #fan fic ideas #fanfiction ideas #fanfiction prompts #fan fiction idea #naruto fic #naruto fanfiction #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi fic #kakashi gaiden

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tollingreminiscentbells · 5 months

Text

RoCS Side Story: Simon and Harry

Since people sometimes ask about Simon and backstory and things of that nature, I thought I'd deliver with a little bit of side content! Specifically, Simon and baby Harry meeting for the first time. A little shy of 1,000 words below the cut, if Harry's early childhood, and Simon's take on how to talk to toddlers, is of interest to you.

“I’m here to see the boy.”

The older woman currently responsible for the care of Harry Potter looks at Simon with extreme skepticism. Simon doesn’t blame her—he wouldn’t trust him, either.

“Harry,” he amends, because he knows he wouldn’t appreciate being referred to as the boy and, even if Harry isn’t present for this conversation, it’s the principle of the fucking thing.

She still looks profoundly unimpressed, but nods. The Dark Lord must have let her know Simon was coming, though he can’t imagine she was fully prepared to be confronted with a skinny twenty-year-old who hasn’t slept in almost thirty hours.

In hindsight, that might have been an error in judgment on his part.

“This way,” she says stiffly.

“Thank you,” he says, following her down the hall and up a flight of stairs.

Their destination turns out to be a small nursery on the second floor, just off the landing. And there, sitting in a crib under the window, playing with a stuffed dog, is the child the Dark Lord inexplicably thinks Simon is fit to raise.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” the woman tells him. She leaves the door open on her way out.

Simon watches her go, then turns his attention to Harry, who is watching him with fascination, the stuffed toy forgotten. They stare at each other for a moment and then Simon says, “Hello.”

Harry waves. “Hi.”

“Oh.” Simon blinks at him. “You can talk. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

Harry giggles and says again, “Hi.”

“Albeit with a somewhat limited vocabulary.” Simon crosses the room and folds his arms against the side of the crib. “I suppose you are only . . . how old are you?” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I’m asking you, you’re a baby. Or are you a toddler? Is there a discrete point where one becomes the other?”

Every word that leaves his mouth is just more evidence that he has no business even being here. Of all the wizards in Britain, Simon Glass might be the last one anyone should entrust a small child to, particularly a small child as important as Harry Potter.

Said small child is stretching his arms in Simon’s direction. “Up.”

“You want out of the cage? I don’t blame you.”

He’s never picked up a toddler before, but the principle seems straightforward enough and he reaches down to wrap his arms around Harry and lift him up and over the side of the crib. He’s heavier than he looks, but Simon doesn’t drop him and instead gets them both situated on the floor, so he’ll consider that a success.

The bar is so low he’d have to start tunneling to go any lower.

And then they’re back to staring at each other because of course they are. Simon has never felt more out of his depth in his life. This is worse than the day he got arrested.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits quietly.

Harry tilts his head curiously, but Simon’s uncertainty might be affecting him because his face is starting to screw up like he’s going to cry. In a tiny, plaintive voice, he says, “Mama?”

Oh. Oh no.

But Harry really looks like he’s going to cry now, so Simon does the only thing he can think of: he starts talking again. “She’s . . . she’s not coming back, I'm sorry. Neither of them are.” He tries to smile and is very certain he fails. “My mother died a long time ago—I don’t remember her very well. I wish it had been the other way around and my father died first, but no one asked me.” He reaches out and brushes messy hair off Harry’s forehead. “No one asked you, either, did they? I suppose we’re alike that way.”

The talking strategy seems to be working because Harry is once more looking at Simon with some degree of interest, the tears held at bay. He makes a noise that isn’t quite a word, but Simon has spent most of his life not being understood by the people around him, so he nods. “Just so.”

Harry smiles at him, which makes him quite possibly the only person who has ever found Simon remotely amusing, and Simon sighs. “I’m not cut out to be a parent,” he tells him flatly. “The house is horrible and I can’t cook. I don’t know anything about children. And there’s no one else, so you won’t even be getting a proper family out of the deal. This is a terrible idea and I don’t know why anyone would even entertain it.”

Harry holds out a hand and Simon takes it, watching as pudgy fingers curl around his index and middle fingers. It’s kind of sweet, actually. Reaching out to Simon like he’s in any way fit to be here, like Simon is someone he might conceivably be comforted by.

Perhaps the Dark Lord knew Simon better than he knows himself because there really isn't a decision to be made, is there? It was made the moment Simon walked in the door. Or maybe even sooner. The moment he agreed to meet Harry Potter at all.

Harry is alone in the world now, but Simon has an idea of what that’s like and maybe . . . maybe that will be enough to get them started. A foundation he can build on, if he manages to keep them both alive long enough to try.

Looking into Harry's bright green eyes, he finds that he wants to try.

“I suppose I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I?” When Harry smiles again, he smiles back. “I’m Simon.”

#revolution of configured stars #rocs #my fics

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starpirateee · 3 months

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I mean you know i’m always a sucker for Holy Bastard if you wanna write some of that (be it high school or present day, I love anything w them) :)

Holy bastard... Wow, I can't even blame anyone else here can I? Brought this on myself... Well, I'm always happy to provide smth for these tragic ass gays

I can offer you... *Checks notebook* possessed!Ted?

There was something deeply wrong with Ted. Mark had been with and around him long enough to know how he acted. He was awkward, and barely knew how to keep his composure.

So when he suddenly gained an extra flourish of confidence and a suave new edge, Mark immediately knew to assume that something was wrong. Still, he tried to pretend like nothing was happening, because for all he knew, it was just a trick of his mind. Making him see Ted in a completely different light so he would seem less appealing.

It wasn't until he got closer that he really realised what was happening, but by then, it was too late to stop it.

The two of them had walked together back to Ted's place after class that day. Since they convened that morning, and he first noticed it, Mark had been meaning to ask if Ted was feeling okay. There was something ever so slightly wrong with him, and even if he couldn't place what it was, it was recognisable.

But, they'd separated after first period, and the need to ask had died down with every other opportunity. But now was a good time. Now, when there was nobody else around. Now, when he had to face Ted or nothing alone. When they'd started going out, the two of them had decided that the relationship was enough of a secret, therefore nothing else should be.

"Teddy, uh... Are you okay?"

Best to rip the bandage off. Whatever happened... Happened.

"Sure, why'd you ask?" Ted hummed, not turning to face him as he worked on re-stacking a pile of books that were threatening to fall across his bedroom floor.

"You seemed... Different this morning, and I haven't had the chance to ask about it." It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was he'd seen, but there was a certain spark residing in Ted's eyes, that Mark's rampant imagination had compared to a stagnant hunger, waiting to be unleashed.

Ted turned around suddenly, and Mark's brow creased in worry. he had been right, there was something wrong. And that something was that the hunger had taken over, leaving behind a strange golden hue shining in his eyes. In more ways than one, it was beautiful, but it was far from natural, and borderline terrifying when Mark really thought about it.

"Uh, Teddy-?"

"I don't know what you're worried about, Mark!" Ted mused in a voice that barely sounded like his own. He approached step by step, eyeing Mark up and down, and in that moment, Mark felt rather like a prey animal being hunted. It was ennough to send a shiver up his spine.

When Ted finally reached him, he laid a sturdy hand on his shoulder. "I'm better than okay! I've never felt more alive!" And with that, he pulled him into a kiss before he could think to protest, deep and passionate and altogether very unlike him. Mark couldn't fight it, and part of him wanted to just give in to it. How bad could it possibly be anyway? He leaned in ever so slightly closer, feeling Ted's lips curl into a satisfied grin.

Mark's eyes fluttered shut. In the space he was left with- some apartment building, by the looks of things- he could see himself, looking a good twenty years older, and another man he only recognised because he'd spent more than long enough staring into those eyes.

Ted.

But, unlike him, Ted had changed a lot. His hair had grown longer, he'd actually managed to grow and maintain a moustache, and he looked vaguely like he'd been lacking a good night's sleep for a while. Mark stood in observance for a while, watching himself. Watching Ted. Seeing how much the two of them had changed.

"You can't just come back after all this time and pretend everything's okay. It doesn't work like that, man." Ted's voice was stiff with disdain, thick with something that may have been regret, and may have been downright anger. "You have your life, let me live mine."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Ted! I want what the two of us had!" Ted pushed past him, storming into the hallway without saying another word. Mark's hand curled at his side, unsure if he wanted to protest or dispel his own bubbling anger. "C'mon, don't be like that-"

"What? Fair? Face it, we were over a long time ago, we were never meant to be." Ted muttered as he turned his head. His brown eyes burned off the fuel of whatever had just gone on. "Move on. We both know you have better options that crawling back to me."

"Ted-"

"Leave me the fuck alone. You ruined us. Don't come crawling back now after everything."

Mark's eyes snapped open, and with a force he'd never quite seen in himself, he pushed Ted back enough to separate them."What was that-" he breathed, staring into the golden eyes of the thing inside of Ted.

"Just a glimpse, that's all!"

"Of what?'

"Us, of course! We've always been so interesting together, don't you think?!"

#starkid #holy bastard #ted spankoffski #mark chasity #void offering #star mail #nova's tags →#i hope this ship never dies honest to god #mr curt mega knows about it and thats funny as fuck #i enjoy being here writing for these awful bitches #so... why not make it worse? this idea has been brewing in my head for a while #i may as well instigate it

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mariademetal · 2 months

Text

cw ... yuuji calls reader babe, blood(?) but nothing violent and no vivid description of a wound, if there's anything else lmk note ... haiii welcome to my lil established relationship yuji fic in which he is a stupid cat dad this is HEAVILYYYYY based on my experiences with kittens (every single kitten i've ever owned has shat on my bed once, as if just to get it out of their system before devoting themselves to a litter box) and the many fatal injuries i've received from them..... word count ... 3.1k

At first, you're the one that's apprehensive about bringing the cat home.

It's a little brown thing that ambushes you at the foot of your apartment's stairs, and who was very fun playmate for the first twenty minutes it followed you around, but got to be a little more trouble than you thought it might be worth after locking into climbing you like a tree and tearing a hole in your jeans in the process. At which point, you decided that while your hangout sesh was a lot of fun, it's time for your friend to go back to its mother.

To its fortune, just as you steel your resolution to leave your new friend at the bottom of the staircase on which it first attacked you, Yuuji shows up— of course he does— and decides as soon as his eye catches the claws hanging off of your shirt that he will simply keel over and die if the two of you don't foster the kitten.

"What if her last owners neglected her?" He pleads with you, looking you with the most convincing sad brown eyes you've seen in a moment while he speaks. (All while his new best friend bites his finger like it's made out of something positively delicious.) You're in the worst place in the world for this discussion, you think, still sitting at the bottom of that damned staircase. The fact that Yuuji will have won the moment you move into your apartment with that kitten keeps you in place at the price of your pride.

"Look at how fat she is, Yuuji," you gesture to her, and you can't even remember at what point in your heated discussion it became her. "What if her owners love her dearly and are waiting for her to come home? I'm not going to... catnap her."

"What if her mother died and she's looking for a new one?" He keeps asking these stupid hypothetical, rhetorical questions that prove nothing but still annoy you to no end. Not to mention the way he's cradling her in his arms— you have no doubt that by new mother he means himself.

"We already have a kid," you grit out. By kid, you don't mean an actual child, but rather a betta fish that Inumaki dared you to buy six beers deep and who you, unfortunately, discovered you could not return the morning after, nor ever. Yuuji stepped up as his father when you proved to be a little bit too absent as a single parent to him, and he's alive and thriving to this day, albeit in a tank you doubt is quite the recommended size. "What if she eats Fish? He's my pride and joy."

At this, Yuuji stops and thinks. "Aren't Nobara and Maki looking for a cat?"

"I think so," you hum, and tentatively reach over Yuuji's lap to rub your little enemy's stomach.

"Lets just take care of her until they're ready to take her," he smiles at you, tight-lipped and hopeful. "I'll make sure she doesn't eat Fish. I'll scoop her shit and feed her too."

You take your hand back to allow another tenant to pass between you and Yuuji and lean your head against the railing with a sigh. It's a bad idea and you know it. As much as you'd love to think you and Yuuji are ready to take care of a cat, dedicate the time and care it needs to it, you just can't. But if Yuuji says he'll take care of her just for the meantime, you know he means it. "... Alright. But the second she fucks with Fish, she's gone."

As it turns out, Kitty, as you and Yuuji have intermittently named her to match with Fish, is an only slightly worse roommate than Yuuji. If you were to rank everyone in your apartment by how much you all contribute, it'd go something like this— Fish in first place, obviously, for all the joy he gives you and Yuuji, as well as causing the least mess; you in second, for feeding and raising Fish up; Yuuji in third for cooking and paying the bills; Kitty at dead last for shitting all over your comforter on the first night she stays with you and having the audacity to beg you for food come morning.

Yuuji had prepared in every way he could think of— he bought her a litterbox, plenty of food for kittens, a collar (just until Maki or Nobara take her to get chipped), and enough catnip to plant a field. And, for what it's worth, when you’d first brought her into your apartment, just before Yuuji left to buy her supplies, she was an angel. She was the calmest you'd seen her the whole evening, carefully sniffing the floor of your apartment, sneaking up behind corners, checking for any harm that might come her way. So preoccupied with discovering this new, unknown land that she doesn't even acknowledge Fish's existence. It was only after she'd settled in that he ran to get her kitten things.

Naturally, Yuuji didn't think to check if Kitty actually knows how to use the elegant litter box he'd so diligently set up for her in your bathroom, so where you were expecting to sleep in and wake up to your boyfriend peppering your face with kisses, you instead wake up at the asscrack of dawn to the feeling of him jerking your blanket off of you (and the rest of your bed, you suppose), Kitty watching him from the floor with what you can only describe as morbid curiosity.

"Yuuji, what...?" You croak out, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

Then, the smell hits you, and you're confident you're not falling back asleep.

While Yuuji washes your blanket and lectures Kitty on the proper, sanitary way to relieve herself, you sprinkle some food in Fish's tank.

You stare down Kitty, who, in Yuuji's temporary absence, has taken to frolicking around your flat, as if she isn't a criminal, as if she didn't ruin your favorite duvet, and with a glare that softens by the second, you scoop out a can of cat food into a bowl and put it on the floor for her, despite the fact that Yuuji swore he’d take care of feeding her.

For what it's worth, you have to appreciate that, at the very least, she hasn't so much as glanced in Fish's direction. Despite how vehemently you're denying it at the moment, Kitty is, in fact, tearing and clawing and shitting her way into your heart— but if she does come to stay with you for any extended period of time, you'd rather it be one in which you don't have to constantly move Fish further and further away from her reach in order to keep him safe.

Fish, your first and beloved son— an accident, sure, but the happiest you've made in your life. There have been nights where you have been one dry heave away from throwing up your stomach in its entirety, and the only thing that could get you to stand up and drink some water was Fish, blub-blub-blubbing in his own, urging you with bulbous eyes to take care of yourself (because if you don't, you can't take care of him).

He's a selfish child, but all children are, you suppose. It’s their right.

Kitty finishes her food with a satiated meow and barely makes the three-foot journey to your coffee table before dropping down onto her side and passing out. It's an adorable sight, obviously, but one that also reminds you that that could've been you this morning if only she hadn't emptied her bowels onto your blanket.

Yuuji comes back to your apartment, empty-handed and head hung low, and you already know what he’s going to tell you; “Your blanket didn’t make it, babe.”

All you can do is sigh and throw your arms up. “I’ll pick up another one after work.”

Thankfully, after that fateful morning, Kitty didn’t have many other shit-related accidents. It was incredible, really, how easily she managed to fit into your life, how easily she forced you to carve time out of your day to spend with her instead— she sleeps on your couch since you tragically banned her from your bedroom, wakes you up like an alarm clock, consistently, to give her breakfast, and lazes around your apartment in tandem with you and Yuuji scurrying around to get ready for your respective days. You have class in the morning, he has work, and you always come come back just in time to deliver Kitty and Fish’s lunch. You’ve also found that Kitty has a taste in television— she screams at you whenever you put on Rupaul’s Drag Race, out of excitement or prejudice you can’t quite find out, and curls up into a ball in the crook of your elbow whenever you watch Seinfeld. Then, Yuuji comes back from work and if you don’t have plans, the four of you eat dinner together like a bonafide family.

Tonight, you don’t have plans, but Nobara, who has been promising to call you about Kitty for the past month you’ve had her has finally caught you on your phone.

“Of course I want her,” she insists, and you can see her bob swaying along with her head as she jerks it around in your mind's eye. (You love her dearly.) “It’s just… not a great time for Maki and I.”

Maki and I seems to be her favorite thing to say nowadays— you don’t think you’ve seen one without the other in some months. “That’s fine, but me and Yuuji can’t foster her forever, you know,” At the sound of his name, Yuuji whips his head around to see what you’re doing. Once he clocks who you're talking to, he mouths to you to tell Nobara he says hi. “Yuuji says hi, by the way.”

“Yeah, tell him I say hi too,” Nobara sighs. “We’re moving into Maki’s folks’ place, and I don’t know how they feel about cats and stuff.”

“Maki’s folks’ place is so big I doubt they’ll ever even see her.”

"I'm sorry, but can you just keep her until we're settled in?" Nobara asks with a politeness that's very out of character for her. Then again, if you had to live within a mile of the Zen'in compound, you'd be worn out, too.

It must be a sign from God, from Buddha, from the universe, or maybe just fate that before you have the opportunity to mumble out an uncertain I don't know to Nobara, Kitty wraps herself around your calf. She's gotten so big, you think to yourself— it feels like just yesterday she was small enough to fit in your shoe, but over the month you've fed her and scooped her shit, she's become big enough to play with your shoes.

"Yeah, of course," you splutter out. You press your phone against your shoulder and lean down to pick Kitty up while Nobara chatters away in your ear about gratitude and just hum when she asks you this or that. For a moment, just a moment, you wonder if you should be selfish and keep Kitty for yourself. Then you reprimand yourself, because she's still, for all intents and purposes, Maki and Nobara's cat.

Still, as you come to terms with the fact that Kitty's stay in your apartment will certainly be longer than you originally planned, it seems Kitty comes to the same realization— you and Yuuji discover that she's pointedly decided to make herself entirely at home. She was never well behaved, not really, what with the way she'd pounce on Yuuji whenever he fell asleep on the couch, or the way she'd dig her nails into your thighs whenever your petting skills failed to meet her standards, but it seemed that you, at the very least, had an understanding when it came to respecting the space you're all sharing— your apartment. She didn't scratch your couch, didn't spray litter all over your bathroom, and seemed to ignore fish in his entirety.

Now, though, she's picked up possibly the worst hobby of all— knocking shit off of other shit. Pens off of your desk, detergent off of your washing machine, cups off of your fucking kitchen counter. Yuuji, guilty for anything and everything he is physically capable of being guilty for, has cleaned up after her with a vigilance that you feel genuinely bad about. Unfortunately, he doesn't do it as carefully as you wish, which is why you're picking glass out of his hand with a tweezer at one in the morning after he stumbled out of your room to find what you and him had neglected to put away (what Kitty had managed to knock off of a counter) this time and found out the hard way. By tripping on the culprit in the darkness and falling hands-first onto the scene of the crime.

"Are you sure you can go to work tomorrow?" You ask, voice soft, and Yuuji, who has been smiling since he woke you up with a yelp, finally falters.

"I think I'll be alright," he murmurs back. "Nanami won't be happy, but..."

"When is he ever?" You snort.

"He likes Kitty, too."

"You've shown him pictures of her?"

"Of course! I've shown pictures of her to everyone in the department," he grins, and you can picture him, heavy in his uniform, lifting his phone up to his stoic boss' face with a picture of Kitty, asking Isn't she cute? Then him adjusting his glasses before nodding, Yes, Itadori, she's very cute.

You suppose that's the effect Kitty has on people. Yuuji, too.

He's sitting on the edge of the tub, you're sitting on the toilet seat, paper plate balanced on the sink beside you to drop the fragments of glass onto, Kitty passing and curling around your and Yuuji's feet. It feels odd to say it, but he got off lucky in this situation— only a few pieces of glass burrowed themselves deep enough into his skin to bleed, and the rest are just stuck on the surface. Still, you're pretty confident Yuuji's in a lot more pain than he's letting on.

"Really, Yuuji," you huff, "I think you should stay home tomorrow. Just so the swelling goes down and it'll be less painful the day after."

"It doesn't hurt," he starts speaking with his whole chest, but once he clocks the look you're giving him of complete and utter disbelief, his confidence wanes. "... that much."

"I know you're worried about money, but I'm worried about you," you start, and try not to wince with him after pulling out a particularly deep shard of glass. "And besides, if this gets worse because you went back to work too early, we'll have to pay for that, too."

He hums. "I guess so."

You wrap his hand up diligently, pepper his face with kisses, and shoo him away to your bedroom so you can pick up all the glass on the floor that didn't end up on that paper plate. He calls in sick.

You get through your classes like a zombie being pulled along campus by a leash. As it turns out, staying up until the early morning making absolutely sure that there wasn't any glass left on your floor did not prepare you for success when it was time to leave. Still, Yuuji solemnly swore to spend his day focused entirely on healing, so you achieved one little victory, if nothing else.

When you get home, before you can even grasp the doorknob, you hear Kitty yapping away, Yuuji sniffling, and something being shuffled around your living room. You don't know quite what you're afraid of— an intruder, Kitty growing to the size of King Kong, or Yuuji having shrunk of Kitty's height, but after peeking your head into the door, you can confidently say that it is none of the above. You do, however, see the assortment of Kitty's things gathered right by the door.

You step into your apartment, kick your shoes off, and greet Kitty as she practically jumps into your arms.

"Yuuji?" You call out to him, and realize he's in the bathroom, probably figuring out what the best way to remove Kitty's litter box would be. "What're you doing?"

He walks out of the bathroom, eyes red, bandage on his hand freshly, but messily changed, and his head hung low. "We have to give Kitty up," he says, and you immediately clutch her tighter in your arms.

"What're you talking about?"

He just gestures to where Fish is— rather, where fish should be. His tank isn't just empty, it's gone. You realize what happened.

"Did she eat Fish?" You ask. Your voice is calmer than you really are, but you don't want Yuuji to think you're mad at him for Kitty coincidentally killing Fish the one day he happened to stay home.

"No," he insists, and points to a red Solo cup he's placed on top of your bookshelf. "He's there. She... knocked his tank over. I saved him before he could die, but..."

You look down at Kitty, who is similarly looking up at you— it's like she knows what she did, like she knows exactly what your one condition to let her stay is, like she's pushing the rules just to see what you'll let her get away with before kicking her out. But Fish is not dead, albeit traumatized and certainly not thriving in his temporary home. You realize that you think you'd forgive Kitty if she clawed your eye out. You've been denying your truth— denying that you love Kitty like she's yours, because she is— for far too long.

"I-I remember what you said about only fostering her if she doesn't mess with Fish, and I agreed, so—"

"I don't want to get rid of her," you interrupt Yuuji, and his expression goes from distraught to severely confused.

"No," he insists. At first, you were the one who was apprehensive about keeping Kitty. Now, the roles have been reversed. "She messed with Fish. I get it."

"Yuuji," you say, softer, and walk towards him. You look at his hand and realize he must've worked so hard on his day off, to clean up the glass of Fish's tank, to clean up the water, the decorations, the plants, and how scared he must've been that Fish would die. How scared he must've been that you'd be mad at him. You love him too much for that. "We're not getting rid of Kitty."

"We're not?"

"Of course not. Do you want to?"

"Of course not!" He huffs, and makes a face at Kitty that she must not like, because she takes a swipe at him from all the way in the crook of your elbow.

"So... do you want to tell Nobara?"

"Hard pass."

#not edited icl #this stems from my deep dark desire to raise a cat with a himbo #jujutsu kaisen #itadori x reader #jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji fluff #jjk fluff #itadori yuji x reader

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

Text

The Oar in the Sand: Chapter Twenty-Three - The Sixth Day of Nostos

Angst. Angst everywhere!

If you hate MC/Reader in this chapter, I don't blame you. They're both as bad as each other right now. Though I suppose she's not in her right mind at the moment.

AO3 link to chapter.

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Smoke curled from the barrel of the pistol. Chishiya’s finger was still curled around the trigger, poised to shoot. His expression was impassive in every way, yet his attention was trained intently on Banda, who was now straightening up and brushing the dust from his clothes.

‘The rules were perfectly clear.’ Banda said, using his sleeve to clean his razor. ‘You can’t kill me.’

‘I guess that’s true,’ Chishiya replied. ‘But I can still shoot you in the foot.’

I scrabbled to my feet, keeping well away from Banda and fighting the urge to hide behind Chishiya. This whole situation… it was humiliating. All this time, he had played me for a fool, and I had been blind to his true intentions. He was a murderer - a depraved image of humanity at its worst.

This whole time, all he wanted was to kill me.

A lump had formed in my throat just thinking about it. I swallowed, trying to convince myself that everything would be okay now. I was out of the cell. I was alive. We had won the game. Things had to be okay.

But they’re not.

‘You really kept me alive just for this?’ The question slipped out before I could stop it, and I immediately regretted saying anything.

Banda eyed the pistol dismissively. ‘You really didn’t know, hm?’ He looked out of the window where the morning sun was shimmering over the city. ‘Whatever this world is, it’s beautiful. It’s different to the last one in lots of ways. People have disappeared, that much is true. But their bones haven’t. And neither have the flowers.’ His mouth tilted into a small smile. ‘It really is unfortunate’ he said quietly. ‘I wanted to add you to my collection.’

A sickening sense of unease grew in the pit of my stomach. This man wasn’t just a one-time murderer. ‘You’re…’

‘Banda Sunato,’ Chishiya interjected. ‘I read about you in the papers back in the old world. You were charged with the murder of four women.’

Banda’s eyes crinkled with a strange sort of pleasure. And everything finally made sense. The strange fascination with me, using me to win the game, and even allowing Enji to isolate me in that cell just to keep me away from the others. I was an exotic find. A prized possession.

But there was still something that bothered me. ‘When you and Enji lied to me,’ I said to him, ‘I could have died. You went along with it.’

Banda was unfazed, and tested his blade by gently running his thumb along the edge. ‘Ever since you passed the first round without speaking to a soul, I had a feeling you had a secret partnership with someone. Although I never would have guessed it would be you two.’

I was beginning to feel more and more ill with each second that passed. I didn’t dare look away, wary that Banda could lunge at me, and I didn’t exactly know how to fight. It was the one favour I should have asked Kuina for, but now it was too late.

Suddenly, a groan sounded from within the closed cell, followed by a thud and the sharp crack of bones. And when Banda looked curiously over his shoulder, I saw our opportunity and seized it.

‘Let’s go,’ I whispered to Chishiya.

We backed away through the cell block, Chishiya maintaining his grip on the pistol. He didn’t take his eyes off Banda until we reached the entrance of the guardroom. Looking back, I saw Banda ducking into the cell, the razor still glinting in his hand. To be trapped in a prison with these two, it was somehow worse than the game itself.

Chishiya and I crept through the guardroom and down the stairwell to the cell block below. There was nothing we could do for now. There would be no leaving the prison until the game had officially ended, and it couldn’t end until Enji had given a wrong suit, which meant playing for yet another round. All I had to do was keep well away from the two psychopaths upstairs.

I breezed past several empty cells, ignoring the faint groans and whimpers of pain ricochetting from the block above. Without a second glance at Chishiya, I chose a cell and walked inside, closing the door firmly behind me.

‘What are you doing?’ Chishiya’s smooth, husky voice sounded from outside.

I sat down on the floor. ‘It’s the safest place to be right now,’ I replied. I didn’t really know if it was or not; Banda could still come in and attack me if he wanted to. But I really didn’t feel like justifying my actions to Chishiya. He sure didn’t bother justifying his.

‘I would have thought you’d be tired of cells,’ he said.

His voice was just by the door, but I kept my eyes focused on the concrete walls, refusing to look at him. ‘I am, but I’m also tired of you.’

There was an amused huff. ‘You’re angry with me.’

‘You let me partner with him,’ I said. ‘You knew he was a serial killer who murdered four women, and you still let me do it.’

‘I didn’t let you do anything. It was your decision to partner with him.’

‘You didn’t give me a choice!’ My frustration was starting to get the better of me. I took a calm breath, and leaned my head back against the wall. ‘Please,’ I mumbled. ‘I just want to be left alone for a while.’

There was no reply. Not even a sigh or a chuckle. In fact, as the minutes dragged by, I started to wonder whether Chishiya had crawled away to find his own cell. Occasionally, the quiet was punctuated by a sharp crunch or a whine from upstairs, and I grimaced at the thought of what Yaba and Banda were doing to Enji.

I wonder if he’s told them anything…

Probably not much. Although there were two sides to everything. How much of this was information-gathering, and how much was Banda just having fun? Enji wouldn’t last much longer at this rate. Every crunch was probably a broken bone, every whimper muffled by blood, until…

‘THE HOUR IS ALMOST OVER. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE CELLS.’

Upstairs, there was an echo as a lock slid aside, followed by the scraping sound of a door opening. My body froze in place, too afraid to move even a muscle in case Banda chose to come down here. I could hear hushed voices, but couldn’t pinpoint what they were saying. Footsteps. Another metallic screech. And finally, a clang as the cell doors closed.

So they’re staying upstairs.

I relaxed a little, only to tense back up again upon realising that I didn’t actually know my suit. I began to panic a little, one hand coming up to grasp my collar, until Chishiya’s voice drawled from the other side of the door.

‘You’re a Club.’

He’s still here?

I approached the tiny mesh window, finally noticing Chishiya’s figure slouched on the ground just outside the cell, one arm propped up on his knee and the pistol still in his hand. With a barely audible mutter, he got to his feet and slipped the pistol into the waistband of his sweatpants before making his way to the cell next to mine. As he did, his hair parted a little and I caught a glimpse of his collar.

‘You’re a Heart,’ I said.

He stilled. Then quietly shuffled into the cell next door, as if I had never spoken. A part of me wondered whether he was angry too, but I couldn’t imagine him angry. I had seen him bitter… sarcastic… cold… distant… but never angry.

‘IT IS TIME TO MAKE YOUR GUESS. EVERYONE, PLEASE ENTER A CELL. ONE PERSON PER CELL, PLEASE.’

I stepped away from the door, finally ready to say goodbye to this place. For the last time, the lock clanged into place, sealing me inside.

‘PLEASE MAKE YOUR GUESS.’

‘クラブ,’ I whispered. Club.

There was nothing but silence as the timer counted down to zero. And then, there it was. The blast of an exploding collar coming from directly above us. Enji was dead. It was finally over. We’d reached the end of this nightmare.

We won, Ippei…

That familiar buzzer hummed through the cell block, and the lock slid open, releasing the door to my cell. I hesitantly cracked open the stiff metal door and once again stepped out into the block. There was a grating creak from behind me as Chishiya emerged.

‘GAME CLEAR - CONGRATULATIONS’

Congratulations…

It certainly didn’t feel like a victory. The last time I felt this way, we had only just escaped the Witch Hunt with our bodies intact.

Our footsteps echoed as we walked down the block and back towards the entrance of the prison. My collar soon released with a click, and I ripped it off, throwing it behind me. I didn’t know who was responsible for making a contraption like that, but whoever they were, they could burn in hell for all I cared. Too many people had died. I thought of Ippei’s sunshine smile.

It’s all so unfair.

I opened up the heavy prison doors, breathing in the crisp scent of earth, concrete and rain. The brief spells of sunshine from this morning had subsided, making way once again for heavy rain. It streamed down the sides of the prison, dripping into large puddles that collected around the edges of the building. Shivering, I descended the steps into the courtyard, Chishiya walking behind me.

‘I see you’re not speaking to me.’

‘I have nothing to say.’ I continued across the courtyard, ignoring the icy rain seeping through my clothes.

‘Hmm…’ I could hear that familiar dry amusement in his voice again. ‘You know, it’s a shame you threw away that collar,’ he said. ‘It suited you.’

All at once, a blind rage overwhelmed me. I spun on my heel, my outstretched palm colliding with his cheek. The slap resounded through courtyard, and for a terrible moment, the only sound was the soft patter of the rain against the prison windows. His hand came up to feel his cheek, and his eyed lifted to mine, colder than ever before.

‘How can you say that?! How can you make stupid jokes like that after what we just went through?’ My hands balled into fists, shaking with outrage. I knew I was going to say something I would regret later, but I couldn’t hold back the anger coursing through my body.‘You want to know why I won’t speak to you? How about because you left me in there. You left me all alone, and I could have died. You— God! You’re such an asshole, Chishiya!’

His gaze was piercing. ‘Yes, you could have died,’ he murmured. ‘And so could I. That’s the nature of the games, and you still insisted on clearing one together. Coming here was your decision.’

We both knew what had gone unsaid. First in the furniture store and again in the hospital, Chishiya had drawn a line against going into games together. And even if I understood why, it didn’t change anything. It didn’t change what had happened in this game.

‘Yeah,’ I admitted. ‘Yeah, I wanted to clear a game with you. I wanted to prove that you don’t have to go on your stupid journey of self-worth, or whatever it is you’re doing, by clearing a bunch of Diamond games. I wanted to do this together.’

‘And we did.’

‘No, we didn’t. You abandoned me right after the group started to split. You didn’t even help after they shoved me in that cell—’

‘If I had helped you,’ he cut in, ‘I might have been accused of being the Jack myself. And if we were both locked in there, we would have died anyway.’ His mouth curled into a snide smile. ‘Or maybe that’s what you wanted. For us to die together.’

Chishiya’s words struck me like lightning. Was this his true nature? So condescending, so callous. Of all people, I should have known, since I was the one who he’d nearly sacrificed for the sake of a pointless deck of cards. Had love really made me this blind?

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, a thunderous crack resounded from the sky above. I peered up, using my hand to shield my eyes from the pouring rain, only to discover that the blimp above us was sinking. There was a gust of wind, and the blimp exploded, engulfed in flames as it careened towards the ground with a metallic screech.

I didn’t stick around to watch, and instead strode in the direction of the entrance gates, hoping to finally get out of this awful place. The crunching of gravel told me that Chishiya was right at my heels.

‘Leave me alone,’ I said. ‘I’m serious.’

‘So am I. And I don’t think we’ve finished our discussion.’

‘Just get out of here, Chishiya.’

‘Need I remind you that the only reason Banda hasn’t come back is because I’m here?’ he replied curtly. ‘You need me.’

‘The fuck I do.’

I stormed through the iron entrance gates, just as the blimp crashed into an office block, erupting in a cloud of fire, ash and concrete. Even from this distance, I could feel a faint heat. In front of the prison was a maze of streets, grey buildings and windows. I didn’t recognise the area, and all of the buildings blurred into one through the veil of rain.

I don’t even care anymore…

On a whim, I headed down a random side street, passing by a selection of looted sushi bars, convenience stores and darkened izakayas in hopes of shaking Chishiya off my tail. It didn’t work.

‘I should have known this would happen,’ I muttered, knowing perfectly well that he could hear every word. ‘I should never have trusted you.’

‘You never did.’

I halted, my mouth falling open as I turned and faced him once more. Around us, the restaurant signs were swinging back and forth in the wind, the wood creaking as the storm ripped through the street. A shiver ran along my body, and I wrapped my arms around myself.

‘Are you serious? I did trust you,’ I told him. ‘I’ve trusted you with my life, time and time again.’

‘Did,’ he said. ‘Past tense.’ His eyes drifted down to my bare ring finger. ‘You haven’t trusted me for a while now.’

He noticed?

I clutched my finger, aware of how quickly he’d exposed me. Since when had he noticed that I wasn’t wearing the ring? And why wouldn’t he say anything?

‘Can you really blame me?’ I asked, struggling to look him in the eye. In a restaurant window, the reflected figures of Chishiya and I were at a standoff, our faces blurred with the raindrops screaming down the glass. ‘I did trust you in this game. I trusted that you’d have a plan, or that you’d come up with a code. Do you know how much it hurt, seeing you walk away from me?’

‘It was more strategic that way.’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘Because you were close to Enji, you worked out that he was communicating with Kotoko.’

‘We didn’t even need a strategy,’ I argued. ‘If we’d have just paired up, we would have won by default. Eventually it would have been obvious who the Jack was.’

‘Oh?’ His expression lit up with fascination. ‘How interesting…You were really willing to let that many people die.’

Huh, wait!

‘That’s not—’

‘If I’d used the same strategy in the Witch Hunt, you would never have forgiven me.’

He was right.

As much as it killed me to admit it, he was right. I looked back at my reflection in the restaurant window, no longer recognising the girl who stood there, stricken in the coldness of this world. Had this place really changed me this much? A tremor ran through my body as the rain dripped down my chin.

Who am I now?

The reflection of Chishiya tilted his head, as if searching for something. Or someone. ‘When I first met you in the police station, you ran back into the smoke and risked your life to save a group of strangers.’ He hummed, curious. ‘It’s funny what these games do to people.’

I dared to look back at him. Through the shade of his hood, his eyes were sharper than ever, as if he could see through every layer of my being. Yet his mouth was downturned in a slight frown. He had always been unreadable. And unreachable, too.

‘That doesn’t change anything,’ I persisted, knowing that I was losing this fight. I was losing myself. ‘You still didn’t communicate with me. You didn’t tell me anything.’

‘And what about you?’

The question caught me off guard, and I instinctively touched my bare finger, seeking comfort from a ring that I no longer had. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He surveyed the empty restaurants around us, as if this conversation was boring him. ‘If I hadn’t created that code, you wouldn’t have survived.’

‘And?’

‘The entire time we were in there,’ he said, ‘you were relying on me. It’s even more obvious now.’ He sighed, adding, ‘I’m surprised that someone so resourceful could end up in a situation like that.’

Again, I couldn’t even deny it. I realised now that throughout the whole game, I had just assumed that Chishiya would come up with a plan. I’d put off partnering with anyone after he left me, and even waited for him to communicate with me first. I was playing the game for him this entire time, when I really should have been playing for me.

The wind picked up, and I stumbled back a little, bracing myself against a dining chair. The wooden signs were now banging against the buildings, protesting against the hurricane that swept them back and forth.

‘Okay,’ I confessed. ‘Maybe you’re right. I did rely on you too much. I just…’ My head was still pounding with the exhaustion, and I didn’t know what else to say. I was drained of words.

‘That’s just the start,’ Chishiya continued, a catlike glint in his eyes. ‘Those hallucinations are getting worse.’

Wait, what?

I suddenly felt naked in front of him. How much did he know about that? How could he see what was going on in my head?

Seeing my confusion, he recounted that day in the bathroom at the furniture store, when I’d seen all those bodies, strung and dripping from the ceiling like slabs of meat. ‘And if you think I haven’t noticed your nightmares,’ he said, ‘think again.’ There it was, that clinical edge, analysing me, tearing me apart like I was nothing more than a patient for him to study. ‘It was just after they locked you in the cell,’ he added. ‘I was in the guardroom when you screamed.’

I couldn’t believe him. The audacity of him, standing there and judging me as though he could actually understand what was going through my mind. I backed away, tottering when my heel caught on a table leg. His eyes lowered, noticing the blunder, but he didn’t try to approach me.

‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’ I shook my head furiously, and gripped the back of a chair as I tried to stop my hands from shaking with the cold.

‘I didn’t say there was.’

‘You didn’t have to.’

Chishiya made a noise of impatience. ‘The longer we spend in this world, the worse they’ll get,’ he said simply. ‘I knew joining this game would be a bad idea’

‘This relationship was a bad idea.’ Now that I could see clearly, I finally understood what was wrong with our relationship. ‘You don’t want to be with me, Chishiya. You want to be near me. It’s not the same.’

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a dismissive smile. ‘No matter what I say, you’re not going to be satisfied,’ he concluded. ‘You’ve obviously already made your mind up.’

‘I have.’

‘Just remember that you were the one who wanted this.’

My fingers tightened around the back of the chair. ‘Whatever you say. I’ve tried to make this work, but you’ve always pushed me away. Maybe now you’ll know how it feels.’

I don’t know how I expected him to react. But certainly not like this. He huffed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stared at the ground. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’

This was it, right here. In the middle of this side street, caught up in a hurricane, this was the end of the road for us.

Without hesitating, he strolled back the way we came, hands tucked firmly in his pockets. I stared at his back, taking in his hunched shoulders, the strings of wet blond hair that refused to stay under his hood. And then he rounded the street corner, disappearing into the storm.

Disappearing from my life.

He’s gone…

My heart ached wildly, torn between begging him to come back and the desire to simply give up trying. Chishiya wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t coming back at all. It didn’t seem real, no matter how many times I whispered the words.

I don’t know how long I was standing there, the rain drumming on the rooftops, and pooling along the pavements around me. My hair and clothes were stone cold and sodden. My body felt weak, and I soon realised that my arms and legs were trembling. I needed to get out of this rain, but my feet were too heavy to lift. I tried to manoeuvre around the restaurant tables, using them as leverage to help bear my weight. But then, a flash of pain seared through my head, and my knees buckled.

The last thing I remembered was the dribble of the rain against my face, as I collapsed in a heap on the wet ground, exhaustion finally taking over.

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu

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