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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 years

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Less than Holy

I finally went and did it. After more than two years I went and wrote a fanfiction. This is basically a Fix-It - Everyone lives/nobody dies, not even Pike the dog or Erin’s baby. There are also no vampi- I mean angels and Monsignor Pruitt is actually in a hospital on the mainland and not father Paul Hill at all.

Less than Holy - 7.6K

Of all the people you would expect to fall for, the priest was the absolute last one of them.

You were a promising young writer, already having published a few books, the last one being a bestseller in the US. And while your name could be seen in many bookshops around English speaking countries and some foreign ones, your face was a mystery to the public. Which suited you, really. Your favorite genre to write was supernatural horror. Ever since you were a little girl, there was just something thrilling about darkness and what may lurk within. You grew up passionately reading up on Ed and Lorraine Warren's supernatural cases, fell asleep to the classic stories by Mary Shelley and Sheridan Le Fanu, and watched the newest flicks in cinemas with bated breath and a content feeling.

That's how you ended up on Crockett Island. Originally, you were only staying there in order to write your latest book; it was a story about a small, lonely fishing town, just like this one. Strange, horrifying monsters from deep waters would start targeting poor unsuspecting people from the island, and pull them down from their boats and dinghies and into the water below. The only people who could stop it were a couple of teens. You were really trying to appeal to a younger audience too with this book. In order to better capture the atmosphere and characters in your story, you decided to find a place like the one in your book where you could stay while working on it - and there it was.

Crockett Island.

Tiny. Quiet. Only several dozen people lived there and everyone was special in their own way. At first, you were renting a small house. The people who used to live there had moved to the mainland some time prior; as did many others after the faithful spill some years ago. That's how you actually found out about Crockett. An ad in a local newspaper on the mainland later, and this really nice couple was offering you their house on Crockett for a very reasonable rent.

The first few months were strange. Some citizens of Crockett observed you with distrust and apprehension, others were way more curious and friendly. Annie Flynn was among the latter group. Not two days after your arrival were you sitting in the Flynn family home, sharing dinner with their family of three. Four, said Annie. Her oldest son was currently off island, she said. It would take you some more time to find out that he's currently serving a sentence for manslaughter while DUI. You weren't one to judge. God knows you too participated in some wild parties and made a lot of bad decisions. Not ones quite so serious, true, but that didn't matter to you. You've grown quite close to the Flynn family over time. Also to the Scarboroughs, the Gunnings and the new sheriff and his son.

Sheriff Hassan, just like you, was a newcomer to the island, and despite having come before you did, he seemed to have it even harder because of his religious beliefs. It took you no time at all to figure out that the folk on Crockett Island were quite religious and many of them attended the Sunday mass in the church of St. Patrick. Having not grown up in a religious household, everything you knew about religions was from what you've studied yourself, and while you didn't necessarily affiliate yourself with any of them, you did believe in some kind of higher power.

Annie Flynn once invited you to tag along for the Sunday mass and you had agreed. The parish priest, Monsignor John Pruitt, was an older gentleman. His years were visibly catching up to him, and it was rather visible even to the untrained eye. While he was obviously absolutely devoted to his faith and had great knowledge of the holy book, his mind seemed to be wandering elsewhere from time to time. Even so, you enjoyed listening to his sermon, and it was obvious that he was well beloved by his flock. Unfortunately, this is where you finally came face to face with one not so lovely citizen of Crockett Island.

Miss Beverly Keane. Just the look she gave you as she noticed you among the crowd in front of the church. "So, you must be the outsider, then," she began, a thin, tense smile on her lips, but not within her eyes, "Annie Flynn's told me about you, of course. However, pardon me, if I'm mistaken, but you've been here for a few weeks now haven't you? This is the first time I see you here." You didn't like her expression one bit. Smug and self-righteous, as if she caught you in a lie. You suddenly felt like you've done something bad, and she was about to mock you for it and threaten to tell your parents. A stupid thought, really, but she did make you feel this way. "I'm not exactly a catholic. I'm not exactly anything either," you admitted honestly. You had no reason to lie. "But I'm open minded and I did read the Bible. I wanted to hear the sermon and also figured that this church," you motioned with your left hand, "is kind of the centre point for the island, isn't it. Since I'll be staying for a while, I thought I could perhaps meet the folk around here." The look on her face told you she wanted to retort with something, but she only took on the previous tense smile and said the important thing is that you're here now.

And then Erin came.

Following old Mrs. Greene's (whom you didn't know very well) passing, her daughter Erin, who's been living off the island for years now, came to take care of her mother's funeral and ultimately decided to stay. You actually met her on the ferry as you were coming back from a trip on the mainland. You looked at her and she looked at you and you finally recognised you didn't recognise each other at all. And you started talking.

Since then, you stopped counting your days on the island. Your book was long since finished and published, yet you stayed. The family whose house you've been renting contacted you about possibly buying in from them, for a fair price. And you said yes. Your family offered to have the rest of your possessions delivered to Crockett. And you said yes. Erin asked you to come with her to every Sunday mass. And you said yes. For some reason, this small, sparsely populated town has started to feel like home. Things weren't perfect, but they were fine. Life was slow and quiet. The islanders warmed up to you, little by little, until you were one of their own. Their neighbour. And you found you could no longer imagine waking up and not smelling the crisp salty sea air. And life was fine.

---

"Sunday's tomorrow," said Erin off-handedly, folding some laundry on her dining table. You murmured in agreement, mostly just paying attention to the words you wrote on your laptop, and the mug of tea in your hand. It's become so normal. You and Erin would be at your or her place, talking, playing games, watching films, or just doing your own activities in each other's presence. "Monsignor Pruitt will be back," offered Erin again. You raised your eyes from the screen: "He made it back safe, then?" That made Erin pause. "Actually," she breathed in, "I don't know. Nobody's seen him yet, really. And, I mean, Bev's been putting welcome messages on the church side, and she gave him instructions and what not...Yeah, he'll be back."

You weren't quite so sure. The old man seemed rather confused when you first came. Months later, his health only worsened. You were in doubt that the trip to holy lands was the right call. While still not outright religious, you have grown fond of the monsignor, just as you have grown fond of everyone else, and you were rather worried about him the entire duration of his expedition.

The next day, you sat with Erin in your usual pew at Saint Patrick's. You saw her as she smiled at a boy whom you haven't seen before, sitting in a pew with Annie and Ed Flynn, but before you could ask her about him, the mass had begun. The churchgoers rose and opened their hymnals. You sang with them. Then, there was a strange moment. It seemed to you that some of the people's singing hitched, before returning to normal, while others stopped singing all together. You turned your head in curiosity and found yourself momentarily mute as well. Walking in a golden chasuble behind Warren Flynn and a boy named Ooker wasn't the old Monsignor Pruitt. Instead there was a total stranger. Tall and lean, with thick, wavy jet black hair, thick eyebrows, large dark eyes and, what you thought were, pretty lips. He too sang and his voice, rich and soulful, mesmerised you.

The stranger bowed down before the altar and took his stand behind it, facing his flock. You sat down. He introduced himself as Father Paul Hill and explained that Monsignor John Pruitt has fallen ill on his trip and won't be returning for the time being. He begins his sermon. You had quite enjoyed going to mass before, despite your near-atheism, and you liked the hymns and you liked hearing Monsignor Pruitt talk. But when Paul started talking, it felt like a fire had suddenly settled within your core. No, not a fire, a light. A gentle light emanating a pleasant warmth, definitely not a scorching, destructive fire. Monsignor Pruitt was devoted, and so was Father Paul, but Paul's young energy, and his passion for the word of god made Sunday mass seem like a performance, like an unreachable piece of art. You sat there, drinking in his every word and found yourself wanting to believe them. Wanting to believe him. Once everyone started getting up and lining up for communion, you sat behind, like you always did. Only this time, you weren't alone. The boy you saw earlier still sat in his pew as well. When everyone received their wafer and a sip of wine, they slowly started to stream out of the church. You were still so flabbergasted and amazed by Father Paul's sermon, you were actually one of the last ones to leave. From the church doors you saw Erin wink at you before she walked slowly away with the boy from earlier.

Before you could make your way home too however, a figure stepped in front of you. "You must be (F/N) (L/N). Monsignor Pruitt mentioned you do not take communion," said Father Paul warmly. You had to look up at him a bit, as he really was a tall man. There was a friendly smile on his face and his eyes were kind and inviting. So very unlike Bev Keane's upon your first interaction with her. You gazed into the priest's dark orbs and felt like you've known him your entire life, and like he knew you too. You felt instantly at ease, instantly trusting. "You see, I'm not a catholic. Not really. I'm not even baptised. It wouldn't be right." Father Paul smiles some more and nods in understanding. "Well, never too late to become one," you chuckle, "so I can believe you'll be honest with me and tell me what you, as a 'non-catholic' thought of my sermon?" The way he looks at you, keeping eye contact, with an air of confidence, but with no smugness or conceit, it makes you nearly instantly fond of him. You think for a moment, whether you should praise him for his skill, or play it cool and nonchalant. As always, you decided that honesty is key. "I was amazed," you said seriously, reciprocating his eye contact, "to be honest, I think many people genuinely believe in God thanks to their pastor. And you, um," you felt yourself blushing a bit and instinctively cast your eyes down, "I think you're very convincing." His smile faltered for the tiniest of moments and a strange look appeared in his eyes, before he grinned at you once more, and this time it was positively radiant, like a while of sunshine on a rainy day. "Convinced you, then?" he asks, his voice teasing, nearly mischievous. You couldn't keep yourself from smiling too, slightly coyly: "Oh, I don't know. I'll see next Sunday." You bid your farewell to Father Paul and went home. You'd deny it to anyone, but there was a bit of a pep in your step.

---

The Crock Pot Luck. Despite the town's small population, the spring festival was really something else.

It was Ash Wednesday and Erin made you get your blessing and a sooty cross from Father Paul. You stood before him, closer than before and with your neck craned up more. Standing so close, you admired just how handsome he is, all soft lines and smouldering eyes. The corners of his lips twitched when he saw you. "Remember, (F/N), you are dust, and to dust you shall return" he spoke softly as he dipped his thumb into a bowl in his other hand which contained the ashes. He then brought his right hand up and very gently drew a cross on your forehead: "Bless you, my child."

So now you were sitting with Erin at a bench, listening to the live music, chatting amicably and people-watching. Since Erin was pregnant, she was nursing a lemonade with a paper straw and you treated yourself to a glass of wine you traded for your drink ticket. It was sunny and very mild for the beginning of spring, and you already took your jacket off and were only sitting in a light jumper. Erin was looking to the side of you. You gazed in the same direction and saw Father Paul and Riley Flynn talking on a bench near the edge of the festival. Erin's told you all about Riley after the first mass with Father Paul and actually introduced you to him. He was a nice guy, obviously guilt-ridden with what he's done and a bit unwell. However, it seemed that spending time in Erin's company is doing him good. "You should talk to him," you offered to Erin. She lifted her eyebrows questioningly. "You were, like, childhood sweethearts, weren't you. I mean, I can't tell you what to do, but I'm just saying it's obvious he still fancies you." She snorted and shook her head at you. After a moment she sighed and got up: "Well, since neither of us is drinking, I think I'm gonna treat him to a coffee then." You just winked at her and remained sitting. A short while later, the brown haired girl had a cup of coffee in each hand and was on her way to Riley and Father Paul.

You meanwhile returned to people watching. You took in the kids playing bean bag toss nearby and the good Doctor Gunning talking quietly to a lovely woman you hadn't seen before. Some people were dancing in front of the podium. "Is this seat free?" sounded behind you. You didn't even need to turn around, having recognised the priest's voice immediately. Instead you just smiled into your empty glass: "But of course, father, be my guest." And so he did. You grinned at him and noticed he brought two glasses of wine with him. Upon your questioning look, he offered: "I thought it an appropriate apology, seeing as I have pulled you out of your thoughts." He slid one of the glasses your way. As your own wine had long since disappeared, you gracefully accepted. The next few minutes you spent in friendly, comfortable silence, looking around, enjoying the day.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Joe Collie. He was, put mildly, not exactly in favour of the townspeople. Erin's told you about the hunting accident that put poor Leeza Scarborough in a wheelchair most likely for the rest of her life. You personally only talked to Joe a few times. He was nearly always already drunk, or just woke up after a night of drinking. While irresponsible and a slave to his addiction, the man genuinely didn't seem to a have malicious or cruel bone in his body. He went everywhere with his pupper, Pike. Pike was a sweet dog, very large, but amazingly cuddly and friendly, you slipped some treats his way every once in a while. Now it seemed though that somebody else was intent on feeding the mutt. Beverly Keane laid down a hot dog in front of him and walked away rather swiftly. You grew anxious. If there was a person on this island who hated this dog, it was Bev Keane and while not happy about the thought, you had serious doubts that the hot dog was some sort of peace offering. Without a word you rose and half walked, half ran to Pike, snatching the food away before he could as much as lick it. Pike whined unhappily and barked at you, which made Joe Collie turn around to look. "Hey, hey! What the fuck gives?" he growled at you, undecided between defensive and aggressive. You looked at him, the hot dog in your hand just out of Pike's reach with Pike himself whining and looking at you pleadingly. "You should be more careful. Don't let your dog eat something he shouldn't," with that you turned around, tossed the hot dog into a rubbish bin and went back to your seat.

"What was that supposed to mean?" asked Father Paul once you sat down again. You took a sip of your wine and looked around anxiously. "It's just that-" you scratched your neck, "look, I could be very very wrong and I'm not accusing anyone of anything, but," deep breath, "I saw Bev give Pike a hot dog. And she hates Pike, she tried to get Sheriff Hassan to put him down, just for barking at her. And Erin saw her in school yesterday, in the supply cabinet, fiddling with an entire canistre of poison. I just, I'd rather be safe than sorry." You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment and noticed several people staring at you. There were Erin and Riley, their faces questioning and curious, Joe Collie (who has thankfully brought Pike close to him since then) looked confused and apprehensive, and last but not least; Bev Keane, who looked sour and right now probably wishing you ate that hot dog instead. Father Paul cleared his throat to get your attention: "Well, I'm sure it was nothing...But nevertheless, it's very Christian of you to look out for your neighbours like this." You gave him a small smile which he mirrored with his own, before he began speaking again: "Anyway, about Christianity-" you quietly groaned and rolled your eyes, but kept on smiling and listening.

You and Father Paul had talked late into the evening. It had started as a friendly discussion about religion and Christianity, slowly progressed to getting to know each other and stories of your lives before coming to Crockett Island, before finally becoming a pleasant banter about everything and nothing. The band has long since abandoned the stage, people had packed up the tents and most of those few who remained were currently sitting around a bonfire, talking, singing, or just relaxing. Darkness has fallen and enveloped you and Father Paul like a comforting blanket. You could barely see his face, the only light sources being the bonfire some 60 feet away and a lone street light even farther. A nice feeling of fatigue has started to come over you and you barely stifled a yawn. Father Paul noticed and even in the dim light you could see the white of his teeth flash in a grin. "I can't see my watches, but I'm going to guess it's late," he said with an amused tone. You fished out your phone out of the pocket of your jacket, which you put back on when the temperature dropped with the oncoming night, and glanced at the screen. You immediately regretted it, as you had kept the brightness on 100% and felt like your retina was about to burn to ashes. "It's not even that late, to be honest," you said, trying to cover up another yawn fighting its way through you, "just after half past nine. But I didn't get much sleep yesterday, so I'm a bit tired." You put your phone back into your pocket. Father Hill stood up and reached out a hand to you. You looked at him questioningly. "I'll walk you home," he clarified. You've been living on Crocket Island for quite some time, walked the entire place (including the cat filled Uppards) many times and you were pretty sure you could find your way home blindfolded. Not to mention it's perfectly safe for a woman to walk home alone at night here.

And yet.

And yet you took the Father's offered hand and let him pull you to your feet. He then repositioned your hand to his right arm and started walking. "My, my, father, who knew priests were such gentlemen?" you teased him softly but let him walk you anyway. Truth be told, it felt nice to be in the centre of attention of such a handsome man. 'The handsome man is a priest' spoke a guilty voice in your head, but you managed to quiet it down. You weren't doing anything bad, therefore you had no reason to feel guilty. A friendly priest was simply escorting you home to make sure you're safe from the dangers of... um, stray cats, you supposed. "I'd simply hate for you to fall asleep somewhere on your way because I kept you so long." Or that, that works too, you thought to yourself and chuckled and he followed suit.

When you reached your front door, you let go of his arm to find your keys. You learnt that many people on the island don't lock their homes, even if they're asleep or not present, and while the safety of the island was one of the reasons you stayed, you still didn't feel comfortable just leaving your door unlocked. Finally you found your keys and opened the door. "Would you," you began, turning back around to face Paul, "would you like something, like a cup of tea, or a cocoa?" Father Paul smiled and you could see him better now since you were standing closer to a street lamp. "Are you not tired anymore?" he teased. "Oh, I am, a bit, but you're obviously not," you countered in the same tone, "so you can have a cuppa and go home afterwards and I'll just pass out on the couch." Father Paul laughed earnestly at that and it was one of the most beautiful sounds you've ever heard. One of the prettiest sights too. "You're very kind, and I'll surely take you up on that offer sometime, but tonight I'll leave you to get your beauty sleep," he said with that same kind and honest smile you were sure he probably got patented and turned to leave. Before he did though, he couldn't quite stop himself from one last retort: "I'll see you in mass on Sunday. Let's see about that convincing." Wink. He just winked at you. You couldn't help but giggle and roll your eyes: "Good night, father," you said cheekily as you retreated into your house and shut the door.

As you set about your evening routine, you couldn't stop thinking about him. True, your mind was on other things too, like Erin and Riley's rediscovered affection, poor Leeza in her wheelchair, and the (in your eyes) very real danger of Bev Keane almost killing Joe Collie's dog. But everytime your mind came back to him. You thought about his eyes, how they looked at every stage of the sunset and how the light in them seemed to shine even after the sun submerged itself below the horizon completely. And you thought about his voice, how it always slightly changed with the matter discussed, from serious and intense, to light and amused. And right before you drifted off to sleep you allowed yourself to think of the priest's pretty, kissable lips. Just for that tiny little moment.

---

You probably just became religious.

All you could do was gawk like a demented owl as Leeza Scarborough took a step after step towards Father Paul to get her communion. Your expression wasn't that different from other people in the church. Many had their mouths open in which would in any other situation be a hilarious way. Some people were tearing up. Some were praying hard. Leeza's parents, Wade and Dolly were ugly sobbing and covering their mouths. Leeza then turned around to face everyone. You've never seen anyone's face containing so many emotions at once. Shock and disbelief soon turned to a look of ecstasy, so wild and raw and unhinged, just looking at her you wanted to scream and laugh and cry in manic happiness. For the first time in your life, you folded your hands together, bent down slightly and started praying. You thanked God, thanked him for letting Leeza walk again, thanked him for showing the young girl his mercy and humbly asked that he keep her healthy. After your quiet 'Amen' you felt another hand enveloping yours. It was Erin. She took you hand in hers and held it tight, looked at you with tears in her eyes and without a word the two of you embraced hard. She then wiped her other hand over her face to clean off the few tears that escaped. The mass ended soon afterwards. The Scarboroughs thanked Father Paul profusely, before excusing themselves in order to visit Dr Gunning about their daughter's miraculous healing. Erin and Riley left together once more and many others walked away in groups, talking loudly and praying among themselves. Just like after the first mass with Father Paul, you were bewildered and stayed behind.

"If you don't believe in God after this, I'm not sure what else you want," sounded an acerbic voice from somewhere to the side. Turning your head, you saw Bev Keane. You hadn't spoken to her at all after Crock Pot Luck and when she tried to approach you, you hurriedly made yourself look busy or caught in a conversation with someone else. It wasn't strange for you to chat up Sheriff Hassan amicably for quite a while, but this one particular while was so long, even he noticed. After Bev got tired of waiting and left, you awkwardly explained your predicament and he immediately nodded his head in understanding. Right now, though, there was really nobody to save you from this woman, and you couldn't exactly manifest a hammer and nails out of thin air to tell her you were busy, what, reinforcing the church walls?

So you accepted your fate, stood up from the pew and went to face her straight on, feeling like a knight about to fight a dragon. She observed you coldly, like usual, but when you looked into her eyes, you realised something. She knew. She knew you saw her giving Pike the hot dog. And in that moment, you also knew that you were right to step in. "Oh, but I never said I didn't believe in God," you said softly, trying to appear as calm and polite as you could, "I just said I'm not Catholic, that I don't have a religion." That seemed to take the wind out of her sails, but she recovered quickly: "Well then, maybe you'll reconsider. You're not really local, so you wouldn't know, but religion is a big part of this community. You see, you come here every Sunday, accept blessings and get to experience God's miracles right before your eyes and still you won't join us,won't commit yourself? Won't give anything back to the community?" Now was your turn to shut up and stare at her, disbelief fetched on your face. "What are you saying?" you asked quietly. Bev smiled at you, a mean smile: "I'm only saying, that if you really do plan on, well, staying here, on this island, the very least you could do is try to fit in and become a part of this community, not just leech on it."

You could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. You knew she was a cruel woman, that she was trying to purposely hurt you, but a small voice inside your head started asking the little nasty questions anyway. 'Am I really leeching on these people?', 'Should I just go and become a catholic? Will I be driven out if I won't?', 'Am I not welcomed here anymore? Should I stop going here?' You tried to will yourself, you tried to be strong, to gather the courage to tell her off, but a single tear had already rolled over the edge and landed on your cheek, slowly running down all the way to your chin and then falling down onto the wooden floor of Saint Patrick's it fell.

"That's enough," said a different voice, one that made you quickly wipe the tear track off your cheek with the sleeve of your jumper and made Bev Keane freeze like a statue. A gentle hand landed on your right shoulder and a comforting warmth settled on your left side as Father Paul appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to your rescue. "Beverly, this is the house of God," he said, and while he was as soft-spoken as he always is, there was a stern and cold undertone in his rich voice, "The doors are always open just as the gates are always open, to anyone and everyone who comes with peace and humility. One's religion is one's own choice and I am more than happy to interpret from the Bible to all, be they Catholic or not." Bev just stared at him, her expression that of a child who knew they were caught doing something bad, but weren't feeling guilty about it. "I didn't mean anything by it," she said in the most sickeningly sweet voice and smiled, "I was only imploring our friend to consider her decisions. Father, (F/N) (L/N)." And with that she'd spun on her heel and left.

Father Paul's arm was still wrapped gently around your shoulders. You stood, your look transfixed to the ground where your tear fell and you felt terribly tiny. Just fifteen minutes ago, you felt over the moon with happiness and gratefulness for little Leeza and now you just wanted to go home, bury yourself under pillows and blankets and never leave the house again. "Come on," said Father Paul, the coldness in his voice gone and replaced with comfort, "let's get you some tea." He led you out the back of the church, still with his arm around you, and you let him. Before you knew it, you were at the rectory and he opened the door. His home was humble, there was a small sofa on the left of the door sat in front of an old telly. On the right was a desk and several chairs. Behind them stood a tall bookshelf filled with books. On the far left side was a kitchen with the basic necessities, a stove with an oven, a sink, and an old-timey refrigerator. To the back of the room were doors leading to Father Paul's bedroom. You presumed the bathroom was somewhere in the back.

Father Paul sat you down onto the tiny sofa and set about making you a cup of tea. You sat quietly for a while, just staring into space. “Am I really just leeching off these people?” you couldn’t stop yourself from saying out loud. The priest ceased his movement just as he was about to put the kettle on. After a second or two, he finally fired the stove up and put the kettle down. “No,” he said and came slowly into your view. Father Paul, young, fit, and already beloved and respected by his congregation, got to his knee in front of you and grasped your hands, “No, you’re not. You came to an island which most people leave and decided to stay. You care about these people, you try to help them as best as you can and you are actively trying to be one of them. And they see it. They realise it. And even if you never become religious, if you never come to get your holy communion, you’ll always have your place here. On this island, with these people, in this church. So don’t let what Bev says get to you, okay?” New tears were threatening to spill as you listened to Father Paul. You felt a soft finger underneath your chin and you looked up into the pastor’s soft, gentle eyes. And when you did, he gave you the kindest smile yet. And even as you did let the tears fall freely, you smiled right back at him.

—

It became something of a habit. At least twice a week you and Father Paul would meet outside of church, either at your home or the rectory, for a cup of tea and a chat. Ever since the little incident with Bev, you found that you could talk more freely with him. About everything, really. You talked some more about religion and Catholicism and he explained to you how one who wasn't born into a catholic family and baptised even becomes a catholic. Seeing as you had no knowledge about actually entering the church, your brain spun from all the information rather quickly. That some people can spend whole years as catechumens, before they're actually ready to be baptised and that the rite of election usually starts on the first Sunday of lent. The actual initiation to catholic church then takes place on Easter vigil. It was a lot to take in, but Father Paul remained forever patient, and always willing to explain.

You talked about many other things too. You learned some time ago that he had taken it upon himself to lead a local AA group, so that Riley didn't need to waste the entire day away just to go to and from the mainland. Paul came around one evening looking very happy and proud. He told you about Joe Collie, whom Leeza Scarborough forgave the bizarre 'hunting' accident and who in turn decided to give up drinking. You enthusiastically listened to him talk about homilies he was preparing and the awaited Easter vigil. He even shared some not so public stories, like how he found Warren Flynn secretly snogging Leeza behind the church after one of the masses, or how he heard Erin pray for the health of her baby and had a hard time keeping from chuckling as he overheard her whisper 'Oh, and please let it be a girl, amen' before she ran out of the church. You in turn told him about a new book you were working on, or about your attempts at drawing and painting. You once invited him out for a walk through the small forest behind the church and he happily accepted. And that became a habit too.

However, with every day, every cup of tea, every walk and every Sunday mass, it became more and more difficult for you to be in Paul's almost saintly presence and stop yourself from thinking positively sinful thoughts. More and more you find yourself looking at his beautiful lips, thinking how velvety soft they must be and how sweet they must taste. When he puts his large gentle hand on the small of your back, you find yourself wishing he'd take your face in his hands, or run his elegant fingers through your hair. When he wraps an arm around your shoulders amicably, all you see in your mind's eye are his long, strong arms enveloping you in their heat and safety until you know nothing else. And when he speaks, you imagine lying with him, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his voice, as he talks to you softly. Not to mention the even more wickedly sinful impure thoughts. All in all, you found yourself desperately, maddly and absolutely in love with your friend, who just so happens to be a catholic priest.

As Easter vigil approached, it became even harder, as Paul seemed to always find a reason to touch you. Brushing his fingers along yours as he was handing you your tea, or laying his hand on yours after you had made him laugh. When on a walk, he'd put his hand on your back more often than not and once, when he discovered a lovely place that overlooked the entire island, he actually led you there by hand, linking your fingers together. You decided you couldn't live like this anymore. To know you love someone and feel them so close to you, only to have them taken away again as reality kicks in feels like a heartbreak every time. To love someone as a friend and needing to have constant self control over yourself, else you let your instincts take over and risk driving the person away is exhausting. And honestly, you weren't even sure what was worse. When Paul once told you 'I'm so glad you're here with me' with that smile of his and the ever so kind and gentle look in his eyes, you wanted to tell him. You wanted to kiss him, to fly into his arms and never leave them and hating yourself for the very thought. And as much as he was fond of you, you knew that he would never leave his flock, wouldn't turn his back to his god for an earthly temptation, and therefore you would never actually know what it was like to kiss him.

Some people took notice of your rotten mood whenever you came down from the high you got when in his presence. Annie tried to cheer you up by her cooking, for which you were eternally grateful, but it didn't help. Sheriff Hassan tried to lift your spirits by telling your far fetched and utterly ridiculous stories from his time as a policeman. You did laugh at all of them, but it didn't help. You could spend hours and hours playing with Pike, but it would never be enough. Erin was the only one who actually addressed the issue openly, pleading with you to tell her what is actually wrong. And, for some bizarre reason, you actually did. You told her about your infatuation with Father Paul and how much he means to you not only as a priest and a friend, but also as a man. Erin listened. She didn't judge you and she didn't mock you. She didn't call you a sinner and she didn't even chastise you. After what felt like hours of you spilling all of your frustration with your predicament, she finally spoke: "You should tell him." "What?" you sputtered, bewildered. "You heard me," she said, "you should tell him. If anything, you'll get it out of your system. Maybe it'll get better." You sat down heavily on her couch and put your head in your hands. You sighed and muttered into your palms. "What was that?" said Erin, genuinely not having understood you. You looked up at her, miserably: "What if he hates me?" You honestly felt like crying, but strangely dull at the same time. "He could never hate you. You're probably his most favourite person on this island, if all the little forest dates are anything to go by," Erin said, amused. You however felt there was nothing humorous about your situation and only covered your face again. "He won't hate you. Just tell him. Maybe you'll even be surprised." Those were words you'd desperately wanted to believe, but found it difficult to. "He's a priest, Erin. After Leeza, nearly the entire island attends his mass. I even saw Joe hanging around at the last one… There's no way… To be honest I-" you stopped for a moment, "I think it might be better if I left."

Neither of you said anything for the longest time. You were softly weeping into your hands while Erin stared at the back of your head in disbelief. "You… You would actually leave? You'd actually leave this all behind?" she was saying as if it was physically impossible to imagine such a thing, "you would leave me and the little one? You would just pack up and leave your home, your neighbours, even after they finally accepted you as one of their own? I'm sorry (Y/N), but that's bullshit!" You winced at the shrill of her voice. "That's bullshit and you know it. Come on," her voice went down again as she noticed your shoulders shake. Gently she rubbed circles into your back before taking a hold of your wrists with her free hand and pulling them away from your face. "Do you mean that?" she then asked, her voice quiet and soft now, "would you actually leave me here all on my own, the only sane woman?" Through teary eyes you looked at her and truthfully admitted: "I would never leave you behind." Erin pulled you close, put your head on her shoulder and made small shushing noises as you gradually calmed down. "I'll tell him," you promised then, "after the Easter vigil."

—

The Easter vigil in Saint Patrick's was a beautiful thing to experience. The entire island, including you, walked to the church using candles to light your way while singing hymns. You felt so entirely light as you walked next to the Scarboroughs and the Flynns. You sang too, and you let your heart replace your brain momentarily, just so you could enjoy the celebration. You let the amazing blessed things fall on your shoulders at once. The Flynn family and their reconciliation, the Scarboroughs and their miracle, Erin and her little one, Joe Collie and his ultimate sign to be a better man. All at once you felt the goodness. And it nearly brought a tear to your eye. Good things are still happening and there are good people to experience them. But this all faded as you laid your eyes on Father Paul. He read from the old books up until the crucifiction of Christ, his death and his revival. And while you deeply enjoyed hearing him talk, you suddenly felt like there was a stone blocking your airway. And you felt like it would suffocate you surely, until-

"So how's that for convincing?" asked Father Paul. All people present were slowly leaving the church. Erin looked at you once, gave you a nod, and then left with Riley. "Listen, um," you looked up at him, and your desperation was probably very visible in your eyes, for his entire focus shifted to you, "I need to talk to you. Privately."

Father Paul just nodded and took your hand once more. He didn't let go until you were in the rectory, sat on his bed for some reason. Only then did he ask what's on your mind. It was so quick you hadn't even been able to build your defenses,or make any sort of back up plan, etc. You just decided to speak.

"I can't become a catholic," you blurted out, feeling a bit sick to your stomach. "Oh," said Father Paul immediately, "why not?" "Because I'm sinning right now, father…" "Why is that?" said Father Paul, his cool facade melting ever so slowly. "Because I'm wanting, father. Because I'm lusting. I'm lusting after a man of the cloth and I feel like I love him. I'm a sinner, because I wish to feel his warmth close to me and I wish to be on his mind always. I want him to kiss me senseless and make me his. Forgive me father, for I have sinned and I am sinning as we speak." You caught your breath finally and looked into Father Paul's eyes. They were nearly unreadable to you, but you saw something within them anyway. A hunger. And when you looked a little closer, you saw there was something you could only call love too.

Father Paul Hill slowly wrapped his arms around you and pressed his soft lips upon yours. And for a little while you felt like you were lost. Lost in the divine sensation of sweet soft lips melting against your own. Your fingers tangled into his hair and he grabbed you as if you were the only thing keeping him alive. You moaned softly as he pulled you into his lap. Being so close to him, your entire brain shut down and you only felt the sensations. The sensation of him kissing up and down your neck, of his arms linking around you so tightly, of teeth nibbling on each inch of exposed skin. You were so lost in pleasure and adoration you almost missed the one sentence you wished to hear, but never thought you actually would. "I love you," sighed Father Paul inbetween kisses. You gasped, but recovered very quickly and pulled him tighter into you. Gently, you grasped at his raven locks and made him look at your face; in your eyes. "I love you too," you replied and pulled him close once more. So forbidden and yet so right, you had no idea what would happen next. One thing you did know though; as long as you and Father Paul laid upon his bed, your lips red and swollen from kissing and your hearts light and filled with love - Life is going to be just fine.

I hope you liked it. I’ll be a happy little sucker if you tell me whatcha think or check this story out on AO3 thank xx

#midnight mass #fanfiction #father paul hill #father paul #father paul x reader #father paul/reader #i love you hamish linklater #erin greene #riley flynn #fluff #no smut #sfw #everyone lives au #nobody dies #fix-it #no vampires au #midnight mass fanfiction

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mochie85 · 2 years

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Such Great Heights

One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

One-shots based on this May prompt list. Prompt 08: Cobwebs Prompt 09: "Just jump! What's the worst that could happen?"

A/N: I combined two prompts again for this one. I hope you like it. As always, my ASKS are open. Let me know if you want to be on my taglist. Warnings: Skydiving fluff. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Word Count: Over 1.4K

You hugged your pack tightly around yourself. “I’m not gonna hurl. I’m not gonna hurl,” you whispered to yourself. The rumble of the jet spooked you. You were normally fine flying on a plane. You’ve flown countless times on the jet. You’ve even piloted once or twice. But you’ve never jumped off!

“Come on. You can do this!” Sam encouraged you.

“Says the guy with wings.” You shot back. You started rocking yourself in your seat. Closing your eyes. Breathing rapidly. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You have to do this. Sam was training everyone on jumping and landing safety. “Because you never know when you have to make an emergency drop from a falling plane,” he said.

Tony had the suit. Sam had the wings. Both Bucky and Steve were Super Soldiers. They all could survive a fall from great heights. You were just a sniper. You preferred to be on the ground, camouflaged. Hunting your next target.

Nat had once told you it felt very liberating and quiet. It’s a rush of wind and excitement, but once you pull that chute, everything is at a standstill and you get to see a view that very few people ever get to see. “Peace and calm surround you,” she said.

“Peace and calm. Peace and calm.” You kept repeating.

“Hey darlin’, look at me.” Steve knelt down in front of you. He took your shaking hands in his and looked you straight in the eyes. “I know it’s scary. But I’ll be watching over you every step of the way, okay?”

“Okay.” You replied weakly.

“I’ll jump first. Then I’ll meet you down there when we land. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve flashed his smile and you instantly felt calmer. “Stand up and let’s get ready,” he instructed you.

You stood up, clutching your pack even tighter. Steve circled you, checking your straps, pulling on your harness, buckling things around your thighs, and securing your pack onto your back.

His touch was nimble but solid. You could feel the pressure from his large hands when he would pull on a strap, holding your body back, tightening the strap further. If it weren’t for the current situation you would be blushing at the intimate way Steve was holding you right now.

Steve had a soft spot for you ever since you started working with the Avengers. You were smart, capable, and most importantly easygoing. It saved him several times in high-pressure situations. You always kept a cool head and he found himself gravitating towards you and your tranquility.

He has never seen you out of sorts before. He wanted you to feel calm. To give you peace, as you do for him. “Do you like tying people up, Cap?” You jokingly asked him, noting his familiarity with harnesses and knots. He recognized your attempt to lighten the situation.

“Only the bad girls.” He whispered pulling extra tight on a strap that went around your groin, making you moan. “And good girls. If they ask nicely,” he said with a smirk.

For once, on this whole trip, you were left breathless. You only meant to say how well he was being attentive to you and his mastery of the knots. Not once did you ever think that the Captain would have a bondage fetish!? Let alone admit it to you. Your mouth went dry.

You started picturing your hands tied above your head as Steve commanded your body and lavished it with his touch and attention. Just like he was doing now. His bearded kisses trailing up and down your torso, tickling you until he would reach the sensitive, wet, heat in between your thighs.

Steve looked into your eyes and he could see you picturing things that he’s been wanting to do to you for a very long time. He held your gaze, a silent promise of the things he would do to you later.

The back hanger opened, and all of a sudden the air got thinner. The rushing wind filled the cabin with noise and tried to suction you out.

“You’re turning a little blue. Breathe for me, doll.” Steve yelled out as you took a sharp intake of breath. “That’s it. One more.” You took a deep slow breath, staring into his crystal blue eyes. “That’s a good girl.” He said. The blush returned. You could feel the air cooling your heated cheeks. God, I hope no one else can hear him. Or worse, see what it’s doing to me.

“Oi, is that the pack I brought out from storage?” Bucky said pointing to the one you were strapped to. “You sure that’s still good? I had to dust cobwebs off of it.” Bucky laughed as he teased you.

“Knock it off, jerk,” Steve said punching his friend in the arm. Bucky just laughed as he made his way to the opened hanger and jumped. “Don’t listen to him. I checked the pack myself.”

“His chute! He had no chute!” You yelled to Steve.

“Eh. He’s fine. He’ll survive. We’re not that high up. We had to go lower in altitude because of the weather. You ready to go?” He asked you. You looked up into his blue eyes and shook your head. Steve chuckled as he did one last tug on the straps and held your hand.

Your breathing got faster. You started to get lightheaded. Steve led you closer and closer to the edge of the hanger, walking backward. “Eyes on me, doll.” He said to you. “Take a deep breath. You can do this.”

“Yeah, just jump. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam asked.

“I COULD DIE!” you yelled out.

Steve held your face. “Eyes on me.” He commanded. “You’re not going to die. You’re one of the bravest women I know. You’re going to jump, you’re going to count, then you will pull your chute. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.” You said nodding. Steve raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Captain.” You amended. He seemed to like that answer because you noted his gaze turning deviant and his stare going down to your lips.

“I’ll see you down there,” Steve said letting go of your face and jumping off the back of the jet. You watched him free fall down until you couldn’t see him anymore. You stepped onto the lip of the door. I can do this! I can do this! You took one last breath and dove headfirst off the plane.

It was so loud! The wind passing by you, the complete feeling of weightlessness. It was far more exhilarating than any rollercoaster you’ve ever been on. You opened up like a starfish, feeling the air pushing your limbs back. It felt so freeing.

You counted, then you pulled the chord. It felt like the brakes were pulled and you just stopped. At least that’s what it felt like. Really, you just slowed down. Looking around, you could see the Atlantic not too far off. You saw fields and the bright expanse of the city. It was a breathtaking view. Nat was right. It was calm. No noise. Just peace.

You saw your landing field to the left and you pulled one of your chords slightly to turn yourself in that direction. It seemed like the world was coming to greet you and everything started getting bigger and more detailed. A figure was standing by on the field. You recognized Steve as he tried to make his way over to you.

“Hit the ground running!” you remember Sam saying, and that’s what you did. As soon as your toes touched the ground you started running, feeling faster and lighter because the chute was still holding most of your weight. You ran towards Steve as he held his arms out to catch you.

You ran straight into his arms and he caught you in a crushing hug. You laughed and yelled as the adrenaline coursed through your body. The rest of the chute landed on top of both of you, covering you in hues of red and white.

Steve knew he didn’t have long before Bucky found the two of you or Sam would land next to you. He grabbed your face steady, and with all the adrenaline coursing through him, he pressed his lips to yours. You opened your mouth for a breath and he invited his tongue inside, caressing your tongue and sucking your top lip.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You needed him to be closer to you. The energy in your body wouldn’t let you rest otherwise.

He broke the kiss and grabbed your chin. “Hmm. Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll reward you later.” He said tugging on your harness, making you moan, and releasing the chute.

#writing ideas #fic prompt #mcu #@deity-prompts #steve x reader #steven grant rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #stevebucky #steve rogers fluff #skydiving #praise #bond@ge

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fromfaewithlove · 4 months

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Some Reflections on My Time in Europe So Far.

Ive been here for almost a month now so I thought I’d share a little specifically as it pertains to race, gender, languages, and nationalities. European racism isn’t better or worse it’s just more awkward also it’s very dependent on gender.

In the northwestern big cities Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin etc it was pretty normal / non noticeable but there’s a lot of young black people there and all kinds of black as well. Biracial, African American, East and West African, and a lots of islanders so we fit in pretty seamlessly. When approached people assumed I was French Canadian and that he was from Texas (lol we have very different accents). If we didn’t speak at all people in the Netherlands assumed we were Afro-German students. The real tensions didn’t arise till we went southwest to Italy.

As soon as we crossed into the country from the Swiss border Italian police pulled my boyfriend off the train and started yelling at him in Spanish asking if he was a Colombian drug dealer and they tore through our bags (we’re both afrolatinos and mostly speaking Spanish in Italy because we don’t know Italian he also has a thick Ecuadorian accent from living there) We were asked if we were Colombian several times -even after they had our American passports. However once we pulled out our college ID’s and threw around some ultra midwestern slang (a few over drawn howdies and yeppers) their tones changed and all of sudden they claimed they were helping us not profiling.

They did the same thing to a group of Asian girls demanding them to give up all their fentanyl - I felt so bad for them they weren’t older than 15 on a student exchange and the cops wouldn’t let their host parents step in at all. Multiple people tried to step in for both my bf and I as well as the other girls but the cops were pretty hostile to them too. Eventually they let us all go but the whole debacle made us miss our next connecting train. Overall me and my bf experienced the worst xenophobia when we spoke Spanish. When addressing the authorities English was always our best bet. Unfortunately this was not our only experience with Italian law enforcement on this trip.

I was genuinely just ignored a lot when I wasn’t with my bf which was fine by me. I didn’t associate it with racism as much as people who didn’t speak English not attempting to speak to me unless they absolutely had to (waiters, airline workers, people working in shops). People weren’t necessarily as nice or as helpful but it seemed to be more of a difference in work culture in general. Customer service is just a much bigger thing in the states. Service with a smile just doesn’t really exist here. Additionally, contrary to common belief ( i.e. TikTok videos about girls trying to speak in their target language and being quickly shut down) most people in Europe don’t actually speak English and it’s a hassle for them to try. They speak about as much English as Americans who last took a language class in middle school and now open Duolingo 3x a year claim to know a little Spanish.

However once I spoke French things changed tune. No matter what country I’m in I received the best customer service (which wasn’t much lol) when I spoke French. I equate this to French just being a significantly easier linguistic switch to make in countries that already speak Romance languages. And France being significantly closer than England or the States.

We experienced some racism from other Americans abroad who assumed me and boyfriend were thieves. It was fucking hilarious. In most Italian train stations there are loud PA announcements in English warning people to look out for pickpockets and guaranteed you know who the Americans were because they would immediately stare at us like they saw the ghost of negroes past while checking for their belongings. At one point I failed to contain myself with this one woman i was waiting in line behind in order to get a train ticket and said “oh please bitch you’re okay”.

It was so funny tho cause I’d watch Italian teens pickpocket and steal and they weren’t necessarily good at it - it was just that most of the tourists were too racist to pay attention to who the real thieves were. They weren’t looking for the normal looking European guy in converse in jeans that’s inching up on them, they were trying to avoid the POC. I will say, in Italy a few guys tried it unsuccessfully just because they’d be so obvious (granted I’m from a big city so I’m used to knowing when someone is trying to get me in a situation and pretty adept at getting out of them).

Regardless of the culture shock and xenophobia/racism. I know for a fact I’m gonna move back to Italy in less than a year. It’s beautiful and warm year round, housing and food are so much more affordable and it’s without the same threat of political instability that currently exists is other places I was considered moving to. Additionally this racism just isn’t as bad. In America racists treat me like I’m a threat to their very existence, here i mostly felt like an alien that people weren’t sure how to address. And free college + affordable healthcare and greater access to travel and study/use more languages are absolutely worth a few awkward uncomfortable situations for me.

#reflections #thought dump #travel writing

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xstrengthxinxtragedyx · 2 years

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Of Crimes Committed And Ideas Born, Dani Ardor And Luther Donovan.

Dani Ardor had been put in prison for two consecutive sentences for killing her sister and her boyfriend in the most heinous of ways after finding out that they had been sneaking around behind her back. She furrowed her brows as her lips were pressed together, sure she was broken and damaged in many ways that had left her fearful of the place she was in. She wasn’t hardened like the other women that she was near while on a place called Terminal Island, she had a round piece of metal in her hands with a number on it.

Her lips were pressed together as she had taken a slow breathe, she was watching something called Death Match along with the other women who also had the same round pieces of metal with a number on it. She knew that people were watching prisoners fight to the death for entertainment and she along with the others were meant to be the the ringside girls as she had heard one of the women call it.

Her eyes were barely opened as she shifted her weight seeing the women put on a smile, she had made a face and put as natural of a smile on that she could before walking holding the metal piece in her hand. She looked visibly uncomfortable as it’s was clear she didn’t want to be doing this at all, she much rather would be in her cell left alone and away from all of the prying eyes which had made her anxious.

She had been on a trip to Sweden where they had been introduced to a Commune which they rather quickly had found out was a cult, but during that time she had learned that she was being cheated on and had learned of some rather barbaric ways to harm a person. She had been so enraged when her sister and ex weren’t denying it that she had blacked out and carved them up leaving them hanging outside the window.

She had no memory of what she had done but was horrified when she had seen photos of what she had done, her parents had wanted her to plead not guilty but she had plead guilty because she knew that deep down inside she was. She had soon blended into the crowd but stayed away as much as she could, the girls were no longer needed, she had her arms folded tightly over herself.

She was a easy target because she had no skills in terms of self defense, she had let her eyes close for a moment before opening them, she had turned her head slightly noticing a man with long black hair and loads of tattoos. She felt her lips twitch, she had nodded back when he gave a nod in her direction, he had seemed nice which was something she didn’t expect to see or find within prison walls.

Her eyes were barely opened as she stood there watching the brutal match, one after another as her gloved hands were holding onto the cage lightly for support. She found herself wincing every once in a while as the brutality of the matches were bringing her back tot he day she had committed murder. She closed her eyes tightly taking a slow breathe, her hands were shaking, she tried to hide the fact that it was bothering her because she didn’t want it to be used against her.

Her eyes had moved looking to see a few others standing near the older man that had nodded to her moments before, she had slowly just backed up and pressed herself against the wall away from the fighting and the people. Her hands were on her knees as she was taking several slow breathes, she was keeping herself aware or her surroundings in case anyone had tried to attack her. @armed-and-alxne

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holliano · 3 years

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Maybe, just maybe, if your team is going to be needlessly aggressive and bully a fourteen year old girl until you push her over and she had to be taken to A&E for possible concussion, maybe don’t be surprised that we won’t shake your hand after the match you bunch of bullies.

#according to the refs the pushing was all ‘accidental’#we may have different definitions of accidental #because they were pushing her even when she didn’t have the ball #I don’t take kindly to bullies #they weren’t nice to several people but they targeted this one girl #and I will never forgive them

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itsamejin · 4 years

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easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality.

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters.

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet.

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too.

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength.

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression.

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person?

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?”

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all.

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you.

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-”

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him.

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed.

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute.

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on.

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon.

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed, embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes.

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him.

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV.

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him.

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?”

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way.

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you.

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way.

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Hello, my request is for Niragi ✨ Y/N was popular in high school and always protect him when he was bully. When they saw each other in Bordeland, she saw how much he changed and keep her distance from him (which he hates), and she have an attitude that make one of the militants wants to attack her but Niragi protect her like she did with him bc he would never admit her but she's his only weakness

Yessss I’ve actually been wanting to write something for Niragi that sounds very similar so I’m glad you requested this! Thanks so much! 💕

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. The guys that bullied Niragi, Ann, Hatter, OC’s)

Summary: You and Niragi were best friends in high school. When you arrive in the Borderlands, you notice he’s not the person he used to be, causing you to avoid him. But unfortunately, he’s not happy about it.

Warnings: swearing, bullying, smoking, drinking, violence, threatening, bullet wounds, implications of sexual assault

Word Count: 7.1k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

4 Years Earlier…

The young boy grunted out in pain, having been hit with another rock right between his eyes. This one managed to crack his glasses, making his vision go all distorted.

His classmates around him roared with laughter. His heart filled with both anger and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the wind and out of his current situation.

“Aww, little Niragi has become quiet. Where’s those sarcastic remarks from earlier, they seemed to have left you,” his attacker mocked, adding a mean tone to his voice.

Just the usual. ‘Maybe they might end their target practice with me earlier today,’ he hoped.

He had grown used to it. He now expected to be dragged under the bridge each day on his way home from high school, being pushed around and roughed up. It’s not like he could’ve defended himself anyway. It was six guys against one, he never had a chance.

A short jab to the back of his neck broke him out of his thoughts. He groaned and doubled over, feeling as he was going to throw up. “Come on Niragi, fight back! It’s no fun when you just stand there,” the blonde student complained, striding over to the weakened boy. He gave him a quick kick to his side, making him fall on his hip harshly.

“Fuck off,” Niragi groaned under his breath, half hoping his tormentor didn’t hear it. But unfortunately, the small remark reached his ears.

“What was that? Did you just try to defend yourself? You’re going to have to use a lot more than just a few words you fucking loner,” the boy poked, giving Niragi another harsh kick to his stomach, making him become winded and choke on air.

He laid there taking their harsh words and hearing their mocking laughter ring in his ears. What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Hey Haru!”

The blonde turned his attention from his target to the direction of the voice that called his name. There you stood, by yourself with no one else. You obviously didn’t think the situation through before throwing yourself into it. You remained near the stairs that led down to below the bridge, holding something behind your back, but Haru seemed to not notice it.

Your heart skipped a beat when the group of high school boys all locked eyes with you, confused about what you were doing interrupting them.

“The fuck do you want Y/N?” the blonde, Haru, asked you in an annoyed tone.

You gulped before answering him, trying to sound as threatening as you could without your voice cracking. “Let him go! He’s done nothing to you, why are you giving him a hard time?” you spat at him, taking a few brave steps closer to the scene in front of you.

Niragi slightly lifted himself off the ground to look over at you. He recognized you from his social studies class. You both sat together at the back, and he always thought you were too nice for your own good.

Niragi sat up and shook his head, trying to warn you to stop what you were doing. He didn’t want to drag you into his own problems. He would’ve felt awful if you happened to get hurt while trying to help him.

Haru rolled his eyes and groaned at you. “Why are you getting involved? This is none of your business,” he retorted, walking closer to you with the baseball bat in hand. You watched with fearful eyes as he swung the bat around, obviously to threaten you.

Your heart quickened and you felt it pound against your ribcage dramatically. As Haru got closer and closer, you stood your ground bravely, still holding your hand behind your back to hide your weapon from him. You weren’t stupid enough to get yourself involved without having some kind of way to defend yourself.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or just stand and shake like the pathetic girl you are?” Haru tormented, a confident smirk growing across his face.

His comment made your blood boil. “Do you have a saviour complex or something? Why did you think you could help this son of a bitch?” he pressed, gesturing towards Niragi who was slowly rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

That was it. He was getting far too close to you for your own liking, so you decided that comment was the final straw. You rushed towards him and pulled out the large can of pepper spray from behind your back, aiming directly at his smug face.

He cried out in pain the moment the spray hit his eyes, dropping the baseball bat and covering his face with his hands. He tried desperately to rub the stinging liquid out of his eye with his school blazer sleeves, but it wasn’t worth the effort as it only made it worse.

You moved quickly and picked up the bat that he dropped, running past him towards the other boys that were still gathered around Niragi. They all held shocked expressions on their faces.

“You want some too?” you bluntly asked, thrusting the pepper spray towards them. They all flinched and stumbled to get away. You smiled, feeling empowered.

Haru and the others ran, thinking that beating up Niragi wasn’t worth being blinded for.

You turned towards the bloodied boy standing against the wall looking at you in shock. You glanced at him, giving him a friendly smile. He returned it.

After that, you two became inseparable for the rest of your high school days, spending every waking moment together. With your tough attitude and Niragi’s shy demeanour, you were a strange friendship to have been made. You thought you would always stay together, until one day Niragi went missing.

You never guessed where he may have ended up, until you were sent there yourself a few years later.

*************

You breathed in a huge gulp of oxygen as the black bag was harshly pulled off your head. You tried to wiggle your hands to shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight seeping through the windows but struggled as you saw that your hands were tied to the armrests on either side of you. You groaned in frustration.

As the curtains closed so you could see probably, you saw a young woman with short black hair dressed in blue shorts and a white button up that was tied at the waist. “Sorry,” she began. “I forgot to close that before removing the bag.”

You looked around at your surroundings. You noticed that there were several more people in the room. The room was large, stretching down further until it came to a stop at the end where a large wall stood, conveying a huge spray painting across it that consisted of every card from a deck of cards. Some were crossed out, while a few number cards and all face cards remained untouched.

You whipped your head around, feeling restless from the number of eyes staring at you. You don’t remember how you got into this situation. All you remember is walking to a large light in the distance from your position on a bridge, being curious as to how it seemed to be the only building with electricity. Before you knew it, someone had grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved something over your head, making your vision go black and suddenly passing out.

You moaned in pain as you felt the back of your head throbbed, probably from when they punched you to knock you out.

“What’s going on?” you asked, struggling in your restraints more, trying to break free. An older man with glasses scolded you. “Stay still, Hatter will be here soon.”

Just as he promised, two large doors on your left burst open, revealing a man with a long decorative robe and dark glasses on. He had two other men beside him, both holding revolver guns.

“Ah! A newcomer!” he exclaimed excitedly, taking a big sip from his drink.

You froze, watching as he strides into the room further, making himself comfortable on a table in the centre of the room.

“A few of my militants tell me they found you sneaking around nearby The Beach,” he accused, pointing his finger at you.

You stared at him; confusion written all over your face. Militants? The Beach? What was he talking about?

After you didn’t answer him for a moment, he let out a big sigh and jumped off the table onto his feet, beginning to talk himself.

He explained the current situation to you. About how the dynamic at The Beach worked, and that considering the number of high-level cards you had on your person, you seemed to be the perfect candidate to add to the ranks of everyone there.

“And remember, death to the traitors,” he said, spite filling his tone. He had listed off the three main rules to you, each one adding more dread for you.

“Okay, all good. But I just want to say. If you want people to help you collect cards, kidnapping them isn’t the best idea. If it hasn’t hit you yet, that would make people want to help you less,” you smartly said, trying to stop your lips pulling up into a smirk.

All the heads in the room turned to Hatter. No one has ever questioned his motives to his face before, especially a newcomer.

Except, he didn’t get angry like everyone expected. Instead, he chuckled and held his drink out towards you. “Cheers to that, I guess. Have fun!”

************

The Beach was a lot more crowded than you expected. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you walked down to the bottom floor to the pool. People were everywhere; dancing, swimming, drinking, talking, smoking. It honestly couldn’t have been more chaotic than it already was.

You spent most of the remainder of the day becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. You found the room that you had been assigned to. You managed to score a room that was a little above average. Hatter decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and gift you a higher number due to your high number cards. He thought it was only fair.

You were sitting at a table nearby the bar. The sun had gone down but the party continued on through the chilly night air. You shivered, not being used to being dressed in a bathing suit twenty-four seven. You were annoyed that you weren’t even allowed to wear some sweatpants to bring you some kind of warmth. You guessed you would just have to grow used to feeling the cold on your skin.

The warm beverage slipped down your throat, bringing you at least a little bit of comfort. You had made yourself a coffee inside, not in the mood for alcohol just yet. You honestly didn’t like drinking without having anyone you trusted around you, just in case something was to happen.

You looked around the area, taking in everyone’s faces to see if anyone appeared friendly enough to be nice to you. You needed to make some allies before the next game, otherwise you would be the first they would sacrifice.

As you scanned the crowd, your gaze landed on a particular male, who was sitting in a more done up booth nearby the pool. He was wearing a black and white checkered shirt with black skinny jeans. He had several piercings in his face, making him seem more threatening.

You squinted your eyes. Why did he look so familiar? You swore you’ve seen him before.

You kept your gaze locked on him, watching as he communicated with the people sitting near him. You noticed that a huge sniper rifle was tucked behind him. He must have been a high-ranking militant, being able to carry a weapon like that around.

He suddenly flung his head back and let out a roar of laughter at something the guy next to him had said. You froze in your spot.

You could recognize that laugh anywhere. That loud, obnoxious laugh that used to come from your old friend Niragi from high school. Your best friend that randomly disappeared.

You blinked a few times before looking back at him. His facial features did match and the way he smiled seemed way too familiar to not be him.

How could he be here? Is this where he disappeared to a couple of years ago?

Your heart filled with joy and a wide grinned grew on your face. That had to be Niragi! Who else would it be?

You quickly stood to your feet, almost tripping on your chair in the process and began making your way towards his position.

Although, as you did so, another man approached him from behind, leaning over the seat and tapping his shoulder. Niragi turned with an angered scowl on his face, but it turned to a smirk once he heard what the man had to tell him.

You stopped in your tracks and watched as he leaped over the backrest of the couch suddenly, following the man with his rifle slung over his shoulders. They were headed to the door that led inside, so you quickly followed, wanting to reunite with your old friend from so long ago.

“Niragi!” you yelled out happily, trying to get his attention. A few heads turned at your voice around you, but he didn’t manage to hear you over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers.

“Niragi!” you tried again, but this time you were blocked by a few people in your way. A small crowd gathered in front of you, not noticing you trying to get past.

Niragi turned his head at the mention of his name but couldn’t see anyone calling his attention. He shrugged it off and kept following the man. He had told him that a young guy was causing some trouble inside one of the halls, so he was going to take care of it.

As you finally managed to force yourself through the small crowd that interrupted your path, you saw the Niragi and the man had already made it inside. You ran straight after them. You were feeling ecstatic, ready to throw your arms around him and give him the biggest hug ever to make up for all the days you’ve been apart.

As you quickly made your way inside, you caught a glance of his checkered shirt turning the corner a bit ahead of you. You moved your legs as quick as you could, trying to catch up.

You turned the corner, about to yell out to him again, but your voice got caught in your throat when the sight in front of you met your eyes.

“You really thought you could get away with this?!”

Niragi had a young boy pinned to the ground, pressing his boot against his upper back and shoving the barrel of his rifle against his skull violently. The boy below him was crying and begging for his mercy.

You had a small flashback to high school, when you saw Niragi’s main bully Haru shoving a baseball bat against the back of his head, him lying on the ground battered and bloodied.

It was the exact same scene. Only this time, Niragi was the tormentor himself.

“Niragi, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he cried desperately, clawing at the floor trying to get away.

Niragi lifted his other boot and stamped it down roughly onto the boy’s hand. You covered your mouth as you heard a few bones crack.

He leaned down closer to the boy’s face and lifted his head up his hair, making him whimper in pain. “If I ever see you stealing from one of the executives again, this rifle will go down your throat and I won’t hesitate to blow the back of your skull out,” he hissed, sticking out his tongue and revealing the ball piercing he had.

The boy nodded, leaning away from Niragi as best as he could.

The man who led Niragi to the scene tapped him on the shoulder. “Alright that’s enough. You don’t want to give him PTSD,” he said calmly.

Niragi let out an annoyed groan. “But I was just getting started with him!” he whined, letting the boy out from under his boot and watching as he scuttled away like a bug.

You couldn’t move. You stayed put as the boy pushed past you, accidentally smacking into your shoulder in the process. Your eyes remained wide, staring at the tall man with fear written across your face.

This was not the Niragi you knew. It was not the Niragi you defended from those bullies. This was not the Niragi that used to be your closest friend, possessing a shy and timid personality. No, that Niragi was dead now. This was a devil standing in front of you. Nothing but a violent jerk that struck fear in anyone that he came across. What happened to him?

Unfortunately, you took a little too long to gather your thoughts and before you knew it, a rough grip was on your shoulders shaking you out of your daydream. You flinched in a panic as you saw Niragi’s angered face appear in front of yours.

“What are you looking at? You want some too?” he growled, shoving the barrel of his gun against your temple. You froze, staring into his dark, evil eyes, not knowing what to do.

You watched in confusion as his hard and angry facial features softened, rage turning into surprise, and even concern.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking his hands off your shoulders and backing a way a bit in shock. You kept your eyes on him. You wanted nothing but for him to recognize you a few minutes before, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing you to jump as his tone. A large smile grew on his face, only you viewed it as nothing but sinister and evil.

“Oh my god Y/N! Since when did you get here?!” he asked excitedly. He quickly moved towards you again and held his arms out to give you a hug, but you backed away and shook your head, making him frown.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me? It’s me! Niragi! Your best friend!”

You shook your head again, trying to get the message across that you didn’t want him near you. “Sorry Niragi,” you mumbled, trying hard to keep your tears in.

You quickly darted around the corner, making your way to the staircase to run to your room. You felt overwhelmed. After everything that happened today, finding out that your closest friend was now a murderer was the last thing you needed.

Your stomach dropped as you heard heavy footsteps following closely behind you.

“Wait Y/N! Please let me explain!” he tried to stop you, but you weren’t going to give him any time after that performance with the young boy.

“Piss off Niragi!” you yelled, climbing the stairs as fast as you could, trying to get away from him.

You turned onto the floor that your room was located on, sprinting down the hallway. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that Niragi wasn’t that far behind you. He had dropped his rifle, now trying to catch up to you empty handed.

You quickly busted through your door and immediately pressed your entire body weight on it. You silently cursed Hatter for not letting you have locks.

You heard him arrive in front of it, immediately trying to open it, but you stood your ground. He may have been tall, but there was nothing but skin and bones on him. He had no muscles to help him push through.

You held the door shut with your leg and reached for a chair to put against the handle so we wouldn’t be able to open it. You managed to secure it underneath the handle and stood back, watching as Niragi tried to open it again, but failing.

“Y/N please just let me in! Let me explain! I didn’t mean for you to see that!” he cried. You almost felt guilty, hearing as he started tearing up behind the door while still attempting to let himself in.

“Please Y/N! Let me in! I missed you!”

You covered your ears with your hands. You didn’t want to listen to his pleas, it would do nothing but make you feel bad for him.

That wasn’t Niragi outside your door, that was a cold-blooded killer that you wanted nothing to do with.

**************

The next few days you spend on alert around The Beach, looking around every corner for Niragi. As much as you’ve missed him the past few years, that event that occurred with the young boy obviously showed that he was no longer the nice and caring friend that you used to have. If anything, he now has become what he hated most in his high school days, a selfish and careless bully.

Who wants to be associated with someone like that? Not you.

Although even though you managed to avoid him in person, his name was brought up wherever you went. A few people would approach you during the day and warn you that Niragi was looking for you. It only would make your anxiety spike, causing you to scatter off to a more secluded place somewhere at The Beach. Most of the time you would hide in your room, but on the few occasions you climbed to the roof or hung around Alice and Usagi (who you had befriended), you managed to keep away from the psychopath.

One day, you were sitting out on one of the tables out by the pool. It was still quite early in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of people around. The air was quite nippy, making you shiver against the cold breeze. You rubbed your arms up and down, trying to warm yourself up. Unfortunately, you hadn’t grown used to the ‘always wear bathers’ policy yet.

You felt a gentle hand lay itself on your shoulder, making your eyes widen and your head whip around to yell at whoever had dared to touch you, but you held in your harsh remark when your eyes met with Niragi’s.

“Finally! I found you!” he exclaimed, a sickening smile spreading across his face. You leant away from his touch, scooting your butt along the seat of the table, trying to make distance between the two of you.

Niragi obviously didn’t like this.

“Why are you avoiding me like I’m some kind of disease? I just want to talk to you! I haven’t seen you in years!” he said annoyed, taking a seat at the table.

You eyed his sniper rifle closely, watching as he placed it down on the table in front of him. You felt somewhat relieved that the barrel was pointing away from you. Who knew when he would decide to use that vicious weapon against you?

You blinked, not daring to say anything. You wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. It was unbearably uncomfortable.

“Sorry Niragi, I have to go,” you stated, standing up out of your seat and moving to turn away.

Niragi gripped the back of your hoodie and pulled you so you sat down again, making you yelp in surprise. “No, you don’t. Stop avoiding me,” he growled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort. You swore you were so close you could hear his heart beating. With a short shove to the side, you got out of his grip and stood up again.

“No, I do. I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you,” you bluntly said, becoming agitated from his insistent behaviour. Why did he think he could just tell you what to do?

He frowned, standing up as well. “Fine then, I’ll just come too. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t get a choice.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly started walking away from him, hoping to at least get a head-start to stay away from him. You heard him jog up to you as you kept walking, seeing his shadow appear right next to you.

You became more and more anxious the longer he followed you. He started to get a little too comfortable in his movements, even having the audacity to touch your hair and comment on how much it’s grown.

It got to a point where you had walked all the way to the lobby about three times, realizing that he wasn’t even focusing on where you were going. You turned around just as he was reaching to grab your hand, looking him in the eye with anger written all over your face.

“Can you not take a hint?! Leave me the fuck alone!” you yelled, watching as his face contorted into shock at your tone.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you Niragi! You’re fucking insane and sadistic! Has it not occurred to you that you’ve literally become the soul thing that you hated in high school?!” you sassed, anger ripping from your words and smacking him in the face.

The few people in the lobby turned their heads at the sound of your arguing, being curious due to not seeing anyone ever dare to yell such vulgar words towards Niragi.

He tucked his hand into his jeans pocket and readjusted the rifle on his shoulder, almost looking bored. “Yeah? And what would that be?” he asked, licking his bottom lip while staring at your menacingly.

You cringed as his movements. “A fucking asshole! A little bitch that preys on those weaker than him just so he can project his own hatred for himself onto them! You’re pathetic Niragi, and it’s a real shame that no one has in this shithole has told you so. Because no one knows you like I know you, and I know that on the inside, you hate yourself more than anyone could ever hate you.”

You took in a deep breath, regaining your strength. You suddenly saw the irony in your words. You accused Niragi of projecting his anger onto others when you just did it yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes, bringing his rifle down off his shoulder and fiddling with the bullet canister. You felt your heart stop from his actions, being afraid that he was going to use it on you.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me Y/N,” he laughed, glancing his eyes back up to you.

You grunted in annoyance. “Just leave me alone, please,” you begged, turning around and leaving Niragi to the peeping eyes still staring at you both.

He turned his head to everyone in the lobby. As he did so, everyone turned back to what they were doing, being afraid of being caught staring and yelled at by him.

“That’s right. Mind your own business,” he shouted out across the lobby to make sure everyone heard.

He watched you as you walked away, eventually turning the corner to go search for Alice and Usagi. At least they would give you some kind of security after what just happened.

He chuckled to himself, sticking his pierced tongue out and running it across his lips once again. “Just you wait Y/N, you’ll come running back to me soon enough. You can only keep that tough façade up for so long. Just wait until people find out that you’re all bark and no bite.”

************

You stumbled your way to the entrance of the hotel, head throbbing in pain and legs aching from the muscle strain you’ve put on them. You had arrived back from your game, being the only one that managed to survive. You didn’t feel well, both physically and emotionally, so you were planning on slipping into a coma for a few days to sleep off the pain that you were feeling at that moment.

It felt like a huge effort to even lift your feet. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so you weren’t even thinking of checking in on Alice or Usagi. You said to yourself you would look for them tomorrow. You were in too much of a bad mood to engage in conversation. You’d probably end up snapping at them, which wouldn’t be fair on them since they just completed a harsh game themselves.

As you were just about to enter through the large glass doors before a young militant woman with short blonde hair pushed through before you even had the chance. She managed to even knock your shoulder during the process, making you hiss in pain.

She looked you up and down with a disgusted expression on her face. “Watch where you’re going,” she spat before continuing walking inside.

You rolled your eyes. “Bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

Her head quickly whipped around to meet your eye, an angered scowl on her face. “Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

Your words got stuck in your throat. She wasn’t meant to have heard that. “I-I…”

“I-I..” she mocked you. You felt your adrenaline skyrocket. You’ve heard of this girl; she doesn’t take things lightly.

“Look I’m sorry, it just slipped out I promise,” you stammered out, putting your hands up in a surrender. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with her shit, you were grumpy and tired. You hoped she would let you off with just a warning.

But she had different plans.

She grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, dragging you outside again and brought you over to a small alleyway that ran along the side of the hotel. You struggled in her grip and protested the whole way.

Although, you stopped fighting against her when she shoved you against a brick wall and pulled a revolver out of her jacket pocket, pushing it underneath your chin. You froze and looked at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to have mercy.

“You’ve messed with the wrong person you bitch,” she growled, giving you a quick jab to the ribs. You yelped in pain, clutching your side. It hurt ten times more, considering you’ve already faced a horrific game that same night.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eye sockets.

She scoffed and smirked at you. “Wow, all bark and no bite huh?” she teased, throwing a kick to your shin, making you cry harder.

Her words angered you, making you see red for a short moment. You forgot about the revolver against your chin and gave her a quick punch to the jaw, making her head whip sideways.

She groaned, clutching her face and slowly turned back to you. You felt yourself fill with regret when you saw the look on her face. She looked like she was ready to kill you.

“Is that how you want it? Fine, have a hole in your foot. Maybe it’ll manage to get you and your attitude killed off in the next game,” she snarled.

Your stomach dropped at her words. Before you could even protest, she pulled away and aimed the gun towards the ground and blew a quick bullet in the top of your foot.

You cried out, kneeling and grasping your foot in your hands in pain, biting your tongue so you didn’t scream too loud. The pain of the bullet seeped from your foot and up your leg, spreading across your body.

The militant girl stood above you, laughing at your pathetic body lying on the ground. Your screams of pain brought her pleasure.

“Didn’t think this would happen when you bad mouthed me, didn’t you?!” she laughed, leaning down and pushing the gun against your head to threaten you more.

Another gunshot rang in your ears. For a moment you thought it was her and that she had put a bullet through your head, killing you. But then you heard a cry and saw the girl fall in the ground holding your shin with her head thrown back in a silent scream.

You were about to attempt to stand up to take this opportunity to run, but quickly jumped back down to the ground when another loud gunshot filled the air. You heard the bullet colliding with flesh as the girl flinched violently and cried out again.

You heard a menacing male laugh fill the air, and you glanced down the alleyway to see where it came from.

There stood Niragi, holding his sniper rifle out towards you both with smoke protruding from the barrel of it. A psychotic grin was painted across his face and you swore you saw his eyes shine red.

“Why are you giving my poor love a hard time?! Maybe think twice before you put a bullet through my property,” he exclaimed, chucking and walking up to the girl giving her a harsh kick to the ribs.

You felt like you were about to throw up and hearing some of her ribs crack from the collision of her chest to his boot did not help your nausea.

You rubbed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the ground. You wanted to wake up, like this was all some bad dream. Before you knew it, you were silently sobbing on the floor, tears rolling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You felt two arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold stone floor and into a warm chest. You winced and whined as the bullet wound in your foot shot a searing pain through your leg. Niragi shushed you quietly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, placing his cheek on top of your head.

His behaviour was giving you whiplash. One second ago he was acting like a maniac, shooting holes through a young girl, but now he was carrying you by under your knees and your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck.

You were exhausted, your body not even listening to you. You tried to move your leg to force yourself out of his grip but didn’t even have the strength to lift it. Your head was throbbing, and you could’ve passed out easily in his arms, but forced yourself to stay awake.

As Niragi walked past the lobby to get to the medical room, he attracted a few worried faces. Some even stood up to walk over and ask if you were okay. Everyone was terrified he had bad intentions with you, knowing how he was.

He ignored the few that approached both of you, rushing down the hall to escape them. He had to get there quickly so Ann could treat your bullet wound.

When he arrived, he pushed through the door harshly and called out to Ann with a worried tone. She stopped what she was doing and turned to the door to see Niragi holding you close to him protectively, blood dripping into the ground from your shoe.

“Shit, bring her here.” She gestured towards an empty table in the middle of the room. Niragi rushed over and placed you gently on the metal table, letting you lean your upper body against him.

Ann brought over some large tweezers, a cloth, disinfectant and a bandage. You flinched at the sight of the tweezers, moving to get away from her. “No, no!” you begged, trying to crawl up the table to get away, but Niragi grabbed your waist and pinned you against his chest.

“We have to get the bullet out Y/N, we can’t just leave it in there!” he argued, brushing your hair out of your face to calm you down.

You struggled against his grip as Ann held down your foot and carefully removed your shoe and sock. You looked down and saw a small hole in the top of your foot. How could such a small injury cause so much pain?

“Alright Niragi, keep her still. This is going to hurt,” Ann said shallowly, picking up the tweezers to try and remove the bullet.

“Yep.” You felt his grip on you tighten and he tucked his chin on your head. “Please just keep still Y/N, I’m here. It’s okay,” he cooed. His reassuring words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

Niragi turned your face so you were nuzzled into his chest. He knew that making you watch Ann take the bullet would do nothing but freak you out more, so he wanted to protect you from the sight.

You felt fine until the pain in your foot suddenly skyrocketed, making you let out a piercing scream. You bit your tongue to try and quieten yourself, but it didn’t do much.

Niragi frowned as he suddenly felt you go limp against him. He looked down at your face to see you had passed out, eyes shut tight and letting out soft breaths.

He smiled and brushed his fingers across your face. “So cute,” he mumbled.

“Well, that’s better. Maybe if we just knocked her out with a quick jab to the head, it would’ve saved us the headache of trying to keep her down,” Ann stated bluntly, causing Niragi to laugh.

“You know how this happened?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“A bitch shot her just outside the hotel,” he said with an angry tone.

Ann didn’t seem surprised. Events like that occurred a lot. She had removed a lot of bullets the time she had been there.

“What happened to the girl? Did she run when she saw you?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to. She copped two bullets into her body for doing that to Y/N.”

“Did you think maybe Y/N was the one giving her a hard time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I only saw her shoot the bullet, nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

***********

You cracked your eyes open to a room that most definitely wasn’t your own. You groaned and sat up, wincing when the pain in your foot shot through your leg. Memories of yesterday filled your head. “I must have passed out in the medical room,” you said to yourself.

You scanned the room. It was much bigger than yours. The bed you were in was three times the size of yours, and this room even had a huge balcony. As you looked around more, you noticed that a bag of your stuff was placed near the closet.

You frowned. Why was your stuff from your room here?

Suddenly the door opened to reveal Niragi, walking in with a plate of a bread roll and a bottle of water. He saw you awake and smiled.

“Aw little mouse is awake. How’s your foot?” he purred.

You cringed at the pet name. “What’s it to you, dickhead,” you growled, getting out of the bed and standing up. You were wearing the same clothes that you wore to the game yesterday, minus the shoes and the jacket.

Niragi smirked and placed the food on a small table in the centre of the room. “Have you forgotten who saved your pathetic ass yesterday?” he asked, approaching you. “And also, don’t stand on that foot. It’s injured, you have to rest it.” He pushed on your shoulder lightly to make you sit on the bed again. He sat himself next to you and leaned towards your face.

You moved away from his face, hating how close he was to you. “Yeah, but how did you know I even needed help? And don’t tell me you were just going on a short stroll through the alleyway at eleven at night,” you said, scooting up the bed and leaning your back against the wooden bedhead.

Niragi chuckled. “What if I was? Are you accusing me of stalking?” he suggested.

You shook your head. “Why is my stuff here,” you asked, changing the subject.

Niragi glanced over at the bag full of your stuff on the ground near the closet. He turned back to you with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah! I forgot to say, you’re moving in with me,” he said excitedly.

You felt your stomach drop. “What? I didn’t agree to this.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand again. You could only place pressure on one foot, so you stood on one leg.

“Oh, baby. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re in here with me now, whether you like it or not,” he growled, reaching out towards you waiting for you to place your hand in his.

You stared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not. But from the serious look on his face, you didn’t think he was.

“I’m not staying in here with you. You’re a fucking psycho.”

You attempted to limp over to the door, wanting to escape Niragi as soon as possible. But you didn’t expect him to be so insistent on you staying.

A sudden arm around your waist spun your around and Niragi pinned you against the door, his face far too close to yours for it to be comfortable. “Did you not just hear me? You don’t get a choice love. You’re stuck with me,” he rasped into your face with a scary smile across his.

Your breath hitched and you turned your head away as he moved his face closer, trying to force his lips against yours. You felt helpless.

“Niragi please. Let me go, I’m sorry if I ever angered you,” you begged, pushing on his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “I promise if you let me go, we can go back to how we were in high school.” You were trying to do anything that would get him off you. Your heart was racing, and you were becoming more frightened by the second.

Niragi licked a long and slow stripe from your collar bone to the back of your ear. You cringed and sobbed at the feeling of his tongue and saliva on your skin. “Maybe I don’t want it like it was back then. Maybe I want more Y/N,” he whispered.

He tucked his face into your neck and nipped at your skin. He had your arms pinned either side of you and his leg was holding your good foot against the door. You couldn’t do anything to defend yourself.

“What have you become Niragi,” you sobbed after a short moment.

Niragi removed himself from your neck, leaning back to look at you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the same dark and beautiful orbs that used to make your heart race with love in high school, only now, they made your heart race with fear.

“I’ve become the real me Y/N, and you’re going to love me, whether you want to or not.”

2K notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 3 years

Text

Tyrant

A/N: hi sorry to interrupt the event content but I just have to write this before I run out of motivation lol

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x afab!reader

Description: You knew you were already conquered when he looked up with an uninterested gaze, and suddenly he did not look so uninterested anymore.

Warning: vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, degredation, daddy kink, Toji is not nice, yes I used the word “cunny”, breeding kink, he called you a good girl once, creampie, might give dubcon vibes at one point depending on how you interpret it (I don’t think it is but just putting it here to be safe)

Word count: 4018

The most subconscious, most primal base of your instinct told you to run when you met eyes with Fushiguro Toji for the first time.

He wasn’t even doing anything, just his hands twirling the empty shot glass in his hand mindlessly as he stared at it aimlessly with boredom. You had been avoiding this particular patron of the ragged pub you worked at for as long as you could, risking the annoyed eye rolls from your coworkers just to find whatever excuse you could to not go up to him.

They did not understand why you were so afraid of this man who was not even affiliated with any of the gangs that were a known danger in the city. You could not tell them why too, but you were convinced that some gut feelings were best to be trusted.

A sheep would know a wolf even if it had never seen one.

The other people who frequented this place was by no means the elite of the city, anyone who would choose to come into this shady bar shoved at the very center of one of the messiest neighborhoods of the city came because any other place would call on them the moment they even tried to walk through. They were all the same, same bunch from the same world and as a result, these people that were your customers had no issue talking about what they do for a living right in front of the bar table where many others could hear.

They knew that no one would rat them out, especially not the people that worked there, because it wouldn’t be very hard to trace back to exactly who it was that did it.

These people intimidated you, but the number of people from different walks all of the same field who gathered here also meant that none of these people would bother to hurt you and ruin the perfectly tipped balance of this safe spot. You could deal with the other customers just fine, they might be dangerous but most of them wouldn’t do anything but looking at the exposed skin of your short top far too directly when you put down their drinks.

It was an unwritten rule for the staff to stay as impersonal towards the bar-goers as possible, but the people who did the same thing always managed to find their circle and after a while, you would have a blurry image of what they do. Gang leaders would always found another man of their rank from the corner of their eyes, snippers and hired guns had their own corner of the pub they crowd at. Fushiguro Toji was not the same as the rest of them. He always came along, slipping into the far end of the bar counter without a word and just stayed for hours until most others had already left. You had never seen him interacting with any other people at the bar, making what he did for him to come here instead of any other place still a mystery to you. He was not eager to tell people what he did, how many scars he had under the same black shirt he always wore. He had never gotten drunk, never raised his voice, never showed a hint of interest when brawls broke out between the other drunken men. And it seemed the neglect was mutual, you didn’t think you had seen anyone trying to slip into the empty seat next to his at the bar even when it was the only one left. He was in his own bubble, away from the other gangs and mobs.

He did not look like he cares about anything, and that was terrifying in a man

Running away was not really an option, not when he was always here and you could only excuse yourself so many times before you started to sense that if you run again, it wouldn’t be so long until you wouldn’t even have a job anymore.

“Sir, your drink,” You were sure your voice was near shaking when you had to break him out of his daze as you put his usual shot in front of him. It was a Wednesday midnight and it was just you working at the front, and surely he was there on the day you finally had nowhere to hide. Heat drained from your face when you walked up to him, the feeling of the cooler’s wind fanning against your exposed skin beneath the skimpy uniform you were wearing made you feel all the more self-conscious. If he looked up, he would see the way your shirt rested just below your chest, the fabric taut against the curve of your bra. The cut of your jean shorts was almost meaningly, with the fray resting at the root of your thighs and barely below the roundness of your ass.

You knew you were already conquered when he looked up with an uninterested gaze, and suddenly he did not look so uninterested anymore.

Your body could not move when his eyes trailed down from your wide eyes to your nervously pursed lips, to your collarbone and your tits that were pushed out as you crossed your arms in front of you like a child, and down the skin of your stomach before going back up when he got to the flesh of your thighs. You gulped, feeling the fever that speeded through your veins and holding back the unknown urge to clench your legs tighter together out of reflex.

He knew you were afraid of him, and your timid posture seemed to entertain him greatly when he picked up the shot glass that looked miniature in his large hand and brought it up to his scarred lips. He was smirking now, opening his back as he tilted the hard liquor into his mouth. The knot in his throat bobbed, and you almost let out a disgraced whimper when you saw the lines of his abdomen against his shirt when he let out a sigh.

“Waiter!”

You jumped when you heard the yell from the other side of the pub, frantically pulling your eyes away and swallowing down the chills on your scalp. You gave him a quick nod before you nearly stumbled away, and your heart pounded in your ear when you heard a grumbled chuckle ringing behind you.

He was gone by the time you gathered enough courage to look at his usual seat again, but you could not stop thinking about the way he looked at you even after you were alone in your bed that night.

“What had you done with the man who always sat at the corner?” your coworker asked you in the changing room when you came back from your day off.

Your hands that were zipping up your hot shorts froze in place. “Nothing,” you hid the fact that you felt your skin heating up just as the familiar image appeared in your head, tugging your shorts as low as you could to hide more of your skin as you followed up, sounding as nonchalant as you could, “why did you ask?”

“Really?”

You felt goosebumps exploding on your skin when they said the one thing you had feared they would say.

“Because he asked about you when you weren’t here yesterday.”

Once the wolf locked onto its target, it wouldn’t stop until the little lamb finally fell into right where he wanted it to be.

He started to request for you to serve his drinks. Your owner couldn’t wait to send you his way, because the man who usually ordered two shots max was now ordering repeatedly as long as you were the one walking up to him. The more you could not meet his gaze, the wilder he seemed to grin as he started coaxing you to stay with him for longer after you put down his drinks. The primal instinct to bow down to the dominant and the one that pushed you to run from the predator battled in your head when he asked for you to sit down with him, with the former winning when you realised you were nothing but a puddle of water as soon as he put his hand on your wrist.

That was the most dangerous part about him, because he seemed to have figured out that your body wanted to obey him.

One hand on the wrist eventually turned into his palm on your thigh. His touch always soft enough for you to flinch away, delighting him all the more when you didn’t. It was only a matter of time before he asked for your name, how old you were, what you do when you weren’t here serving beer to gangs.

You told him you need the money, and he looked very understanding when he nodded and gave your thigh a pat before taking his hand back. “No wonder,” you sat up straighter when you felt the chills running along your spine from his calloused finger brushing against your skin, “I was thinking why a little thing like you would be at a place like this.”

One night, Toji did not come into the pub like he used to. He was already there by the time you walked up to the backdoor, your mouth parting but nothing came out at why he was here at the staff entrance and so early too.

“When does your shift end?” he asked, long fingers picking out a cigarette from the packet before holding it between his teeth.

Your skin crawled, before the warmth stirring in your stomach won over.

He nodded when you answered him, the sharp click of his lighter followed by a spark as he dipped his head down.

The shivers were back when he exhaled, throwing his head back as he leaned against the brick wall.

“Good,” he said, putting the lit cig back between his teeth when he made a gesture with his hand for you to go inside.

When you came out, he had just taken his last puff. There was a glint in his eyes when he saw you standing there in front of the door, your hands gripping onto the strap of your bag.

The half-burnt butt joined the several others on the floor when he pushed himself off the wall and walked up to you.

The wolf showed his claws once the lamb was in his lair.

Your head was hazy when Toji backed off of you for the first time after your back hit his mattress. A manic smile hung on his face when he looked down at the figure beneath him, shaking and panting as you were trapped between his knees.

He had an image in his head of how you would look with your body sunk into his bed, and boy were you a fragile, pretty little thing when he finally got to put his hands on you.

Your lips were puffy from his nibbling and sucking, looking awfully like a pout as heavy breaths fell from the trembling petals. Your arms remained where he had pinned them down above your head even long after his hands wandered away, your face buried to the side of your upper arm as you tried to hide your expression away. His rampant lips had left your head light and with his weight off of you, you finally remembered to breathe.

Toji licked his lips as his gaze burned into you, darting his tongue out to wet his lips as he racked his eyes all over your exposed torso. The first thing that he tore off of you was the flimsy crop top that he had always see as a pain in the eye, pulling it above your tits roughly right after he shoved you onto his bed. The gasp that fell from your lips had him hard in an instance when he yanked down your bra, your arms completely helpless from shielding your chest from him with him one step ahead of you and pinning them above your head. You made the most pathetic noises when he sucked on your nipples, licking and flicking the bud with his tongue as you writhed underneath him. Now they were hard and standing for attention as he groped the flesh while staring right into your face, the sheen left on your peaks from his saliva as he rolled it between the gap of his fingers.

Fragile, pretty little thing, and a sensitive one too, Toji sniggered to himself as he palmed his erection over his pants, his cock already twitching when he thought of how he could train your body to react the way he wanted you to.

A wet patch had already formed at the crotch of your panties and you let out a broken moan when his thumb pressed down on where your clit would be. “Little slut, getting so wet just from having your tits played with...” he mused, hooking the strip of fabric under his index finger and watching you squirmed when it stuck between your folds. You whimpered when he tugged it back and forth, your juices gushing out when it rubbed against your clit.

Your body jerked when he snapped it against your cunt, and he laughed. Your arousal formed a string when he pulled your soaked panties off of you, shoving it in the pocket of his pants but not before bringing the fabric near his nose and took a hard sniff. Your face burnt with humiliation and arousal at the sharp noise, but the heat dropped when he shoved the band of his wide-legged pants down roughly and his hard cock sprung up against his abdomen.

His head was already leaking with pre and a thick, pulsing vein crawling all the way down to his base from the crown. Your eyes widened when he fisted it in his hand, giving the girth a few jerks before tapping it against your cunt. His fingers dug into your thighs as he hooked it around his waist, rolling his hips slowly as he slid his length along your wet folds.

The weight between your legs was hard to brush off. He was hot, heavy, and his tip was right below your naval when his balls tapped against your ass. A loud squelch echoed in your ear when he pulled back, your wetness coating his cock from top to bottom as he dragged it along.

The fuse in your head burnt to ashes when you felt his hardness lining up at your entrance.

“Wait, please-”

Your blood curled when Toji froze in place, the drop in his lust-riddled gaze shifting from your cunt slowly to your face.

“Huh?” he huffed, the grumble sending shocks straight to your core as he hoisted your legs higher up his sides.

“Please, it’s not going to fit,” your voice was weak as you whimpered, feeling your nervous tears gathering at the corner of your eyes when something nudged at your pussy.

You hissed when he pushed his tip in. He let out a wolfish chuckle when your body shuddered, “It seems like it’ll fit in this needy hole just fine.”

“No, no...” the tears were pushed down your cheeks when you shook your head, “please, I’ve never had anything this big. I-”

The wolf, so hungry and ready to devour you, halted any of his movements. Your eyes widened when the grin on his face dropped, and a dark cloud hazed over his sharp eyes.

You had said the wrong thing, you realised that when a wide grin split on Toji’s face.

“Never had anything this big,” he repeated mockingly, staring at your watery eyes from above when he pulled his tip out of you, “I see how this is...”

You yelped when he suddenly pushed your knees all the way back until it was right against your chest. The pain at the sides of your thighs had you slamming your head back, arching yourself off the mattress as Toji licked his hips at the sight of your dripping cunt all out for his eyes to see.

“You are such a slut for me because no one has ever fucked you right before...” he mused, gripping you by the back of your knees as he positioned himself at your clenching hole.

“Tell daddy,” your face heated up when he purred, “how big were the other people that you’ve had before?”

A sharp mewl ripped from the back of your throat when he pushed in, not even halfway through but your hands were already clawing at the sheets beneath you at the stretch. Your walls clamped down at the newfound fullness, stretching apart by a girth you had never experienced before.

His cock pulsed in you when he laughed, his lips curling up at the way your toes pointed straight and your eyes rolling back. “This big?”

You could only whimper when he pushed more of his cock inside. “This big?” he asked again, his throat bobbing when your tight walls fluttered around him.

More. “This big?”

The laugh rumbled out from the back of his chest when your voice came out high pitched and broken. The painful hiss stuck at the back of your throat when he gave one final push, his heavy balls slapped against your ass when he was finally all the way in. Your body was being torn apart by the seams, treading between the line of pain and pleasure as your vision saw white from getting stretched. He was hot inside of you, and his cock sitting inside of you was impossible for you to ignore as every cell in your body was set aflame by the numbing feeling.

“Hu- ah!” you panted when he shifted his weight onto your body, nuzzling his tip deeper into you as if it was even possible.

“Let daddy show you how real men fuck their whores.”

Loud slaps echoed in the room when he started thrusting, holding your shaking legs tight as he pounded into your cunt with feverish intent. The crescent marks of his nails digging into your skin was painful, and your body did not feel like it was under your own control as he drilled in and out of your sloppy hole. Your ass jiggled under each slap of his thighs against your cheeks, everywhere his cock had dragged against feeling like it was set on fire as he fucked you at a frantic pace. Your mouth parted when the initial pain was taken over by an undeniable lust, your brain melting into mush with his cock bottoming out in you so hard you could not even think straight.

“Hm- mm! ‘S good, feels so good- Daddy, please please please...”

Toji laughed at your incoherent babbles. His chest pressing up against the back of your thighs as he thrust deep into you, there was nowhere for you to hide your lust-blown gaze from his eyes. Drool was rolling down your jaw as your mouth hung wide, your tongue almost lolling out with each slam of his hips against yours. Your vision was blurry and you could barely keep your eyes open, fighting against the urge to close them up under the stimulation your body was being put through.

He only went harder when aroused tears ran down your face, the wetness of his tongue licking away the salty droplet making you whimper. “Aw, what’s wrong?” the condescending tone made your face burn, his warm breath brushing against your cheek as he accentuated each word with a roll of his hips, “Crying because this is the first time someone has reached so deep into your cunny?”

You let out a loud whine. Cunny, how humiliating for him to talk to you like you were a thoughtless child when he knew you could barely breathe properly with how he was rearranging your guts. The tantalizing tuts of his tongue made your walls clench and he let out a beastly grunt at the sudden friction around his cock.

“Any of the men you always flaunt around would kill someone to trade places with me,” he grunted, nibbling at the sensitive skin of your neck as he dragged his teeth down. He chuckled and the vibration made you roll your head back, “A cock whore like you would love that, won’t you? People killing just for a chance to pound your naughty hole?”

“No, no-” you shook your head when he suddenly slowed down, every hair on your body standing up at the sudden drop and your hands flew to grab onto his shoulders just for a chance for him to keep going, “only want you. Only want daddy’s cock- Ah! Hng!”

Your pleas satisfied him greatly, even more so when your wanton moans rang loudly in his ears as he aimed each thrust right at the spongey spot deep inside of you. “I should just knock you up, huh?” he smirked when you clamped down around him the moment his words dropped, “fuck a baby inside of you so other men can’t ogle at your tits and ass in that fucking uniform anymore.”

You could not process a word of what he was saying, the only thought your head could generate was that you would do anything for him to keep going. One strong pound tipped you off the edge, and you could not stop the rambling from falling off your tongue as his cock kept driving in and out of you while the orgasmic waves rush over you.

“I’m not gonna stop fucking you until you’re nothing but daddy’s little cumdump, is that what you want?”

“Yes yes yes yes- fuck yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop-”

Toji cackled, and kissed you square on the lips.

“Good,” Thrust, “fucking,” Thrust, “girl...” Thrust.

He kept going as his load spilt inside of you. You whined at the warmth that filled you up, the stickiness leaking out with each push of his fat cock out of your abused hole and running down where your bodies connected. Toji leaned his body back as he slowed down, his eyes gluing onto the mess between your legs as your juices mixed with his released dripped onto the sheets.

You whimpered at the soreness when he slipped his limp cock out, the fluttering of your folds pushing his cum out of you. “Ha...” you sucked in a deep breath when he put your legs down, the twitching not once stopping when he leaned down and kissed your puffy clit.

Your sensitive body jumped at the touch, and he kissed the nub again as he pushed the leaking cum back into your pussy. “Good girl.”

You were far too worn out to do anything when he took your top off of you and unhooked your bra that had been sitting uncomfortably under your chest. The things he had said to you while he was ravaging you finally sank into your skin when you had the breaths to think about it, and Toji gave your head a soft pat when your eyes followed him like a lost puppy when he got up.

“Sleep,” he kissed your temple, and it appeared you still couldn’t win over the want to listen to him as the tiredness in your lids took in.

Fushiguro Toji watched as you drifted away into slumber, the silence stirring in the air as he contemplated what to do with you. It had been a while since he had last wanted something but he had been quick to recognise the fume in his chest when he saw you walking around and forcefully smiling at people not less dangerous than himself the first time he went into that pub.

The tyrant would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and he had no plans to let go once he took his first bite.

You did not hear him, he took your sleepy whimper as an answer on his own when he whispered against your hair.

“We talk about you and that job when you wake up.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji imagine #fushiguro toji imagines #fushiguro toji smut #toji smut

423 notes · View notes

wroetospotterwp · 3 years

Note

death eater x harry???? oR SOMEONE ELSE IDK AH

Dark Red

Pairing ✨: Harry Potter x Death Eater!Reader (Fem!) (also implies that reader isn’t in gryffindor n also set during OOTP)

Summary 💓: Y/N has been forced by her parents to follow in their footsteps and join the death eaters, it doesn’t help that her boyfriend is Harry Potter.

Word Count 🖊: 2,613

A/N 🗣: FIRST REQUEST FROM THE LEGEND HERSELF 🤌🤌 she first sent me an edit on tiktok and she was like idea, so we’ve went for it, also first song imagine! all the lyrics i’ll be using will be in italics but i’ve had to change pronouns to fit harry :)

Warnings ⚠️: swearing and made my heart ache a little, manipulation

Requested? 📮: yes! :)

Masterlist

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The rain was pelting hard against the window in Y/N’s dorm, the loudness of the rain drops smashing against the glass had awoken the girl from her slumber. She sat up from bed and leaned against her headboard.

Rubbing her eyes, Y/N adjusted to the dim lighting in the room. Everything in her life was just perfect, her grades were good, she had lots of friends, and last but most definitely not least there was Harry.

They had been dating for over a year now and Y/N could see it lasting, what she felt with Harry was something so indescribable, but it made her so happy. The two of them distracted each other from their lives. Y/N helped him take his mind off He Who Must Not Be Named, and he distracted her from her parents.

Her parents did not approve of their relationship, and Y/N knew it probably had something to do with the fact they secretly supported Voldemort. But she hadn’t ever told him that, for the matter she hadn’t told many peoples.

Y/N was staring at the top of her bed, her stomach beginning to turn. This usually happened when she got a bad feeling. Y/N focused on trying to figure out what might happen, fail a test? Have an argument with someone?

Y/N thoughts were going fifty miles an hour that she didn’t hear her friend wake up next to her. “You look deep in thought.” She joked, Y/N turning to face her. “What’s the matter?” Her friend questioned.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Something bad is about to happen to me.” She mumbled, knowing how ridiculous it might have sounded.

“You’ve been listening to Trelawney too much.” Her friend brushed off with a smile, but it slowly dropped when she saw Y/N’s expression. “Come on Y/N, what could possible happen?”

“I don’t know what, but I feel it coming.” Y/N voiced her thoughts to her friend.

“Let’s do something to take your mind off this.” Her friend suggested. Y/N thought that be the best. Normally when she didn’t feel great, if she did something else to busy herself, the thought usually disappeared.

“Where are you planning to take me?” Y/N questioned, she got out of bed and collected her clothes that she would put on.

“I need to go down to Owlery, I promised to send my sister something from Zonko’s.” Her friend informed her, going into the toilet to get dressed.

Y/N decided to just get dressed in the dorm, the other three girls were fast asleep so she felt comfortable changing. The two girls them left the dormitory once they were ready and headed out their common room.

There wasn’t many students around the castle yet, but this was around the time many of them would be waking up. Many would wake up so thankful it was finally the weekend and they could have some sort of freedom.

Umbridge’s rule over the school was making many reach breaking point, there were new rules almost every day and it was completely turning Hogwarts into a prison. They weren’t allowed to do anything, couldn’t act like normal teenagers, she was determined to make everyone prim, proper and to not challenge the Ministry.

There only hope was Dumbledore’s Army, the only freedom they had. But Marietta Edgecombe had ratted them out, and they were all severely punished. Y/N felt sorry for Harry, it was all going so well and once they were caught, he blamed himself. Y/N tried to reassure her boyfriend that it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t get through to him.

In fact, the two of them hadn’t really spoken since Umbridge began giving them punishments, Harry was isolating himself and kept his distance. Y/N was missing him but sometimes he did this, so she decided to let him have a moment to himself and then he would be back to normal.

The girls eventually reached the Owlery, Y/N’s friend immediately heading to find her owl so she could send the products from Zonko to her sister. Y/N looked around at the different owls, but one caught her eye.

It was her parent’s owl. And it had a letter tied around their talon. Y/N untied the letter, about to read it until her friend appeared behind her.

“Has Y/N got a love note from Potter?” Her friend teased her.

“Parents owl.” Y/N informed her friend, who raised both brows. Y/N’s parents hadn’t really kept in contact with her much when she was at Hogwarts, so receiving a letter was unusual.

“What did they say?” Her friend questioned.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t read it yet.” Y/N replied, laughing slightly as she thought of something. “Might be so sad, might leave my nose running.”

“If it’s just to bring you down, ignore them.” Her friend reminded her, her arm wrapping around Y/N’s shoulder. “Let’s head back up, I’m starving.”

Y/N agreed, the two girls heading up the castle for breakfast. They entered the Great Hall and were about to sit at their own house table before Hermione waved them over.

“What’s that?” Hermione questioned immediately as they sat down in front of her, the girl’s two best friends were nowhere to be seen, but not unusual for them to be late for breakfast.

“Nosy are we, Hermione?” Y/N’s friend joked, Hermione playfully shrugged it off.

“It’s a letter from my parents.” Y/N told her, placing the unread letter onto the table.

“Oh.” Hermione mumbled, most people knew what Y/N’s parents were like, she had either told them or heard Harry’s complaints about they didn’t approve of him and the relationship. “Is everything alright?”

“I haven’t read it yet. I will after I have something to eat.” Y/N replied, scanning the table to try and find something to eat. “Where’s the toast?” Her friend reaching and grabbing a piece of toast for Y/N.

The three girls just quietly ate breakfast for a while and enjoyed each other’s company, Ron tiredly stumbled towards them. “Nice of you to finally join us Ronald.” Hermione greeted as he sat down beside her.

“Hermione, I was exhausted.” Ron huffed, grabbing as much food as he could onto his plate, he always acted like he barely eats.

“You always are.” Hermione mumbled under her breath, going back to eating some porridge.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N blurted out, poor Ron had been harassed by her since Harry started to isolate himself. Ron most definitely knew more than she did.

“Still getting ready, mate.” Ron spoke with his mouth full, Hermione pulling a face and scoffing. “I think he’s alright today, you know, I’d have a chat with him today.” He suggested.

“Thanks Ron.” Y/N smiled, finishing what she was having. Her eyes caught the letter again, she really didn’t want to open it but she was also desperate to find out what they want. With a quiet sigh, she picked up the letter and began to read it.

Dear Y/N,

We hope you are well at Hogwarts, Umbridge seems to finally be turning that school around for the better, I’m sure you’d agree.

Well you would have when you were younger.

We miss our old Y/N, always following the rules and in our footsteps. But every since you started to attend Hogwarts with that daft old man as your head teacher, you changed.

And of course that boyfriend of yours didn’t help either, just like his father, always in trouble. Poor Lily should’ve saved herself.

As you know, the Dark Lord is back. You know how we always felt towards him, but we fear he will target us because of your choices. Many have heard he won’t accept us, because of your closeness to Potter.

He may come after us Y/N, we need you back on our side. Otherwise we’re all dead, you don’t want Potter finding out you’ve been killed by him? He can’t lose another loved one to the Dark Lord.

Write back to us as soon as you can, we can guide you along the way.

All the best,

Mum and Dad.

Y/N eyes began to well up, she knew that feeling from this morning meant something, but for it to be this bad? How on earth she was meant to tell Harry this? “Everything alright?” Her friend put a hand Y/N’s shoulder, the latter had completely forgot where she was at the moment.

“I need to go.” Y/N informed them, quickly jumping up from the bench.

“What did they say to you?” Hermione questioned, but Y/N didn’t answer her. The girl made her way from the hall, eyes trained on the floor to avoid any eye contact from her friends. But that made it difficult to watch where she was going.

Y/N crashed right into someone. “I’m sorry.” She quickly apologised as she refused to look up, she just wanted to go back into her dorm room.

“Y/N?” A voice she could instantly recognise.

“I can’t talk right now, Harry.” Y/N rushed past him, she needed to think what she was going to tell him, if she was going to tell him.

“I just hope he don’t want to leave me.” She mumbled to herself.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It had been a few weeks and Y/N hadn’t said a word to anybody, her and Harry had completely switched places. She was the one isolating herself, trying to decide what to do. Ignore what her parents said, stay with her boyfriend and friends and hope to God nothing happens to them. Or risk listening to her parents, and possibly lose her relationships at Hogwarts?

She had been exchanging letters between her parents in the meantime to see what she needed to do, and it seemed to be to just join them at the Ministry, which didn’t seem so bad. Her parents worked high up for the Ministry anyway, so as long as they gave her permission to leave, Umbridge would let her.

Y/N had pretended to stay asleep until the rest of her dorm mates left, including her friend, before eventually getting up. The feeling in her chest was back from before, the one she got before her parents letter. “Something bad is about to happen to me.” She sadly mumbled, even the weather had mirrored her emotions, it was a dreary day, grey skies and gloom surrounded the castle.

Y/N fidgeted with her hands as she thought what would happen, anxiety fuelling her veins. “Why I feel this way? I don’t know…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe-“

The dorm door opened and revealed Y/N’s friend. “What the fuck is going with you?” She demanded. “What did they say to you to make you like this?”

“It’s complicated.” Y/N brushed off, should she tell her? She did tell her friend everything and maybe it would be good to have some advice.

After some deep breaths and forcing tears to stop falling, Y/N confessed to her friend everything. By the end of it, her friend was in complete shock, face contorting from confusing, to anger, to annoyance.

“And I just don’t know what to do about Harry.” Y/N sadly mumbled. “I think of him so much it drives me crazy.”

“Y/N, this is bad.” Her friend managed to stammer out.

“I just don’t want him to leave me.” Y/N cried, finally allowing the tears to fall.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.” Her friend snapped. “Of course he will. Joining the people who support the being who killed his parents?” She raised a brow. “I’d definitely forgive you.” Sarcastically she finished.

“But he knows what my parents are like.” Y/N countered.

“I don’t think he’ll care.” Her friend pointed out, deep down Y/N knew the same, Harry would be extremely hurt by this. “How the fuck are you gonna get out this?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugged. “You Know Who will kill them if I don’t help them.”

“Are you forgetting who your boyfriend is?” Her friend raised a brow.

Oh yeah, it would be completely fair on Harry to force him to protect her family. “Like he’s gonna show mercy.” Y/N huffed. “Harry was with Cedric and look what happened, he wants Harry and to just kill who gets in his way.”

It was silent for a moment, neither of them knew what to say. “What are you gonna tell him?” Her friend quietly spoke up, Y/N didn’t say anything. Her friend’s mouth fell open and eyes widened at Y/N’s lack of an answer. “You need to tell him.”

“And say what?! Sorry, I need to go help my Death Eater parents and probably do something for You Know Who.” Y/N snapped.

“I don’t know how to help you.” Her friend awkwardly mumbled.

Y/N knew she couldn’t. She was now trapped with no escape.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Y/N was at the Ministry with her parents, she still had no idea what they were doing or why they needed her, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought. The family got into an elevator and started to head down a few floors.

“Now, whatever you do, don’t talk.” Her mum warned her before the elevator stopped, the girl nodded and they walked out as the doors opened. Y/N could see Draco Malfoy’s father and another woman with curly black hair.

“Did it work?” Y/N’s father asked Lucius.

“I believe so.” Lucius replied, nobody really taking notice to Y/N.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” The black haired woman cackled.

“Now, now, Bellatrix. We have to leave him for the Dark Lord.” Lucius reminded her, the woman huffing dramatically. Y/N’s eyes widened, oh how she was praying they weren’t taking about Harry.

Please don’t be talking about Harry.

“What if he’s fine?” Y/N thought to herself. “It’s my mind that’s wrong. And I just let bad thoughts linger for far too long.”

“We’re going in. Have your wand ready.” Her dad whispered to her. They walked through a door with a handle in the middle into a huge room filled with crystal balls. She couldn’t study them for long before being dragged into the darkness.

The door had opened again a few minutes later, but Y/N couldn’t see who had walked in, only dragged by her parents deeper into the room.

“They should be here!” Harry’s voice was heard, Y/N’s heart dropping to her stomach. Why did he have to come here?

“Harry? It’s got your name on it.” Neville informed him.

“Follow Lucius.” Her mum whispered in her ear, Y/N reluctantly following him, who was now wearing a Death Eater mask.

“Harry!” Here it goes, Y/N kept back from Lucius as the group’s wands lit up the path, she desperately wanted to stay hidden and they would never know she was here.

“Where’s Sirius and Y/N?” Harry demanded as Lucius approached him.

“How fortunate we are to have Y/N right with us.” You could hear the smirk in Lucius’ voice, Y/N wanted to run and escape, but how could one girl manage to escape four Death Eaters?

“What are you talking about?” Harry angrily asked.

“Come on Y/N, don’t be shy.” Lucius gestures for her to come forward. Slowly and painfully, the girl got closer to Harry and the words kept repeating in her head.

“Don’t you give me up. Please don’t give up.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

thank you so much to @drearyxo for being my first request!! i hope this was class enough for you, no hate comments from you 🙄🙄

I HAVE TO SAY I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCHHHHH DEFO A FAVE i think you all know by now i’m definitely better at the dialogue part then anything else, but i’m quite proud of it all today :)

there could be a part two to this??? maybe, depends if people want it

hope you enjoyed!!

Taglist: @malfoysstilinski @drearyxo @just-a-bittersweet-tragedy @fizzleberries

#wroetospotterwp #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter

149 notes · View notes

consumeconstantly · 4 years

Text

A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

____________________________________________________

“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar.

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her.

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.” Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation.

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.”

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned.

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!”

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey.

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

"Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

________________________________________________

i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are

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verymuchimmortalcat · 3 years

Text

As You Were Once

For Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month Day 14: De-aged

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm

Marinette was waiting at the airport for her dad, Cass, Damian, Tim and Steph. Lucius had said that there were some important things to handle in the Paris branch of WE and had insisted upon Bruce dealing with it himself. Then the others wanted to join him, leaving Dick as Batman for the week, Signal, Red Hood, Oracle and the Birds of prey to protect Gotham. Alfred had decided to go on a vacation when most of the Manor's occupants were coming to Paris and Duke would be staying with Jason for the next week.

The five of them had promised that they wouldn't interfere in case of an akuma attack. Though Marinette was sure that they weren't going to sit back if they decided their help was needed. But hopefully they wouldn't deal with anything too severe this week.

She waves as she spots her siblings, all of them with the exception of Steph trying not to draw attention to themselves.

“B’s still getting everything sorted at customs and immigration,” Tim informs her once she’s finished hugging all of them.

She frowns, “was there a problem with something?”

“He’s keeping up his cover,” Damian states.

“He’s being unnaturally friendly to someone he hasn’t done a background check on,” Steph says.

“It was starting to get creepy,” Cass adds.

Marinette probably would have run away too. Galas were one thing, everyone there had been through an extensive background check but the whole Brucie Wayne act in front of people he knew absolutely nothing about was a completely different level of strange.

Their conversation turns to everything she’s missed since their last conversation. She gets a very detailed update on Damian’s pets

They weren't waiting long before they were joined by B. Though he had to leave almost immediately to WE apparently whatever he had come for had been more urgent than they had realised.

Once her dad is gone the five of them head to the bakery, while there wasn't space for everyone to stay at the bakery, all of them had wanted to spend time with the Dupain-Chengs.

.oOo.

They're all at the bakery when the screaming starts. All of them immediately jump up but before any of them can join her she stops them and tells them to cover for her. Tom and Sabine don't know her identity and her siblings can't risk theirs over what’s probably a simple akuma attack.

Promising them she'll call if she needs help she transforms and heads in the direction of the akuma. Adrien's already there but the others aren't supposed to transform unless needed. It's pretty close to WE. Marinette hopes her father actually remembered his promise and didn't become a target.

She stops to rescue a larger number of children then she'd normally have to. Why are there so many children outside during an akuma attack?

It's only when she stops in front of a boy who appears to be about seven who looks exactly like the photos Alfred has of her father at that age does she figure out what the akuma's powers are.

De aging.

Marinette asks him anyway, there is always the possibility that a random Parisian child looks exactly like a seven-year-old version of her father.

It is not a random Parisian child. Marinette is the holder of the miraculous of good luck, you really would think she’d have better luck.

She crouches down so that she’s at his eye level, “I’m going to take you somewhere safe. Is that ok with you?”

He looks unsure but he nods. Picking him up, she swings back to the bakery as fast as possible. She calls Nino, Alya and Kagami and tells them there's a family emergency and to take care of the akuma and to bring it to her so she could purify it.

Landing in an alleyway near the bakery, she de-transforms. She doesn't bother with telling him to keep her identity a secret. He already knows in the future and he's definitely not going to talk to someone who doesn't already know who she is.

Holding his hand she leads him to the bakery. She tells Damian to get the others up and takes her dad (wow, is it strange to think of an approximately seven year old as her dad) to the living room.

She tells Tikki to give tiny Bruce something to occupy his time while she and her siblings figure something out. As they all join her upstairs, she sees as each of them realise what's happened and go from shock to laughter.

"He doesn't remember anything. The others are taking care of the akuma. Figured you’d need help taking care of him," she says before Tim can ask.

"Hasn't happened yet," Cass states.

The laughter from a few seconds ago is gone. They all know what she's talking about. This Bruce Wayne hasn't lost his parents.

This Bruce Wayne also seems to be glaring at them, he also looks scared. She can’t blame him, he wasn’t offered much of an explanation before she brought him here.

"Where are my parents?” he demands, “The girl who brought me here obviously seems to be some kind of superhero. Who are the rest of you?"

None of them look shocked that he knows that she’s Ladybug but none of them are dwelling on that. He asked for his parents what could they even tell him? They obviously can't tell him his parents are dead but they also know it wouldn't be fair to lie to him.

"Would you like to talk to Alfred?" Tim asks suddenly. They all sigh in relief when he nods.

Marinette calls Alfred but doesn't hand the phone to tiny Bruce immediately, it would definitely be more painful for Alfred than any of them to deal with him in this state.

As soon as he picks up, Marinette starts speaking, "there was an akuma and dad became small and he's asking for his parents and we offered to call you instead."

Alfred being Alfred remains calm and asks her to hand the phone to tiny Bruce. All of them are staring at him as he talks to Alfred over the phone. Even though they can hear only one side of the conversation, tiny Bruce seems to calm down.

Once he ends the call, he hands the phone back to her and says, "Alfred says that some kind of magic made me small and that all of you are very important to me when I become big."

"You're strangely adorable," Steph says.

He frowns at that and he’s never before looked more like Damian.

“So, what do you like to do when you're bored?” Marinette asks, bending down in front of him and they all watch as one of the world’s greatest heroes rambles on about something his mom showed him last week.

.oOo.

This is the most they’ve ever heard Bruce talk about his parents and Alfred. They’re all listening intently about the woman who was their grandmother right now. Neither of them want to ask for more information. It wouldn't make sense to not know his parents if they were close to him. Alfred mentioned once that Marinette looks startlingly similar to Martha Wayne, Tim wonders if B’s picked up on it yet. Even if he has, Tim supposes, there wouldn’t be any reason for him to dwell on it as far as the Bruce in front of them is concerned his parents are alive and well.

They’ve all snuck pictures of him talking animatedly, he’s too carefree to notice, has no reason not to be. He’s already sent a few to Alfred and the others and immediately switched off notifications. Marinette and Damian do it too when their phones start blowing up, Steph’s just ignoring it and still taking photos and Cass is spamming them back.

He goes back to watching Bruce talk without the weight he’s been carrying in all the time Tim’s known him.

.oOo.

It's strange, Cass thinks, to see him like this. The closest he's ever been to this relaxed is when all of them are at the manor for something other than a gala or bat business.

She's alternating between listening to Bruce and tormenting her brothers who stayed back in Gotham. She’s sure if patrol wasn’t starting soon, they would’ve been here already for varying reasons.

She wonders if he’ll remember any of this when he comes back to normal, she’ll have to ask Marinette.

.oOo.

They moved to Marinette’s room in case the Dupain-Chengs check on them. Father’s taking a break from talking and is going through Marinette’s designs, Stephanie and Cassandra are with him. Drake seems to have taken on the responsibility of tormenting the others remaining in Gotham or he’s just texting his boyfriend, Damian doesn’t want to know.

He’s watching as the three of them go through Marinette’s designs, and watches as she gets progressively more flustered as they bury her in compliments, well mostly Stephanie, Cassandra and Father aren’t as vocal but it’s also the most he’s heard Father compliment someone sincerely.

It’s strange to think of the child in front of him as his father. He smiles a lot more and even laughed several times.

And then Stephanie mentions that Damian draws and Father’s asking him if he could look at his drawings. Damian offers him a small smile and unlocks his phone and shows him the recent painting of Titus, Alfred, Ace and Jerry and watches as his Father analyses the whole painting.

Maybe the child in front of him is not the father he’s gotten to know but it is nice to see him all the same.

.oOo.

Marinette’s starting to get worried. It’s been an hour and the others haven’t returned with the Akuma yet. They can’t keep tiny Bruce occupied forever. She’s considering transforming and checking it out when Tim pokes his head out from where he’s sitting on her bed and says, “hey Mari, delivery for you.”

Alya’s standing next to him with the akuma in a jar, looking confused. Marinette sighs, explaining this is going to be interesting.

She climbs up and heads to the balcony before transforming. Alya hands her the jar and Marinette purifies the akuma, calls for her lucky charm and throws it up in the air.

“So…” Alya starts, “wanna explain what that was about?”

“Family emergency. I’ll tell you about it later. Bye!” and then Marinette’s back in her room. Her siblings seem to be panicking and her dad’s not there. The Miraculous Ladybug should have taken him back to where he was. He’s probably standing in the middle of the street completely disoriented.

Detransforming she joins their discussion, or more accurately panicked argument, to let them know what happened. They’re all on their way to the Paris branch of WE in a few minutes. She’s sure one of the employees is bound to have found him and explained things to him but they’re still going just in case.

He’s attacked by hugs when they find him in the lobby of the building, he looks confused as to why but none of them offer any explanation. Steph’s the first one to pull away when her phone starts ringing.

“Shit. We forgot to tell Alfred everything’s fine again.”

Letting go of her dad, she checks her phone and there at the very top of her notifications is a missed call from Alfred. Just one, he’s not anything like the rest of the family as proven by the hundred notifications below that. Steph’s already picked up the call and handed it to B. Marinette sends Dick a message to let him know that everything’s back to normal and to please not come to Paris once patrol’s done.

There are people staring at them, which isn’t surprising but makes her uncomfortable all the same and she knows the rest of them probably feel the same, though Tim might've gotten used to it. They watch in silence as B finishes talking to Alfred and hands Steph’s phone back to her.

He looks over the bunch of them and asks, “did you have something to tell me?”

It feels like forever that they stand awkwardly looking at him before Marinette says, “nope! Nothing important,” and drags her siblings out of the building and back to the bakery. They can talk to him later and Damian’s yawning on their way back. It’s been one hell of a first day in Paris for them, she can’t wait for the rest of the week.

#the only reason this is on time is because ive had it written for a month #maribat #mbdbwm2021 #bio dad bruce wayne #my writing

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willyoulovemeinthemorning · 3 years

Text

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 1

Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Hello! This is my first fic in a very long time, but this story idea has been living in my head for upwards of 6 or 7 years! Please go easy on me, and I hope you enjoy! a big thanks to @candlesandsoftrain for being a great beta! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader  Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: nothing in this chapter except lots of flirting, tension, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 4000+

Chapter 1

The years moved by much too fast for your liking. You were older than you were willing to admit, and the years had been hard. Time moved so oddly- it was so difficult and slow when it was happening, but when you looked back, it was as if it sped by like a freight train.

Today was your first day at your new job- you were 27 and you’d been waiting your whole life for this day to finally come. After hearing stories about your father all through your life; catching the monsters in the dark as well as those that hide in plain sight… you wanted to be a superhero too. And lucky for you, you had a certain proclivity towards reading people. So, you became a profiler. And after years of grueling school, training and fighting to earn your place with no one knowing the legacy in your blood line, you did it.

No, those weren’t tears in your eyes… it was just dusty in the bullpen, that was all. You could feel him everywhere. You knew this was where he lived and breathed and worked for so much of his life. Your mom never understood how you ended up being so understanding about never seeing him, while your brother spent so much of your lives incredibly bitter and angry at him for “abandoning” you both. You always told Stephen that dad spent every minute of every day trying to make the world a safer place for the two of you to grow up in. And now you could finally continue his life’s work.

You caught a few pairs of eyes looking at you when you entered the bullpen for the first time, walking through like you’d been there a million times before- because in your imagination, your dreams, you had. Dad was always so descriptive with his words, and it was never hard to get lost in his stories.

You walked right to the Unit Chief’s office, knowing that Agent Hotchner was already in there waiting for you. You were supposed to have your first meeting on Monday, but when the team didn’t get back in time from their last case- a strangler in Minnesota, he had called you and you rescheduled to accommodate those dang annoying serial killers. Now it was Wednesday, and you could feel the tired energy in the room. It was filled with the sounds of scribbling pens and pencils on paper, the groans and squeaks of chairs as everyone tried to stay comfortable while doing their paperwork. You spotted a few very attractive people around you, but tried to keep your eyes forward as you headed for your destination.

After knocking on the door, you heard a shuffling of papers as a low, gritty voice welcomed you, “Come on in.”

“Hello, Agent Hotchner. Nice to see you again.” You offered your hand, which he took with his baseball mitt sized one. It was rough and strong, and reminded you of your fathers when you were young. You could tell these hands had seen a lot of conflict.

“Y/N , you’ve grown up a lot since last I saw you.” He had a kind smile on his face, which surprised you, even after all this time. Aaron Hotchner was always such a serious man, even when you were younger. “And please, call me Aaron. You know that.”

You chuckled in response. “I know, but it feels weird to call you that now that you’re my boss.”

“Hotch will do then. Morgan will give you quite a hard time if he hears you calling me ‘Agent Hotchner’, I can promise you that. Sit, sit. Let’s get through all the necessary annoyances so I can properly introduce you to your new team.”

After all of the finalized paperwork and introductory nuisances, Hotch finally stood up, indicating it was time to enter the bullpen again, but with a promise of introductions to your new team. You felt a small pang in your heart. You wished your dad could have been here to do this instead of Aaron. He took notice of your second of discomfort- something you were sure to get used to quickly working with profilers.

“Y/N, he’s here… in you. I know how proud he would be of you.” He said to you with a hand falling to your shoulder.

With a smile, you accepted the comfort, turning to look at him again. “Would you mind… could we see Uncle Dave first? I think it would make me feel a little better to have him next to me for this.” That damn dust was at it again. You were fine, really. You’d been preparing for this emotion for months now- there was nothing to surprise you.

With a gentle smile, Aaron- no, Hotch, you remembered- nodded. “Of course. Follow me to his office.” It didn’t escape your notice that, as you followed him, you were on your way to your dad’s old office. Each step brought you to a place you’d heard about, thought about, dreamt about, but had never seen. But when you walked in behind Hotch, you knew this was nothing like your father would have kept it. It just screamed Rossi.

“Y/n! If it isn’t the smartest and brightest star from the Academy, falling right here into our laps at the BAU!” Dave cheered as he saw you, shooting up from his chair and almost running to you, pulling you into his arms while Hotch closed the door to offer you all some privacy.

“Uncle Dave, you can’t believe how amazing it is to have you here on my first day.” You said into his shoulder, holding him close. He was always such a big supporter of your career- there every step of the way whenever your dad couldn’t be. You always said that you were lucky- god blessed you with a loving, mildly helicopter mother, and two superhero dads so fight all the monsters for you.

“You’re gonna be great, kid. Unless your academy grades and reputation were all a lie to get you out of their hair!” He laughed, low and warm.

You giggled, pulling back from him and punching him lightly in the arm. “Rude.” You took a deep breath, and both men noticed that you were preparing yourself to say something important. “Aaron, Uncle Dave... I made it here on my own, with my mother’s maiden name and no one knowing who my father is. I am so proud to be the daughter of Jason Gideon, and I miss him every day… but I think I want to keep my birth last name a secret for now, if you’re both okay with that. They legally changed my name when I was a baby, and while I would be so proud to have his last name again, I’m- just not ready to hold up his legacy just yet.” You explained to them, hoping they understood. Your parents had decided very early on that they didn’t want you to have the last name Gideon. It was just- too dangerous. Your father had put away too many bad people, especially people that preyed upon little girls, to risk your life that way. So while you thought of yourself as Y/N Gideon in your mind, you’d never said it out loud before. Not once.

“Of course, kiddo. Whatever you want, we’ll follow your lead. Hopefully Garcia can’t find anything with your last name, but we’ll have Kevin keep an eye on her search history in case she finds anything. But if you’re worried about anyone finding out, I would tell her and promise her to secrecy though. Because if super tech genius finds out before you tell her… everyone will know.” He explained, and you laughed. You’d heard about Garcia. Your dad used to drive her crazy. You considered Rossi’s advice and nodded, understanding and deciding to think on it.

“Ready?” Hotch said after a moment, gesturing to the bullpen, where you could see several people grouped up at a desk, staring into Rossi’s office with curiosity and perhaps a little bit of uncertainty.

“As I’ll ever be.” Rossi squeezed your hand and you smiled at him, a big toothy smile shining back at you. With two men you knew you’d already trust your life with by your side, you walked out of the room knowing that these people who you already knew so much about would soon also hold your life in their hands. “Team, I’d like to introduce you to the new member of our team, Y/N L/N. She’s transferred in with top marks from the Academy, and she’s been highly recommended by all of her professors.”

You blushed at his compliments, rolling your eyes at him. “I didn’t have the highest marks in ALL of my classes. Shooting targets took me a while.” You smile, waving at the team awkwardly. “Hi everyone, it’s an honor to be here with you. I’ve heard so much about all of you. You’re all pretty famous around the bureau. I can’t wait to meet you all and get to know you as my team instead of people I’ve been idolizing for 10 years!”

Everyone laughed, and a tall, dark and handsome man walked forward with a giant grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N, I’m Derek Morgan. You are welcome to continue to idolize me as much as you’d like.” You could have snorted, he was so much like your dad described.

“Nice to meet you, Agent Morgan.” You said with a mildly flirty smile, holding your hand out to him happily. No worries for you, you were definitely going to like your job if you had him to look at all the time.

“That’s enough touching for now, little newbie,” a big beautiful blonde said from behind him. “That is my man-candy you’re ogling and groping, thank you very much.” There was no venom to her words, just something that you could only describe as adorable teasing. She was so colorful, it was almost as if there was a light shining around her. She was just a glowing ball of sunshine… You knew you’d be fast friends with her. “I’m Penelope Garcia, resident tech Goddess and most loyal beck and call gal.”

You took her hand and shook it, before doing a slight curtsy, earning you a giggle. “An honor to meet you, Tech Goddess Garcia.”

“Ignore her, they’re perfect for each other because of their over inflated egos.” You heard a blazé voice coming from the other side of Derek Morgan. “He’s eye candy for us all, much to her dismay. She’s never been one for sharing. I’m Emily, one of the few normal ones here.”

“Normal, pfft. She’s far from normal. You should hear her talk about her cat. Jenniffer Jareau, but my friends call me JJ.”

You took both of their hands in firm handshakes, grinning at them both. “Nice to meet you, and thank you for the permission to ogle, Agents. As far as normal, I sure hope not. Normal is vastly overrated.” You grinned at them. Damn they were cute. Was this whole team models who decided to become do-gooders and join the FBI?

“Halloweentown, 1998, said by Debbie Reynolds.” A small voice in the back of the group piped in, confident in words and speed, but somehow… demure and shrouded in uncertainty, too. The team parted so you two could see each other, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a few seconds. In front of you was the prettiest, most adorable, hottest guy you’d ever seen. He had a sexy professor thing going on, but simultaneously looked like he was an anxious teenager, terrified of being bullied by this newcomer.

You longed to hold him and protect this stranger from the rest of the world and heal any wounds he had succumbed to in the time before you. He was staring at you too, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, pupils a little bigger than you can only assume they would normally be. After a snicker broke you both from the weird moment, pretty boy smiled a little and gave an awkward wave. “Hi. Doctor Spencer Reid.”

Oh. God. Your heart stopped a second time, and you swore, this is what a stroke felt like. You’d heard about Spencer for the last ten years. Your father loved him almost as much as he loved you and your brother. Maybe even more sometimes. The BAU resident genius, IQ of 187, eidetic memory, born in Las Vegas and wasn’t allowed in most casinos due to his card counting ability. Ability to empathize and love in a beautiful and incredible way- your father adored him, and because of how he spoke of him, you… you’d always had a crush on this faceless idea in your head with his wild mop of hair and tall, lanky frame. You had a general picture from all these years, but nothing had prepared you for this.

“H-Hi. I’m Y/N. N-Nice to meet you.” You said, trying your hardest not to sound like a little school girl with a crush on her teacher. You’d just met the man, for god sakes. You heard another snicker, and this time you knew it was from Morgan just from the proximity of the sound and the testosterone you could feel from the gesture. You tried to ignore your flaming red cheeks, and held out a hand a second before remembering that he hated being touched by strangers. A big germaphobe, always calculating the risk of what contact could mean for him. But before you had a chance to pull away, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. You must have looked as shocked as you felt, but no one else noticed because everyone was staring at Reid with the same expression you were wearing. And to be honest, he looked just as surprised, if not more so.

Garcia made a breathy squeak sound, and somehow, that broke the tension of the moment, and you and Reid pulled away at the same time, both looking like you’d just been shocked by electricity. You stretched your hand out, staring at it, feeling on edge all over again, thinking about how good his hand felt in yours, and how good it would probably feel other pla-

“Well, I hope you all will be on your best behaviors, and treat Y/N like you would want to be treated as a newcomer in a team like ours, seeing what we see.” Hotch finally broke the silence. “Y/N, if you have any problems, come find myself or Rossi and we’ll help sort them all out.” Nodding, you looked at him and smiled, suddenly very embarrassed that your boss and your uncle just witnessed all of that. As profilers, they were going to come to so many conclusions, and each was more embarrassing than the last.

“Pretty boy and pretty girl, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-” You heard Derek sing-songing and he walked away, looking like the cat who got the cream. He was interrupted only when Emily punched him quite hard in the arm, looking at you with a wink and a smirk as she headed back to her desk as well. You tried to avoid looking at the genius again, but it was… difficult to say the least. You wanted to memorize everything about him. You wanted to pick his brain and listen to every fact he’d ever memorized. You wanted to experience him in all the ways your father had gotten to and more.

You watched as the team dissipated and then your eyebrows furrowed. “Rossi?” You asked, stopping him in his tracks as he was headed back to his office. “Where’s my desk?” He looked over his shoulder at you and you could tell he was holding back a shit eating grin as he pointed with his thumb to the desk directly across from Reid.

Fuck. You both looked at each other… or well, you looked at him, and he looked away like he’d been caught doing something and sat down, looking at his paperwork blankly. As you headed to your new desk, you’d give anything to know what was happening inside that massive brain of his.

Staring at your empty desk, you imagined what you could put there. Pictures of your family, pictures of your friends and your cats… One day you would put up a picture of your father… one day. For now, you grabbed your briefcase from your side and opened it up. You started unpacking some of your first day necessities; pens and notebooks, little toys and bright objects to remind yourself that there is good in the world. Your pile of books out; you always kept at least ten books on you at all times. One for every kind of mood you could be in- and at least three that you hadn’t read yet and were planning on.

As you prepped your desk, you could feel those eyes on you, analyzing your every move. You wanted to look up and see if you could find what he was figuring out within those eyes, but you tried to keep busy so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself again.

“Another book nerd, I see.” You heard that deep, caramelly sweet voice behind you. Derek sat on your desk right next to you and smiled a toothy smile at you. “Pretty girl likes to read, huh?”

Smiling at him, you raised a brow. “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” You were about to quote the originator, but someone else beat you to it.

“Malorie Blackman. British children’s literature writer and science fiction author.” Your head snapped to the person in front of you, who wasn’t looking at either of you.

Smiling at him, you nodded, and then turned to Morgan. “Yup, Malorie Blackman. Empathy is a huge part of the job, right? Reading allows us to experience a million different perspectives- which, as proflers, is necessary to catch the bad guys. I read so I can try to understand as many perspectives in this world as possible.”

Derek looked a little impressed, at least, and you couldn’t get a read on the gorgeous mop of brown hair on the desk across from you. Derek picked up one of the books still on your desk, not organized in your little library yet. “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings?” He comments, and you catch Spencer’s eyes flick up at the title, curious.

“It’s my favorite. Not only do I love birds, but I’m a very big Maya Angelou fan. I’ve… always kind of felt like a bird stuck in a cage. Flitting about, trying to figure out what to do with my life and who I am... No book has ever made me feel more seen or understood as a human being.” You caught those big, interested eyes and you almost felt like you might have shared too much. You’ve always been an open book, but somehow, the way he was looking at you made you feel more vulnerable than you had… ever.

Derek nodded and smiled, putting the book down on your desk. “Well, lady genius, I’m going to try and get everyone to get together tonight for drinks, would you be interested in getting to know us in a more fun environment, or would you rather just go to the library with Pretty Boy over here and nerd out together?” He teased, making both of you blush.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve spent all of the years of my adulthood studying and sleeping and working to get here, so I haven’t really… spent a lot of time at bars?” Admitting that wasn’t the best feeling, but better to be honest than try to make up a lame excuse.

“Do I hear we have a light weight to peer pressure?” Derek said, loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone else. JJ and Emily looked enthused, and Rossi poked his head out of his office to chime in.

“Someone’s convincing Miss nose in a book Y/N to go out for drinks tonight? I’m in and I’m buying!” That was met with an uproarious approval from everyone on the team, with the exception of Reid, who was just looking at you, seemingly waiting on you to decide.

You bit your lip, noticing how Reid’s eyes fell to your lips in reaction. Well… if you could spend more time with the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen looking at you like that more… “Well… I guess. Sure. Sure, okay, I’m in.” You finally agreed, everyone whooping and hollering in celebration at you giving in. “Doctor Reid? What about you?” You looked at him through your eyelashes, and you could swear you saw his eyes dilate more.

“Oh, pretty boy barely ever comes out drinking with us anymore. He’s always holing himself up in his apartment- books from floor to ceiling, books in the fridge, freezer, on the bed, in his drawers and closets…” Derek teased, reaching over to Spencer and ruffling his hair.

Reid looked at Morgan and shoved his hand away and tried to fix his hair, rolling his eyes. “I do not have books in my freezer. That would be a terrible spot to put them, it would completely ruin the delicate spines.” You smiled at him in support, and he sat up a little straighter. “I… I’m in. For tonight.” He looked right at you when he said it, and you couldn't help but feel a little flutter in your stomach at the idea that he was going just to get to know you.

Morgan seemed to be thinking the same thing, and the face he gave Reid as he stood up and sauntered away said more than he needed to outloud. Once Reid looked away from Morgan, your eyes met and you both smiled again. “You’re a fan of Maya Angelou?” He asked, nodding towards your book.

“I am. I was always drawn to books that had birds on the covers, but then I actually read it and realized how beautiful it is on the inside.” You held the book in your hands gently. It was a mutual love, one your shared with your dad.

“The number of bird species in a person’s surroundings correlates directly to happiness levels.” He said, smiling at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The attention should have made you uncomfortable, but it just made you feel warm… important.

“Really?” You searched his eyes, wondering how much information was in that brain, stacked away for use when necessary. “That’s so interesting. I thought most people found birds annoying because of all the noise.”

He shook his head. “On the surface, they think it’s annoying, but once one becomes used to the sounds all around them, they find the background noise comforting. Most people find absolute silence much more disconcerting.”

“Absolute silence, for sure. But comfortable silence between two people who find solace in each other… I think that’s my favorite background noise.” He looked at you as you spoke, a small bit of hope flickering in both of your faces. You’d felt… alone, since your fathers spirit left this world months ago. It had been so hard to be at school and unable to go to his services, terrified of people finding out who your father was and that information altering your career. You hadn’t even applied to the bureau until you had your recommendation letters in order- you didn’t want Aaron giving you any false starts just because he knew. You liked to visit his grave once a month and tell him all the things you wrote in your letters to him. You carried around his private notebook as a reminder of the people in the world he saved, the people you wanted to save. You clutched your briefcase close, knowing you couldn’t put it in your desk with Reid watching you so closely. You’d find time to slip it in later, when no one was looking. With that eidetic memory, you knew he’d recognize it immediately, and you didn’t want his curious gaze to ruin your secret just yet. You wanted the team to form their own opinions of you before they knew... because the moment they knew, everything would change.

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