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hwaflms · 6 days

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wicked games! ★ [ l.jn ]

{💭} jeno : let’s play a game. you like games, right?

[☆] pairing. perv!jeno x f!reader, mentions of bf!chenle x gf!reader

[☆] genre. smut | dubcon + cheating au

[☆] wc. 4.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), heavy dubcon elements (don’t like it, don’t read.), infidelity, jeno is a perv, manhandling, voyeurism, dacryphilia, forced kissing, harddom!jeno, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, use of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, slapping, lots of spit, hair pulling, forced submission, implied sex, implied breeding, i think that’s it but pls lmk if i forgot smth!

[☆] notes. i don’t condone any of this, if you don’t like it, just don’t read it! a little darker than my usual work, but happy (late) jeno day!! not super proofread but this was meant to be a drabble and i got a little carried away…but i’m also thinking of a part 2? idk ‼️ anyways pls don’t interact with my work unless ur 18+ thank u!!!

from the second your closed fist meets the door, you know this was a mistake.

this is not to say that you thought it was a fantastic idea before, spending over an hour just tossing and turning in bed in utter turmoil over the thoughts in your head. turning over to your left, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend chenle, sleeping soundlessly with slightly parted lips, arm wrapped around an extra pillow tightly. he wears a plain, white shirt along with a pair of checkered boxers, an outfit he slipped on after getting out of the shower and into bed.

you don't know where it went sour. you don't know when watching a show and cuddling you to sleep became him sleeping right after his shower with an arm wrapped around a pillow. you don’t know when the last time he touched you was. and you don’t remember when you started noticing jeno.

and you’ve noticed the looks, too. he’s not particularly shy about it either, so it’s some kinda of a miracle that chenle hasn’t seen him yet. when chenle first introduced you to his friends, you immediately liked every one of them except jeno. you couldn’t explain it at all, he hadn’t done anything outright bad but something about him just didn’t sit right with you. maybe it was the lingering glances, the way he shamelessly checked you out, the cleverly hidden but distinctly predatory look in his eyes when he surveyed you, even in front of other people.

jeno was chenle’s roommate, which meant you were around him a lot. you didn’t mind at all, initially, even seeking him out at home to strike up a conversation, or offer him a bit of something you had just baked for chenle. it was when you started becoming aware of the looks, of how his hand lingered on the small of your back when passing you by in the kitchen, of how his eyes scanned your legs when you wore shorts. you think the final straw was when you accidentally walked in on him watching some pretty rough porn in his room, which you only entered to return a pair of socks that got mixed up with yours and chenle’s laundry. in your defense, the door was ajar while he knew you were home, but what really got to you was the fact that he never even paused the video or tried to hide the tent in his pants when you walked in, just nonchalantly thanking you for giving his socks back. you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed the expanse of your body for a couple seconds before you left the room awkwardly, making sure to shut the door.

at first, you were uncomfortable. you debated telling chenle in your head numerous times, but your lack of concrete evidence made you think twice. was it fair to try and turn chenle against one of his best friend over a simple feeling you got? maybe not, you thought. but that feeling never went away. jeno made sure that it was persistent, made you feel like you needed to constantly look over your shoulder, until that uncomfortable feeling kind of morphed into a defeated one. you realised that at this stage, jeno wasn’t going to ever do anything. he had his chances too, so you figured that if he was ever planning to cross a line, he would have done it by now.

so you accepted that he was nothing more than a pervert and there was nothing you could do about it. that was up until a week or two ago, before you found yourself looking at jeno in a different light for the first time. it was no secret that your relationship with chenle was souring, diminishing before your eyes yet neither of you ever brought it up. instead you both sank into your miserable routine of tolerating each other, choosing to coexist peacefully instead of talking it out like you would have initially.

maybe you started hating chenle. maybe it was the empty space between your bodies, or how cold your hands felt nowadays that filled your heart with such bitterness, or maybe it was the fact that your body was throbbing, just aching and begging to be touched, that made you think all these thoughts that would have never crossed your mind before. like the animosity you felt towards chenle. and the curiosity you felt about jeno.

forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from chenle’s sleeping figure, you find yourself in front of jeno’s door, hand raised and closed in a fist like you had just knocked. your heart is pounding throughout your body, in disbelief over what you were doing. it takes him maybe ten seconds to open the door but it feels like an eternity, an undeniable feeling of dread pooling in your stomach over a situation you put yourself in. his eyebrow is raised when he opens it, one hand on his door handle and the other resting against its frame, towering over you in a way that already makes you feel small.

“can i help you?”

can he? you don’t answer, mouth opening in an attempt to speak but no sound leaves it. he inclines his head as if to urge you to say something, a bored expression on his face. jeno is attractive. you can’t even deny that. he wears a black tank top that stretches over his wide chest, a pair of loose sweatpants paired with it. the muscles of the arm holding on to the doorframe bulge, a gulp going down your throat as you look at it and look away.

he releases an annoyed sigh to snap you out of your thoughts, hand coming down to grip your forearm, all but yanking you into his room. you don’t even have time to react, already shoved near his bed when he turns around, arms crossed as he stands in front of the door in a way that could block your exit. you should have known he wasn’t going to pass up a moment with you alone.

but still, you try and explain the situation away. “t-the wi-fi password…”, you explain with a nervous chuckle, feigning indifference as you remain near his bed, a good amount of distance between your bodies. “i need the um, wi-fi password.”

you don’t even have your phone. the realisation hits the both of you at the same time, your mouth falling open a little while he looks incredulous, a disbelieving smirk on his lips. “the wi-fi password. you didn’t already have it?”, he counters, taking a step towards you. “from all the times you been in this house?”

you take a step back along with him, a blush coating your cheeks at how stupid he’s making you feel. “there must be something wrong with my p-phone”, you hate the way you stutter, wincing as you poorly argued back.

“you couldn’t ask chenle?”

“he’s asleep…”. it’s weak, but you have to try.

he finds this amusing apparently, because he repeats your statement after you, and your body freezes when she shuts his door. “he’s asleep…”

all you can offer him is a quick nod, but he sees right through you.

“you didn’t even bring your phone, doll”, he snickers, mockery just dripping from his tone and leaves you feeling vulnerable. “come on, cut the shit, what did you really want?”

at the present moment, you want nothing more than to leave, but your body is unmoving. “i…”, you start but you almost run out of breath when he takes a couple more firm steps in your direction. “what?”, he’s mocking you, and you feel that in order to be a comfortable distance away from him, you need to be sitting on his bed– a decision you immediately regret.

he’s in front of you in an instance, but makes no move to touch you. you’re face-to-face with his crotch from your position on the bed, and you have to look away to the side, heart pumping in your ears. “we both know why you’re really here, y/n.”

it’s a statement, but he looks like he’s expecting an answer, one that you can’t give him. you do look up at him though, and the look that crosses over his face makes your blood run cold. it’s all too intense for you, and you look back down, but what you see makes you blanch, not knowing which direction to look now. how is he so hard?

it should disgust you, the sight of his hand reaching down to grip his thick cock right in front of your face, but it doesn’t. your heart is still pounding as fast as ever, but your eyes flick back to his when he practically moans your name, leaning away from him a little. “at least pretend you’re not enjoying this”, he practically spits and it’s so demeaning, him looking at you like you’re the dirty one. you start to shake your head and he mockingly mimics you, scoffing when your eyes turn pleading.

much to your surprise, he takes a step, albeit small, away from you, arms folding across his chest again. your first instinct is to get up and just make a run for it, but your body is in no mood to comply. maybe it’s the fear, but a part of you think it’s from that funny feeling in your stomach, one that used to make you recoil but appears to not work now. you also don’t fully believe that he’ll just let you walk out now. it seems like he recognises this, speaking up when your eyes dart from the door to his body.

“stand up.”

your eyes glance between his like they’re searching for something behind the crazed look. your body follows that demand however, nervously picking yourself up from your safe spot on the bed. he motions with his finger for you to come closer, but when you hesitate, his hand closes around your neck faster than you can react. you’re now directly in front of his face, close enough to see every mole, every eyelash. when he reaches his arms out to you, you’re quick to move away but he’s even quicker, grabbing ahold of your waist tightly anyway, holding you in place.

noticing the tears pricking your eyes, jeno lips curve into a fake pout, leaning down to kiss at the corners of your eyes. “i bet you look so pretty when you cry.”

of course this is what was always going to happen, of course. but you knew that. why else did you come here? the countless number of nights you lay awake next to chenle, just wishing he would touch you like he used to instead of falling asleep silently. that unnerving feeling jeno always used to give you, like he was just waiting patiently for his chance to strike. this was an ugly situation that you had gotten yourself into knowingly, and jeno looked like he was getting bored of giving you chances.

with the knowledge that he was finally alone with you away from prying eyes, he smashes his lips on to yours, not stopping even when you cry out weakly against his lips, caging you in with his body as you try and fail to push him away.

you do this because it hits you that you are actively cheating on your boyfriend, even though you didn’t exactly initiate it. with the situation looking as compromising as it does, your mind gets cloudy as you try to think of how you could appear completely faultless. jeno is relentless still, using every gasp and whimper as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, knowing he’s won when he finally feels your arms relax a little against his chest.

when he pinches the skin of your ass tightly between his fingers as a kind of warning, you kiss him back somewhat reluctantly, but no one asks you to slip your tongue over his. he groans into your mouth when he feels your fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm, the hand that wasn’t holding you in place coming up to roughly grope one of your breasts. this makes you cry out feebly into the kiss, arching a little into his touch against your will when he slips the hand under your (technically, chenle’s) shirt to continue his ministrations.

the thought of chenle makes your eyes snap open immediately, freeing yourself of the heated kiss now that your head wasn’t being held in place. this is wrong. it’s like you have now come to your senses, but the look of determination in jeno’s eyes tells you that you’ve come to that realisation much too late. “jeno, we- i can’t, chenle-”

it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate you breaking the kiss, pinching your nipple harshly before removing his hand from under your shirt to instead grip your jaw tightly. “oh, now you wanna think about chenle?”, he seethes, forcing your face in front of his, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip. “when you came in here this late at night, practically begging me to fuck you?”

he’s sick, he’s twisted, you think, because you were certainly not begging him to fuck you, but you can’t deny that you came here searching for some kind of trouble. and now you got it.

this feels like it’s some kind of dream, though nightmare would be more fitting, one of those paralysing dreams where it takes immense effort to control your body.

you shake your head ‘no’ and jeno tuts in faux sympathy, an action that you hate to admit causes some heat to pool in your stomach. “let’s play a game. you like games, right?”

you’re sure you don’t want to play whatever game he has in mind, but you understand that he’s specking rhetorically, your opinion on the matter has no place in this world. “if i put my hand in your panties, and they’re in perfect condition, you can leave and forget this even happened”, he quips like you’re ever going to be able to forget this, smiling at you with no light in his eyes. “but…”

you were expecting the ‘but’ yet it still gives you chills, standing frozen in place when he runs his hand up and down your front lightly.

“if i find that someone’s ruined her panties for me…”, he trails off, stopping his hand at the waistband of your shorts, smirking when he feels your body tense. the heat of your body is basically radiating off you, and you know there’s no stopping him now when he looks up at you with a knowing smile. “i think i know what i’m gonna find.”

the next thing you know, you’re crying out against his chest, his arms holding your slackening body up as his fingers slip in and out of you easily. you knew you had lost this battle from the moment you knocked on his door, and jeno basks in his victory when he feels you clench around his fingers, licking and biting his away around your neck. “no marks, jeno, please”, you plead with him, eyes widening in fear at the thought of chenle seeing the evidence of your pathetic behaviour. “shut up and take what i’m giving you”, is the clear answer you receive along with a sharp slap to your exposed ass, your pants and underwear long gone as jeno works his fingers in you.

he bunches your shirt up above your breasts, releasing a whistle when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra. “you were just waiting for me, weren’t you, you fucking whore”, jeno growls, and you think he’s truly deluded himself into believing everything he says, and it’s starting to seep on to you. your body jolts when he slaps your bare cunt three times in a row, like he’s punishing you for making him do this. “coming here with no bra on, just so fucking tight and ready to take me.”

he’s talking to himself at this point, because none of the sounds coming out of your mouth are coherent. jeno’s hand is forceful and quick, lips attached to your nipple and drilling two fingers into you at an angle that has you dropping your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sinful noises you’re releasing. he sucks harshly at your nipple, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive tip, and you’re in tears, the sensation proving to be too much.

he’s pulling his fingers out of you and forcing you to your knees in a flash, but you’re just happy to be relieved of the torture administered to you by his hands and mouth, that made you cry out into his shoulder out of pain and pleasure. your joy is short lived however, when your eyes shoot open at the sensation of something warm and hard tapping against your cheek. and there it is, jeno’s impossibly hard cock mere centimetres away from your lips. “just made for sucking cock”, he notes, slapping his leaking dick against your teary face in a degrading manner.

he’s smoothing a hand down your head of hair, the action so heavily contradictory to his otherwise rough manhandling. “you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby?”. you think this scares you even more, because you have no idea what to expect, but he proves to be himself when he grips a handful of hair in each hand, using them like handlebars. when you let out a surprised yelp at the acute ache that results from him pulling on your hair with force, he enters your mouth fully, pulling back out when you gag. his eyes marvel at the string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips, rubbing the tears that slip from your eyes around your face with his leaking cock. “my dirty fucking cockslut, i knew you’d be like this.”

you’ve never felt dirtier, yet you can’t explain why you’re wet enough to feel the cold breeze that enters from jeno’s open window against your pussy, making you clench around nothing. gagging around his shaft for the third time because of how deep he sinks his cock down your throat, you bring a hand up to wrap around his base so as to try and control the pace of his motions. “there we go”, he hisses at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him and allows you to pump him a couple times, slipping only the tip of his dick in and out past your lips.

you keep up this pace, swirling your tongue around the tip and jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. though he lets you take charge for a short amount of time, he grows bored of your pace, opting to thrust his cock into your mouth, chuckling at your wide eyes. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, and you’re gonna take it”, he chides, slapping your cheek once making you whine around his dick, tears mixing in with the spit and cum coating your face. “so, tell me baby, chenle doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

if he’s actually expecting an answer, you can’t give him one, mouth so full of cock that your jaw hurts, trying your best to breathe through your nose. feigning boredom, he slips out of your mouth with a sound of annoyance for a moment, and sighs in disbelief when you unknowingly chase after if with you mouth, leaning down to grip your cheeks and squeeze them together.

“i used to listen to you getting fucked by him at night. but i haven’t heard you moan in ages, pretty”, your cheeks are squished together and you feel stupid, jeno’s gaze piercing. “always knew i could make better use of you. isn’t that right?”

you sniffle, attempting to clear your throat and blink, vision blurred by tears. he thinks he’s funny when he uses his grip on your jaw to move your head up and down like you’re nodding, but your body feels so fucked out that your head keeps going when he lets go, a shocked kind of laugh escaping his lips. “fuck…you really are a slut. do you ever think about anything that isn’t cock?”

more tears leak from your watery eyes when his degrading words do nothing but send shivers straight to your core, mouth falling open when he presses his tip against your puffy lips again. he moans uncharacteristically at the feeling and sight of his cock in your mouth, fucking into your mouth and treating it like your pussy. your throat grows tired of swallowing around it but he looks drunk off the sensation, so you lay your tongue flat against the underside of his hard cock and let him rut against it.

he’s absolutely brutal and relentless with his tempo, but nothing shocks you nor makes your pussy throb as much than when he leans down and squishes your cheeks together again, letting spit dribble from his mouth and fall where his cock and your mouth meet. everything about the action is filthy, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, hollowing your cheeks as his thrusts become more erratic.

you know jeno’s close when he starts muttering profanities under his breath, the hands gripping your hair controlling your movements and forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. “dirty little bitch”, he starts off breathlessly, seeing the drool running off your chin bringing him so close to the edge. “sucking my cock while nothing but a wall separates your boyfriend from us.”

your knees hurt and his words sting, but he pulls out, quickly wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it off right over your face. your mouth is still open and you’re sure you look insanely vulgar but it only encourages jeno, tapping his cock against your tongue repeatedly. “tell me”, he demands, spitting into his hand so he can spread the substance around your lips as you try and evade it. “tell me how much you love my cock.”

you’re repeating after him like a broken record, and broken you are, so fucked out and cock drunk that you need him to do your talking for you. “love your cock- need you-”, you’re babbling but he accepts it, groaning when he works his hand around himself while hovering over your mouth, finally thrusting it back between your lips. the way you readily go back to sucking him off makes his cock twitch, and within seconds, he’s spilling his seed down your throat.

as his dick softens, he slips it out of your mouth and for the umpteenth time, forces your lips open with his hand. he spits into your mouth, but you aren’t even surprised anymore, accepting it with hooded eyes. “swallow”, he orders you and you comply, sticking your tongue out to show him how well you’ve done. “that’s a good whore.”

you were maybe even about to reply when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of a toilet flushing, and your heart sinks– chenle is awake. you’re quick to attempt to scramble to your feet, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in that position for so long that they almost give out, not that it matters anyway; jeno has no intentions of letting you stand up. his hand is back in your hair again, making you hiss out of pain and doing a good job of holding you down, but you turn to look at him desperately, trying in vain to shake your head free. “please jeno- chenle can’t see, please-”

you’re a blubbering mess but jeno doesn’t care, simply wiping your tears from your face and cooing softly and before you know it, that unsettling feeling returns, your ears thudding with the sound of your heart. “chenle’s gonna see, baby”, he agrees in a sympathetic tone, thought nothing about him is soft or caring. “chenle’s gonna see his girlfriend getting stuffed full of his best friend’s cum, and he’s gonna see her enjoying it.”

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woahjo · 2 months

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The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else.

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost.

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment.

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire.

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear.

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters.

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell.

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse.

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent.

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight.

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula."

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these.

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity.

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent.

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands.

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed."

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs.

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him.

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you.

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?"

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit."

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane.

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid."

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess."

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now.

"Got a name?" he asks.

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?”

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling.

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?"

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat.

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am."

He nods his understanding.

"Come with me."

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both.

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed."

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost.

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?"

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising.

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to."

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?"

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase.

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it.

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step.

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees.

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you.

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation?

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!"

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room.

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him.

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned."

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost.

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while."

"Well, I'm back," he says.

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word.

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?"

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check."

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.”

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?"

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?"

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone."

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell?

"Sounds like a good deal," you say.

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock.

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki.

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..."

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him.

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you.

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.”

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting.

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't."

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation.

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?"

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day."

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen.

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this."

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it.

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can."

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months.

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up.

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit.

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks.

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words.

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.”

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together.

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.”

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away.

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”

You nod.

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.”

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric.

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet.

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks.

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them.

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant.

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing.

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge.

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring.

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark.

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back.

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit.

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway.

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment.

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now.

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner.

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner.

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?”

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.”

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.”

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group.

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows.

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder.

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.”

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina.

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.”

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning.

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues.

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.”

“Mhm,” Mina says.

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.”

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.”

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy.

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.”

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri.

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever.

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.”

You swallow thick and nod a little.

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.”

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree.

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from.

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink.

“Nothing really,” Mina says.

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly.

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?”

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask.

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?”

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides.

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.”

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude.

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?”

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond.

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.”

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting.

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.”

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds.

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.”

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in.

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us.

—

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation.

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop.

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it.

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough.

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago.

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize.

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.”

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.”

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.”

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?”

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.”

You recognize Katsuki’s voice.

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.”

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman.

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.”

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays.

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?”

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto.

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?”

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding.

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.”

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg.

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit.

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.”

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find.

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts.

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod.

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look.

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.”

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen.

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop.

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.”

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you.

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.”

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes.

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary.

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant.

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.”

You listen as you eat your crackers.

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.”

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat.

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.”

Mina laughs a little.

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.”

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“You’re really forthcoming with information.”

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers.

“Can you blame me?”

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked.

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.”

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you.

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop.

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder.

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down.

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl.

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it.

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper.

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.”

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely.

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering.

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners.

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at.

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now.

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly.

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask.

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from.

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back.

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it.

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it.

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from.

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it.

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him.

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up.

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones.

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward.

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind.

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks.

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.”

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion.

“Got everything?”

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it.

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers.

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread.

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well.

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out.

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe.

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way.

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk.

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation.

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says.

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?”

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?”

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again.

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something.

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?”

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm.

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world.

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.”

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way.

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.”

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb.

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days.

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any.

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be.

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source.

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet.

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.”

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice.

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.”

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.”

The group grows quiet for a moment.

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.”

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says.

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?”

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?”

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?”

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.”

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?”

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.”

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds.

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control.

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it.

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect?

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open.

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house.

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place.

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal.

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling.

—

“Need some help?” You say.

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck.

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?”

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him.

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably.

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?”

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.”

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work.

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly.

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch.

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively.

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.”

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?”

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others.

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.”

You tilt your head.

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is.

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.”

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little.

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-”

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.”

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side.

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun.

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable.

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that.

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character.

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow.

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task.

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket.

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.”

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out.

“You’re doing laundry.”

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?”

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.”

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit.

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.”

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive.

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick.

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering.

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence.

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace.

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.”

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid.

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little.

“Were you?”

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.”

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway.

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh.

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?”

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?”

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.”

“She’s pretty,” you say.

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.”

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little.

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant.

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?”

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused.

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little.

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.”

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food.

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him.

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into.

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you.

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both.

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position.

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet.

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.”

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope.

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.”

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes.

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier.

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house.

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel.

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better.

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator.

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?”

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in.

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #mha smut #bakugou fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #apocalypse au #tw.violence #tw.blood #tw.loss of identity #tw.derealization #tw.depersonalization #tw.exhaustion #cal.writing #char.bakugou

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taegularities · 2 years

Text

colour me in | jjk (m) | masterlist

Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader

➳ genre: fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut

➳ contents & warnings: artist/fuckboy!JK, annoying parents, endearing friends, lots of smut and fluff, misunderstandings; and more chapter specific warnings! | 18+

➳ current word count: 339.8k

➳ status: ongoing

➳ cmi’s mood: still with you and my you by Jungkook | collaborative playlist 🎶

⁂ CHAPTERS

✩ indicates parts relevant to the story | ❀ indicates fillers/drabbles (can be read as stand alones)

PART I: THE SEEDS

⤞ colour me in (9.8k) ✩ | lowkey by niki

"I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.” “Your what now?”

⤞ cmi: outlines (10.6k) ✩ | slow down by chase atlantic

“If I’m somewhat okay to you, angel... may I kiss you then?”

⤞ cmi: layers (18.4k) ✩ | stay (acoustic) by zedd & alessia cara

“I just want you to know that if I ever put you on a pedestal, it wouldn’t be because of any amount of money you own.”

⤞ cmi: too much (7.2k) ❀ | heavenly by cigarettes after sex

“I think if you wanted to… or tried hard enough, you could break my heart.” “...How?” “I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna find out.”

⤞ cmi: lights (25.2k) ✩ | ruin my life by zara larsson

“You just called me to tell me about the burn?” “Yeah. But I think... also to tell you that I miss you.”

⤞ cmi: the canvas (22.8k) ✩ | with love by christina grimmie

“You’re coloured in now for real, aren’t you?” “Feels more like you’re colouring me in.”

⤞ cmi: not enough (4k) ❀ | this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler

“Those New Year’s Eve parties bore me more than you’d know.” “Why did you come then?” “'Cause... I guess I knew you’d be here.”

PART II: THE GROWING

⤞ cmi: silhouettes (23.7k) ✩ | rumors by sabrina claudio & zayn / kiss me by ed sheeran

“We've played our parts in this fake thing. But I’m still here, with you. Why?”

⤞ cmi: undying roses (3.3k) ❀ | i can’t fall in love without you by zara larsson

“...You remembered?” “How could I not?”

⤞ cmi: monochrome (21.6k) ✩ | reflections by the neighbourhood

“You didn’t look at me even once, I–” “Because if I do… I’ll break.”

⤞ cmi: letters from the heart (17k) ✩ | jk pov | angels like you by miley cyrus

“And even with Nara, you didn’t behave like this.” “Like what?” “Like… Like you want to go back to how it was.”

⤞ cmi: unhindered (12.2k) ❀ | love on the brain by rihanna

“You came because you want me, and that’s driving you crazy.”

⤞ cmi: blurred (31.7k) ✩ | the only exception by paramore

“I hate that I’ve grown to crave you.”

⤞ cmi: blue (30.4k) ✩ | only love (acoustic) by pvris

“It’s easy to lose someone when you open up. It fucking scares me — and it’s never scared me as much as with you.”

⤞ cmi: seven (25k) ❀ | seven by jungkook

“I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”

⤞ cmi: redraft (25.3k) ✩ | i need u by yaeow

“You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore. And I admire you in every way.”

PART III: THE BLOSSOMING

⤞ cmi: translucent (35.8) ✩ | say you won’t let go by james arthur

“I’m not good with words, baby. And I don’t know how to ever properly verbalise something like this.”

⤞ cmi: blooming (15.6k) ✩ | daylight by taylor swift

“You excite me all the time.”

⤞ cmi: palette (??) ✩ | ?? | next!

. . .

and more!

⁂ BONUS

⤞ ask my character; colour me in edition ⤞ cmi theories 💭 | cmi drabble ideas 🖌 | cmi memes 😁 ⤞ character sheet 🧑🏻 ⤞ cmi timeline (spoilers ahead!!) 🕰 ⤞ cmi couple’s dream apartment, art by yaila 🤍 ⤞ cmi moodboard, made by ivi 🤍 ⤞ cmi audio commentary | commentary post 🎙

⤞ requested drabbles:

frat party; nara & jungkook jealousy; jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) day out; jungkook x reader jealousy #2 (read cmi5/the canvas first!); jungkook x reader perilla leaf/jealousy #3; jungkook x reader

⤞ FAQ:

When do you update? Randomly! Usually on Fridays around 8PM EST, but I don’t have a schedule for CMI. Whenever a part is done!

How many chapters will CMI have? I haven’t planned out every part yet, so I can’t say for sure. Definitely more than 10, though.

What inspired you to write CMI? Menacing pictures and my lovesick brain 🥲.

What role does Nara play? Jungkook talks about her in the fourth chapter, Lights. More to come later!

What do ‘part I’, ‘part II’ etc. in the masterpost mean? I explained (or tried to explain :D) it here, but the tl;dr version is that the story is divided into 3 arcs. One arc focuses on one main aspect of their relationship (e.g. arc 1 is the beginning; them getting closer).

✒︎ join the taglist! ♡

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korlkorl · 5 days

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YAY! i greatly enjoyed your shoujo au!!! it was amazing to read, ty for your contribution to humanity u r doing god's work frfr!!! would you be willing to write a hanahaki au for the twst second years? (preferably an angsty ending, but if you would prefer something happier, that's 100% fine with me!! i'm not picky!!) 🤭♥️

hanahaki + second years

hanahaki: a fictional disease caused by unrequited love in which you vomit blood and flower petals (flowers tend to relate to the person you) and although there is an option for treatment, you become numb to emotions. if you don’t get treatment, you die.

(I decided to add how the twst seconds years would treat the disease— will they get treatment or not?)

not very good angst warning under the cut!!!

riddle rosehearts

riddle grew up alone, mostly. every time he seeked for comfort, for company, it’ll fall apart. it would always go wrong, he’d lose everything the moment he got too greedy.

riddle still struggled to properly face trey and chen’ya after all those years, even if he got better with it. it was too embarrassing, too lame. he felt like a loser. a sore loser who deserved nothing. oh sevens, did the world have something against him?

things were looking on the bright side. he was out of his mother’s furious grip, he has more freedom than he ever did (even if he goes by strict rules) he could make as many friends as he liked and hang out with them as much as he liked.

he still preferred being private, however. he liked his friends, you included. they were more understanding of him than any other member of the school. although he’d twist and turn in bed when he thinks back to his overblot (how embarrassing of me! he thinks) he would still much prefer being with those who accepted him a long time ago.

you weren’t too big on sweets. you liked them, sure, but the more you ate the more your mouth felt itchy. knowing riddle’s sweet tooth, sometimes, you’d secretly pass your unfinished slice of cake or unfinished strawberry tart to him. riddle rosehearts, the strict, germaphobic, lowkey a dictator, heartily took it.

if it were anyone else, he’d just stare at them in disbelief. but the thought that you bit into the very sweet treat, it threw him over the moon. he’d read of indirect kisses before, in cheesy romances he read in his spare time. he doesn’t know if this is actually an indirect kiss, but don’t make fun of him, he’s still learning!

riddle has a lot of firsts, like the first time he tried that strawberry tart, or the first time he learned that playing with friends is fun, or the first time he ever overblotted, or the first time he fell in love.

you were his first love.

he turns red when alone, imagining your face and your laughter and your joy. your silly mishaps that he has no heart on lecturing you over, or your inability to understand some of the assignments. he finds all aspects of you cute— wonderful? he doesn’t know how to describe what he’d feeling, but it gets him all giddy.

he’s frustrated often, the way he started blushing violently when you ever get in close contact with him and how you always, always seem to be unaware of this. oblivion would send you to hell.

he’s been feeling quite nauseous lately, probably because of his failed attempts of clumsily sending you signals about how he feels.

it was to a point where he threw up… petals? petals…??????? oh my god, he’s throwing up petals!!!

riddle distinctively remembers reading about this during his first year, a disease of romance, love, and failure.

his heart sinks. maybe that’s why you failed to notice.

things never go his way, riddle thinks. he’s always feeling alone. every time he gets greedy for comfort, he loses it at the highest point of his life. when things are getting better, it takes turns for the worse. that’s why riddle likes to follow the rules.

by his third year, riddle’s back to being his strict, controlling prefect. except something’s different, he’s not as angry anymore.

that’s to be expected, though. ever since the surgery, riddle has never been the same.

ruggie bucchi

he has grown up to treasure everything he has.

ruggie isn’t as financially stable as others, he wasn’t lucky to be fortunate enough to get what he wants, whenever he wants.

so when he does get what he wants, ruggie makes sure to keep it close to his heart like it means everything. most of the time, it does mean everything, all of it. his life.

he hardly gives away his things (please don’t mention the kids at the slums, he’ll turn awfully shy.) and takes anything he’s given.

when you would give him the tiniest amount of food, he’d gladly snatch it from your hands and walk away snickering.

easy target for food is what you are, he thinks.

most of the time, when people give things away to him, ruggie just assumes that it’s unwanted. he’d take leftovers no problem. it’s only when you’d constantly hand things to him, always have something to give him and remember he exists, does he think you’re odd. I mean, he’s fine with taking the forgotten leftovers, but what could he possibly do when you don’t forget him?

watch ruggie clumsily fiddle around with his fingers, scanning the area for your presence. he has learned to not worry, as you always manage to come find him everyday without fail. he feels noticed.

he starts to crave for that attention.

ruggie treasures things. he keeps them close in his heart very carefully. but what would he do when you steal his heart instead? where can he hide all the things that mean everything to him?

somehow, he doesn’t mind. he wants you to see him more, ruggie bucchi, his true self.

the crave he has for you is for some odd reason, unmet. you’re oblivious to his shy antics, the way his ears turn flat when you walk away or the way he holds onto the hem of your shirt just for a second longer.

notice him.

when you see the way he unconsciously covers his mouth whenever you meet eyes with him, or the how he’s constantly going to the infirmary, will you finally notice him?

there’s a trail of your favourite flowers.

ruggie bucchi keeps all the special things close to his heart. when you take his heart away, how else can he express his pathetic, unrequited love? by coughing up a disease ruggie would’ve called embarrassing and shameful if it weren’t for you.

azul ashengrotto

azul is sensitive. he notices things way too easily. the tiny, insignificant details of someone and how they react, he will notice. that is how azul finds out how a person truly feels about him.

even if azul and that other person were considered close friends, azul would still notice the tiny little details that make him unlikable to them even just a little. it’s been a habit for as long as he could remember.

everyone always had something they disliked about azul. it was fine with him, that was normal. everyone dislikes everyone about anything. it’s not like it deters long lasting relationships. azul shrugs it off, it doesn’t bother him. it’s comforting, even, knowing what people think about him.

so it was obvious to say it was near-horrid when no matter how much time azul spent time with you, he could not spot anything off about you, anything that said you didn’t like him.

as much as azul notices how people act around him, he also notices other people. he knows all their flaws, their good sides and their bad sides. even if he couldn’t read your thoughts about him at all, he still expected to see something out of the norm about you, a bad trait, something that made you human.

to him, you had none.

were you god? how come you were near-perfect in his eyes? during cold months, the tips of your nose and ears would flush pink like a cute plum while azul turned embarrassingly red. he thought it was ugly and didn’t make him look good, but there nothing to prove that you thought the same. he couldn’t tell anything about you at all.

you were like a confusing puzzle piece to him. unsolvable, unreadable, flawless. perfect.

it took a while to adjust, but his unwavering respect for you turned into wavering thumps of his heart and dodging eyes. maybe you weren’t perfect after all, maybe azul just likes you.

the terrible urge to impress you grew stronger everyday.

he wanted to look as perfect as you did to him.

but how can he possibly ever look perfect,

when he is sick?

hovered over the toilet, azul clutched his chest as petals slid out of his mouth as if it were apart of him. well, it is apart of him, I guess. his love for you is one with him after all.

azul is sensitive, but he tries not to show it. not only is he good at catching the little things, he’s quick to anger or get hurt. the best he can do is hide them. so he hides the feeble emotion he calls love and comes back after winter break just as the same. he’s dutiful and runs his business like he normally would, and still hangs out with you time to time. he just feels more… empty? you’ll never know why he seems to be this way, no one really knows about the surgery.

jade leech

jade is often avoided by many people.

people find him creepy, odd, off-putting, unnerving… and more comments he hasn’t bothered to find out about.

those names don’t really bother him. in fact, he enjoys it. he loves watching people squirm in fear over something he says out of the blue. It’s exciting to watch a person try to decide if they should run away or not, unaware of jade’s capabilities.

he’s used to people avoiding him. for the sacrifice of entertainment, he isn’t all that popular. jade leech is used to it.

you were different, however.

your simply didn’t find him creepy. anything he said that was weird, you’d laugh it off and say something weird back too. jade’s height, creepy smile or the way he talks, it doesn’t seem to throw you off at all. you’d smile and wave at him when no one else dared to, you’d easily graze your skin against his and pay no mind, you’d approach him without second thoughts. It was like mutual trust, something jade has learned is difficult to find when you’re him.

so you meant everything. you were just as new and exciting, a pleasant surprise from the predicted fear everyone else has. you made him feel… seen for the first time in his life.

soon, everything you did was like a horror movie (weird analogy, I know. but it’s jade leech we’re talking about!) the intensity of when the killer would approach, or when the character is alone and vulnerable, his heart pumps like wildfire as he watches expectantly to see what the new surprise would be. his favourite feeling was when the victim would die or escape, the tightening in his chest releasing as he excitedly watches what would happen next. that was you. you were his favourite feeling.

he loves the way your eyebrows moved in expression when you talked, he loved when you sneezed and looked around expecting a “bless you,” he loved the odd ways you attempted to hold your mug comfortably and most of all, he loved you. he love you very, very much.

jade leech is used to all kinds of things. he’s used to people avoiding him, he’s used to his brother’s tendencies to groan and complain at everything, he’s used to azul’s creepy capitalist tactics.

what he’s not used to, however, are the bubbly, excited emotions he feels when he gets to experiment with his beloved mushrooms, the way you took over his thoughts like the plague and most of all, he wasn’t used to the flowers spilling out of his mouth.

this was odd, per say. jade knew of the hanahaki disease. he knew of all the downsides of it. but he never worried, because, how could he, jade fucking leech, ever love someone so pathetically?

he hoped that you’d love him back too. he oh-so deeply wished he was just as new and exciting to you as you were to him.

the blood meticulously dripped amongst his fingers, flower petals sticking to it alike. he laughed at himself. he’s always imagined that if he’d ever possibly get this disease, it’ll be flowers related to the water like lotuses or water lilies. he never thought he’d start coughing up such pathetic land-dweller flowers.

it was fine, though. jade would get used to it, eventually.

because after all, he’d rather die than stop loving you.

floyd leech

floyd is scary, he knows that. He’s quick to anger, moody, tall and intimidating. He’s doesn’t really care, though. He just does what he wants. He doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.

he likes fun surprises, something new, exciting. he thinks you meet that of that.

you’re not as scared as others, you respond to his pranks and squeezes positively, you respect his mood swings and he even caught a few glimpses of you defending him. he thinks you’re so cute!

it’s not odd to talk about the leech twins without mentioning you. floyd follows you every and jade just goes wherever floyd goes. it’s like a little trio.

you don’t get scared like others when he gets upset, return his squeezes (hesitatingly…he hugs tight!) and find him rather silly than scary.

jade thinks you were almost made for floyd, considering how well you two get along. although jade has been with floyd the longest, he can only tolerate to a certain point for you, however, it seemed to go endless. you were so much more patient with floyd then with anyone else. although floyd made be subtle about it, he’s grateful.

floyd adored you. you were everything he loves, for he loves you.

loved you.

loved? (love)

floyd started to ignore you. you’d tilt your head in confusion— you were upset. why would your best friend suddenly act like you weren’t even there? he wouldn’t even get mad, he’d just turn the other way.

it was only so long ago when floyd was hunched over in his bed from a terrible stomach ache. jade was horribly surprised to see bloody petals staining floyd’s bedsheets.

floyd never bothered with these things. for the first time in a while, he read a book out of his own volition to figure out what it was, only to rip the pages apart when he read what hanahaki was.

childishly declaring that he loves you no more, floyd would stay away from you like the plague, whilst secretly filling his system with flowers that will kill him for ever loving someone so deeply.

floyd is gonna disappear from your life completely eventually. you’d wonder what caused your best friend to suddenly hate you, while his family mourns over the loss of a loved one, as floyd refused treatment, because he foolishly decided to love you.

kalim al-asim

kalim grew up very sheltered in a loving family. The only concept of love he has is of his parents, who hold hands tightly and gush over the cutest things. they often warn him of the danger of love, and that he must be careful about the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

kalim, although clumsy and stupid, always kept that in the back of his mind.

you were like a breath of fresh morning air. growing up knowing very little, you were the newest, most brightest experience there was. kalim was sure you were the one. he was completely sure, why else would his heart thump so fast?

he’d hug you and hold your hand, give you gifts you could never even imagine having and tell you how much he appreciates you.

kalim hasn’t gone around to mouthing the word “love” yet, but he knows that you know anyway.

so when he started coughing up petals, jamil was quick to inform the al-asim family. kalim was confused, he didn’t understand. this love wasn’t unrequited, there was no way!

it doesn’t matter, though. he’s gonna continue loving you, you and him are gonna be happy together someday, eventually. maybe not in this universe.

kalim woke up in a hospital bed, his heart heavy.

he loves you. but he forgot what that feels like. he loved you. somehow.

jamil viper

jamil is smart. he’s smart and knows his worth. this is why he hates being in second, he knows he deserves so much more.

why does he always to have do worse than kalim? why does he always have to be second place? jamil is smart enough to know his potential. he also knows how much he’s holding himself back for the sake of hierarchy. he hates it.

it’s not a surprise when jamil finds himself unconsciously doing slower than certain people to appear normal. his main purpose in life is to not stand out, hide in the shadows, survive. like predator hiding from prey because if found, it will be caught by the silly humans.

you’re completely different from him, though. you’re as normal as a person can be, yet you aim to reach for the stars and hold it close to your heart. jamil understands your desire to outshine people all to well. he’s been in that spot, is in that spot. he pities you.

so he sticks around. he’d casually follow you, hang out whenever he can, help you with assignments so you can be the best version of yourself. he’s voraciously living through you. if you achieve your goals, that’s enough for him. at least he was apart of something meaningful for once.

it catches him off guard, however, when you encourage him to reach for his goals as well. it’s like you’re holding his hand and pull him amongst the galaxies to gently place your hands onto the hot touch of a star.

he knows that’s near impossible to reach, from the moment he was born, his life was chosen for him. but he thinks he could reach the small goals.

jamil secretly pats himself on the back for grazing against your skin for a second longer than usual, treat you to a nice meal or help you ace a test. he hopes that at least one of the goals he could reach in this lifetime is to be with you.

jamil is smart enough to know that he’s not just sick. not when blood trails down his chin to his arms, as flowers spill from inside him.

he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could have something for himself for once. not hold himself back, grasp tightly to what he wants the most.

jamil is smart enough to know his own worth. he’s definitely not worth enough to you.

silver

silver likes the little things. he enjoys the way birds chirp in the early morning, or the way the dandelion petals flow against the wind as he watches you scrunch your nose and blow on it. and then both of you guys start sneezing. ah, summer pollen, a reminiscent part of nature.

he loves the way you hold your pencil, the way you like to tie your shoelaces, how you cut your sandwiches. these small, unnoticeable traits catch his eye quite often, and he’s developed a fondness for them.

he’s a man of little words. silver doesn’t talk much, so when he thinks of these things, he never says it out loud. maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice how he felt about you.

he was so calming, and so gentle, it tugged at your heart when he’d smile softly and tilt his head ever so slightly so the cute birds could carefully place a beautiful flower crown on his head. he’s so princely, you think. a perfect knight in shining armour, loved even by the nature.

often you’d tell him how lucky any girl would be to be loved by him. your comments made silver hopeful.

silver is a man of little words, he likes to spend his days watching rather than showing. when he does finally speak his true thoughts, he genuine, honest. his words roll off his tongue so easily and smoothly, perfect fit for such a princely man (as you call him)

so when silver does finally open his mouth to speak, talk, say of what he felt in that very moment, he throat closed up. maybe he was nervous, maybe he was lame, because to both of your guy’s horror, blood spilled.

he didn’t really know what was happening. only when he felt the urge to throw up in the infirmary did he realize what was going on.

he was familiar with hanahaki. his father always told him stories of how fae would love so strongly to humans who hated them, that those who were unlucky would be induced to vomiting flowers.

when silver thought he was fae, just like his sweet old father, silver swore to himself that he’ll never love a human. now that he knows that he is, in fact, human, silver starts to doubt himself. maybe is, in a way, a fae.

it’s alright, though. silver is man of few words. he likes to watch rather than show. he doesn’t mind what could happen to him, he won’t tell anyone. he’ll just watch you from afar, filling his heart with melancholy love until he reaches his end. which might be soon, for he loves you so strongly.

a.n: my phone is on 6% as I type this I will edit this tomorrow morning when I wake up. sorry for replying so late I had tests coming up and I had to study!!! </3 thank you so much for the kind comments and I’ll catch up to requests soon! feel free leave any requests :3

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nextstopparis · 10 months

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i really just need good like mid to long length fix recs please i’m begging

hey bestie, i didnt know if you had any specific type of fic in mind or just length and what u consider mid so here are a few fics with 25k+ word counts and thats basically all they have in common🫶 also these are all more or less merthur im so sorry. i hope u find something new here!!!

Arthur, Sincerely by MerlinLikeTheBird (47.8k) (THE FLUFF IN THIS MADE ME CRY also its canon era)

To Begin Anew (need ao3 acc) by ohHeyThereBigBadWolf (27.7k) (ive read this like five times. i think about it constantly. canon divergence)

that lightning-strike feel by TheLurkingContessa (32.5k) (cmon merthur training with weapons together??? also canon era)

An Illusion of Sorts by lordvoldemortsnipple (133.7k) (ive also read this like 3 times which is sorta insane bc its 100k+ words omfg… modern au w magic)

Annum Inanis (The Empty Year) (need ao3 acc) by anonymintea (43.2k) (i DIED. canon era)

Charting Stars On A Stained Glass Ceiling by mornmeril (80k) (my note on ao3 under this is just OHMYGOD a bunch of times so. future au with magic)

a thimble of light for an acre of sky by celaenos (36.2k) (THIS IS NOT MERTHUR well theres like a hint of merthur at the very end but mostly its pendragon siblings and morgwen. I DIED. canon divergence)

Chasing Spring (ok TECHNICALLY this is a series but overall its 58.7k words so) by Gimli_s_Pickaxe (god merlin au do i really need to say anything else. canon era)

Keep the Magic Secret (73.5k) (i feel like i cant say I DIED again or else it’ll start losing its meaning to you but really i did. canon era)

M-RYS by mornmeril (123.2k) (ive also read this three times and was actually just craving a reread yesterday so. hmm. future au with magic)

We Pull These Jobs To Make A Little Money (No One Gets Hurt If They Don’t Act Funny) by leashy_bebes (48.9k) (this fic left me speechless all i could muster in my ao3 notes was “oh my god” not even capitalized like it shook me to my core. modern au)

You’ve Got My Heart, I’ve Got Your Hand by FervidAsAFlame (29.3k) (ive read this about five times it makrs me cry its so sweet i Love Them. modern au)

The Tournament of All Magicks by Cori Lannam (corilannam) (41.3k) (CMONNNN merlin fighting in a TOURNAMENT??? cmon. ohh craving a reread for this one too now… canon era)

The Future Soon by lady_ragnell (30.2k) (i loved this fic so so much. like theres just something about the vibe of it that im obsessed with. could also be the enemies to lovers thing. modern au with magic)

Sweeter Dreams by Tierfal (35.3k) (FREED VIVIAN OF MEN! i mean what more could i want. canon divergence)

Truth Is a Whisper by seperis (25k) (im being so serious go read everything by seperis. everything. GO. FIRST TINTAGEL bc that is my fav fic of all time probably but its 20k words so i couldnt put it here. GO!! theyre my fav author it took EVERYTHING not to rec all their fics. canon divergence)

Accidental Memory in the Case of Death by derryere (74.9k) (theres just something so. So. I DONT KNOW. overwhelming about them in this. its reincarnation au which might be why. one line made me cry)

The Ivy Crown by dayari (derryday) (252.2k) (ive read this three times. look at the word count. i will probably read it again. green knight au thing. theyre just. ohmygod)

Dower the Stars by RurouniHime (40.6k) (LISTEN. actually idek what i can say about this. except for the fact that its the PERFECT FIC. literally. its perfect. im especially in love with arthur and gwens friendship in this but anyway. canon divergence.)

#i sorta just assumed u meant merlin fics omg #BUT IF YOU WANT I ALSO HAVE A FEW KANEJ FICS!#also these are just a few from my bookmarks i have more too #ok well. can u believe this is th e first proper ask ive answered in like a year omg #happy pride xoxoxoxo #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic rec #ask

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scaranation · 1 year

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HELLOOO can u do one where scara and reader are best friends and scara likes reader but we’re superrrr oblivious and keeps complaining ab how we’re so alone to scara AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHENEVER WE START TALKING AB OUR NEW CRUSHES W HIM

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG shbdhfdhs but hear me out: reader being a super romantic person (like reading lots of ya novels and crushing on basically everyone ) AND SCARA TRYING TO ACT LIKE THE MALE LEADS READER LIKES BUT THEN READER STILL DOESNT REALISE SCARA’S FEELINGS 😭😭

༊*·˚ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, pining, modern high school AU

You were constantly dreaming about a distant love you found amongst the pages of your romance novels, flitting around to find your Prince Charming. Scaramouche, your best friend, always felt like the second male lead - perhaps, it was time for him to take matters into his own hands.

Scaramouche was quite a contrary character - volatile, and highly irritable. Most people were surprised to see he was capable of an emotion other than smugness or annoyance, much less being able to display something as absurd as love. And yet, it was apparent to everyone except the object of his affections that he held you in his gaze with a certain tenderness - a tenderness you never noticed.

You, being heavily into romance novels, would constantly gush to your best friend about everything that made your heart flutter. You romanticised anything and anyone, swooning over a new crush almost every week. You were in love with the idea of being in love, and yet, you never saw the love coming from the one closest to you.

“Maybe I’m just destined to be single forever…” You sighed, collapsing onto Scaramouche’s bed. The summer heat clung to you like a second skin, sweat seeping into your collar.

“Can you turn on the fan? It’s so hot in here.” You whined, briefly lifting your head to watch as Scaramouche walked over to switch on the air conditioning.

“Did you get rejected?” He tossed out the question jokingly, despite him hoping for a very specific response.

“I don’t even know anymore… Do you still have ice cream in the freezer?” You rolled over, pressing your face into the mattress with yet another long sigh.

“Do I look like your butler?” Scaramouche, your best friend - and the pretentious prick most people hated - scoffed, rolling his eyes but going to fetch ice cream anyway.

“You’re the best…” You mumbled. Scaramouche prodded your cheek with the cold bowl, holding in his smile at seeing you sit up - your hair messy from rolling around.

“So, what happened with crush number what? Sixteen?”

“I was going to confess, but they looked nervous for some reason and just left before I could say anything. If they really wanted to reject me, they should’ve at least heard me out.” You took in a spoonful of ice cream, pouting.

Scaramouche stared. Perhaps him glaring at that crush of yours every chance he got had really worked in driving them off.

“It’s such a shame, I really wanted my first kiss to be with them today. It’s such a nice idea, you know? Kissing at the lockers after a heartfelt teen confession.” You sighed dreamily.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” Scaramouche replied smoothly, although he felt his heartbeat shudder. You were always babbling about your romance novels, and so he’d read them too - memorised the important lines, studied the male leads’ behaviour. He’d quoted one just now, adrenaline leaping at the possibility you would’ve caught his subtle cue.

Your oblivious self did not. Or at least, you did - but didn’t.

“Oh, isn’t that from Gone with the Wind? I love that book! Did you finally read it?” You squealed excitedly.

“Yes, and it’s complete idiocy. Just as I expected.” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, looking away. His gaze flitted back to you quickly to scan for your reaction, his lips turning downwards at the lack of a blush on your face.

“Aww, did you enjoy it at least a little?”

“No, I should blame you for wasting my time.” Scaramouche feigned annoyance, but he didn't mind.

"It's such a good book though! How could you not?" You huffed, but changed the topic as your attention span stretched thin. Scaramouche chuckled at your behaviour, watching you in rapt attention as you continued rambling on about your love life.

He was conflicted. He enjoyed resting beside you and simply listening to you happily talk, but it filled him with sickening jealousy knowing you could make yourself love anyone but him.

When would you finally notice him?

The truth was, although Scaramouche was never one for literature, he’d somewhat enjoyed Gone with the Wind, in a roundabout way. He’d found himself in the alienated, self-proclaimed “dishonoured” character that was Rhett Butler. Despite the character’s cynical personality, he held an undying love for the heroine - although their relationship had failed due to his inability to express that love, and the heroine pining after another man. As much as Scaramouche hated to admit, it was a crude allegory of his current predicament. He was, irrevocably, the second male lead - either that, or a mere side character trapped forever in the friend zone. Your hyper-receptive behaviour towards others and obliviousness when it came to him was proof of that, and it was displayed now more clearly than ever.

Scaramouche’s hands clenched into fists as his usual mask of annoyance slipped into one of - miraculously - even deeper annoyance.

You’d found yourself infatuated with another person (or was it crush number nine for the second time?) and Scaramouche could barely contain his jealousy. He’d been dropping hints left and right, but for someone who spent most of their time immersed in romantic texts, you remained as ignorant as ever to his almost blatant advances. You’d been staring at your latest crush throughout class, barely even paying attention to what was going on.

"They're so dreamy..." You sighed, idly doodling the face of your aforementioned crush in the pages of your notebook.

"No, they're not. They stink, have you smelled them after gym?" Scaramouche prodded your side, drinking in the adorably irritated look on your face. His eyes roved over your every feature, wondering if one day they'd stretch into some semblance of the affection he so desperately craved from you.

"I can tolerate that."

"Oh yeah? What can't you tolerate, then?"

"Good question. They could punch me and I'd be thankful." You flopped onto the desk in a melodramatic display. If you punched Scaramouche, he'd probably be confused and concerned about your mood. Was it really love you felt for your crushes, or just a forced obsession?

"You're so childish." Scaramouche scoffed. He had a way of filtering his thoughts so the only thing that came out of his mouth were the mean parts - a habit he'd have to try and fix. Your beloved Mr Darcy would never behave so crudely.

"And you have a big mouth." You snapped, turning away to gaze at your crush again with exaggerated excitement.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

Scaramouche's fiery temper could surprisingly carry over to his love life. In a moment of impulsiveness, he'd (rather rudely) make sure you knew how he felt - as if he was entitled to your love. Before that however, he possessed some patience, so it'd taken a while for him to get to that point.

"When will someone ever like me back? If only real life could be like the books." You grumbled. Crush number seventeen had been a failure, and you moped about dejectedly.

“The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.” Scaramouche responded, looking you straight in the eye.

“The Illustrated too now? I’m proud, it seems you have been reading all my recommendations!” You perked up. Your gleeful expression made Scaramouche’s heart soften, but at the same time, a sense of irritation worked its way into his restless heart.

“You know, if you talked a bit more about what you read, I can find better books for you.” You added.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

“Oh, I love a good Jane Austen-”

“Stop it.” Scaramouche’s patience finally snapped and in an instant you found your back against the wall, his arm propped up beside you.

“I like you, okay? Like how your silly little book characters love each other. That’s how I feel, for you. I’m tired of having to spell it out, just so you can understand!” Scaramouche scowled. You stared in surprise.

“Are you… confessing to me right now?”

“Yes! For god’s sake, what else would this be?”

“So you meant those quotes, all this time?”

“Of course I did.” Scaramouche winced. He really was desperate - his former self would’ve laughed at him for doing something as self-deprecating as reciting romantic lines. Such frivolous behaviour, and yet he’d do it again, just for you.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed red with that expression Scaramouche had longed to see, your eyes suddenly uncertain to meet his gaze. How could you be so endearing, rendering him so enamoured with your mere existence? He felt himself falling for you even further, until you opened your mouth and promptly reminded him of your naivety.

“So… does that mean we’re like, dating now?” You asked.

For a romantic, you definitely were clueless.

“Yes, if you’d like.” Scaramouche replied.

You didn’t give a verbal answer, but Scaramouche felt it in the shy push of your hand against his as your fingers intertwined, the accepting way you leaned into him.

He should’ve found you annoying. He should’ve been extremely irritated long ago, but for some reason, there he was - secretly over the moon at finally being the main love interest of your life.

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httpknjoon · 7 months

Text

(re)starting over again | kth; 11

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.8k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | AAAAND WE'RE BACK! it's been a month since the last update! consider this as a new season for mc and tae :)) u might find this chapter a little fast-paced or not idk.. let me know ur thoughts! enjoy reading <;3 ps. sorry for the errors!

main masterlist | series masterlist

A couple of years passed, two to be exact, and a lot of things happened. The bakery became more crowded. It was renovated and had a larger space instead of moving the entire bakery to another place. They began hiring extra help, usually part-time working students who used to be customers in the shop too.

Also, turns out that Jimin has a kid. Taehyung met Jihoon just a week after his best friend learned about his existence. Jihoon is a carbon copy of his dad, Taehyung thought. His eyes disappear when he smiles. Now, they have a little baker running around the kitchen usually on weekends.

Aside from those changes, Taehyung now lives in a studio apartment just a five-minute walk away from the bakery. He moved in just weeks after you left. The said apartment is not that big, just enough for him to rest in after work. Jimin commented that he treats that place like a hotel since Taehyung didn’t really personalize it to make the ambiance like a home. The whole place was plain, not even considered minimalist. Just plain. The walls were untouched. It was off-white when Taehyung came and it remains the same now. He didn’t really bother to invest anything in the place.

The house you two bought and lived in is still being taken care of. By him. Taehyung cleans up there once a week, just in case you reach out to visit home again and maybe talk about what to do with it. And when he feels like it, which is almost rare, he sleeps on the couch in the living room. He never really entered the guest room, which became your bedroom after the accident, except the time he got home after Jisoo and Namjoon’s wedding. That room was spotless, just like how you left it. The only things you left that night were on your vanity table; your house keys, the vintage pearl ring he bought you back in the flea market, and a folded paper.

The letter says, “Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.”

He never painted the walls with another color as he found the shade of blue that spreads around the house perfect. He never bought any furniture and still kept the same ones you had. He thought it fit the theme of the house and his preference. And yes, the picture frames show the same photos they originally had. It felt home that way for him. But he chose to move to the apartment because he always felt like he was missing something. The house is cozy and comfortable. But whenever he tries to lie on supposedly his bed, it feels empty. Once, he tried playing jazz music around the house, but it just got lonelier so he turned it off and just continued cleaning.

But he did try to keep up and look back at the things he forgot through his friends and the things he found at the house. Jimin, Namjoon, and sometimes Jisoo were patient with his questions. Jisoo, your best friend, was understandably distant from him at first after you went away. But she adds details to the stories Namjoon tells and later, became amiable with him. Jimin’s mom still looks after him and brings him food when she visits the city. There were a few times she mentioned Taehyung’s mother but he didn’t really care about her. So he ignores it.

“You know, you’re a handsome man. Don’t you have any lady?”

One of their common customer, a man in his seventies once asked him. It was not the first time someone asked him such a thing. He always shakes his head with a smile as an answer. It would lead later with an offer to meet someone they know. Taehyung would shyly and kindly decline these offers, saying he really doesn’t feel like dating for now. It’s true. The idea of him dating someone else felt wrong. It was like his own body rejected the idea as he felt uneasy with that thought.

“So, it’s that time of the year.”

Taehyung was pulling his third pan of cheesecake out of the hot oven with his oven gloves when he heard Ava, their longtime part-time staff, say that. She sounded amused but not surprised. He looked up and saw her leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed. She had a smug smile on her face.

“I swear, you should just declare this particular day as Cheesecake and Banana Bread Day just to make it official,” she added, teasing.

Taehyung looked at her, unimpressed, “It’s selling. In fact, my cheesecakes are one of our best sellers here… What are you doing here anyway? Go back to the front.”

He scolds her, she just rolled her eyes, unbothered. Ava was one of the students who knew Taehyung even before his accident. She went from being a loyal customer to a reliable staff of the shop. She has been enjoying the pastries in the shop ever since she was twelve and now, sixteen, she also enjoys getting into small banters with her older bosses. She is usually candid, and not shy to share her thoughts. Taehyung sees her as a little sister most time.

Given that she began working here after you left, Ava doesn’t really have an idea why Taehyung bakes a few batches of cheesecake and banana loaves on this specific date. She doesn’t know you and that you are celebrating your birthday today. Taehyung learned about that fact after his phone notified him weeks after you went. Since then, he has baked your favorites on your special day.

It’s the third time now. It’s probably a slim chance but he hoped to see you around the bakeshop, enjoying pastries. But so far, he hasn’t seen you around. In fact, he hadn’t even heard from you ever since that night. He thought he saw you a year ago in the subway when he came to Incheon to go sightseeing, but he lost you before he could take a second glance. He didn’t know where you moved since he respects your space but he wondered if you really moved that far. He wonders about you every now and then.

Jisoo posted a short clip in her Instagram Stories months ago. It’s just a clip of a long trail and he swore he heard you in the background noise of that clip, telling your best friend how tired you are from hiking. Then, the clip ended.

“Not because it’s best selling you would make a ton of it. It’s something about demand and supply– I don’t know,” she conceded, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “Anyway, I’m here because someone called on the phone, asking for you.”

Taehyung’s heart stopped for a second. His hopes almost blasted out of his soul but he tried to stay calm before asking Ava, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s a woman. They said they want to specifically talk to you.” she replied, unaware that the man in front of him was holding his breath. She continued, “They are actually waiting on call right now.”

Taehyung almost sprinted to the front desk of the shop. Still in his mint green oven gloves, he reached for the telephone. His heart is beating fast while his gut is twisting tight. He paused when he realized he had nothing to say. He doesn’t know what to say if it’s you. Are you going to talk about the house? Should he greet you with Happy Birthday first and offer you your favorite cheesecake? Maybe you won’t like– Stop.

Taehyung took a deep breath before exhaling. He spoke, “Hello, this is Kim Taehyung, co-owner of The Sweet Spot. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi.”

His heart dropped. Okay, relax. He told himself. It’s not you.

There were nights when Taehyung would find himself awake. And tonight is one of those nights. He just lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. He always had trouble falling asleep, maybe a side effect of his accident. He doesn’t know anymore. But he knows that it makes his head go crazy with random thoughts when times like this happen. And now, he thought of something.

That’s when he picked up his phone and keys, along with his coat. He drove away from his apartment.

The bell above the door rang when he entered the convenience store to pick up a few beers and chips. His cold hands stayed in his coat’s pockets as he looked around the store, waiting for the clerk to scan his stuff. Just when the worker was about to say the prince, the bell clung again.

“No, wait. I’m just really hungry. Wait for me… Yes, I have money here.”

Everything went quiet and suddenly all that he could hear was that voice. Your voice. He’s sure of that. He looked back and saw a woman’s back going into one of the aisles. His heart raced once again. You’re here?

“Dude, you okay?” the tired clerk asked, looking at him with heavy bags under his eyes.

Taehyung looked at him, and broke out of his headspace, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.”

He pulled out his cash and paid. He can still hear your voice like you were talking with someone on your phone.

“Do you want anything– Oh, the honey-butter chips I want ran out of stock.”

Taehyung looked at the chips in his hand. He looked at the clerk who also looked at him like they understood each other without saying anything. Taehyung placed the chip back on the counter.

“Just give this to the girl,” he whispered before turning his back.

He didn’t look back. A cool blow of wind brushed on his face when he walked out the door. For a second, he inhaled and exhaled again to calm his nerves. He got in his car, putting the pack of beer on the other seat. As he started the car, his eyes landed on the side mirror.

Yes, it’s you. Definitely.

You just walked out of the same store, still on your phone, as you walked away grinning with your honey butter chips. You walked on the other end of the pathwalk. Taehyung pursed his lips and drove away.

His lips remained sealed but his head was exploding with questions. That was the closest he had seen you since the night you said goodbye. How are you? Why are you in the city? Did you live around here? It can’t be. Jisoo told him you left the hospital you used to work at.

Instead of driving back to his apartment, Taehyung ended up parking in front of your deserted house. He had his beer with him as he turned the key on the doorknob. He stepped into the said home feeling colder even though he still hadn’t removed his coat. He placed the drink on the center table in the living room and plugged in the TV for background noise. He put on a random show, which happens to be FRIENDS.

Opening a can, he sat on the couch, pulling a couple of books he left under the same table. Photo albums and scrapbooks. You never told him such things exist in here, he just found them after cleaning around the house. It was personalized by you and him. He could tell by the design and handwritten captions.

Almost everything was documented through photos and other knick knacks like receipts from a movie you two saw together. Browsing through the pages of it, it felt like looking at other people’s relationships even though he was in the photos himself. In one of the photos, he saw himself with a camera. He didn’t even know he had one. He tried searching around the house for it but he never found it.

You had more solo portraits in the said books than him. He figured out why. Maybe he really loved capturing you as his subject. You looked the same in every picture: happy and in love. Most of your pictures were candid, taken without you knowing. Then, a handwritten date by him will be seen below it. Each photo was adorable. Some are just random ones. You were brushing your teeth or showing off your colorful scrubs (which was written in the caption: BOUGHT HER YELLOW DUCKIES SCRUBS I THINK SHE LIKES IT).

Taehyung spend his sleepless nights like this, looking back at what he missed. He read through articles before that the possibility of getting his memories back is a hit or miss. So he learned to just go on and maybe accept how things became. He tries to move forward at the same time he tries to look back. It’s quite confusing sometimes.

IT’S HER… I’M SURE

That was the caption in one photo of you dating just weeks after you two moved into this house. In the picture, your back was turned as you sat in front of your vanity table. You can be seen fixing your hair while looking at your reflection. Taehyung’s eyebrow raised with the caption. He wondered what it meant. He turned the page to the next one but was greeted with nothing but a blank page. Turns out, that was the most recent one.

“The main branch of their restaurant is somewhere in Incheon. I’ll send you the address after the call.”

Taehyung listened to Jimin through a loudspeaker call. His hair is still damp from a shower. Standing in front of the mirror, he compares two coats that would suit the rest of his outfit. He felt the need to look presentable tonight.

“You will meet the owner herself, Ashley. She said you can just introduce yourself to the host and he’ll lead you to your table… Ava kept the samples in the shop. She said she put them in different Tupperware so you can spot it right away.” Jimin instructed.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard his best friend sigh on the other line, “I’m sorry for the short notice, Tae. I totally forgot Jihoon will be staying with me tonight.”

Tonight, Taehyung will be meeting a special client. It’s the one who called a couple of weeks ago, during your birthday. it‘s a big restaurant that is planning to put the bakeshop’s products on their menu for dessert. Specifically, the cakes. The head chef was the one who brought up their product to the owner, whom he will meet now. Jimin initially agreed to meet the said client but his co-parenting schedule had some shifts. Just an hour ago, Taehyung learned he’d be the one meeting the client. It’s not like he had plans anyway. So, he immediately prepared himself.

After picking the clothes, Taehyung blow-dried and brushed his hair. His best friend sent the main address minutes later and so he left his apartment. He first drove by the shop, which closed a little earlier today. A lot of cakes were made for sample. It includes Jimin’s Carrot Cake, his own cheesecake, and six other more. Taehyung left with a brown bag of the samples.

His fingers tapped with the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove his way to the restaurant. It was a peaceful night on the road.

This will be the first time Taehyung will be going back to Incheon since that time he went sightseeing. He stayed there for just three days before, it was days after his phone notified him about your supposedly fifth anniversary. His emotions were all over the place because of the aftermath and the demanding work in the bakeshop around that time. So he asked Jimin for a very short break. He still hasn’t got a car then so he took the subway throughout the whole time. It was during his last day there when he saw a glimpse of you in the crowded subways of that city. He remembered you were in your scrubs, your hair was cleanly kept in a low bun, and you were walking opposite of his direction. Then, he blinked. You were gone in the crowded place.

“Good evening, sir.”

Almost forty minutes later, Taehyung arrived at the restaurant, Starry Night. He was greeted by the host as he entered the elegant place. It has a great ambiance, romantic. It is a fine-dining restaurant and seems like a perfect spot for dinner dates.

He said his name when he was asked. And while the man looked down at his guest list, Taehyung’s eyes traveled around the place. And not even a minute in, his eyes stopped at someone who he felt had been staring at him.

His eyes widened at the sight. A stunning woman, clad in a black dress, stares back at him with surprise. His mouth ran dry, he had to gulp. Now, he’s sure. He’s sure.

It’s you.

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RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @zzztaegizz @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise @kiwuki @tannies-luv @fuckthinking @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18

PERMANENT TAGLIST

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#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

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justalittlebitbored · 4 months

Text

late nights - remus lupin

willow tree: part three excerpt

pairing/au: marauders era, remus lupin x reader

summary: you wake up to knocking on your window in the middle of the night on the night of the full moon. who else could it be but your werewolf best friend covered in blood.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, sadness, fluff, friends to lovers, childhood best friends to lovers. no use of y/n.

wc: 2.3k

a/n: RIGHT, this is an excerpt from my series willow tree, I wrote this in May when I was properly writing and sadly I started this series and I love it so much but I honestly don’t have the effort to keep writing. This scene however is such a pure wholesome scene and I’m sure those who have read the series will love it but I also think it can be a really good oneshot concept so enjoy!!!

To those who haven’t read willow tree, I don’t think u need too to understand this but I shall give context in case:

Reader and remus = besties. Reader realises she loves him, ‘unrequited’ love high jinks ensue, so she distances herself a little bit. Remus hasn’t come to reader during a full moon in a while as the marauders has started to care for him, in this one shit he comes to reader instead of

series masterlist main masterlist

Hearing a loud banging noise at your window was not quite the surprise you were expecting in the middle of the night.

Your curtains were closed but the motion sent them fluttering towards you. A million thoughts crossed your mind. What if someone was breaking in to rob you, what if you-

You heard a loud groan and then a vague, deep voice said your name. Was that Remus? Your name was said a bit louder this time. Yup that was definitely Remus. What on earth would he be doing here at this time of night?

You ran to the window and pulled the curtains open.

His bloodied body hung outside, his face leaning again the window ledge. Crap. Your fingers pulled the latch open before you could process your actions, the breeze caused the window to fly inwards nearly hitting you in the face.

"Remus!"

You grabbed his hands and attempted to drag his heavy body through the window. With his help you managed to pull him in. His body immediately slumped against yours and your knees nearly buckled under his weight. He was definitely heavier since the last time he had climbed through that window.

Managing to drag his body over to the bed, you led him down as gently as you could.

"Fuck. Remus what happened?"

Whilst running to close the window you nearly tripped on your clothes that you had taken off earlier that night and couldn't be bothered to put in your wash basket and nearly slammed your head on the radiator. Managing to close the window you immediately turned around and headed towards the bed and knelt down to grab the first aid kit that you were sure was under there somewhere.

"Come on you're here somewhere I know you are."

Although pleading with the first aid kit probably didn't do much it was more of a way to calm you down.

The boy on the bed let out a large groan and you could feel the sweat on the back of your neck begin to form and your hands beginning to clam up. Your fingers brushed against something hard. Aha, you found it. You curled your fingers around the handle and pulled it out whilst quickly standing up and placing it on the bed.

Remus let out a large groan and his arms curled around his middle as he looked like he was writhing in pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You had forgotten it was a full moon, you usually kept track of it but this month you must have forgotten, this wasn't a job you had done in a long time, the marauders mainly looked after him now. You hadn't seen him on a full moon in nearly two years except this one time in sixth year where he had ended outside your dorm under the willow tree by your window. By the time you had gotten out of bed and looked outside his friends were carrying him away.

Although James did shout a goodbye at you waving his hands fervently, apologising loudly.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." You hadn't done this in a long time and were quite out of practice. He had long deep gashes on his chest and shallower ones on his arms.

What do I do? What did he want me to do? Fuck.

"Remus, I don't know what to do. What do I do?" You asked, your hands shaking as your hovered them above his abdomen.

"I trust you. Just-" He grunted loudly. "-clean me up or something." He said loudly as he began to turn over onto his side.

"Okay? Okay. Right, should be easy enough?" You let out a long breath.

It's fine, it's going to be fine, you done this plenty of times before. What's the difference between now and then.

You quickly got to work cleaning his wounds with a wet rag, apologising as you went along every time he groaned.

You apologised a whole lot more when you had to apply hydrogen peroxide so that it didn't get infected. He let out cries of pain and your eyes stung with tears, you hated seeing him this way.

After quickly working for about twenty minutes you were finally finished. You walked over to your chest of drawers and pulled out a new t shirt and joggers for him. They were his that he had left round at yours before during movie nights. You would help him put the shirt on but you weren't so sure about the trousers, so you decided to leave those on the chair by your desk for now in case he had enough energy to get up and change into them himself.

"Hey, Remus." His eyes opened and he blinked at you softly so you continued. "Hi. Can you sit up for me for a moment so I can put this on you?" His attention was drawn to the top in your hands, he shuffled forward to edge of your bed and you attempted to get him into it.

His head leaned against your chest as he weakly lifted his arms up, eventually after a struggle you managed to get him in it.

He slumped back and you stood awkwardly at the side of your bed, you didn't know what to do now.

You let out a big breath you didn't realise you were holding in as your eyes began to close from how tired you were. You began to walk away to sit in your chair before you heard Remus call your name.

"Stay."

"I'm sorry?" You were confused.

"Can you stay? With me... in the bed." You blinked.

"Please?" He said with a tired chuckle. You could see him give you a meek smile, he looked exhausted, dark circles lining his eyes.

"Sure, yeah. Okay."

You slowly walked towards the bed unsure of where to go. He moved forward, opening a space behind him. You slowly climbed in, your back leaning again the pillow. He was sat up against the wall obviously in pain.

Hesitating for a moment, you placed your hand in his limp one and gently tugged, pulling him towards you.

You hoped he wouldn't say no or look at you funny.

Without saying anything he instantly fell forward, his head on your chest. You could feel his body immediately deflate. You hadn't done this in a long time; before fifth year this would happen every full moon, it was almost a ritual. You would clean him up and then he would lay his head on your chest and you both would cuddle until morning.

"I'm sorry. I don't like it when you see me like this." The words gently left his mouth. Your hand instantly flew to the back of his head, your fingers scratching at his head in a comforting motion. It was instinctual and you didn't realise you had done this until he left let out a soft whimper.

"It's okay, I don't mind." You whispered.

"I do. You don't need this burden on your shoulders." He said with a harsh tone, not directed at you though, you could tell he was aiming it at himselt.

"Hey, my shoulders are yours to use." You smiled softly at him. "Listen to me okay, I don't mind. I would rather you come to me and be safe than lie out there in those woods by yourself. Anytime you need me I will be there."

A harsh exhale left his mouth.

"Thank you. I don't know what I would've done tonight without you." He looked up at me.

You had lied before, saying you had never seen anything as beautiful as the sunset. You had, and you were looking into them right now, Remus' deep golden brown eyes.

For a moment you think he's going to kiss you. His eyes dart to your lips before flickering up to your eyes again. Before he could do anything he smiles, almost sadly before resting his head on you, his head eyes dart to your lips before flickering up to your eyes again. Before he could do anything he smiles, almost sadly before resting his head on you, his head nuzzling against you chest.

"You were asleep, I'm sorry I woke you." He apologised.

"It's okay, I was awake." You lied, you were asleep but he already felt guilty enough you didn't want to make him feel any worse. He said okay quietly into your chest. After a couple minutes of comfortable silence he spoke again.

"I've missed you." He whispered into your chest.

You hands paused for a moment from its action of scratching the back of his head before promptly continuing.

"I'm right here."

He whispered again in a low voice. "I know, I've just missed you."

You didn't know how to respond to that so you just kept running your hands through his hair and after a while his breathing became steady and you assumed he'd fallen asleep.

You had missed him too, even with all of this weird tension and distance. You had missed him too. Your birthday was the only time recently where things had felt normal.

The way you were both led on your bed was anything but platonic but you didn't mind, he hadn't been this close to you in so long. You leant down and pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before leaning your head backward with a loud sigh. Eventually your eyes began to droop and before you knew it you had fallen asleep too.

You woke up in the morning to Remus shaking you softly. Your eyes fluttered open in confusion as your vision began to clear.

"Hi sweetheart." He smiled at you gently. "I need to go, thank you for looking after me. I'll see you later today okay."

Your brain wasn't functioning and your groggy mind couldn't bring you to do anything but produce a soft whimper, you were not a morning person.

His hand cupped your cheek and you leant into it, your lips almost brushing his palm in a soft kiss, whilst his other hand brushed your hair out of your eyes gently. Although you were in a state you could still make out the soft smile he gave you. He let out a shaky breath before leaning down and pressing lingering kiss against your forehead.

He moved away towards your window, you turned to your side to watch him turn around and look at you again for a long moment before turning and climbing out the window. You heard a soft click soon after.

You wish you had more time to think about what had happened but you were too tired to think and the next thing you knew you were out like a light.

After god knows how long your body jolted upright.

Remus was here last night, right? You looked to the side where a bloody rag led on your bedside table along with an opened first aid kit. He was here last night, you hadn't imagined it so you certainly didn't imagine him waking you up to say goodbye.

He called you sweetheart. God, he called you sweetheart. A small involuntary smile was on your face as you pushed your covers away and got out of bed. Your mouth was dry and you desperately need a glass of water so you walked out of your room with a stupid smile on your face and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop.

You walked into the kitchen hoping to get a glass of water when you saw Lily sat at the counter eating some toast. Your quietly wished her a good morning as you headed towards the cupboard to grab a glass.

"What were all those sounds last night?" Lily asked.

You froze, you didn't know how to approach this really since you knew that she would read into this situation and give it a deeper meaning and you really couldn't be asked for that right now.

You slowly turned around, grabbing a glass leaving the forefront of your mind.

"Umm... nothing it was just-" She raised her eyebrows and you knew there was no point in lying about it.

"It was Remus. It was the full moon last night and he just turned up, I didn't know what to do so I just cleaned him up."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

"Oh. So is he still here or?" She questioned, an innocent look on her face.

"No. He's gone now."

She hummed. "So did you guys-"

"No!" You exclaimed cutting her off. "Nothing happened. Don't look at me like that Lily. Nothing happened, it was just one friend patching up another friend."

You really thought that she was going to ask more questions but she didn't say much but look at you with a knowing smile. You didn't know what game she was playing at, but you were glad she wasn't asking any questions.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

You cleared your throat. "Right I should probably go and shower, you know aet ready for the day."

"Okaaay."

You turned around and hurried to your room, she knew what she was doing. If you spent a moment longer with you she would work her magic and make you spill all of your feelings to her. She was weirdly good at that.

You slammed your door shut and stood with your back pressed to it as you took a deep breath.

Okay.

enjoy yall!

taglist:

@diorgirl444 @starkluvrr @theweasleyskettle @milkteeboba @blakeblue01 @starqwerty20 @iluvfetuszarry @raindropstearsandtea @katsuniverse @middle-of-the-earth @speedunkle @mypeace4 @garfieldsladybird @welnasynchbest @marauders-eras @4rt3m1ss @poetsneil @stained-tea-cup @aki-chan-20 @hawkinsavclub1983 @spxcekru @stars-havefallen @hisparentsgallerryy @st4r-girl-official @po55um @taylorann2013 @potseluymenya @oloorado @poetrypirate @solnare @xxvelvetxxxx @ireneop

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thedvilsinthedetails · 2 months

Text

rosekiller microfic band au pt3

heyyy pt3 is here yayyy

I haven’t rlly read it thru again and I’m feeling pretty tired today so if there’s a quality dip that’s why but also we have some nice Barty POV which I find easier to write sooo balances out ig

also we have some Marlene in this one (u can thank @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl because I wasn’t gonna put her in but she loves Marls [not that I don’t] to and yk she’s the boss so 🫡🫡🫡 Marlene is in the fic and I’m actually glad bc I love her part in this)

oh also Reg is autistic in this [in my mind] so when I mention him wearing headphones it’s bc he wears headphones on public transport/often in public/during gigs to help block noise <3

oh also all the skittles have matching nail polish and little tattoos on their wrists (idk if I actually mention it here but just so u have it in ur mind)

Tags for ppl that (I think?) wanted to be tagged <3 : @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @picklerab23 @lady-stardust-incarnate @always-reading @no-names-work @y0url0verb0y @2bluetwo85 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lulublack90 @nikholascrow (please please do tell me if you don’t want to be tagged bc idm and obviously won’t be upset but I just don’t want to tag ppl that don’t actually want to be tagged so I’m just sort of guessing by who commented last time so um yeah)

Link to previous part

link to part one

link to next part

(Cw: lil bit of homophobia in here sorry)

***

By the time the train arrived at their station both Barty and Evan had dozed off. Arms wrapping around each other, bodies curled into one another like a jigsaw puzzle. Evan didn’t wake up as gently as he fell asleep though because he was woken by Regulus kicking his seat aggressively. Once he finally opened his eyes he turned to face him. He was wearing his headphones, big and black originally but covered in splodges of spray paint from when Barty had offered to ‘customise‘ them for Regulus. He’d pushed them back though, now that the majority of people has filtered out of the little compartment.

“Hurry up and get your stuff.”

Regulus ordered before following Pandora and Dorcas who had already left.

Evan turned and tapped Barty gently to wake him up. Then when that didn’t work he shook him till he opened his eyes with a start.

It took Barty a moment to realise where he was but even once he did he just grumbled.

“Ev don’t make me get up, please.”

He pouted, eyes wide and dilated in some kind of cheap attempt at cuteness.

“Come on you know you have to get up baby- Barty!”

Evan gaped, realising his mistake just too late. A slip of the tongue and he’d gone and fucked everything up.

“D’you just call me baby?”

A grin spread on Barty’s face and he poked Evan gently and laughed.

“You’ve been single too long Rosier.”

“You- you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad, baby?”

Barty winked, clicking his tongue as he got up and shuffled past Evan with a wicked smirk.

•••

Barty was going insane.

Evan had called him baby. Baby. And fuck his reaction had been visceral. But like…in a good way? It made him want to bite down on something hard but that thing was the muscles on Evan’s arms. Or bruise something but that thing was Evan’s neck…with a hickey or two.

Something about the way it had slipped out so naturally, so warmly. It just made Barty’s heart flutter. Made him want to grab Evan and shake the sense out of him enough to like Barty. Something along the lines of ‘kiss me, ruin me, dear God I’m begging you.’ Ah well, nothing you can’t really do about these kinds of situations except get on with it. Lying was something Barty had gotten very good at from a young age and not stopped since. Some might call it acting but those were the types of people who were just trying to convince themselves they were good and moral. Barty didn’t really care enough about that kind of stuff to bother. White lies this and how it contrasts with malicious lies that, like someone trying to section off a gradient in two. You can’t, it’s all the same monochrome blur in the end.

Barty was lost in this little daydream when he heard Pandora roar.

“WHAT?!”

Now Pandora didn’t often roar, maybe laugh maniacally every now and then yes, but yell? Scream? That was never her type of thing. Save for some rare occasions that Barty could probably count on one hand. Pandora yelling meant it was time to stop daydreaming about Evan’s curls or Evan’s hands with their chipped green nail polish or Evan’s fucking tight t shirts. Yeah time to stop thinking about that and listen up. So he did.

“I do not intend to offend anyone by it.”

Riddle raised his hands up defensively with a cheap sleazy smile that immediately made Barty dislike him.

“I’m just saying that this venue prides itself on a distinct lack of…untoward behaviour. It’s not a massive deal, I think your lead and backup singers can use separate microphones for two nights of a six month tour.

“What the fuck man?”

Barty stepped forward immediately hands curling into fists, Riddle was pretty short, he could definitely take him if that’s what it came to.

“Barty stop, that isn’t the right way to solve things. Come on let’s just- let’s come back later ok? See if we can talk to someone else, not this piece of shit.”

Dorcas spat out the last three words as she pulled Barty back to the group.

He was going to argue till he felt Evan put a hand on his shoulder, instead he just left Evan guide him away after the rest of the group.

“We’ll figure it out ok?”

“Fucking- Ev we can’t play there. They’re fucking homophobic.”

“Barty the O2 has been your dream since-“

“I DONT BLOODY CARE!”

“Barty shut the fuck up. I said we’ll talk about it and we will, we will figure it out but stop acting like a goddamn CHILD.”

Barty looked over at Evan who had his teeth bared, slightly wild look in his eyes. He was seething too, clearly. Just more mature than Barty.

“Ok, yeah.”

He breathed in.

“I’m sorry Ev.”

“Hey it’s alright. It’s just important the band shows a united front against this you know? We can’t split up or in fight because then, well then we all lose.”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right Rosie. But we will do something.”

“I promise you they’re not getting away with this.”

Evan nodded. He tossed a hand over Barty’s shoulder, pulling him in just a little bit closer as they walked. Barty wasn’t complaining.

•••

“You don’t get it Marls, we can’t just not play the O2. We’d lose way too much money off it, probably too much to be able to continue with the rest of the tour. Plus venues will think we’re unreliable and might cancel or pull out. Riddle is such a fucking dick, he only told us when we went there for a tech practice literally today.”

“Fuck yeah that’s shitty.”

Marlene was sat next to Barty on the floor of his hotel room, helping him repaint his nails. The entire band had them matching, a bright toxic green, his had started to fade though.

“What if you just…ignore them? Do it anyway?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not like they can drag us off stage mid performance.”

“Not without exposing their homophobia.”

“Still…I wanna make a statement. Something big you know? Show them they can’t straight wash us.”

Marlene looked up at Barty, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I might have an idea then.”

•••

Evan was sat in an alcove in the hotel corridor watching Regulus patiently braid and unbraid Pandora’s hair on the sofa opposite him. It calmed them both down whenever they were stressed. And Barty and Marlene, locked up together in Barty’s hotel room. Both raging homosexuals dead set on never following rules talking amongst themselves just before the biggest gig of the band’s history? Yeah that was a reason to be stressed. That’s when he heard the tell tale clump of Barty’s docs down the corridor. And he was walking with purpose.

As soon as he came into view Evan noticed the way his eyebrows were knotted together yet his eyes were glimmering with excitement. Evan had no clue what Barty was going to say next but it wasn’t that.

“Marlene thinks I should kiss you.”

Barty announced and Evan dropped his jaw, staring at him agape.

“What?”

“And I agree with her.”

“What?”

***

OK HOPE U LIKED IT

xxx BYEEEE

pt4 probs gonna come soon bc I swear this fic has a life of its own

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gay4abby · 5 months

Text

A Significant Crack in Time !!

or in which jordan has an important decision to make & fears of making the wrong choice.

warnings, fluff, angst, possible character death, au, slowish burn for Jordan n reader. pairings, Jordan Li x reaper!nameless oc x Marie Moreau. gif creds to ayoedebiris. idk how long this is, plus idk where this was going didn’t know how to end it, im not proud of it either but !

Jordan couldn’t imagine being in this current predicament. It was hazy, the memory they’re trying to remember, but there all the same. It was like trying to recall a word that’s at the tip of your tongue. A dull pain flashes through their skull, rendering them to keep in the same position they’re in since they’ve gained consciousness. The surface they were laying on was just right, it didn’t make them feel too cold or too hot. A significant temperature that almost seemed impossible to attain. Their eyes were slowly opening, blinking every 5 seconds to adjust to sudden bleak haze that managed to obscure her vision. For a second they thought they’ve lost their sight with how many times they’ve had to blink just to focus their eyes.

They took in their surroundings wondering just where they are and why it was so damn foggy. “What the fuck?” they whispered. Quickly feeling uneasy, Jordan switched to their masculine form, extending their hands out in defence in case anything jumped out to attack. “Hello?” their soft yet hoarse voice rang out into the empty open space. It almost looked like…God U almost, except it’s vacant and dismal. Something out of silent hill almost. He let their guard down, defensive hands lowering with a steady pace. As if something might go wrong if he made any sudden movements. No reply was given as they began to relax, big brown eyes scanning the place. Slow steps were being taken as Jordan’s cautiousness simmered, but only for a bit.

“Fuck me, fuck where the hell am I.” he breathed out, seeing the fog of his breath as they walked further on to campus. It wasn’t cold, but still seeing that made it all the more suspicious. Jordan couldn’t decipher where they were, just that a nagging memory was chipping away at a cement wall that was threatening to crack. His doe eyes laid upon the café of the university that many of the students frequent to. But, it wasn’t as warm looking as the original, Jordan denounced. They once again seamlessly switched back to her feminine form, feeling no immediate threat. Like they were safe here.

Carefully, Jordan made their up towards the entrance, seeing a few figures lingering by inside. She was just as confused as she was when they first appeared in this place. They stayed outside, hand slightly hovering over the door handle that seemed to be frozen over. And yet, they still weren’t cold. As she peered inside, the people (if you can consider them that?) seemed as though they had no care in the world. Most were drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, others were devouring pastries that even made Jordan’s stomach turn. She couldn’t fathom digesting something so confectionery.

“You planning on going inside or are you just gonna stand there?” Jordan swore they jumped 20 feet into the air at the sudden voice behind them. It was a vehement sound, sending chills through Jordan as she quickly turned around and shifted to their male form. “Who the hell are you?” He spoke, taking in the strangers appearance. For a minute there was a moment of familiarity, but Jordan has never seen you in his entire life before. So why did they feel so familiar? “I don’t think that’s really important now. You going in or what?”

Jordan didn’t know whether to defend themselves or walk into the café like nothing’s wrong. When everything is wrong because he doesn’t know where the fuck he is! “Where the hell am I?” He spat at her which didn’t seem to affect them at all. The stranger looked serene, as if they weren’t in a universe that held absolutely no one besides the few who look lost inside the café. “Well, that’s for you to decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to attend to.” Moving out of Jordan’s way, you made your way inside leaving them more befuddled than when they came in. He turned around and followed your movements as you disappeared behind the counter.

Harbouring the feeling that there’s no immediate threat, Jordan shifts back to their female form, bracing themselves before walking inside of the rather vacant establishment. Jordan looked around at everyone she saw and concluded on one thing, they all looked content where they currently were. Which confused her to no end, how come no one was talking about how off everything is? But that also most of the people here were other Supes who she hasn’t seen since sophomore year. Supes she thought left and never returned.

“Would you like to order something while you wait?” The same voice rang through the otherwise desolate café. Jordan turned around with a bewildered expression on their face. Wait for what? “What do you mean?” Your hands settled on the counter. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, yes! That tends to happen when you have no idea where you fucking are.”

You chuckled, turning around to grab a mug and begin brewing a concoction Jordan didn’t seem to keen on trying. It only took a few moments before she turned around again with a steaming cup of cappuccino. You pushed the cup towards Jordan, cocking your head to the side to show them where to sit. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” you summarised before turning your attention to someone standing behind Jordan. They turned around to see someone they never expected to lay eyes on again.

“Dusty?!”

“Hey, man. Long time no see.”

“Last time I saw you were burned to bits! How the fuck are you here?” Jordan followed his movements, moving to the side as he took ahold of the mug that was freshly brewed right after Jordan’s drink. How the fuck did you do that so fast? “Dude, I got sent here because I died. Seems like you’re in the same boat. Or close to it anyway.” He walked off, taking a seat near the window to look at god knows what considering there’s shit out there. Jordan looked back at the mug patiently waiting to be picked up and devoured. Then it hit them. “I’m fucking dead?” She whispered. “Yeah…you are.”

Jordan looked up, tears welling up in their eyes as they began to shake their head. “No, no, no, no. You’re lying. I didn’t fucking die. I’m alive. What the fuck. You’re fucking lying. Stop lying to me! Stop it! Stop fucking lying to me!” They yelled, immediately pushing forth energy blasts that would have knocked over the woman, but you were still standing, unmoving in her place behind the counter. Was that the memory that was trying to break through? Of them dying? How could they not know they were dead?

“Are you done?”

“What the fuck!”

“Take a seat, Jordan, drink this. And I’ll explain everything.” You said calmly. The way you spoke to them made the twisting and turning in their chest settle just a bit. How the fuck did she do that? Jordan picked up the cup, eyeing it with uncertainty. She took a deep breath, bringing the cup to her pink lips; one sip was all it took before they downed the entire thing. Jordan slammed the cup on the counter, sending the woman a scowl before making their way to the seat on the other side of the café next to the window.

You followed, sighing quietly. You always got people like this pass through, not ever knowing what happened to them or why they’re even there in the first place. It’s not unusual to see someone have a mental breakdown about finding out they’re in fucking limbo. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.” Jordan was angry and you can tell from the firmness of their voice to the furrowed eyebrows wrinkling up their delicate forehead. “Are you calm?”

“Listen–”

“I will not explain anything unless you calm down.” Jordan took a deep breath before slouching back into the booth seat. “Thank you. Now, it’s a good thing you know someone here or else this probably would’ve went a completely different way.” You laughed, quickly coming to a halt at the sight of their face. “Right, so. You’re Jordan Li. Indestructible. Invincible. And yet, here you are in limbo.”

“LIMBO?”

“You died, Jordan. It’s as simple as that. Well, you’re actually on the brink of death. No pun intended. Sorry about your mentor.”

“Thanks…I guess. Wait, what do you mean brink of death? I’m not dead yet?” Jordan couldn’t get a grasp on what was going on. All she knew was that she needed to get the hell out of there knowing she’s not fully dead yet. “Yes. Precisely. You have the opportunity to go back, to stay here or to just let it all go.”

“To go back?” You could tell Jordan was getting even more confused than they were before. “I–where,” Jordan could not form a proper sentence to respond to this new found information. “Do you know how I died?” You shake your head no. Jordan sighs, running their small hands over their face. “That answer doesn’t usually come to me, it’s more so of what your status is in regards to you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well.”

“You’re not very good at explaining these things. And what the fuck even are you? Who are you?”

“People who usually end up in limbo have a choice to make. I gave you your options, now choose.” Jordan was at an impasse. Finding out you died was one thing, but finding out you have the choice to stay dead and move on or to go back was another. Jordan couldn’t even believe they were…would you call it dead? It didn’t seem real at all considering they’re indestructible. In their male form. Could they have been in their female form when their injuries turned worse for wear? Fuck, they got to get their memories back. It wasn’t like her at all to feel this way.

Jordan looked at you sitting in front of them, an emotionless expression on your soft features. She never got your name, they assumed it had to be something like the Ghastly Rider of the Lost Souls. Which brought her back to their original question, “What are you?” You just smiled at Jordan, folding your hands neatly on the table. “I’m someone you’ve seen, but never care to register. But if we’re being technical, I’m the bridge between your plane of existence and everything else after.”

You leaned forward, “What do you want, Jordan?” It was barely audible, but Jordan heard it all the same. The question seemed to hit a nerve that they never knew was there. What did they want? Why was this happening to them that brought her to this situation of deciding to leave those they love in despair or to live to fight another day? Or to stay in the in between of everything and find peace knowing they’ll watch others come and go. Why did it feel like the answer was right there but they could barely reach it yet? And what the fuck happened to have them end up here?

“Come. I want to show you something.” You extended out your hand as you rose from the seat, awaiting Jordan’s acceptance. And they knew now to not even fight it. She grabbed on to your hand and before they knew it they were before a pensive, unable to describe the rest of her surroundings. “Where–” Jordan began but stopped immediately after you let go of their hand. “If I hear you ask again where you are, I’ll make the decision for you, got it?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet, but daunting at the same time. Jordan decided not to speak unless spoken to.

The pensieve floated gracefully up until it reached just below their collarbones. Jordan was fascinated by the contraption, not knowing how to react to it. They’ve never seen anything like it and wondered exactly what it was the woman wanted to show them. It was glimmering light, the shine captivating that Jordan felt themselves leaning towards it involuntarily; the sudden pull coming from nowhere. Before they could get any further, a sharp push collided against their chest, causing them to shift to their male form.

“Wait.”

“What is that?” Jordan’s breathing became hoarse, staring at the object floating in front of them. “I don’t usually do this with those who pass through here. For some reason, it’s hard to get a reading on you. That doesn’t happen often, s’why I brought you here.” You raised your finger to tap the very centre of the pensieve, ripples of water wafting back at the both of you. “Since I don’t know what the fuck happened to you, I’m gonna allow Sabine to tell us both.”

“Sabine?” Jordan looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s what I named her when I first got her. She’s nice, she won’t bite.” You smirked at him before grabbing ahold of their neck and plunging them into the water.

Another dreading morning means another early class Jordan regrets enrolling for. It wasn’t by choice either rather their only option and if it wasn’t a requirement, god he would’ve said fuck all. Leading a day after a treacherous event as if nothing’s wrong was one of the hardest things the Supe had to do. Losing a close friend was on a whole other level of trauma; witnessing people pretending to be upset about it was absolutely jarring. They weren’t actually feeling the pain that comes with loss. That empty, aching feeling in your chest that seemed to grow deeper with each passing day. The feeling of not knowing when it’s going to be okay again. Or if it gets easier to bear.

Grief looked different on everyone, so when they showed up to class that morning not seeing Cate in her usual seat it was understandable that the blonde wanted to take some time off. Jordan didn’t blame her.

They sat through class zoning in and out so much so that they didn’t even realise class was over. Everyone was packing up to leave when he suddenly got a text from Cate saying to meet her in her dorm. Jordan all but hauled ass to straight to her quarter on campus, not stopping for anyone along the way. With haste, he was at her door quickly switching to their female form as Cate swung the door open. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was heaving, but one thing that felt off besides those was that her smile. It was crazed almost.

Her pupils were blown wide, she grabbed ahold of Jordan’s arm and yanked her inside. “I’m so glad you’re here! You got here quick,” she breathed out, walking to stand in the middle of her dorm room, Jordan slowly approaching. “I mean…yeah. You said to come and with everything…”

“Yeah I know, but that’s not why I called you here.” Jordan was beginning to really notice Cate. She was dishevelled, clothes looked pulled at almost as if she was doing hard labour. Eyes erratic, breathing slightly heavy but it seemed to be calming down. “Is everything alright, Cate?” Jordan whispered as she stepped closer. She put her hands on Cate’s arms, gently stroking them as she looked at her with a sympathetic expression. It annoyed Cate to no end that she was being looked at like that, but there was no time to react to that right now.

“Yes, I’m fine. More than fine, actually…I need to tell you something,” she leaned closer to Jordan, grabbing ahold of their arms too squeezing gently. Jordan didn’t like how this was beginning to make her feel. She can’t remember the last time Cate almost fell off her hinges, but it for sure definitely happened. Luke was there to console her after they got caught up with something for Brink, but was immediately there after the fact. She can’t help but worry if Luke’s death was sending her through another spiral again.

“You have to promise me you can’t get mad.” That made Jordan’s heart drop. “What the fuck, Cate…”

“Promise me!”

Jordan hesitated before slowly nodding, “Yeah. I promise. Fuck.” Cate smiled once more and it made Jordan even more uneasy than they already were. She left go of Jordan, turning back in a hurry to grab her phone. She frantically typing away on the screen when she turned around, her breathing becoming erratic again. “Luke’s death was no accident. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what could’ve made him do that, you know? It didn’t seem like him. To…to just kill himself. Not my Luke, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Right. So, I did some digging and I found out that Brink’s death and Luke’s are connected. In fact, there’s even a witness. Fucking Marie Moreau. That freshman we hung out with, can you believe that?

“Anyway. Turns out his brother’s alive and they’ve kept Luke in the dark about it. He killed Brink because of this. Because they were torturing his brother…underneath this fucking school. He wasn’t the only one either. And Shetty’s…she’s behind all of this. Look, I got her to tell me everything,” she pulled up a video of Shetty confessing exactly everything she just told Jordan, they watching with horror, “She’s been experimenting on fucking Supes to figure out a way to kill us all, Jordan.

“But she’s not going to do that because I’m going to kill her and everyone else apart of this.” Cate put her phone away looking at Jordan as her eyes grew wider than they can possibly go. The blood around her cornea spread further, waiting expectantly for Jordan to agree with her so they can get this going. She was at a standstill, though. On one hand, she couldn’t let Cate commit mass murder but Shetty’s confession made them crossed of wanting to make them pay. But Jordan knew they couldn’t do that, especially risking the lives of innocents who could be caught in the crossfire.

Jordan shook her head, “No, Cate. I won’t let you do that. Are you fucking insane? Do you hear yourself, kill Shetty? We’d be no better than them.” Cate was not expecting that answer and the annoyance she felt from earlier slowly seeped back turning into anger. Her breathing became heavy again and she found herself reaching out to touch Jordan, but before she even had the chance an energy blast sent her flying hitting the window behind her and falling against the floor with a loud thud.

She groaned, making her way up from the ground, “Do not make me fight you, Cate.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just want you to see reason! Why we need to stop them before they stop us!” She charged towards Jordan again before she shifted to his male form knocking her on the side of her head with his fist which sent her to the ground. Blood seeped from where the blow was met, but still she got up. All the commotion had the door bursting open, Marie on the other side. It caused Jordan to turn around giving Cate the distraction she desperately needed.

“Marie! She’s trying to–” Jordan couldn’t finish his sentence before he collapsed to the ground. The last thing he heard was a loud scream, from which girl they did know.

Jordan was thrown back from the pensieve, switching to their female form immediately. Their breathing was staggered, tears filling up their sockets as she looked over at you. “Did, what– what happened?” She spoke softly, the tears escaping as she shook their head. “I don’t…I don’t remember any of that. What Luke’s brother never died, what? What the fuck did you show me!”

“I only showed you what you refused to remember.”

“You fucking planted that in my head, you psycho–” Before Jordan could even finish their sentence, their mouths were sealed shut by you an evident frown slowly making its way on to your features. “You keep denying what’s right in front of you is only going to delay your decision, which will then be made for you.” You lowered your fingers which caused her mouth to unseal, small hands balling up into fists as Jordan steadied their breathing.

“So, what now? What does it mean?” You studied Jordan for a moment finally seeing and realising how vulnerable they are. You waved your hand nonchalantly, casting away the pensieve before you grabbed their hand again and within a blink of an eye, you both were back at the café. Dusty was gone Jordan noticed and it made her wonder did he move on? “It means you have a decision to make. Like I said, you either stay, let it go or move on.”

“What if I don’t know what to do?” Jordan said it so timidly it made your heart crack just a little. You never really got emotional over passers, most just being an afterthought, but Jordan…with Jordan it was different. You felt the need to hold their hand every step of the way.

“When you were conscious, on any general day, what did you feel like?”

It took a moment for Jordan to answer because she felt a lot of things. There was always a battle going on in their heads about anything and nothing. Jordan suffered from severe anxiety, but was able to mask it so well it became second nature. The question kept replaying in Jordan’s head, “I felt like I was going. Like auto pilot, prioritising things like rankings, engagement, and follows. Just overall exposure. To show that I’m the best.”

“To show you’re good enough?”

“Yes.”

You sighed, pulling Jordan to the seat you both preoccupied before this time sitting next to each other rather than across. Jordan was confused but let you manoeuvre them however way you wanted to. Sitting this close to you made Jordan realise that you carry a halo of comfort around you, no matter how snarky and pensive you can get. Always thinking but she assumed that was part of the job.

But, up close and personal it felt like a whole other reality. “I think your reason is because if you decide to go back, you’re not sure if you can come back from such a takedown as the one Cate gave you. And that’s understandable, I don’t think anyone can truly heal from that sort of trauma.

“You’re what, 180 when you’re a guy? Or does the weight just stay the same…” You extended your arms out to question with your shoulders raised slightly, head turned to a 40 degree angle with your eyes still on them. Jordan gave you a bored look with a slight head tilt.

“It stays the same!” You put your hands up in defence. “I understand.” Jordan shook her head, leaning back against the booth seat. She began looking worse for wear, the reality that they might never even come back is daunting on them slowly. And considering the idea of not returning was something on their mind, it scared them a little at just how much they actually loved life. You watched them with curious eyes as she remained silent. Like they were assessing everything over in their heads.

Jordan really want to think about this, but they felt like she didn’t have much time. “What if I go back and I can’t do anything about what’s happening? What if I can’t realise that there’s more taxing and important things going on besides whatever battle I created for myself in my head?”

“Jordan, you coming to the realisation alone should be enough of a push to be the person you actually want to be.” You placed your hand over theirs that was laid on top of the table. To you, Jordan felt warm and to Jordan, you felt cold, a comforting cold that helps you fall asleep easier in a dark room. She didn’t know how to feel about this, but she knew it wasn’t anything malicious or negative, but it was still strange. They didn’t move their hand away. “But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m too stubborn to realise that this isn’t something I want and I can do something–” Before Jordan could even finish the last sentence, you sealed their mouth shut once more.

Jordan sighed through their nose, irritated at being silenced again. But in this case, they understood after realising what they were saying. The constant what if’s is exactly why Jordan always felt the need to second guess themselves. No matter how sure of themselves they are, there was always a small voice in the deepest corner of their psyche, telling her the most obscene things. These are things that they began to believe over time. She never told anyone either. She always felt like they were alone.

Their mouth suddenly opened, you leaning back after looking at Jordan expectantly. “I get it now.” You let out a relief sigh, “I just…don’t want to do this alone. I don’t know what it’s going to be like if I do this alone.”

“You don’t have to do it alone if you don’t want to. You’ll have help. You’ll have someone there every step of the way. I know this.”

“How do you know?” Jordan looked at you, eyebrows raised in question. You sat unmoving, just blinking. It began to grow dark around the both of you, everything just fading away slowly. It brought Jordan unease, big brown eyes flittering around, heartbeat picking up. “What the fuck is happening?” She couldn’t see you clearly anymore, a silhouette in replacement of where your physical body used to be. Jordan began hyperventilating when they couldn’t see a thing anymore. “Hello! Fuck, can anyone hear me? Hello!”

The EKG began beeping rapidly, Marie already on high alert as she sat next to the bed that held a distraught Jordan. Their eyes were still closed but she could see their eyes moving vigorously underneath the lids. She leaned over, gently placing her hand on their arm, “Jordan…Jordan, hey. I’m here. It’s okay, I’m here,” she almost whispered, her hand stroking their arm. Jordan’s eyes opened frantically, jumping up from the laying position he was in turning every which way.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re here. Thank god, you’re awake!” Marie exclaimed, practically jumping into Jordan’s arms. The door burst open and in came the doctor that was assigned to Jordan. “You’re awake!”

“He’s awake,” Marie couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “What…what happened?” The doctor walked over to the other side of Jordan’s bed, examining his vitals as he began to explain. “You were in a coma for three weeks, Mr Li. We weren’t sure how long it’ll be before you awoke again.” The length of time shocked Jordan to their very core. How has it been three weeks? All that transpired three weeks ago and it felt like it happened in a matter of seconds. Jordan was in disbelief, he couldn’t fathom this from any point in time. His eyes flittered to Marie’s wide ones, her hand grasping theirs as she squeezed it gently. He squeezed it back. “We’ll have to keep for the next two days to monitor your progress, but everything here looks good. Just remember to stay hydrated after you’re discharged.”

Jordan nodded at the words, but didn’t bother taking any of it in. Three weeks? Three fucking weeks and it felt like you and them were just together for mere minutes. It all came flooding back to him in no time and he looked at Marie again, mouth open but nothing coming out. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything what you went through was tough. Cate’s…she’s under surveillance. If you could even call it that. But she’s not coming around any time soon.”

“What happened while I was out?” Marie sighed at the question. She didn’t exactly know how to explain it. Cate didn’t receive any sort of repercussions. After she terrorised the school, she went after Supes who didn’t agree with her and that’s when they began taking everything seriously. Andre was killed (by his own power no less), Sam was captured alongside Cate but were sent to different correctional facilities as to prevent any tyranny. Government involvement meant there were restrictions cracked down on Supes who were and weren’t apart of the sudden uprising.

There was so much more and Marie didn’t even know where to start. “It’s a lot, Jordan.”

Jordan was released two days later, Marie at her side as they walked towards the car waiting for the both of them. They were healed, physically, but mentally…Jordan just wondered what got them back here in the first place. She doesn’t exactly remember making a decision and it wasn’t something she was willing to discuss with Marie just yet. Marie eyed Jordan with worry, she knew something was off by their body language but didn’t want to intrude. It was killing her not to say anything, but knowing Jordan she’ll come around eventually.

“Finally! The comatose vegetable is ripe!”

“Emma, what?”

“I don’t know. I just missed you, Jordy,” the smaller girl’s voice pitched up a bit as she wrapped her arms around Jordan’s torso, squeezing with all her might to convey the amount of yearning Emma had for her presence. The two grew closer from their first meeting to now and Jordan couldn’t help but feel their heart grow in size at Emma’s affection. “I missed you too, Little Cricket.” The hug was cut after she had said that. If looks could kill, Jordan would be dead…again?

They were all about to pile in the car, a conversation being had between Marie and Emma as she hopped into the drivers seat. Jordan turned their head up becoming immediately frigid at the sight in front of her. She didn’t even know you were fucking real, let alone existed on this plane of reality? Is that what you call it? Their name was faintly being called but that was a mile away, she didn’t even feel her feet move until she stood in front of you.

“It’s you. It’s fucking you,” they started before continuing. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You shut the car door, the locking sound engaging. “I’m visiting my grandmot–”

“No, I mean here. This plane of existence. In my world. I thought you were a fucking bridge or something.” Jordan was intimidated by your demeanour, the lean against the car, the foot over the other and you looked calm as ever. Just like limbo and it pissed Jordan off to no end. “I also said I was someone you don’t even pay attention to.” The softened expression on Jordan’s face matched how they felt. They completely mistook what was said at your first meeting and it didn’t even occur to Jordan that you meant face to face. In real time. In reality.

“Who the fuck are they talking to?”

“Beats me.”

“They don’t look a little familiar to you?” Marie shook her head, tilting it a bit before she carried herself over to them. Not that it mattered. Jordan could talk to anyone they wanted, right? They weren’t exclusive or anything. “That’s your Supe power? That’s what Compound V fucking gave you?” Jordan sounded incredulous at your confession just as Marie joined the two of you. As soon as your eyes landed on Marie, your throat felt tight along with your chest. Were you not breathing? “Hey…what’s going on here?”

“I’ll explain later…” Jordan trailed off just as you spoke up and introduced yourself. Marie nodded her head, the usually perplexed expression on her soft features. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, but you didn’t want to make it noticeable. She’ll probably think you’re a loser. “Nice to meet you, I’m Marie,” it grew silent after she answered. And Jordan couldn’t clenched their fist trying to figure out how to get out of this. “I don’t wanna keep you, we should go. I have to rest anyway, you know being in a coma for three weeks can drain the fuck out of you.”

Jordan’s incisiveness threw Marie for a loop and she was confused on the fact on how Jordan knew you. Her arm was being pulled away as Jordan was in front of her before stopping abruptly. “You go on ahead, actually, I think they have something of mine I’m just gonna, yeah,”

“How do you know them, Jordan?”

“I’ll be with you in a sec!” She exclaimed, shoving Marie forward, her expression apologetic. Once Marie was out earshot, Jordan turned back around to you still standing there, eyebrows raised in question. “When you said I wasn’t going to be alone…did you mean…”

“You have a support system, Jordan. And if your friends allow it, I can definitely be apart of that.” Although it was going to be a tough road and it’s going to take some getting used to, everything being different for Supes, Jordan knew it was going to be trial and error. But as long as they had you and the others, they knew they’d be fine. It’s just going to take a bit of convincing for Emma and Marie to warm up to you, especially Marie. You lot had a lot of work cut out for you, but Jordan knew there wasn’t failure for them in the future.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v fic #jordan li x reader #jordan li x gn!reader #marie moreau x reader #mariejordan #jordanmarie #limoreau x reader #marie moreau x gn!reader #limoreau

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joonggphilia · 4 months

Text

☼Who’s in Charge☼ (J W.Y)

☼pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Male reader ☼genre: smut ☼prompt: “you really thought I would just fall into your arms?” ☼CW: school au!, enemies to idk, dub con, blowjob, meany Wooyoung ☼a/n: I love him <33333 also rip readers, no fluff from me or Jubin.

Read jaemmphilia’s version here!!!!

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M/n l/n. The schools popular guy, the athlete type, everybody loved him except for Jung Wooyoung, the student council president. The two had been going at it since elementary school. No one knew why you two hated each other so much, it was just common knowledge. Some people say you two are polar opposites, some people think it’s a fight over grades, or maybe teacher’s favorite. Others, say you two like each other, but that’s bullshit….. “Cmon m/n, just do it. I’m sure you’ll get an answer if you charm him.” Your friend Yunho, pushed. He wanted you to find out if Wooyoung really did like you. Absolutely ludicrous. “Shut up, he’ll hear you.” You groaned, nudging yunho as you passed the student council office. “Just go.” Yunho cackled, pushing you into the door. Oh fuck. “Excuse me?” Wooyoungs sharp voice rang out, his fox eyes scanning your form. “U-uhm, Woo! I wanted to ask you something.” You asked in your best flirty tone. “M/n, I really don’t have time for you.” He said, almost like your name in his mouth tasted bad. “Oh cmon, just listen.” You grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk. He looked up at you through his glasses, raising an eyebrow. “You like me don’t you.” M/n sneered, leaning down to look in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Come here.” Wooyoung hummed, motioning for you to come stand in front of him. You were so ready for his answer….excited almost? Wooyoung smiled at you, his eyes sweet and playful. “M/n you…….really thought I would fall into your arms?” Wooyoung cackled, his laugh was piercing and cruel. “Well I-“ you started, but got cut off. “It’s ok. I see the way you look at me. Sit.” Wooyoung demand, pushing your shoulders down so you fell to your knees. “Since you like me so much, why don’t you do what you want. I’m right here.” He said, grinning as he sat on his office chair. “Wooyoung, I promise, I didn’t mean it like this.” You persisted, massaging your knee slowly. “Just suck me off m/n. You want it. I’m frustrated.” Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back farther. You looked at him in shock and disbelief, was this really Wooyoung talking. The sweet, innocent, and kind student pres. was pushing you onto your knees and demanding you give him a blowjob. It was hot. “Woo-” You muttered, but he placed his hand on his zipper. “Good boy, I knew you liked me.” He sneered, his voice dripping with hate. You slipped his pants down and his cock immediately hit your cheek. He didn’t wear any underwear to school? You let it slip your mind, carefully grabbing onto his erect penis and bring the tip to your lips. “I don’t have all day.” Wooyoung mumbled, placing his hand on your head. This caused you to rush a little bit, taking him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his agitated tip. You took him deeper and deeper, inch by inch, using your hands on what you couldn’t reach. Slurping noises rang out around the room. “You’re not very good at this.” Wooyoung fake yawned, pushing you all the way down on his cock and holding you there. You gagged and gasped as he laughed. Tears brimmed at your eyes, threatening to fall. He then pulled you up by your hair and made eye contact with you. “Now make me cum, or everyone will know about how you like me soooo much.” Wooyoung laughed, and pushed you down back onto his cock.

“have you seen m/n?” Yunho hummed, asking one of his soccer teammates. He hasn’t seen m/n since he pushed him into Wooyoung’s office. “He stayed overnight to study with Wooyoung. Maybe Wooyoung does like m/n?”

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#Jung Wooyoung x Male Reader #Wooyoung X Male reader #wooyoung X reader #ateez X male reader #ateez X reader #ateez smut #smut #writing collab

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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m thinkin abt the “blunt vs flowery” language thing and…… in the year of our lord 2023, i don't even want to imagine how far back we'd have to go in genshins timeline until we see ‘hey shawty' written on a cave wall-

you try to be better about it, sometimes, using only the fanciest words and the most floral of tones, but all you ever succeed in doing is giving zhongli flashbacks to the archon war-

in the same vein: modern humor. would literally make them think "is this some sort of divine joke im too mortal to understand?" except even the archons need to cite sources on why a piece of bread falling over would be funny- maybe you slip sometimes, but you only ever get halfway through like “i’m neurodivergent and a minor” before you realize they don’t know what that means— “what if i had blue hair and pronouns” but they’re just sitting there like… doesn’t everybody have pronouns….? and kaeya has blue hair- are you implying he’s divine? what about chongyun?? xingqiu??????

anyway um. this is me bringing up my unfortunate (but very funny) habit of saying “i’ll boil you like soup” whenever i’m mildly inconvenienced and hoping it triggers Thoughts about the casual/slang threats we make and how they cope

sorry if this reads incoherently it’s 1am for me rn— also i’m debating becoming a regular anon here, are your applications open? 👉👈

SORRY IF I RAN U OFF BY NOT REPLYING QUICKLY!! BUT I’D LOVE TO HAVE LABELLED ANONS! I’ve already added some taken name I could see in my mailbox so check the pinned post and choose whatever isn’t taken! phrase or emoji, etc.! :)

this isnt super long bc ur stuff seemed chill on its own/idk what I could add! So I just focused on one aspect

gif is literally everyone reacting to you trying to speak “flowery” like them lol

ALSO u guys probably dont remember bc I took so long but I’m still writing/going to post that Blunt Lang. AU Fanfic One-Shot! so here’s some quick headcanons ill add on ive got anon!!

No TWs/Content Warnings. SFW.

so this was gonna be chill but-

BESDIES RANDOM SHIT LIKE MEME REFERENCES

THAT WONT MAKE SENSE TO THEM BC INHERENT INTERNET/DIGITAL UNDERSTANDING NEEDED

WHAT IF ALL UR JOKES OR REFERENCES ARE QUITE LITERALLY, ANCIENT??

like anon said about even the archons having to pull out sources/cite your stuff to understand it, like finding really old tablets/scrolls/carved wall words 😭

u giving Zhongli a history lesson/brush up LMAO

If ur annoyed at them u just need to make more jokes, leave em scrambling for their pocket notes LOL

I like to think since you sound the OLDEST

that the ancient shit like Phanes/Four Shades/Seven Sovereigns are the closest in speech

(look theyre all alive and shit for my genshin, goddamit i still gotta tell u guys abt my genshin fill-in lore au)

and they’re closer to the “beginning of history” in teyvat so theyd get more references

theyd literally understand u the best and they like, all in the Abyss or like deep in Teyvat,

so u just casually strolling up to Azdaha’s place instead like

“How’s your day been Azhy?”

“Same as the days many before, my lord. How are thee?”

“Good enough, hey, why don’t I bring some food from my old world by that I’ve made for you to try out? Something new, y’know?”

camera pan left to see Zhongli looking up, then back down as he scribbles notes trying to better understand, Xiao has crossed his arms and is squinting, Ganyu is behind Zhongli and is trying to peek over his shoulder, Cloud Retainer and other adepti have like hidden nearby to overhear lol

♤

FLASHBACKS FOR ZHONGLI-

HE’S OVER HERE LIKE

“Please do not disturb your countenance my Wànsuìyé, the vernacular is pleasant to mine ears and sufficient for speech.”

“I shall, uh, try my best Zhongli, thought I know ye have- wait- thy have? Whatever, accepted it, I shall keep attempting to better match thee!”

HIS FACE-

He’s literally just → 😰😣💀

(flashback to at least 1 really ancient/old god he had to fight for his life against, they were the hardest battle he’s ever faced, and Azhdaha was helping him by that point too, so it wasn’t even like he won alone… rip zhongli got ptsd)

He keeps trying to subtly stop you from practicing it, he also desperately discourages others from helping you 😭

(Zhongli was about to be called Rex Lapis again when Venti was trying to get on his last nerve by constantly encouraging you to speak fancier, but in the incorrect way, at dinner with them one time)

Like that last content with them pretending not to kow each other but 5x the tension and Venti is fooling around even more so than usual lol

THANKS FOR SENDING IN YOUR IDEAS!! I FUCKING LOVE HEARING OTHER PPLS BRAINROTS OVER STUFF!! AND SORRY AGAIN IT TOOK FOREVER!! ITS BEEN A ROUGH YEAR OF UNI FOR ME/IM GRADUATING!! <333 TYSM ANON!!

Safe Travels,

💀 ♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylazaa / @genshin-impacts-mee / @wholesomey-artistt / @thedevioussmirk

#fuck my tags #I hate that tumblr doesn't remember for me #im not a machine dammit i cant remember all this shit #genshin isekai #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin reader insert #genshin imagines #genshin god reader #my asks #rip to ppl who wanted longer content from me srry #its coming soon i promise #trying to post p2 of possession au and get that one shot blunt lang au posted :D

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katsuniverse · 2 years

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hey love! i was wondering (only if you're comfortable with it) if you could do a sub!james x dom!reader smut where the reader is a cam girl hehe

anyways i love your writing!!! xx

warning: sex worker reader, SMUT, sub!james, femdom!reader, male masturabtion, unprotected penetrative sex, praise kink, bondage, subspace, slight degradation , slight mommy kink if you squint -lemme know if there’s more

AN: this was fun to write cuz i love sub!james but anywaysss hope u enjoy.{edited} let’s not pretend this request wasn’t ages ago and i deadass thought i finished and posted it only to find it nestled into my drafts. anyways i started writing this forever ago, so if you see a maturity in my language, you know why lmao) pls don’t be mad :))) obvious modern au

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you were wearing something different, he noticed.

instead of the usual baby blue underwear, you were clad in a deep red lacy two-piece.

it extenuated your figure in a way that made you look more . . . assertive. as though you were looking down on him with a condescending grin, knowing how desperately he craves you.

except it wasn’t just him, unfortunately. every sunday at noon you would go live and entertain up to 5,000 people with your explicit vulnerability. letting everyone see your most sensitive parts and watch you as you tip yourself over the edge repeatedly.

you were james’s favorite. maybe it was in the way you would be doing the most erotic poses and making the most pathetic sounds yet still he would feel so mesmerized, so enamored that even he knew you were the one in control.

it was you that had him wrapped around your finger. it was you that made him so eager to clear off his schedule the moment he knew you would be live. it was you that made him feel aroused in a way that no ones else has seen or accomplished. and it was you that kept him wanting more even after his cheeks were heated, his thighs were trembling, his eyes were all glassy and his mind was all cloudy, only focused on you.

it was utterly shameful how often you were the star of his scenarios, the main character of his dreams and the supervisor of his mind.

now here he was, sitting on his bedroom floor in the closet so his parents wouldn’t here and wake from their slumber, watching as you run your hands down your body with a teasing smirk. he could feel that familiar haziness enter his head and it didn’t help you dressed in his favorite color, looking more ravishing than ever.

it didn’t even just stop at your outfit. you were matching in cherry red nails and heels, lips adorned in the ruby color, to go under your masquerade mask. he could feel the tent in his trousers tighten and he eagerly freed himself from the confines.

your eyes narrowed and your glanced towards the chat, deciding between all the entry’s of what you should do to tease the viewers next.

james scrambled to type a suggestion in hopes you would reply.

bambiboythechaser: love when you take your straps down and play with your tits

“hmm, bambi boy it is,” you cheerfully mutter, moving your hair away and slowly bringing down the strapes to your bra, one at a time.

your breasts fall out of their cups as you unclip the back and you make a show of pinching and pulling at your nipples. whimpers leave your throat, as you need at them.

james slows his pace with a fist around his cock, edging himself to enjoy your live. he watches as your hands hesitatingly wonder around your clothed naval, eyeing the chat for a request or offer to take them off.

bambiboythechaser: please take them off, wanna see all of you

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read the message, “ok bambi boy, seems like your extra active tonight then usual. well you know it’ll cost’ya, darling.”

james subconsciously bucks into his hand at the nickname, and makes quick work of sending the money. your eyes gleam as you see the payment and you teasingly run your fingernails downwards as you ease of the lacy panties.

a soft moan escapes him as he gets sight of your bare body. he’s always known you to be a beautiful woman but, every time is like the first time he wandered upon your content.

you slide your fingers through the arousal gathered at your folds and gently rub, leaning your head back to let out a slightly exaggerated moan. with heavy breathes you gaze down at the chat and easily notice how the viewers appreciate your lewd noises and view.

the bespectacled boys pupils zeroed in on your cunt as you quicken your pace and he does the same, wanting to finish with you. choked out gasps and moans fill the closet as he works his was towards the feeling building inside his stomach.

“get ready loves, i’m coming,” you mutter out, pushing your frame closer to the camera. james repeatedly rubs at his head as you curl your fingers to press on that one spot that has you seeing stars. you arch your back and cry out as the male releases on his stomach, whimpering as he comes down from his high.

you let out a happy sigh as you thank all your viewers and quickly dismiss yourself from the chat, reminding them to come back next week.

this was the part james was always curious about. what you did after ending the live and cleaning yourself up. did you study for school? did you even go to school? maybe you made dinner for yourself and took care of a pet. you seem like the pet-type, he thought.

but, that’s weird. he shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. he hasn’t even seen your real face and knows close to nothing about your actual identity. perhaps he’ll let it go.

if he can get you off his mind, that is.

≈ ≈ ≈

james combed back his unruly locks as he stood infront of his bathroom mirror. he was going over to his friends house. that friends parents conveniently being friends of his parents. that friend also being his first crush ever.

you had been friends since you were 12, james having fancied you since you were 15. is started out a just attraction towards you, post-puberty when his hormones took control.

however, he has soon noticed a pattern in the way his heart would flutter at your smallest affections and the wave of bitterness that would wash over him when seeing another boy try for your attention.

he had missed you over the few months you were separated in the summer and now that schools starting once again both of your parents scheduled a dinner party to catch up once again.

a sense of excitement passed over him at the thought of seeing you again. with that excitement however also came timidness. had you missed him as well? how had your summer been? had you been thinking about by him in the ways he was thinking about you? did you find someone to replace him in the weeks you were parted? he hoped not. surely you would never replace him.

he swiftly finished getting ready and met with his parents outside to apparate to your manor.

he couldn’t help but wonder if you looked different from when he last saw you. you were already naturally beautiful and he couldn’t imagine you getting anymore stunning.

he walked up the steps to your front door waiting for your appearance to ease the nerves eating away senses. to his disappointment it was your father who had led y’all inside and greeted his parents with a familiarity.

he chuckled, “you know y/n, always wanting to look her best. she should be down any minute, but in the meantime take a seat at the dinning table while we wait.”

james made sure he took the spot across from you, taking a bite of one of the rolls toward the center of the table.

in less than five minutes your heels could be heard clacking down the hallway and his head swiveled in the direction of the doorway, just as you make your way through the entrance.

he had to choke down a surprised gasp as you graciously strided down to your seat, a bashful flush decorating your cheeks.

“sorry for the wait. I couldn’t decide what dress to wear and-” you were cut off as james’s mother cut you off.

“oh dear, it’s alright we’re just happy too see you again. you don’t have to worry,” she sent you a warm smile, brushing away your fears in a heartbeat.

james could hardly focus on what anyone was saying. you looked. . . breathtaking. that was the only way to describe the sight in front of him. you were wearing a captivating red dress with a barely-appropriate cleavage and a slit down your left leg, exposing the smooth skin of your calve.

he shifted in his seat at the blood rushing downwards, trying to avoid the heat burning all over his face, ears, and neck.

the rest of the dinner went on with you trying to unsuccessfully maintain eye contact with him and james doing his best to avoid glancing at any part of your revealed physique.

after finishing up on desert, the parents made their way outside to drink and mingle while you convinced james to hangout in your room.

he was silent the whole time and you were worried he was conflicted with you, for something. determined to find out you quietly closed the door as soon as you both entered and turned so your back pressed against it.

he was facing the wall, away from you so you couldn’t see his expression making you walk over to him to see him staring at his shoes.

“jamie, why are you being so preserved? did I do something wrong? if so, you know you can tell me,” you spoke softly, taking your index finger and thumb to lift his head, and focus on you.

what you saw in his eyes startled you, seeing unexpected . . . lust clouding his irises. your eyebrows furrow as you place your palm against his cheek, feeling the warmth on his rosy flesh.

“why don’t I get you some water?,” you mutter, your feet carrying you to the bathroom.

james watches you walk out forgetting his promise to not stare at your figure, his gaze then landing on your dresser closest to the door.

despite his preoccupied mind, he noticed almost immediately the sparky item laying to the side of the surface. it was a masquerade mask. a sparkly masquerade mask. but no, not just any sparkly masquerade mask. her mask. the same girl he watched just nights ago in his room, jerking off to. the same girl he he saw finger herself and make herself come in front of hundreds of other people.

maybe he was being silly. perhaps they just happened to have the same mask. but then he walked over to you in the bathroom and he saw the same red heels, and the same red lingerie folded over in the corner on the counter.

your eyes zeroed in on him standing in the door way as you were applying your red lipstick on. he frantically turned to look at you and in an instant noticed the same red lipstick and nails.

“james, are you alright?,” you questioned, taking note of his widen eyes and struck-filled expression.

“i-it’s you. you’re h-her. she’s you. I saw you … n-naked,” he stuttered out, still staring at you in disbelief.

realization dawned on you as you took in his words. he was you naked, he doubled at the sight of your lingerie and heels. had he watched one of your lives? was he a subscriber? did he comment on the chat and interact with you in your disguise and outfit?

“oh shit, james! you saw my video didn’t you?,” you whispered-yelled as you run a troubled hand through your hair.

“are you kidding? I’ve watched all your lives. I’m a regular. bambiboythechaser ring a bell?” he says back, the tent in his pants growing.

you curse, remembering the username constantly requesting on all your chants and wonder how you be so dense. you open your mouth to ask james when he started watching, but closed it quickly at his expression.

he was trying to remain looking somewhat serious, and you had previously detected his prominent boner, but now the need in his eyes was more obvious now than ever. you made a decision then, that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take care of him for once, and took his face in your hands.

“I suppose you’ve always been my good boy, now haven’t you?”, his irises enlarge and it takes everything to not kiss him silly in that moment.

his tedious gulp doesn’t go unnoticed and you’ve half a mind to take the pad of your thumb and soothe the pinched skin in between his eyebrows. instead of a verbal response, he shakes his head. too excited to hesitate another moment, yet too anxious to speak.

you don’t mind taking control though. he knows that already by the sound of him hurriedly shuffling towards your bed. with a relaxed smirk from you, he takes his que to strip himself of the clothing shielding his body from your watchful gaze.

“my boy. so good. so eager for me, hm?” you take your time removing articles of clothing, one by one except for your bra and underwear. teasing him with your slow movements and eye contact. he flusters as the show of revealed bare skin.

it’s hits you then, as you crawl your way on top of him and place featherlight kisses upon his goosebump-riddled skin that this may be his first time. “tell me if you need me to stop at any time, ok pretty boy?” you lift your head to watch his face for any sign of opposition.

he hums and nods like the ever-needy angel he is. as you straddle his naked waist with your hips, you feel his weak attempt to thrust up towards you and you gently place his hands on your waist. his whimpers reach your ears like a melody you could never get tired of and you grind your hips down to get more.

the more your kisses on his neck turn sloppy the more confidence he gains to where he moves his hands to slide up and down you back then wraps his arms around your middle, as if scared to let you go. you reach around your back to unclasp your bra in an attempt to help him get more comfortable.

his eyes go wide like saucers and with a gentle nod of consent he dives forward. latching on to your tits and worshipping them with his hands. using his appreciation to make her feel good. after you pull away from his bruised flesh you gently lead him away from your breasts for a soft kiss as your hands grab each of his and hold them above his head while simultaneously leaning him back all the way on the bed. his soft moans are muffled by your mouth as your tongue finds the inside of his mouth. with a chaste peck to his lips, you lean back up and with one hand keep his hands together and the other, hold his cheek sweetly.

“you ok with trying something new with me, love?” you ponder as your hand leaves his face and digs into the drawer on your nightstand to pull out two, wine red silk ties.

his face turns the color of said pieces of fabric and with a sheepish grins mutters back a frantic ‘yes please’. with that you make quick work of tying his hands with a gentle kiss to each wrist and not to tight to cut off much circulation. you kiss down his body while rocking your hips downward. his whines for you to stop teasing, echo faintly in your ear and you mercifully decide to strip your bottom half of your panties and straddle him once more.

his jaw hangs open at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing against his skin. “jamie darling, I need you to look in my eyes and tell me your ready, ok?”

his dilated eyes find yours and he replies breathlessly”yes please. need you now, please”. with that, you gently life yourself above him and line him up, before sinking down.

a strangled sound leaves the poor boys throat and you brace your palms on his shoulders to steady yourself into a good rhythm. “what a pretty boy you are, hm? so pathetic looking, spread under me like a helpless little toy.” your words fuel him on more, and he braces his feet on the bed to meet up with your trusts, desperate to make you feel good.

the sounds of skin slapping with groans of your name and whimpers of his fill the room. you reach an angle that has him pressed firmly up to your g-spot and your eyes roll back as your back arches with a cry through teeth-bitten lips.

james is in an absolute daze. taking in your beauty and watching longingly as your tits bounce with each thrust of his and your movements. he reaches forward as much as he can to take a nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue around it, feeling himself get closer.

you cards your fingers through your hair and clench around him while appreciatively humming praises and his whines cause your skin to vibrate. “you close, love?” you breathlessly get out while he shakes his head ‘yes’ and switches nipples.

in an attempt to get you both to finish at the same time you reach one hand to rub your clit and the other to grab his hair and yank him up in a passionate kiss. he whimpers once again and you make a show of biting his bottom lip before pulling him away. “let’s come together, okay angel? can you do that pretty boy?”.

incoherent ‘yes’s fall from his swollen lips as you clench around him with a final thrust and fall apart as your body tingles and you reach your climax same time as james.

“thank you, mommy! thank you, thank you”, breathless words tumble out of him faster than he can register and he doesn’t even realize what he says after his head kills back and he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

your skin sticks together with sweat as you untie his hands and rub at his wrists to soothe any remaining ache.with a kiss to his forehead and a promise of return you pull away from him to grab a wet washcloth to clean you both up. afterwards, you climb into bed beside him and lift the covers up to cuddle as he lays on top of your and wraps his whole body around yours.

“you did so well for me james. so proud of you”, you brush through his hair with your fingers as he gives you pecks along your skin before softly dozing off. you turn of the light beside you as you cuddle closer to shortly shut your eyes along with him.

moots! (pls lemme know if i forgot you lol)

-also rly appreciate reposts

@jamespottersmommy @morwap @moony-lupiin @why-what-no @wonderfilworld @natti-ice @my-my-only-angel @dylwrites @honeymunson @sereinegemini @fairydxll @i-cant-stfu @alexaaahh @qtcupid @lilithreplies @lilith-weasley @l0nelylibra @padfootprongsmoony @padf00ts-l0ver @ddejavvu @moonbcrry

#moots <3 #katlovesall #james potter smut #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader #marauders smut #james potter x reader #sub!james potter #james potter x you #dom!reader #sub james potter #fem!reader #fem!dom #jamespotterismypreciousboy #james potter x reader smut #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders #mrskatpotter

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