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tojiscrack · 8 months ago

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𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

summary: 13.6k words — you and your friends have returned from a vacation trip in italy! but it’s now time to go back to school and kick start your junior year of high school, but straight off the bat, megumi finds himself immersed in gossip he's usually never bothered by…

notes: welcome to the first ever main-plot-starting chapter of liar, liar! *cheers in the background* FINALLY! we’re here. isn’t it ironic how this time last year i was writing the first ever chapter of liar, liar, and now an entire year later, i’m kick starting the main plot? 😧 time flies… here's my halloween gift to you all! (it's easily my most favourite holiday EVER). and it's also been a week since my birthday, ty for the wishes, kind messages, dm's, asks, tips, etc!! now enjoy this chapter <3

tw: swearing, gossip, mention of violence, threats, and that’s it lmao

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

september 2019 - junior year

"everyone open theirs at the same time, got it?"

"but mine's got tape on it!"

"shut up, yuji."

"i already opened mine."

you dived across the table to snatch the paper out of megumi's hands, throwing him a look of irritation because of how he'd spoiled the entire thing. it only irked you further when he had the audacity to fix you with a glare himself.

"you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" you snapped, placing his timetable face down on the table, refraining from looking at it before he could despite the devil on your left shoulder whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

you gave in and flipped the sheet over. he ruined the order of things anyway, what was the point of adhering to the rules he never listened to to begin with?

"megumi!" you gasped, feeling enraged as you stared down at his timetable.

out of the nine classes you had, pre-calculus was the only one you shared with megumi. to your disbelief, you didn't even share homeroom, so the only other chances to see him were during study hall, break, and lunch, which felt far too short to make up for the overwhelming imbalance.

it didn't make sense, now that you analysed it further. with all the classes available, how was it that pre-calc was the only one you had in common? you felt a nagging frustration, trying to wrap your head around the fact that your paths would now cross so little this year despite the fact that you used to be attached to the hip before. every other subject offered countless opportunities to stick together, yet here you were, navigating a maze of schedules that kept you apart.

you caught yuji and nobara in your peripheral vision, both comparing their own timetables and bickering simultaneously.

megumi was a genius, extremely academically gifted, especially in stem. when it came to any branch of math, the kid aced every exam effortlessly.

and you weren't the worst at it, some would argue..?

the more you thought about it, the more bewildered you became — how could you end up sharing the one class that exposed all your weaknesses, the same one that he excelled in?

he flinched when your voice suddenly rose once more:

"you're taking ap stats?" you demanded, only just realising that he had one extra lesson than you, yuji, and nobara. it was at the very top of the table, labelled 'period 0'.

"don't give him an opportunity to act more pompous than he already is," scoffed nobara, looking uninterested. you did not comment on how she still peeked over the sheet when she thought you weren't looking.

"wow," yuji began, looking pleasantly in awe at megumi's hefty schedule. he leaned back in his seat, careful not to pull himself too far back in the event that he might fall off. you secretly wished that he would, if only to stifle your current shock. "so you'll start the day earlier... won't you be exhausted when we get to football practice?"

that was a good question. since coach yaga had stubbornly given both megumi and yuji spots on the school's football team, it had since been announced that practice would take place every day after school unless otherwise mentioned. with megumi's mornings starting earlier than the rest of you, and his days finishing later, he was bound to be torn down with exhaustion. although he acted like a robot all the time (eat, sleep, make a rude comment about you, repeat) he was still a human who needed rest. more school meant more social interaction. more social interaction meant a drained megumi. things would only go south from there.

he shrugged at the question.

"i'll be fine," he answered, unbothered.

you disagreed. "you'll die —"

"— revive me with your mermaid abilities then —"

you hoped you pinched him hard enough to bruise.

"wait," you said, halting your attack on him with a slow frown. he took the opportunity to rip your hands off his ribs and shuffled away from you. you ignored him, sliding down to sit hip-to-hip with him. "if you do ap stats in the morning, we can't walk to school together."

for the nth time that day, megumi snatched back his timetable from you.

"good luck," he said, eyes half-lidded with that ever-present air of indifference. "you cross the road like you have nine lives."

"you basically just told her that you wouldn't care if she died," yuji intervened, quick to jump to your defence despite the many times you would argue with him, too.

you glanced at him, eyes naturally drifting down to the obvious tan line on his neck from the vacation the four of you had attended with your family in the summer.

nobara scoffed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before pointing, accusatory, at megumi. "this is what happens when you hype him up," said nobara, her finger jabbed at him with enough aggression, any outsider would probably assume that he'd committed blasphemy — you liked to think he had.

"i'm surrounded by idiots," you thought you heard him mutter, his voice low enough to almost go unheard, though the faint tightening of his jaw gave him away.

waving his timetable at him, you unknowingly creased the smooth sheet. "speak up, porcupine."

"do you hate it when he mumbles, mother gothel?" said yuji, randomly turning on you instead.

your head might have had a fifty-fifty chance of snapping right off your neck with how fast you'd turned it to face yuji with a glare. of all the things he could have thrown at you, why did he pick a tangled reference, one that barely bit at your core?

"first of all, what the hell?" you responded, visibly and audibly startled. "secondly, you were supposed to be on my side —"

"yeah i know," he replied, breaking out of his character to speak to you in that usual, gentle and low voice of his, the one you were much familiar with, "but i just remembered that megumi might leave me behind after football practice, so i can't take any chances."

"you're a traitor!"

"it's every man for himself!"

to no one's surprise (except for yuji's), nobara, seizing the moment you had created, sent his head crashing forwards against the table. she'd apparently been waiting for the perfect opportunity for it, and you had handed it to her on a silver platter.

"y/n, swap," she said, sliding her timetable down and waiting for you to make the exchange, barely registering the groan of pain and annoyance yuji had followed her demand with.

you shrugged and complied, exchanging yours for hers with pursed lips.

as you scanned nobara's timetable, you found yourself pouting less, pleased. half of your classes aligned perfectly with hers, from pre-calc to english — even p.e and homeroom, matched. the thought of surviving junior year alongside nobara was a hopeful silver lining. leaving megumi behind wouldn't be too bad, you noted in your had, glancing at his unnecessary scowl.

maybe this was done for a reason. if you spent too much time with him, the grumpy attitude would probably become contagious and you'd be the unfortunate one to catch it.

you watched him glare at nothing.

yeah, you definitely didn't want to become that.

"but we all have gojo at some point, right?" said nobara, her voice drawing your mind away from the undiagnosed disease your mind had planted megumi with.

you lined each of your timetables at the centre of the white, circular table, flicking yuji's head away to create more room for it. he lifted himself back up, scowling when you flicked at his hands next.

"we're all in different classes with him," you commented idly, tilting yuji's timetable a little further to read it more accurately.

"oh, you and i have physics with him together," you informed him, content and satisfied.

"hmph," yuji grunted, rubbing his forehead and throwing dirty looks at nobara from the side. despite this, however, you could see the way his ears had straightened up at your comment, also seemingly pleased with the shared class — it reminded you off the ash-blonde puppy you had seen last year, when you were looking for totalityfor megumi's birthday.

"i wanted ieiri," said megumi, taking his timetable back and glancing down at it, then to yuji's, and back again, seemingly making a comparison in his head.

"we all have her for chem," said nobara, leaning the upper half of her body over the table to glance over his sheet. "don't you?"

"yeah," he confirmed, sounding displeased. "and satoru for every other science. ap bio first period — no one needs to hear his voice that early in the morning."

yuji beamed, taking his paper away from the line of your timetables you'd created with it and shoving it down towards megumi's side of the table.

"don't worry megumi!" he'd said, his pearly white teeth showcased as he grinned. "we have ap biology together!"

megumi's eyes slowly shifted from yuji's overly enthusiastic face to his timetable, and then back again, completely unamused. his expression didn't change, and no words were exchanged as he remained deadpanned, yuji patiently awaiting his response; the excited sparkle in his eye dimming as each second went by in silence.

megumi blinked twice, offering a dry, "great. just what i needed."

yuji took that personally.

"hey —"

"gojo might be incredibly annoying," said nobara, cutting through yuji without a care in the world; she was frowning down at her own timetable, brows furrowed, "but i've never failed a class of his. ever." she looked up at you all with a grim expression over her face. "don't tell him i said that."

"you've got a point," you added thoughtfully. "you think he pulled a couple strings to have us in his classes this year?"

"oh for sure," said nobara, her response quick and short. "we have — what — over twenty different science teachers in the whole school and somehow every year without fail we're in his classes? tell me that's a coincidence."

as your friends discussed the things that satoru must have done in order to have each and every one of you in his classes this year, you stared down at your timetable, eyes glued down as something suddenly hit you in your mind.

you were now going to be lonely in performing arts due to the fact that nobara had switched majors. her electives were now filled with fashion design courses, her dream ever since the end of sophomore year, and you were glad she had finally come to pick something she found genuine joy in, but it still stung a little.

you sighed, almost feeling silly for missing something so trivial, but the thought of no longer having those shared moments with her in drama class left a hollow ache. it wasn't as if she hadn't told you this would happen during your vacation in the summer, yet the reality was harder to digest than you had initially anticipated.

"fashion design," you stated, as yuji and megumi found themselves immersed in a pointless argument about satoru and his questionable teaching methods. "i think mai was saying something about that the other day."

"yeah," said nobara, her voice suddenly gloomy as she deflated in her seat, eyes half-lidded and lips in a pout. "there's a workshop in the first class. the seniors are helping us."

a small, amused smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as she sulked in her seat. her exaggerated pout and half-lidded eyes made it impossible not to find the whole situation a bit funny. you rested your chin on your hand, observing the way she dragged her finger absentmindedly across the table's surface, a clear sign of how unenthusiastic she was about the whole thing.

nobara's disdain for her was no secret — mai, with her sharp tongue and competitive attitude, grated on nobara's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. they'd crossed paths during seventh grade, and from that point on, nobara had made it clear she had no interest in mai's condescending remarks or constant need to outshine everyone, especially in the fashion design world. it didn't help that they were often compared to each other when shopping, fuelling the unspoken rivalry between them.

"y'know, she's not that bad," you commented thoughtfully. you had also grown to like mai a bit better throughout the years.

megumi thought it was appropriate to intervene and add his own unwanted input (during the middle of his stupid back and forth with yuji, too).

"you're only saying that 'cause she's your blackmail partner," he'd said, furrowing his brows at you with a look of obvious impatience.

you did not even turn your head to face him when you responded.

"it's not blackmail," you countered slowly, as nobara raised her brows at you expectantly. "it's... making someone do something... by using... pieces of information... as... leverage!"

"that's literally the definition of blackmail —"

"shut up," you smiled politely.

"megumi!" yuji interrupted, shoving his phone in megumi's face with such enthusiasm, you would have thought he just found out that he was the chosen one at camp rock. "look!" he shook his phone aggressively. "brazil likes tan lines! no you have to look, megumi! it says they associate it with beach culture!"

megumi grimaced at the screen, his nostrils flaring as he slapped yuji's hand away.

"yeah, 'cause nothing says 'beach culture' like looking like a poorly toasted sandwich," he retorted, scowling when someone on the other table had shot him a sharp look.

you laughed, met with the sight of yuji in a defensive stance, eyes wide and brows furrowed at the dark haired boy sitting next to you. he was pointing at himself, at the two shades of skin on his neck, his fist clenched which only emphasised the veins running up his hand.

"you keep saying that like i didn't wear sunscreen, but i did!" he snapped, drawing the attention of the people passing by your table. megumi pinched the bridge of his nose as yuji went on, uncaring of the fact that almost every eye in the cafeteria was drawn to the four of you, courtesy of yuji and his unnecessarily loud speech. "i wore the kids one, but it's still sunscreen!"

"what brand?" asked nobara.

"nivea!"

"didn't they run tests for that one and find that it's actually a leading cause for skin cancer in its consumers?" you said, watching his face comically pale as he glanced down at his own hands, a lot darker than what they used to be like before the trip to italy.

yuji's brows knitted together, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if struggling to maintain composure, but the fear creeping into his wide eyes betrayed him. you could see the panic in the way he darted glances between his hands, his arms, and even under the table where his legs were, as though expecting to see something awful already happening.

nobara had taken the opportunity to scare him a little further, making up random statistics about non-existent kids who had reached critical condition due to the sheer amount of the product they'd used, and as she continued, his expression grew more strained, the color slowly draining from his cheeks, leaving him looking almost as pale as the white cast left behind the sunscreen he'd used.

your phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up with a text notification. you pressed the button to read it properly.

coffee-hose victim: Check if final pay-check was received

mandy.

you'd check later. you were in no rush, you decided, as you stared at the message briefly, feeling a dull sense of finality wash over you.

both you and megumi had been made redundant after the café shut down over the summer — an abrupt closure that neither of you had seen coming. mandy, your old manager, had been sorting out the final payments for the staff, promising to get things wrapped up even after the little shop was cleared out. now that everything was nearly done, you'd finally be able to delete her number from your phone, erasing the last trace of that chaotic job, of her.

but it also meant finding new jobs, and you refused to work without megumi by your side.

"we need to apply for jobs this week," you told him, showing him your home-screen that had mandy's notification banner at the very top. his eyes followed each word smoothly before looking back up to meet your gaze. "probably not hospitality ever again."

"i'd work at miss B's if she ever let us," said megumi, as you placed your phone back down and silently nodded in agreement. "i like her."

"mind saying that again?" you grinned, lifting it back up and having it hover near his mouth that had been set in a straight line the second he saw your lip curl. "i want to make it my ringtone."

"shut up," he snapped, slapping your wrist away quite like he had done with yuji not even five minutes ago. you laughed but complied anyway. having megumi's voice as a ringtone would make it so that you would never actually pick up the calls. he frowned at you. "come over to mine and we'll apply then."

you threw him a sideways look. "no, you come over to mine."

he furrowed his brows at you.

"what difference does it make?" he asked, his eyes critiquing your every move. nothing out of the ordinary.

you sighed loudly; someone might have assumed you were in the middle of a chore.

"if i see toji, i'm going to be tempted to make fun of him. i'll get distracted," you explained, shaking your head at your friend as though it had been the most easiest thing, and he had failed to understand. "top of the class and yet you're not the exactly the brightest crayon in the box, are you?"

"shut up," he repeated for the second time in the very same minute.

nobara turned her head slowly, deliberately, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on megumi. there was a brief, almost theatrical pause before her lips curled slightly at the corners, (the way they did when she was about to say something cutting) as the dim light of the cafeteria above you all caught the sharp angle of her cheekbones.

"megumi, i can not argue with idiot number one," she began, lifting her chin to gesture at a pale yuji, "when you, idiot number two, keep telling someone to shut up. how about you shut up for a change, huh?"

megumi narrowed his eyes at her. "i'm the only one out of the four of us that only speaks when spoken to."

she gawked at him. "you calling us chatterboxes?"

"i'm saying that when either of your mouths open, the stuff that comes out of it is never relevant nor necessary."

the three of you sat in silence, each watching him with different expressions on your faces.

and megumi felt the need to clarify:

"none of your statements are of any substance —"

"we get it!" snapped nobara, her gaze cutting and sharp. she took enough care to kick him beneath the table, which only began the onslaught of physical attacks, one you joined in for the sole purpose of bullying megumi. you thought he deserved it this time.

as the assault continued, something clicked, and you pulled back from the friendly fire. watching megumi's face — strained and faintly exasperated — you remembered something nobara had mentioned weeks ago about the family's international dojo business, which was the zenin's main source of income and how they were so incredibly rich.

it was easy to forget sometimes; the quiet, slightly reserved megumi you knew now didn't quite fit the image of someone being groomed to run an international dojo and martial arts empire, but as he braced himself for nobara's next jab, you couldn't shake the thought: he was taking business classes, which only further supported your idea, and for a moment, you considered the irony of seeing him here, bickering with you all instead of learning the ropes of the large business awaiting him.

"hey," you said, tapping his shoulder and flinching when he turned to look down at you so suddenly.

"what?" he snapped, but only after swiping nobara's timetable off the table and onto the floor when she kicked him on his funny-bone. he was blinking hard at you, as though trying to clear his vision of the black spots contaminating his sight.

"oh excuse me for wanting to help mr dominant-alpha-wolf out," you shot back, hands raised mockingly. when he scowled at you and patiently (yet reluctantly) waited for you to continue, you went on. "talking about applying for jobs, why don't you just get some business experience at ten shadows?"

the zenin clan's dojo, ten shadows, specialised in jujutsu — a tradition they shared with the gojo's and, of course, the kamo clan too. it was where uncle ogi spent most of his time in, and where toji spent none of his time in.

megumi didn't seem to like that idea, regarding you with furrowed brows and a scrunched nose.

"so i can spend all day with uncle ogi?" he retorted, and despite your initial idea still standing tall in your mind, you had to silently admit to yourself that he raised a good point. uncle ogi was funny when he was angry (which tended to be ninety-nine percent of the time) but you could only take so much of that in one day. knowing him, he'd probably force you to work nightshifts with no breaks. "no thanks," megumi voiced, unimpressed with the suggestion.

"why don't you just lie on your application forms and stuff?" yuji suggested, his mouth in a straight line. it seemed that he had not got over the sunscreen scare just yet. "i did."

"you lied about working at ten shadows?" you asked, brows raised and eyes wide. "that's an international dojo. they go world-wide. global. your employers will find out."

yuji shook his head, raising his hand to wave it at you dismissively. "no, not there," he scoffed, smiling widely. "what do you think i am, huh? stupid?"

no one said anything; he sat up defensively.

"hey —"

"so what place did you lie about then?" nobara cut through him, literally pulling him out of his stance by his elbow.

he shrugged her off with a scowl, but answered nonetheless.

"gojo said i could say i worked at his family's pharmacy."

everyone around the table went still, eyes widening as they processed what yuji had just casually revealed. megumi blinked, caught off guard, while you tilted your head, brows raised at his unexpected response. it was only nobara, however, who looked thoroughly impressed, her lips curling as she nudged him with a newfound admiration and yuji, oblivious to the stir he'd just caused, seemed to enjoy the brief, astonished silence hanging over the table.

"it's cool, right?" he voiced loudly, grinning. "he said i should write that i worked at one of his biotechnology firms, but if the interviewer asked me questions about it, i'd never know how to answer 'em."

megumi shot him a look.

"what do you know about pharmacies?" he demanded, watching yuji shrug confidently.

"you gotta answer some calls, make requests. er... stock up on the medicine and stuff," he mumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and nodding. it looked like he was actually thinking hard about it. "deal with old ladies... and old men... er... yeah!"

"i'm putting that on my application too, then," said nobara, nodding. she made eye contact with a stoic megumi. "and you should too. only, with your family's business."

"no," the dark-haired boy responded, glowering at the three of you. "it's not genuine."

"oh here we go again," you sighed, rolling your eyes.

it had been the same situation two years ago with his easy position on the football team, when yaga offered him a vacant spot without the requirement of turning up to try-outs. megumi truly believed that if the offer was given solely to him, it was disingenuous and unfair, therefore accepting what was rightfully presented would also be disingenuous and unfair.

lying on an application form with security knowing that his family would definitely vouch for him if asked was where he drew the line.

"i'm not the serial liar here," he reminded you all, purposefully meeting your gaze to prove his point; you could have murdered him right there.

"maybe not, but you are the porcupine-hedgehog-sea-urchin breed here though —"

"you'dknow all about sea urchins, mermai—"

he left school that day with a small bump on the side of his head and a lesson still unlearned: do not mention the mermaid incident of two-thousand and eleven.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the hallway stretched ahead, brightly lit by fluorescent lights overhead that reflected off pale, polished floors. blue lockers lined either side, their surfaces a mix of chipped paint and stickers left from previous years, giving a lived-in look to the corridor's otherwise sterile presentation.

as you and megumi walked past several groups of people — some leaning against lockers, others conversing on the floor — you nudged him on his side.

"where do you usually sit?" you asked him, turning a corner to enter the corridor with the descending stairs. the two of you walked down them with ease, careful not to trip over that one step at the very bottom that always managed to catch your undone laces and have you stack in front of everyone.

megumi lagged a step behind, and before you could question it, you felt a slight tug on your bag, shifting it side to side. as you neared his homeroom, the faint sound of your zipper sliding into place caught your attention — he'd just fastened it for you without a word.

when he came back to your side to match your pace, you grinned up at his scowling face.

"thank you, porcupine!" you said brightly.

he adjusted the strap of his schoolbag, simple and black, and grunted, his form of acknowledgement.

you nudged him again, this time with your hip. "you didn't answer my question."

he shot you a sharp look, as though warning you not to test his patience. it wasn't like you'd ever heeded the warning in all the years you'd known him for, and yet you were still living and breathing and walking, alive and well.

"shouldn't matter to you," he responded, but only when it had become clear that you were not going to budge on it. megumi continued to face ahead, watching his steps as he spoke. "we're not in the same class and you won't be allowed in."

"ah, but if my memory serves me correctly," you beamed, sliding in between several seniors who were blocking the hallway to get to his class, and he shadowed you, right by the back of your heels, "you said the exact same thing in kindergarten and then they changed my name in the register so i was in your class permanently."

"set my fate with that dumb decision."

"hey," you frowned, looking at him from over your shoulder and furrowing your brows, lips set in a straight line. "that's rude."

megumi didn't grace you with a response to that, only following in your footsteps as you managed to squeeze past the groups of people huddled in the middle of the narrow corridor.

"besides," you began, once the two of you were walking side-by-side again, "if that decision wasn't made, you'd have a boring life, porcupine."

as the two of you neared megumi's classroom, the energy of the hallway shifted — voices grew louder, students lingered in clumps near the door, waiting to slip in just before the bell rang. it did tend to annoy you when they'd stand in a huddle and make it difficult to walk properly, but you'd gotten used to it after the first couple of weeks starting high school for the first time.

the sharp lines of megumi's face settled into something halfway between annoyance and resignation, his brows pinched, and his jaw clenched slightly as though he were biting back a retort. he shot you a sidelong glance, and for a moment, a split second in time, his expression softened — if you didn't know him that well, you might have thought you imagined it — almost as if he were mulling over what you'd said before huffing quietly, that familiar scowl reappearing on his face as he straightened his posture, ready to brush you off as he always did.

"you don't believe me?" you questioned, amused.

"it'd be stupid of me to believe someone who has a criminal history of lying," he grumbled, eyes half-lidded as though the answer had been obvious enough for a five year old to guess. arguably, you thought the five year old version of him probably would have said the exact same line, word for word. he had been too grown to actually be a kid.

"lying is part of my major," you reminded him, brows raised. "that's why i'm always the lead in the plays."

megumi averted his gaze, grumpy. "my bad. i thought you threatened everyone for the role —"

"i'm not a delinquent like you," you told him, smiling, and when he made a move to pinch you on your side, you dramatically flattened yourself against the lockers."i'll yell for help!" you hurriedly warned him, eyes cautiously wide as you followed where his pale hand was left outstretched near you.

he narrowed his own at you, contemplating. you could see the cogs turning in his head, thinking, deciding. you helped him make his decision faster by parting your lips, a silent threat. wisely, he retracted his hand, walking to his classroom which was at the end of the corridor, not looking back to see if you would catch up to him.

you did, in fact, catch up to him, if only to prove your initial point:

"if you weren't friends with me, what would you keep yourself entertained with, huh?" you asked, slapping his bag. he threw you a dirty look despite the fact that the hit wasn't enough to even make him stumble. "your non-fiction books? oh, i know a great non-fiction joke for you!"

"leave me alone," said megumi, glowering. "isn't your class down there?"

he gestured to the other end of the corridor.

you ignored him.

"why can't you trust an atom?" you asked, and when he refused to answer, instead choosing to duck under miss zaid's oustretched arm to go inside his class, you answered anyway, halting by the door because she stepped in front of you. "because they make up everythi— oh hey miss zaid!"

the teacher in question took back her arm and folded it over her chest, leaning against the door frame to block your entrance. you looked around, over your shoulder and around the corridor, before looking back up at her and smiling.

"who are you standing guard for?" you asked brightly. "can i help?"

"you can," she nodded, jutting her chin in the direction of the end of the hall, her expression half amused and half firm. "by making your way to mrs jenkins's class."

you shook your head firmly.

"but mr gojo said i could stay here instead," you said, expression grave. satoru had said no such thing, but that didn't matter, not to you at least.

"okay," said miss zaid, letting out a long exhale through her nose. "and is mr gojo part of the student advisory?"

your eyes darted left and right, momentarily speechless.

"he owns the pharmacy down the block," you tried, smiling pleasantly.

"and what does that have to do with the school?"

"erm... the first aid stuff in the school —"

the more you blabbered, the more unconvinced she became. you raised your brows at her, stern and serious.

"but my timetable's changed," you informed her, watching as the crease between her brows began to deepen as you spoke. "yeah, it says i'm in this class now."

miss zaid stepped aside to let two other students through. you took the opportunity to try and follow in right after them, only to be stopped when she rapidly stood back in that defensive position again. you frowned — what were you, a danger to the class?

"does it say my name on your timetable?" she asked you, curious.

you nodded.

she extended her hand, making a come hither motion.

"show me your timetable," she'd said, and at that, you froze.

it had been a lie after all. you were hoping to gain entry without the necessary proof. it had, after all, worked last year.

you watched her brows unknit themselves, tilting her head at you expectantly.

you paused.

"miss i really like the colour of your hijab today —"

"go," she interrupted loudly, pointing at the room you were meant to be in, all the way on the other side of the country, "to class, y/n." she looked up and nodded. "hi, yuji — come inside."

you turned and looked over your shoulder. sure enough, yuji was right there, walking alongside junpei, a tall, skinny boy who you had met during middle school in one of yuji's classes. the two were close, and when neither you, megumi nor nobara wanted to watch the weird movies yuji was always invested in, junpei had always been his go-to.

junpei was also in your homeroom class with nobara.

"what're you doing here?" yuji asked you, nodding at junpei when he walked off in the direction you were meant to be going in.

"what am i—" you repeated with a scoff, looking around as though that had been the stupidest question ever asked. "this is my class!"

miss zaid sighed. "y/n," she uttered your name sternly.

"miss, i can knock her out and then carry her to her actual class," yuji offered seriously.

you turned slowly, fixing yuji with a look that could curdle milk, disgust etched across your face, brows pinched and lip curled as though you'd just been asked to eat a pile of socks.

without missing a beat, yuji assumed a playful but overly dramatic fighting stance, feet squared and fists up like he was in some action movie. he bounced lightly, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness as he sized you up. perhaps it would've been almost intimidating if he hadn't grinned halfway through, flashing his teeth in a way that revealed he was completely unserious, and only had you staring at him with that unmoving disgusted expression.

"i appreciate your efforts yuji, but that... won't be necessary," miss zaid added, stepping aside to let him go inside.

"you have a bunch of weirdos in your class," you told her, scowling at the top of his pink head as he ducked under her arm and waved enthusiastically at megumi, who was slouching in his seat at the back of the classroom. "that's why i'm not in it."

and before she could order you to leave again, you stood on your tiptoes and waved at your grumpy friend, blowing kisses and beaming at him.

"bye megumi elizabeth fushiguro!" you yelled, smiling from ear to ear, and bouncing on your toes excitedly. "i'll miss you megumi elizabeth! bye megumi! i love you megumi! i'll miss you megu—"

"all right, i think he heard you," miss zaid nodded, looking over her shoulder to be met with the sight of the dark-haired boy facing the board with such seriousness, it appeared as though the class had already started and he was listening attentively to the non-existent teacher. his eyes would dart back to meet yours, and each time they did, his gaze would harden and his scowl would deepen.

"did i tell you how much i'll miss you, megumi?" you added loudly.

"y/n, don't make me write you up and give you a detention," said miss zaid, watching as you waved a hand at her and walked off.

"all right, all right, i'm going," you grumbled, turning on your heel and strolling down the hallway.

as you moved farther away, miss zaid's voice echoed faintly behind you, catching you off guard as she questioned whether megumi's middle name was actually elizabeth, her tone somewhere between bemusement and scepticism.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the boys' locker room was a space with rows of navy-blue metal lockers, their surfaces chipped and dented from years of use. megumi unlocked his and shoved his school pants inside, the overhead fluorescent lights casting a sharp, sterile glow over the room, bright enough to reflect off the scuffed tiled floor where several of his teammates were sitting, tying their shoelaces. other members of his team, including yuta, yuji, and toge, sat on the wooden benches that ran parallel to the lockers, worn and slightly uneven in places, each spot marked by countless cleats and gear bags left by players.

chad had been complaining about the faint smell of old sweat and disinfectant that clung to the air, mingling with the metallic scent of the lockers, and despite megumi not conversing with the rest, he silently agreed.

where the few hooks were attached along the walls (each draped with stray jerseys, hoodies, and extra uniforms) megumi glanced down at his own, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips. he would need to get a new one — he had outgrown the one he'd just got over the summer.

he didn't know whether he should be pleased or annoyed: perhaps both.

"yaga's gonna murder you if you don't have that game plan ready for today, todo," one of the guys — oliver martin, megumi realised — had said.

todo had been quick to retort:

"this was way more important!"

in the back corner where todo stood tall, a whiteboard was propped up with play diagrams still faintly visible from last practice, but the deep lining of blue marker that formed a surprisingly accurate drawing of nobuko takada (a japanese pop idol who todo had mentioned several times that he'd die for) took up the rest of the board.

he kicked a couple of duffel bags that slouched nearby, stuffed with tangled shin guards, socks, and forgotten water bottles, before speaking in that excessively loud voice of his.

"if any of you, except for my brother yuji, can give me your type of woman that's valid," he began, only warranting several groans and protests from every member in the room, "i'll come up with a game plan so you don't have to!"

kamo, who had been minding his own business up until now, slammed his locker door shut and stared up at the demanding team captain, eyes half-lidded.

"you did this last time and then tried to attack chad," he reminded him, and chad, who had been sitting on the bench slouched over, sat up and shook his head, disappointed.

"yeah, dude," he spoke breathily, visibly upset, "and that wasn't cool."

"YOUR TYPE ISN'T COOL —"

"relax," said kamo, which prompted everyone else to follow and agree.

todo's gaze snapped towards kamo, lingering a beat too long, his eyes narrowing in an expression that balanced somewhere between irritation and threat, his jaw clenching as he sized him up, lips pressing into a thin line, as though silently daring him to say more.

"what's your type then?" demanded todo, pointing at an unfazed kamo who simply raised a brow and turned away, seemingly uninterested in participating in this game todo enjoyed so much. "HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

kamo stared at him again, deadpanned. "sorry, didn't notice."

"every single one of us have said our type except for you, man," andre johnson added, momentarily shirtless just to speak before pulling his head through his blue jersey. "just say it."

"i actually wanna know what your type is," said yuji, interested. "i can't imagine you with anyone, kamo."

majority of the guys in the room collectively voiced their agreement. megumi silently agreed too — kamo never showed interest in anything other than his hobbies, like football. the hum of the vent overhead was steady as the low, animated chatter continued, todo waiting for an answer impatiently by the whiteboard.

"loner."

kamo placed one foot on the bench, bending down to tie his laces together. "liked you better when you were mute, toge," he said, though not unkindly.

"he likes a tall girl with a big ass, okay?" logan parker intervened, sighing audibly. "he told me, all right?"

kamo turned to logan, his expression deadpan, unimpressed by the sudden revelation. the lack of humour in his gaze spoke volumes, making it painfully obvious to megumi that kamo had never confided in logan about such a preference.

his straightforward nature, megumi had decided, left no room for such casual gossip, and it was hard to believe that he would ever engage in a conversation about his personal preferences with someone as prone to exaggeration as logan.

"is that true?" todo demanded almost immediately after logan had added his false input.

kamo tied his hair back, looking uncaring and tired. "no."

todo clenched his fists.

"your type can't be that bad," he said, looking around before his eyes landed on megumi, who was now sitting on the bench beside yuta, staring at nothing in particular. "bet it's not like fushiguro's — which is BORING,by the way!"

megumi looked up at the mention of his name and scowled.

everyone had immediately come to his defence, telling todo to 'cut it out' and to 'leave him alone', but it still didn't remove the absent sting he felt on the side of his head when todo had made an attempt to attack him (and had also been very nearly successful in doing so).

during freshman year of high school, when the football team had been formed and established, everyone was made to introduce themselves to each other, which was where the drama had begun. long story short: todo had asked for megumi's type in women, megumi answered unsatisfactorily ('i don't have a preference, so long as she's compassionate and has an unshakeable character') which resulted in a traumatic experience of attempted murder — as yuji had called it.

"todo, get over it!"

"yeah, dude, you literally pressured him for it!"

"it just wasn't cool, dude..."

"man, you a weirdo!"

"HIS TYPE IS BORING!" todo roared, throwing the marker he had in his hand somewhere behind himself. "NO IT'S STARTING TO PISS ME OFF! NO IT'S STARTING TO— I SHOULD —"

he rolled his sleeves up threateningly.

megumi furrowed his brows at him as everyone scrambled to stop the team captain from making a decision that would get him suspended from the school entirely.

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH —"

"— TODO MAN —"

"— BRO CHILL —"

"— CALM DOWN —"

"stop, you're gonna make megumi sad!" yuji added fiercely, before extending an arm past both toge and yuta to grab his arm. todo had turned away, chest heaving and shoulders shaking as logan and chad patted his back as though trying to silence a wailing baby. "are you okay, megumi?"

the exaggerated, pouting look on yuji's face made megumi want to punch him.

"i'm fine," he grumbled, shrugging yuji's hand off of him, but yuji had remained persistent, forcefully gluing his palm on his front and deepening his look of pity. megumi glared down at his pesky hand.

"it's okay megumi," yuji sorrowfully informed him.

"i said i'm —"

"you don't have to be sad, megumi —"

megumi took his hand and twisted it; yuji yelped and snatched his hand back, frowning as he threw his grumpy friend a pained look.

"little harsh," yuta commented, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

megumi averted his gaze, half annoyed. "he deserved it."

when toge let out a small chuckle, megumi looked up at the scene before him, half-listening to todo's persistent questioning (he seemed to have got over megumi and his type), the chatter weaving through the room in an easy manner, almost as though megumi hadn't just been targeted for no apparent reason at all two seconds ago. his gaze drifted over to kamo, who, as usual, remained largely unfazed, his expression somewhere between calm and indifferent as todo's relentless interrogation continued.

watching them, megumi's mind wandered slightly — his teammates' voices ebbed and flowed, equal parts curiosity and exasperation filling the space. it was only towards the end of the conversation did megumi actually find something he believed he had mild interest in...

"what's it called when someone doesn't like anyone?" saidoliver, holding his helmet against his side, beneath his arm. "like, when a person just doesn't feel anything?"

"depression," megumi answered bluntly.

every head in the room turned to look at his, some were laughing and some looked unsurprised.

oliver furrowed his brows, disappointed. "dude."

"stop projecting, man."

"bro, you good?"

megumi ignored them, mentally cursing himself for participating in the stupid conversation to begin with. he silently reminded himself to never do so again. perhaps he would note it down somewhere when he got home.

"nah, i meant when like — y'know a guy or a girl — like when they've never liked someone. or had a crush," oliver continued, turning to kamo with a shrug. "maybe you're that. whatever the hell it's called."

"not good enough," todo shook his head, arms folded over his chest in another obvious attempt to look intimidating. "if all you PATHETIC excuses for men, EXCEPT MY BROTHER YUJI, won't give me a valid type right NOW —"

"i like someone," said kamo, pinching the bridge of his nose with an obvious scowl.

everyone froze, looking up at him as though the mere idea of kamo showing interest in anyone was foreign. megumi believed they all had a right to act shocked, not that it was any of their business to begin with.

because it wasn't.

and yet, even to him, it was surprising.

a few of the guys exchanged wide-eyed glances, eyebrows raised, and mouths slightly open, the disbelief clear in their expressions. even todo, typically unshakeable in his boldness, seemed momentarily thrown off balance, his stance faltering as he processed the unexpected confession. a hush seemed to settle over the group of boys, broken only by the quiet sound of kamo's gear as he slung it over his shoulder and moved towards the exit, leaving a wave of curiosity and shock in his wake.

"c'mon man, you can't just say something like that and then leave!" andre said, hurriedly collecting his own gear to follow the stoic boy out of the locker room.

"it's mai, isn't it?" said ethan miller, slamming his locker door shut and staring at the back of kamo's head.

yuji looked at megumi and then back up at ethan. "mai zenin?"

"there's only one mai in the entire school," said ethan, nodding. he called out to kamo again. "i saw you and her speaking like a week ago or somethin'."

kamo turned around, his back to the door as he furrowed his brows, seemingly offended by the accusation.

"no it's not —" he began, letting out a sigh of exhaustion before rolling his eyes. "it's not mai."

"give us SOMETHING, then, and i'll take it!" todo demanded, slamming his hand on the whiteboard with takada on it. uncoincidentally, it landed on her behind.

kamo considered the proposal for a moment, his eyes glancing over every face in the room, nearly all of whom seemed relieved at todo's statement, before he sighed again, muttering something under his breath.

"you know her pretty well," he said, glancing at yuji and then megumi. they barely had the time to register his response before he turned away, pulling open the door to leave. "and that's all you're getting out of me," he added calmly. "so don't bother trying for more."

he left without another word.

the entire room shifted their attention to megumi and yuji, eyes darting between the two as if expecting one of them to unravel kamo's cryptic hint. a few of the guys raised their eyebrows, curiosity and intrigue plastered across their faces. logan nudged chad with a knowing grin, while toge and yuta exchanged speculative glances.

megumi could feel their gazes like a weight, pressing him to acknowledge that he, along with yuji, might know the answer everyone was dying to hear.

he turned his head to face his friend: yuji simply blinked, apparently still wrapping his head around kamo's words. but megumi believed yuji had a better shot at guessing who the mystery girl was. yuji was, after all, a million times more social than him.

as the silence lingered, megumi found himself lost in thought, trying to recall any recent interaction that could hint at kamo's mystery interest. he sifted through memories, wondering if there had been any subtle clues he'd missed — any glances, moments, or lingering exchanges that might narrow it down. kamo's calm, almost detached nature made it hard to picture him in the throes of a crush, but megumi couldn't shake the curiosity that now gnawed at him.

he only knew two girls 'pretty well', and that was you and nobara, but he could not imagine either of you hanging off of kamo's arm. in fact, if anything, he imagined kamo hanging off of nobara's arm (which didn't make sense, seeing as that would be out of character of him). similarly, megumi couldn't imagine you willingly being held back by his arm, instead choosing to skip off into the distance which would surely annoy the serious, long-haired male.

but he was well aware of the fact that nobara and kamo had shared several classes together...

he could still feel everyone's gazes burning holes all over his face, and he scowled, unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of entertaining the idea too openly.

but it seemed that the team captain did not happen to agree with this sentiment.

"right, new task!" todo called out, clapping his hands to draw everyone's attention away from an unwilling megumi and a confused yuji to himself instead. he had already rubbed out the takada drawing and had begun the game planning. megumi had not realised it until now. "FIND KAMO'S GIRL! and this time next week, we'll gather 'round and narrow it down!"

as everyone nodded and cheered, some making their way out of the room while others lingered and chatted, he called out to both yuji and megumi.

"BROTHER!" he bellowed, pointing at him with the blue marker. "i'm leaving it to you and fushiguro!"

a pause.

"mainly you because i don't trust fushiguro!"

yuji and megumi had already stood up by that point, and megumi's scowl had deepened. it wasn't as though he cared enough to be part of this operation anyway. it was something he'd most likely think about alone, where no one could put in their unintelligent claims and disrupt his wise way of thinking. what did todo know about that anyway?

he looks like a pineapple, megumi thought to himself as he watched him demand both himelf and yuji to deal with the stupid task. and he's about as smart as one too.

"UNDERSTAND?"

"yeah!"

"sure," megumi answered, but he hadn't been paying attention at all.

todo had left the changing room, followed by majority of the team. yuji was the only one left in the room with him.

"i think it's nobara," he said, placing his helmet on his head. "she's extra mean to him 'cause he acts like he knows everything. she hates guys like that."

"that... contradicts your point," said megumi, furrowing his brows.

"no, don't you know that girls act really mean to the guys they like?" yuji chuckled, shaking his head at him as if megumi had very little knowledge. it made the dark-haired boy want to attack his friend. "hey... maybe that's why all the girls on the cheer team are so mean to me! yeah!"

megumi did not remind him of the time yuji had accidentally flashed the cheer team, and that from then on, every member, including the substitutes, would be extra harsh towards him.

"yeah," he said, putting his own helmet on and following yuji out of the room. "that's the reason."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

exiting the theatre classroom, you caught sight of megumi waiting on one of the benches outside, still dressed in his football uniform, his untamed hair still findings ways to stand up on its own despite the fact that it must have been forced down during practice. you almost laughed out loud at the broad shoulder pads and the snug navy-blue jersey that made him look slightly out of place in the hallway, but it was the way his helmet balanced awkwardly on his lap as he stared down at it, clearly impatient, that had you grinning.

you couldn't help but laugh, your voice echoing lightly off the walls as you made your way towards him, amused by how tense he looked even off the field. he looked up at the sound, his eyes narrowing in mild annoyance as he rose to meet you, a faint crease forming between his brows.

"you look angry," you commented teasingly.

"shut up," he muttered, scowling as he lifted the helmet and carefully placed it over your head. it wobbled slightly, oversized and unsteady, making you nearly lose your balance when he gave it a firm pat on top — a solid thump, just hard enough to send a warning, though not enough to hurt.

"it's so uncomfortable," you said, as the two of you made your way to the school gates to leave. "how the hell do you football players wear this for hours on end?"

"with breaks," he answered, and you had to physically move your head upwards to actually be able to see his face, for the lines going over and under the front gap limited the scope of your vision. "you get used to it."

you hummed in response, looking over your shoulder and around the area with curiosity.

"where's yuji?" you asked casually.

"ran for his bus," said megumi, as the two of you had gone past the gates and onto the main road leading to your neighbourhood. "said he didn't wanna take the late one 'cause then he'd have to sit for most of it with todo."

"should've made him late so he'd have to take the late one," you tutted, nearly walking into a lamppost — it was megumi's quick actions that had saved you, tugging you away by your elbow.

"the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded harshly. "your vision isn't completely gone with that on. you're not blind."

"it takes a while to get used to!" you protested, rubbing the top of his helmet as though it were your own scalp. "you said so yourself!"

megumi's expression hardened, his brow furrowing as he shot you a look that seemed to question every life choice that led you to nearly walking into a lamppost. he didn't need to say a word; the look alone was enough to convey his frustration, his mouth set in a thin line as he continued to stare at you with a sort of weary patience that he seemed to reserve just for moments like this.

"stop acting drunk," he ordered, walking a step behind you now. it was as if he assumed that watching over you would prevent your free will from prevailing over his demands.

at some point during the walk home, the conversation had shifted from the limited vision with the helmet, to gossip you had heard during stage practice, to toji and the unethical ways he kept a steady income, to what his teammates were saying in the locker room earlier, something you found yourself quite fascinated with.

"i'd hate to be you, not gonna lie... but what would you have done if todo did attack you?" you asked him, drumming your fingers on the helmet which you still hadn't taken off despite how uncomfortable it felt wearing it. you turned your head (fully) to look at your own reflection in a car mirror by the crosswalk.

you thought you looked ridiculous.

you didn't care.

megumi placed a hand on the centre of his helmet and forced your head to face the front again.

"this is how you end up walking into lampposts," he lectured with a scowl, before placing his hand in the pocket of his shorts and answering your question. "i would've defended myself."

"against todo?" you gaped, stupefied. "no offence, but he'd crush you. he's — like — your dad of our generation."

"don't ever say that again," megumi had been quick to counter, and though you couldn't see it, you knew he was glaring down at you. despite the thick material of the helmet you were wearing, you felt the heat of his gaze, like lasers burning holes where they landed.

he did not like that comparison at all.

you apologised. "sorry. you're the only copy of your dad there is —"

"watch it."

"am i just not allowed to say anything then?" you snapped, your arms flailing about dramatically.

"it's a preference," megumi began, the tone of his voice sly in a way you were very much familiar with and did not like at all, "but i know you won't do it."

you raised a pointer finger defensively. "megumi, if i could see you right now —"

"— it's not that hard —"

"— and if i was as tall as you," you continued as though he hadn't interrupted, "i would head-butt you so bad, you'd wish todo was the one dealing with you."

as the two of you stepped up to the crosswalk, megumi reached out and firmly took hold of your hand, steering you with a purposeful grip so you'd follow his lead across the road. his hold was steady, guiding, yet the pointed glare he cast downwards made it clear he wasn't thrilled with the direction the conversation had taken. even as he glanced from you to the road ahead, his gaze lingered, sharp with irritation, and each time he looked back, it was as if he had been silently reminding you of the absurdity of comparing him to todo — or worse, his dad.

his hand stayed firmly around yours until you were safely on the other side of the street. he let go, only to hit you on the helmet again.

"ow!"

"shut up, that didn't hurt."

you ignored him.

"what happened next?" you queried as you tugged on his jersey and pointed at buttercup brew where miss B was waving at the two of you from behind the glass, entry doors.

you waved back, making sure megumi had too — he was much less enthusiastic, but it was still enough to please miss B, who went back to working, leaving the two of you to continue the short walk home.

megumi answered idly. "kamo said he likes someone."

your eyes widened, and if it hadn't been for his outstretched arm once again, you would have tripped over your own foot.

"WHAT?"

"for fu— be careful —"

"noritoshi kamo?" you gasped, walking alongside megumi in visible and audible shock.

the best way to describe noritoshi kamo, you decided, was a guy who had no care in the world for anything: he lost a shoe? he'd buy a new one. you lost his homework sheet you'd been copying from? he'd quickly make a new one. he lost a football game? the next one would be better.

noritoshi kamo was no optimist, but he was definitely not someone capable of romantic feelings for anyone.

or so you had thought...

"everyone just started guessing who," megumi added, frowning.

"and did they guess right?" you pressed, intrigued. "who is it?"

your dark-haired friend shrugged, which resulted in your shoulders deflating, immediately disappointed before he'd even said anything.

"that's the thing," megumi said, unbothered. "he didn't say anything about it."

"well that was anti-climactic," you mumbled, turning a corner and seeing both your houses in the distance.

the walk was nearly over, so you lifted the helmet off your head, shook your hair away from your face, and held it beneath your arm. you appreciated just how large your field of vision was now. the helmet had been pesky, hot, and annoying.

"and i'm out of gossip," you sighed, allowing the summer breeze to flow past your face, the air feeling nice against your skin. "wish nobara was here. she always has something to talk about."

"he said something in the end though. when todo forced him."

you were surprised your head hadn't popped right off your neck with how fast you'd turned it to look up and lock eyes with him. megumi needed to work on how he told and relayed stories — this was by far the worst one he'd ever done.

"well?" you prompted, stressed that the walk was shortening the closer you got to your houses.

"yuji and i know her pretty well," said megumi at last, brows furrowed as you handed him his helmet. when you raised a brow at him, visibly confused, he scowled. "his words, not mine."

the thought lingered, growing heavier as you replayed kamo's words in your mind: someone yuji and megumi know pretty well...

your brows knitted together as you tried to piece it together, replaying moments you'd seen kamo interact with people you that were close with both yuji and megumi. the issue here was that megumi's anti-social nature narrowed it down to two people:

you or nobara.

you knew with certainty it couldn't be you. you had had a fair few conversations with the male, but nothing that you could pick apart and decide that he had any interest in you. it was mostly just random, fun situations, like the time you had accidentally triggered malakai and requested kamo to support your statement that it hadn't been you, only to blame it on him (kamo) in the end.

that should make him dislike you, if anything. at the time, however, he didn't seem to care.

could nobara be the girl he liked?

that was something you'd have to ask her, though you highly doubted it. you knew her quite well, and no guy had caught her interest. at least, not at jujutsu high, where she mainly criticised the male gender and grew new icks every day that went by.

for the fun of it, you still asked megumi whether it could be possible that someone could have a crush on you.

his reaction, however, had you visibly startled.

he averted his gaze, his shoulders stiffening as though unsure of how to respond. you waited, but his silence lingered, and his eyes seemed to dart briefly to the ground, almost as if he'd been caught off guard by your question.

your brows raised as you bit back a smile. it was rare to see him hesitate like this — normally, he'd offer some blunt response or scowl and move on, but now, an uncharacteristic awkwardness settled over him, and it looked almost as if he was bracing himself, unable to fully meet your gaze.

"no," he finally settled on saying, walking you to your door as he always would when going home together.

"you hesitated," you informed him knowingly.

"i was thinking of how long it'd take for you to scare them off," megumi shot back, ringing the doorbell for you.

you watched him walk off the porch, hearing footsteps echo from behind the front door as you hummed, nodding.

"nice save," you told him, relishing in his scowl, the last thing you saw on his face before your mom had opened the door and allowed you in, closing it behind you after telling megumi to come inside — he had refused like the delinquent porcupine he was.

and as megumi made his way over to his own porch, he realised that for the first time ever, he couldn't help the feeling of relief after ending a conversation with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the helicopter incident of 2016...

"what the fuck?"

megumi staggered away from the three of you —yourself, yuji, and nobara — craning his neck in a desperate attempt to peer over his shoulder at his own backside. bewildered, he muttered to himself, trying to comprehend why his so-called friends had just collectively ambushed him, each having touched his bottom once before guffawing loudly. what had you all done to him?

he made his way to the back door (but not before throwing the three of you a menacing glare) using the reflection of the glass as a mirror.

he was left horrified at the sight of three different handprints made out of neon paint colours (bright yellow, vibrant pink, and an intense lime) on the most compromising part of his pants:

his ass.

"shit — look at his face," you gasped, chest heaving at his expression. "take a picture with — catch it! — my phone."

you tossed your phone to nobara, who, unlike you and yuji, had the least amount of paint coating her delicate hands. meanwhile megumi's had shot to cover his behind as he whipped around, fixing the three of you with a glare so fierce, it might have turned a lesser person to stone.

flash! flash! flash!

nobara had captured his expressions, postures, and stances before he had a chance to compose himself into something less revealing.

as you took your phone out of nobara's hands, your attention had been drawn to a growing commotion behind you, distant shouts and laughter cutting through the playful chaos around megumi. you tossed a quick, amused glance back at nobara and yuji, both of whom were doubled over in laughter, still entirely focused on your collective attack on megumi, before aiming the lens on your phone not at your porcupine's flustered face, but at the source of the noise in the distance, recording just in time to capture a particularly raucous burst of laughter that had echoed around the backyard.

toji, towering and muscular, stood with his arms flat against his sides, looking both impatient and exasperated as satoru (in front of him) and suguru (behind him) launched paint-filled balloons at him. each balloon splattered bright colours across his chest, only to be rebuffed by his broad, muscular torso in what seemed like a defiant bounce.

splashes of paint exploded across his 'man-tits,' as satoru had so eloquently called them, left bright patches on his shirt as he glared at the two childish men surrounding him, chest heaving and fists clenched.

"shit!"satoru took several steps back, looking down at his own chest where the balloon he'd thrown at toji had bounced back at himself instead, splattering his white shirt with bright blue. he looked up at suguru, eyes wide behind his glasses. "that one came from his right titty —"

suguru laughed, throwing a paint balloon up in the air, catching it, and then launching it at the oddly-silent toji.

only for it to bounce back, just as expected. he had stepped aside just in time. "and that one came from his left breast —"

the veins running up toji's hands and arms grew more prominent as the two continued.

"HA!" satoru pointed at his chest. "toji? more like titty —"

suguru shook his head with a sigh. "satoru, don't be childish," he said, and his best friend actually paused, brows raised in surprise. that was before suguru had clarified: "he's big titty toji —"

SPLAT!

when satoru swung his arm around in a dramatic manner while laughing, he had accidentally released another paint ballon straight at the ticking time bomb that was toji fushiguro.

he only laughed harder at that.

"look guys!" he called out to the rest of you. you zoomed in on the scene — satoru's arms were outstretched, presenting toji as if he was some special, endangered animal, rare and one-of-a-kind. "it's toji titty-guro—"

without warning, toji's arms shot out, his hands seizing both satoru and suguru by the collars of their shirts with effortless strength. you couldn't see his face, so you were unsure of whether he had been grinning, or neutral, or angry, etc, but you watched in both horror and amusement as he began to spin, dragging them with him in a rapid, dizzying circle.

every other commotion around the backyard had stopped, everyone turning to look at the odd scene, equal parts confused and terrified.

toji's feet dug into the ground, kicking up small clouds of dust, while satoru and suguru both flailed helplessly at his sides, their limbs whipping outwards as if they were rag dolls caught in a whirlwind.

a whirlwind...

"it's a tornado!" you yelled, looking around and trying hard to keep your phone steady, but the scene was so funny, your hands were shaking with the effort.

toji's powerful grip and force turned their attempts to wriggle free into nothing more than frantic gestures, their faces a mix of shock and a hint of terror as they were spun around faster and faster...

you zoomed out to capture mamaguro at the back, watching the scene with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"are you gonna stop your... husband...?" you heard your mom question, sounding completely weirded out. and honestly — who could blame her?

what the hell was happening in the fushiguros' backyard?

"i... would," mamaguro muttered, carefully watching the scene continue to unfold before her, getting worse as time went on, "but... how?"

there was no opening for her to enter, you noticed. if she tried, she'd get caught up in the spinning andget severely injured too...

you couldn't believe what was happening before your eyes. you didn't know what was happening before your eyes. you didn't think you'd ever know what was happening before your eyes.

from your peripheral vision, you could see a stick of yellow just lingering awkwardly, and when you turned your head to glance at it, you nearly face palmed when you realised it was your father in his banana body-suit outfit. the only thing visible about him was the gap where his face rested. everything else, from his head, to his figure, to his shoulders, to his thighs, and to the majority of his legs, were all concealed by the thick material.

"that looks fun!" he commented brightly, a dopy smile over his face. he made an attempt to waddle over to the unnatural disaster. "i'm gonna join —"

"no, no," your mom was quick to hold him back by his banana-shaped body. she ushered him to the side, shaking her head violently. "no, honey, no. just... you're not going over there."

surprisingly, despite several minutes having gone by, the disaster was still going. in fact, everyone had believed it to be finished when toji had stopped (revealing the other dishevelled men stumbling over their own footsteps) only for the man to spin himself around only and charge at the duo again.

violently.

"round two!" you called out, startled. "round two or — or — er — round one point five since it never... it never finished, technically — oh my god —"

you focused your camera around the backyard, spotting mai climbing over the fence. her eyes met your phone, and she disappeared behind the wall without a second thought.

wise, you thought to yourself, wondering if mimiko and nanako had done the same, for despite several pans of the large area, your camera could not seem to find them.

a bellow erupted across the scene, stopping everything and everyone cold in their tracks. you turned, a jolt running down your spine at the sight of ogi and the sound of his voice thundering through the air — you fumbled to stop your recording in a panic, heart pounding.

a wave of silence blanketed the chaos.

toji froze mid-spin, his arms still outstretched, while satoru and suguru, dishevelled and breathless, stared up from the ground, shock and trauma wiping away their usual confidence. megumi, still clutching his rear, went pale, his expression stiffening as he shrank further into his hiding place. your dad, in his ridiculous banana costume, managed a sheepish, guilty smile, while mamaguro blinked, bewildered, glancing between her husband and the mess of people sprawled about. tsumiki giggled softly in the corner, the only one unfazed, her amusement uncontained. in the abrupt stillness, ogi's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel, as if daring anyone to make the next move.

"WHAT," he demanded, voice booming, "IS GOING ON HERE?"

there was only silence that followed his question as he slowly entered the backyard, paint and balloons all over the grass and fences, a mess.

"AN EVENT ORGANISED TO ENCOURAGE NORMALCY, AND THIS FAMILY CAN'T EVEN DO THAT!"

his eyes, cold and sharp, darted to megumi, whose back was flat against the fence.

"THE VERY PROGENY OF THE ZENIN CLAN — WITH RAINBOW HANDPRINTS ON HIS GODDAMN ASS!"

megumi's cheeks burned as he scowled. it didn't help that yuji and nobara were still holding back their laughter too.

"AND YOU!" ogi turned to a normal (now?) toji, looking him up and down with such disgust, you'd think he were staring at a homicide scene. it might have actually been one, to be fair. "I CANT EVEN SAY THAT YOU'RE PART OF MY BLOODLINE! WHAT WAS THIS, A RE-ENACTMENT OF KAMIKAZE?"

toji scoffed, throwing satoru a glare. "he was the pilot —"

satoru stood up almost immediately. "you were the helicopter —"

"SIT DOWN."

despite his obvious reluctance, satoru silently complied.

ogi took this as a sign to continue, glowering menacingly at the white-haired, dark-haired duo. now, literal partners in crime.

"WE GOT SPONGEBOB AND PATRICK OVER HERE, DOING GOD-KNOWS-WHAT. WHY IS YOUR HAIR A MESS AND WHY ARE YOUR GLASSES BROKEN?"

satoru reached up to take his glasses off, hanging in an odd, desperate position over the bridge of his nose, a pout on his face at the sight of the irreparable damage.

he glared at toji from over his shoulder. "HEY —"

"OI LEAVE HIM ALONE!" ogi was quick to add, irate. "IF YOU HADN'T BOTHERED HIM, MAYBE HE WOULDN'T HAVE MADE AN ATTEMPT TO ELIMINATE THE TWO OF YOU FROM EXISTENCE!"

he rubbed his hands over his wrinkled face, before starting at the two men again.

"NO, I'LL TELL YOU WHY THE BOTH OF YOU LOOK LIKE THIS, IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE BEHAVING LIKE MONKEYS — I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT GETO!" he added harshly, for suguru had an oddly deep hatred for the animal and whichever family it comes from, and had seemed particularly offended with ogi's comment. "I MEAN LOOK AT THE STATE OF YOU! YOU LOOK LIKE MAI'S FIRST GRADE ART PROJECT THAT I THREW IN THE TRASH —"

maki, who had been lingering at the back with your mom stepped forward despite your mom's silent actions not to.

"you threw that away?" she questioned, eyes narrowed behind her round, clear glasses. "she spent years attacking me for it —"

ogi's hardened expression had faltered slightly, a look of pain crossing his features. you were certain it was more about getting caught than the actual issue at hand.

"yeah, yeah, it was you that threw it," he mindlessly replied, before his jaw had clenched harder than before. "SPEAKING OF, WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR SISTER?"

maki sniffed, irritated. "i don't —"

"this has that luke kid written all over it," ogi interrupted, uncaring of maki. "GREAT! SO I'VE GOT A RUNAWAY BRIDE, AND TWEEDLE DEE AND TWEEDLE DUM ARE MISSING. PROBABLY AT THE ZOO ACTING LIKE THEIR FATHER — SHUT IT GETO."

he swivelled on the spot, his long hair whipping behind himself as his eyes zeroed in on your father, still in that banana costume of his.

"AND YOU — GET RID OF THAT RIDICULOUS COSTUME! THEY MIGHT WANNA EAT YOU NEXT — TRYNA JOIN THE HELICOPTER WITH HIS IDIOCY!"

your father frowned, but still made an attempt at trying to unzip himself. his arms, however, were much too short to go around the costume and reach the zipper.

"well it's kinda..." he murmured, bending his knees for a better angle, "stuck... i need some... help... here... honey?"

your mom turned away, drinking her lemonade with raised brows. "who's honey?"

uncle ogi had had enough. "G-GET BACK HERE AND TAKE HIS STUPID COSTUME OFF OF HIM!"

your mom turned back around, but her eyes were darting over the place as though ogi was speaking to anyone but her.

"IT'S YOUR CARELESS BEHAVIOUR THAT'S MADE HIM BELIEVE IT'S OKAY TO WEAR STUFF LIKE THAT. I'M GETTING A HEATSTROKE JUST LOOKING AT HIM!"

she glanced at her husband, watching him fall backwards due to his failed attempt at bending his knees to reach his own zipper.

she muttered under her breath: "you'd think that men would have a mind of their own..."

"YOU'RE NOT OFF THE HOOK EITHER TSUMIKI, I EXPECTED MORE FROM YOU. LAUGHING — ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOUR?" he started, typically unusual, for tsumiki was never the one in trouble. today was full of surprises. he raised an accusatory pointer finger at her. "YOU WANNA BE A MOTHER SOMEDAY? YOU BETTER HOPE THEY DON'T TURN OUT LIKE THESE IDIOTS."

his eyes darted over you all in one massive circle, his mouth in a straight line.

"THIS FAMILY'S A DISGRACE TO THE ZENIN NAME —"

"not even a zenin," satoru grumbled to himself.

"yeah, neither am i," suguru agreed, blowing his bangs away from his face.

"i'm literally a l/n," you mumbled to yourself.

toji dusted himself off. "my son's not a zenin."

"THE POINT IS... YOU'VE SUMMONED THE WHOLE OF BIKINI BOTTOM TO RECORD US!" uncle ogi roared, pointing at the neighbours peeking over the fences with their phones at hand. you couldn't bring it in yourself to blame them. if you had seen the same scene happen elsewhere, you would have recorded it too.

you had recorded it, not that uncle ogi needed to know that...

"WHY ARE WE LETTING PEASANTS MAKE A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF US?" he demanded loudly. he aggressively turned to mr smith, a white, bald man from just down the block. "OI YOU, GET RID OF THAT CAMERA BEFORE I GIVE YOU A REASON TO TAKE ME TO COURT!"

he turned to mamaguro, eyes widening at the sight of her.

"i nearly forgot about you..." he began, before taking everyone by surprise by the sheer volume of his voice, as though he hadn't been speaking that way for the past five minutes. "YOU WERE THE BRAINS BEHIND THIS ALL. WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT THIS FAMILY COULD DO ANY EVENT WITHIN THE REALM OF HOW NORMAL OR MESSY IT SHOULD BE? THAT THEY WOULDN'T PUT THEIR STUPID TOES OUT OF LINE? THAT THEY'D BE SENSIBLE —"

"now hang on a minute," said mamaguro, her kind voice shaky, "this is not my fault! my colleague recommended a —"

"WHAT DOES YOUR COLLEAGUE KNOW ABOUT THIS FAMILY?" ogi snapped harshly. "NO BETTER THAN YOU, CLEARLY!"

he let out a deep exhale, but the tension in his temple and shoulders remained as he slowly turned around to face you. you were stunned in place, unmoving, unsmiling, unsure of what to do with yourself, in fact.

you only carefully made sure the camera was out of his sight, hidden in your back pocket where he'd have no clue that you had been recording earlier.

"AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE-TIME, THIS ONE WASN'T INVOLVED IN ANY OF IT!"

you nodded proudly, mimicking his words silently behind him, pointing at satoru, pointing at suguru, even pointing at your mom.

"DIDNT EVEN START IT!" he continued loudly.

for this one, you specifically made sure to mouth the words to megumi, who you could tell, just from his cruel facial expressions, wanted nothing more than to out you right then and there, but for the first time ever, it was your word against his, and with the way things were going, you were bound to win, no difficulty.

"THIS WILL GO DOWN IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, I TELL YOU! how SHE became the role-model for you dimwits."

"role model," you mouthed, pointing at everyone. "for you, for you, and especially," you made sure to swivel your finger in a circle this time, "you."

toji gritted his teeth at you, but said nothing. you grinned confidently.

uncle ogi turned away again, eyes closed shut as he sighed audibly, a vein on his forehead threatening to burst. it only popped up again when he found yuji and nobara staring back at him.

"AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?"

"damn... you'd think he'd know our names by now," yuji commented, rubbing his neck with shame.

"right," nodded nobara, shaking her head. "so rude."

"friends of yours?" uncle ogi turned to you, speaking in that gruff tone he usually had. but it was significantly different to the way he had been speaking to the rest of the family today. you mentally giggled to yourself as you nodded. "fine."

he glared down at satoru and suguru, eyes twitching at the mess of pain all over their white shirts, brows furrowing at the mess maid of their hairs, and lips pursing at the broken glasses satoru was still clinging onto.

"you two..." he began, voice rough and firm. "go to shoko, just go."

satoru sat up defiantly. "i don't need —"

"NOW."

satoru and suguru did their walk of shame out of the backyard.

everyone had done theirs at some point.

everyone, you noted with a pleasant smile, except for you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: the scariest event for halloween imo, is the helicopter incident. the zenin-fushiguro-gojo-l/n-geto family would agree. wbu guys???

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

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@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @momoewn @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @laughingfcx @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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orellazalonia · 2 months ago

Text

DIY Project

Summary: You and your competitive boyfriends attempt to build a bookshelf one day. You have to refrain from laughing as they keep trying to one-up each other. (Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes)

Word Count: 800+

Main Masterlist

It started innocently enough, just a quick trip to the hardware store to pick up supplies for a simple project: a new bookshelf for your shared space. What you didn’t expect was for Steve and Bucky to turn this into something resembling a full-on competition once you all returned home.

“You sure you know how to use this?” Bucky smirked, eyeing the power drill Steve was holding. His arms were crossed, looking very much like someone who'd been working on DIY projects for decades, despite his years spent in ice rather than carpentry.

Steve just shot him a reassuring smile, looking impossibly calm with the tool in hand. “I’ve read the manual, Buck. It’s just like… using the shield, only smaller.”

“Yeah, but less likely to save your life when you mess up,” Bucky teased, clearly trying to get under Steve’s skin, but Steve was unphased.

You chuckled, setting down the lumber on the floor and carefully unrolling the instructions. “I think we all know who’s gonna win this one,” You said, looking at them both with a grin. “Just make sure the bookshelf doesn’t end up as a pile of firewood.”

“Oh, please,” Steve raised an eyebrow, stepping forward. “It’ll be perfect.”

Bucky scoffed, already picking up a hammer with one hand and measuring tape with the other. “I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way. Real men use hammers.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The two of them were like kids with toys, bickering over who was the more competent handyman. The tools were all scattered around, and they hadn’t even started properly, but the energy was high as both men tried to one-up each other.

After a few minutes of half-joking, half-serious banter, you were the one who had to step in, offering your assistance.

"Alright, alright, let’s just… let’s follow the instructions." You pulled the instructions closer and gave them both a look. "Bucky, you hold the boards steady, Steve, you drill. No more arguments, okay?"

For a moment, both men looked at you, and it was clear neither one was about to back down without their own little victory. But they both nodded, maybe out of sheer respect for your calm demeanor.

The project itself wasn’t complicated, but it became a comedy of errors. Every few minutes, Bucky would make a comment, something along the lines of “You’re doing it wrong,” only to have Steve correct him with a smile. Meanwhile, Bucky’s measurements were hilariously off, leading to the boards not quite lining up as they should.

You found yourself stepping in a lot, guiding them back on track and trying not to laugh too much at their competitive antics. Every time you made a suggestion, Bucky would give Steve a side-eye, pretending to begrudgingly take your advice, while Steve was acting like the calm, collected team leader he was.

But when it finally came to assembling the shelves, the moment of truth, you realized they were working in sync. Their chemistry, despite the teasing and arguing, made the job easier. The bookshelf, while a little crooked at a few spots, was still functional, and after all the joking and laughter, it was a perfect testament to the teamwork they didn't even realize they had.

When it was finally done, you stood back, admiring the result. “Not bad, guys,” You complimented with a playful grin. “I think it’s perfect.”

Steve wiped his hands on his jeans and gave you a proud smile. “Told you. I knew we could do it.”

Bucky, though, just leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a look of mock indifference. “Yeah, yeah. But it was definitely my expertise that pulled it all together.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you gave them both a playful nudge. “I don’t know, I think I’m the one who made it all happen.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance and a brief smirk before Steve stepped forward, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re right. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Bucky nodded, tapping you on the nose. “Guess you’re the real MVP.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest as the three of you stood back and admired your handiwork. Even though it was just a bookshelf, the day had turned into a reminder that the best moments were often the simplest and the most fun.

“Next time,” Bucky said, breaking the silence, “We’re building a chair. I’m picking the materials.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, smirking as he looked over. “You know what? I’ll be in charge of the instructions for that one.”

“Oh, no,” You groaned with mock horror. “Not again. Please.”

The sound of their laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but think that, despite the chaos, today had been perfect.

#stucky x reader #stucky fic #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #marvel fic #fluff

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dulcecherub · 3 months ago

Text

Igual Que Un Angel

Chapter Eleven

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

Author’s note: please ignore my lame attempt at understanding how courts and judges work. Just bear with me. I’m so sorry for the long wait and this being a short chapter regardless. I was so stuck on that first scene I created. Just in case, it might rub someone the wrong way. Viewers discretion is advised.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

“Wheezie deserves a stable home. Her father—my husband—would have preferred it this way.” Rose argues, “I’m sorry I don’t trust either one of them to raise a teenage girl.”

Rafe scoffs, his eyes narrowing as his eyes land on Rose. Rose eyes don’t even move away from the judges. A firm line slashed across her lips.

He knew that was far from true. His dad would never had wanted this. Rose was a manipulative and conniving person. Maybe it was hypocritical of him. No it was hypocritical of him. But he always hated her. Always hated how he treated him and his siblings. His eyes train on her before flicking back to Sofia. Who looks at Rose with neutrality. He never specified to her what Rose had done to make him hate her. But this was evidence enough of why. She seek to keep Wheezie away for whatever dumbass reason, she could come up with.

“Like you raised us so well.” Sarah bites back. Mr. Hastings gives Sarah a look, she presses her lips into a line. She sits back on her seat. She doesn’t turn to look at anyone. John B hand shoots out to hold hers.

“We promise our goal matches yours. We want Wheezie to live in a stable and healthy environment.” He says, Roses lawyer Mr. Smith just scoffs.

“With a runaway and a violent drug addict.”

“Objection, how is this relevant? Both are of age and have a stable home in Kildare. Plus Mr. Cameron has been clean for over three years.”

“That does not mean he won’t ever relapse.” Mr. Smith comments. Sarah mouth opens in shock but she immediately closes it when John B grabs her hand to stop her from speaking.

Rafe shakes his leg, his jaw moving around. Sofia placing a hand on his arm. She leans herself on his arm. His muscles relax but he’s still agitated. They were all right, his drug addiction and past was the angle they were trying to use to make Sarah and him seem unfit.

“Overruled, those are concerns we are looking into. Please Mr. Smith refrain from any side comments.” The judge says, Sofias hand clasps onto Rafe. Their fingers interlocking, but his leg is still shaking. His jaw tight, he loosens up a bit. But Sofia can see that comment got to him.

“We will be taking a short recess.”

“Just breathe Rafe. Rafe, you need to breathe.” Sofia says, “You knew that’s their angle. They want to make you and Sarah seem unfit.” She sat on one of the wooden benches as Rafe paced back and forth. The air felt almost stale in here, too serious for her liking.

Rafe was trying to control his breathing, he kept squeezing his eyes closed. Sofia approached him carefully. “Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m here, baby just breathe.”

“It’s all bullshit, Sofia. I promise, I promise you, I haven’t even touched it. I haven’t even looked at any of that stuff.” He grimaces, running a hand in his hair. “I-I”

“Just breathe, okay. Look at me Rafe.” Her hands cup his face, Rafe buries his head into one of them. His breath shaky.

“Please, tell me everything is going to be okay? Please tell me we’re going to get Wheezie back.” His voice breaks, Sofia heart clenches.

“I can’t promise you anything. But hopefully the judge can see that you’re attempting to have her in your life. Maybe they’ll grant you guys joint custody.”

Rafe let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I hope you’re right Sof.” She kisses his forehead tenderly.

“Come on, let’s go grab something to eat. Yeah?” He nods, his eyes staring into hers. She can still see the anger behind his eyes. The food now being a momentarily distraction. Anger festers and she knew it was still brewing inside of him.

“Yeah, you’re eating for two. You’re going to need a lot of fuel.” His arm circles around her shoulders, but not before, his eyes land on her stomach.

Lupita walked into Rafe’s house, hesitatingly. Her eyes looking around with awe. Sofia smiled as she saw her cousin approaching. She was cutting up some fruit, her hands moving a bit slower than usual.

“Wow.” Lupita mouths, Sofia smiles.

“I know.” She mouths back. Lupita strolls over to Sofia, wrapping an arm around her.

“Te extrañé.” (I missed you!)

“Lupe, you saw me three days ago.” Sofia laughs, her hand on her cousins arm. Lupita tsks.

“Three days feels like an eternity.”

Rafe is on the couch, his laptop propped on his lap. He’s too focused on whatever he’s working on to break eye contact to greet Lupita.

“Hey Rafe, working hard?” Lupita teases, he finally breaks his eyes free from his laptop.

“Oh hi Lupita. Sorry, I’m kind… of busy.” He looks back at the laptop screen, Sofia eyes stay on him for a while until it returns to Lupita.

“No te preocupes. I understand, you got stressful business stuff to attend to. That’s why I dropped out of busi—”

Sofia eyes widen, she immediately stops what she’s doing. “You did what?! Tu mama te va a matar.”

Lupita glares at Sofia, “Hey! Don’t use my own words against me.” —Sofia giggles, Rafe scrunches his nose as he stares at them both.He seems confused but turns back around to his laptop.—“I’m just not sure business is meant for me.”

“That’s totally okay, but I mean, do you really want to leave school?” Sofia asks, cutting up the last fruit.

“I’m not leaving school. I dropped out of all my business classes.” Lupita did not meet Sofias eye. Almost as if she was waiting to be shamed or scolded.

“So, what’re you majoring in now?” Sofia says, softly, almost egging her cousin on to tell her.

“Art.” She mumbles, Sofia eyebrows scrunch up. “What was that?”

“I think she said art.” Rafe says, his eyes not leaving his laptop screen.

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Then go for it.” Sofia says, dropping the last chopped fruit into her bowl. “I know it’s scary. But if it’s what you want to do. You shouldn’t stop yourself from it. Especially if you feel… drawn to it.” Her eyes land on Rafe before returning back to Lupita. Who’s wearing a smirk.

“Anyway, I just came to say that I’m leaving in a few days. So I wanted to see you a few times before I left.”

“How nice of you.” Sofia says, a laugh escaping her lips.

“I’ll be back in two months once the baby is born. Don’t you two worry.” Rafe looks back at Lupita.

Lupita goes to hug Sofia. “I hope she can hear me. I hope she knows she’s so loved.” As if on clue, the baby kicks. Sofia lets out a gasp.

“I think she heard you.” She places a hand on her belly. “My little baby.”

Rafe looks at Sofia, his eyes softening. She’s sung to the baby in front of him before. He’d walked into their room, to hear her either singing and or talking to the baby in both English and Spanish.

He couldn’t help the smile that etched onto his face. Sofia eyes land on him a smile on her face, as her cousin coos at their baby.

Rafe stood next to Sarah as they waited for the verdict. Rose eyes landed on them, her face neutral. Not the face she’s had for the last five days. And seven months. Wheezie looked between her brother and sister. Her eyes filled with a longing, Rafe understood.

Rafe’s phone began to ring, he grabbed for it. “Mr. Cameron please silence your phone. We are about to begin.” Mr. Hastings says, Sarah looks over to him. Her brows furrowed. Rafe turns off his phone. His eyes landing back on his phone briefly.

“Lupita! He’s not answering me!” Sofia groans, the phone going straight to voice mail once more. Her forehead sheened with sweat. Her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes scrunched close with pain.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Lupita scrambled into the bathroom, her eyes on the water surrounding Sofias legs. “Aren’t you almost eight months. Why is your water breaking now!”

“Gee, I wonder why! Lupita stop asking me stupid questions!” Sofia let out another groan, she attempted to breath in and out. Doing the breath work she was told would work. But she felt so unprepared, this was not how she imagined this to go. The pain was immense.

Lupita doesn’t answer, just heads back to rummage more things into the light pink duffel bag. “Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”

Sarah held her breath as she watched the judge, Rafe looked towards him as well. His heart pounding.

“For the custody case for Wheezie Cameron, we hereby declare that both parties have joint custody. Until the child is 18 years old. Then she can make her own decisions.” The judge says, his eyes scanned everyone in the room.

Rafe eyes pricked with tears, after so long. After so much time of never seeing his little sister. He and Sarah were finally getting the chance.

Wheezie eyes landed back onto to them. Her tearful eyes, her small smile.

Sofia let out a cry of pain, tears spilling from her eyes like a faucet. She gripped her seat, her eyes barely concentrating on anything around her.

“Don’t worry Sofia, we’re almost there.” Lupita voice shook, her eyes on the road, almost going above the speed limit. Her hands shook as she held onto the steering wheel.

“He hasn’t answered!” Contractions were rolling out from her in waves. Her hand held onto the seat as if it were the only thing that grounded her. “Lupita!”

“I’m almost there!” Lupita voice shook and Sofia couldn’t help but feel like an ass.

“Fuck!”

Wheezie sat across from Rafe and Sarah in the diner booth. Her eyes still shone like tearful stars.

“I missed you guys.” She says tearfully, Rose stood further away from them. Her eyes anywhere but at them. She was still speaking to her lawyer.

“We’ve missed you so much.” Sarah approaches her, pulling Wheezie into a hug. “We thought we weren’t ever going to see you again.” Wheezie and Sarah take a moment to stare at each other. Rafe had always seen them as a unit, the two always working together to irk him. But now… he’s just glad he has them both.

Wheezie eyes land on Rafe, her brows furrowing not going unnoticed to him. “Didn’t realize you’ve become such a softie now Rafe.”

Rafe just smirked, “My little sister needed rescuing.” Wheezie grins, letting Sarah go and running to hug him too. He’s surprised. His hands awkwardly to his sides until he begins to hug her back too.

Wheezie looks up at him, “I’m happy to see you.” Rafe feels his heart clenched, he’d always had a soft spot for her. That was his little sister. He would do anything to protect her.

“Thank you for vouching for me, on the stand. It uh meant—a lot—”

Wheezie chuckles this time. “Rafe says thank you now?” Wheezie turns to look at Sarah, her eyes still teary eyed.

“He does…” Sarah voice shakes. “I uh can’t wait to introduce you to little JJ. We call him little Jay.” Wheezie eyes shine with recognition. Then her features become somber.

“I’m sorry Sarah.” Wheezie says softly, everyone at this point knew what happened to JJ. Not the real details but they knew he was dead. Some gossiped he ran away before he could get charged for all the crimes he committed. That everyone was just covering for him. That theory became hard to believe once they knew Rafe Cameron had said he was really gone. Now it was believed JJ had died for reasons they would never understand. Some believed he truly lived to his Maybank ways and got murdered.

The Pogues, Rafe, and Shoupe were the only ones who knew the truth.

“Let’s just…”

“Wheezie!” Rose’s voice broke through their little bubble. They all turned to look at her, Wheezie lips turned into a straight line.

“I’m coming!” She says, a little bite in her voice. “I’ll see you guys on Tuesday.”

Lupita bite her thumb, her leg shaking as she continued to contact Rafe, to no avail. She looked back up, the waiting room filled with either sick people and people waiting to be seen for an injury. Another pregnant woman sat on the bench, her eyes downcast.

Lupita felt her anxiety reaching newer heights. She continued to bite the skin on her thumb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Sofia wasn’t supposed to give birth so early.

“Please answer.” She says anxiously.

#rafe x sofia #sofia outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe and sofia #sofia x rafe #rafia #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #sofia obx

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scary-grace · 5 months ago

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Expiation (Chapter 5) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter 5

You never knew, but should have guessed, that the High Kingdom’s march to war will not include everyone in it. Half the army will stay to guard the kingdom itself, as well as half the king’s council, while the king and the other half lead the army in pursuit of Warlord Kai. There appears to be no rhyme or reason to which of the councilors leave and which stay, except in one particular case: Sir Tomura’s. No one trusts Sir Tomura to guard the kingdom, and the White Death will be much needed on the battlefield – cursed wound, cursed weapons, and all.

Wound, weapons, and armor. You promised Mei you’d recommend her to Sir Tomura when it became time to repair his breastplate, but he’s so recalcitrant about having it repaired at all that you finally just threaten to take it to Mei yourself. Sir Tomura glares at you with his arms crossed over his chest, parked firmly between you and the armor stand. “If you think I’m going to let you steal my armor, you’ve lost your mind.”

“As you’ve lost yours, if you think I’ll send my Lord into battle unprotected,” you retort. You’ve grown more comfortable disagreeing with Sir Tomura when necessary, and while you refrain from commenting on his stubbornness most of the time, you won’t back down where his physical safety is concerned. “You are already vulnerable there. If you leave your breastplate unmended, it will tell your opponents exactly where to strike.”

“I doubt anyone will be able to break through my guard, and even if they could, my death would please the world more than my life,” Sir Tomura says. That crooked, mocking smile you’ve grown to hate crosses his face again. “My redemption, such as it is, can be found only in death. My life does not matter to them.”

“It matters to me,” you say, and Sir Tomura’s terrible smile fades. “And to others as well.”

The old king is particularly concerned with Sir Tomura, and Hakamada has taken some odd degree of interest. The herald, too, spends some portion of most days pestering Sir Tomura to tell the tale of how he defeated the Enemy – something he would not do if he was as terrified as the rest. King Izuku is uncomfortable with Sir Tomura’s presence, to be sure, but he cares that Sir Tomura is treated fairly. On the servants’ side, there’s you and Mei, and no one else. Mei’s concern is for his armor. Yours is for him.

Today, your concern and Mei’s overlap completely, and you suspected Sir Tomura would refuse outright – so you called for backup ahead of time. Before Sir Tomura can argue with you any further, Mei gives a perfunctory knock on the door and strides in as though she owns the place. Sir Tomura looks surprised. “Who are you?”

“Mei, the greatest blacksmith in the land.” No one has ever chastised Mei for her humility. “No damage is too great for me to repair. I’ll have that breastplate fixed better than new.”

“Is that so?” Sir Tomura gives you a look. You cringe. “Your services are not needed. It cannot be repaired, and even if it could –”

“That’s just foolish,” Mei says. She walks fearlessly up to Sir Tomura, who towers over her, and crowds him until he shifts aside, his incredulity growing with every passing second. “A cursed weapon caused this damage?”

“Aye.”

Mei inspects the armor for a moment. “Two days.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’ll be done in two days.” Mei is already lifting the breastplate from the armor stand. Sir Tomura looks as though he wants to prevent her, but has no idea how – it reminds you of watching Sir Ejirou try to rescue a hissing, spitting tomcat stuck in a tree. “The suit will be done in five. It needs fixing, too.”

“And what else do you suggest I fix,” Sir Tomura says, painfully sarcastic. “Do you intend to re-forge my horse?”

“It needs new shoes,” Mei says. Sarcasm doesn’t work on Mei. Few things do. “Anything else?”

“No.”

Mei crooks her thumb at you. “How about for her?”

You don’t need armor. You aren’t fighting. You aren’t even going – are you? You look at Sir Tomura, who’s gone from glaring at you to pointedly avoiding your gaze. “My Lord?”

“Chainmail,” Sir Tomura says to Mei, who nods. “The lightest you can manage, and whatever else that’s lightweight. How fast can that be done?”

“Five days,” Mei says again. “I’ll work on nothing else.”

You don’t think that’s a good idea – you know the smiths are assigned quotas of arrowheads and ax-blades – but it’s not your place to comment. What is your place to comment on is Sir Tomura, and the fact that he’s very obviously concealing something from you. Before you can say a word, Mei seizes your arm and hauls you into service. “Help me carry this,” she says, already lifting the armor stand. “Many thanks for your patronage. You won’t be disappointed.”

You get one last glimpse of Sir Tomura before Mei’s rapid pace forces you to speed up, lest you drop your side of the armor stand. His voice follows you out the door. “I regret this already.”

So do you, if you’re being honest. You’ve never made a situation less stressful by adding Mei to it, and the question of just why you need chainmail is occupying all your thoughts. In her corner of the smithy, Mei makes you help her pry the armor off the armor stand, and once it’s off, she throws all of it into a vat full of a filmy grey solution that looks like nothing so much as dishwater. “What is that?”

“It cleanses the armor, and neutralizes any residual magic,” Mei announces. You stare in horror. “What? I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t think Sir Tomura wants his spells stripped from his armor.”

“His armor’s got no spells left. All of them went into blocking that strike,” Mei says. “I could tell when I touched it. Only shreds remain, and those must be removed before I can add new spells. Most magicians don’t know how to do it themselves. That’s probably why he thinks it can’t be repaired.”

You’re used to taking Sir Tomura’s word as truth on matters of magic, and it’s true that he’s often right – but Mei knows her craft, and you trust her with it. She sticks both hands in the vat, arranging the armor so all of it soaks evenly, then turns to you. “Are you going to give me your measurements, or do I have to take them myself?”

You give them, only for Mei to come and take them anyway. It exasperates you. “Why bother asking, then?”

“Some noble ladies lie about their measurements,” Mei says as she wraps a knotted string around your waist. “It’s not wise to lie about your chest when you’re being fitted for armor.”

Your face heats up. “I don’t care about that. And I’m not a noble lady.”

“You speak to the White Death like one.”

“So do you,” you protest.

“That’s how I speak to everyone,” Mei says. You suppose that’s true. When it comes to matters of arms and armor, Mei offers no varnishing of her opinions to anyone, noble or otherwise. “You would never speak to another knight or noble the way you speak to the White Death.”

“Because he ordered me to,” you say. Mei raises an eyebrow. “Sir Tomura ordered me to speak to him as I would speak to an equal.”

“Nobles order you to do things all the time.” Mei yanks the knotted string tight enough around your chest to make you gasp. “That doesn’t mean you do them all.”

Nobles and knights give nonsensical orders not infrequently – if they’re drunk, if they’re showing off, if they’re in an expansive frame of mind. They also give inappropriate orders, ones you feel no shame at all about refusing, and ones you warn the other servants about so they know what might be coming their way. Sir Tomura’s orders are neither nonsensical nor inappropriate, at least not to you. It hasn’t struck you as strange at all to follow them.

And following them isn’t incompatible with arguing with him, you don’t think. After all, he never told you not to.

Mei finishes measuring you, then evicts you from her corner of the smithy, and you try to remember the rest of your tasks for the day. The army will depart within the fortnight, and you’ve already confirmed that Sir Tomura will receive the same makeshift accommodations as any other knight on the campaign – a tent of his own, a cot, and a squire to serve him on the battlefield and off. But Sir Tomura’s chosen no squire, nor has anyone sought him out. You know he prefers to do things himself, that he did so before, that he and his comrades kept no servants. Still, the idea of sending him off with no assistance alarms you. Perhaps if you find someone for him –

“No,” Neito says, when you corner him in the stables as he’s grooming Aizawa’s horse. “Absolutely not.”

“No other Lord is expected to fight alone,” you say. “Sir Tomura –”

“Is the White Death, and he managed to humiliate Sir Katsuki without drawing his own sword. He does not need me.”

“He needs a squire,” you insist. “If you would but speak with him, you might find him more agreeable.”

“He does not need me,” Neito repeats. He gives you a sidelong, measured look. “He’ll have you.”

That’s the second time today someone’s alluded to your presence on the campaign. You’re beginning to think you’ve missed something. “You are mistaken. I’m not supposed to –”

“Be here? Yes.” Sir Tomura’s voice rings out from behind you, and you jump. Neito takes two steps back in shock and trips over a bucket. “There is an errand you must accompany me on, today. Your ambush with the blacksmith merely delayed it.”

“Yes, my Lord.” You help Neito to his feet, then hurry after Sir Tomura, rethinking your strategy. Perhaps Neito isn’t the right choice for Sir Tomura’s squire. You still have a fortnight to find someone.

To your surprise, Sir Tomura leads you out of Castle Ultra, down the hill toward the pastures where the knights’ and nobles’ horses spend their days. Perhaps he wants to visit his horse. You wait for him to explain the purpose of the errand, and why it requires your presence, but he remains silent long enough that you ask. “My Lord? Where are we going?”

“You must learn to ride.”

“I know how to ride,” you say.

“On what? A plough-horse still attached to the plough?” Sir Tomura says it without scorn, but you feel the sting regardless. “You must learn to ride properly if you hope to keep up.”

To keep up with what? You look up at Sir Tomura and find him once again ignoring your gaze. “My Lord – I’m not to accompany you on the campaign, am I?”

“If it were my choice, you would stay behind.” Sir Tomura picks up the pace, and you do the same, nearly stumbling on the uneven ground. “But the council is displeased with the quality of the evidence provided by their spies. Once again, they turn to those with firsthand knowledge of the borderlands, and in practice –”

“Me.” Your stomach drops fast enough to make you nauseous. “My Lord –”

“The order came from King Izuku,” Sir Tomura says. A sneer twists his mouth. “Such a good king, to endanger those who cannot fight in order to spare those who do.”

Of course you want the soldiers of the High Kingdom to be as prepared as possible for the battles they will face. Of course you owe everything to the High Kingdom for taking you in. The knowledge that this is the price you must pay for it sits firmly within you, and yet you still feel sick. “When did you plan to tell me, my Lord?”

“I assumed you knew.”

“Forgive my naïveté.” Your eyes are stinging.

“No,” Sir Tomura says sharply. “I misspoke. I hoped you knew, because I did not want to be the one to tell you. If I waited long enough, the King would have been forced to do it himself, and that damned look on your face would be his fault instead of mine.”

You must look terrible. “If my expression offends you –”

“Be silent,” Sir Tomura snaps, and you subside. “I will teach you what you need to know, beginning with this. If you wish to keep up with an army, you must learn to ride like a soldier.”

The keeper of the pastures must be expecting Sir Tomura; when the two of you arrive, he’s waiting for you with a pile of tack and a wooden practice horse. Koji speaks very little, and he stands by while Sir Tomura tersely instructs you on the proper way to saddle a horse. Once you’re able to repeat the instructions back to him, you move on to practicing on the wooden horse, and when you’ve saddled it five times without a mistake, Koji brings over a set of steps. You’ve seen knights and ladies climb them before to mount their horses.

“No,” Sir Tomura says. “Do you think we have such luxuries on a military campaign? You’ll learn from standing, as I did. Watch.”

You watch as Sir Tomura grasps the pommel of the saddle, plants one foot in the stirrup, and vaults himself into place astride the wooden horse. He makes it look easy, even if you see him grimace as the motion strains the fragile skin covering his cursed wound. He’s still grimacing as he leans down to adjust the stirrups to the proper lengths. “You secured the saddle and girth properly. If you fail to do so and attempt to mount, you’ll fall off the other side, and I cannot promise that I will not laugh at you.”

“It would be hard to resist, and I wouldn’t mind,” you say. Sir Tomura gives you an odd look. “Not when you laugh so rarely as it is.”

Sir Tomura dismounts from the other side of the wooden horse, then comes around to yours. “Show me what you observed.”

You’re so concerned about the prospect of failing to make it to the saddle that you overexert yourself, and nearly launch yourself all the way over. Sir Tomura steadies you. “Dismount from this side and try again,” he instructs. Dismounting is harder. You stumble, and he steadies you once again, interrupting you when you try to mumble an apology. “Apologizing will teach you nothing. Try again.”

You practice mounting and dismounting the wooden horse until your arms and legs are sore. Sir Tomura instructs you to remove the tack from the wooden horse and turns to Koji. “Take her to the paddock. I’ll return with Nomu.”

Nomu must be his horse. You’ve never heard him speak its name. Koji ushers you along the edge of the pastures towards a training paddock, one which contains seven or eight horses of various colors. You look to Koji, puzzled, and after a long moment, he speaks. “You will choose from these.”

“From whichever among them can stomach Nomu.” Sir Tomura’s horse moves with such silence that you didn’t notice his approach until his shadow fell across you. “Nomu’s presence, like mine, is difficult to bear.”

When you look up at Nomu, you understand. He’s pale as death, pale as Sir Tomura’s armor and his hair and the blade of his sword, and his body is laced with scars that show through his thin coat. His eyes have neither lashes nor irises nor lids; rather, they stare endlessly out, devoid of life or interest. Sir Tomura stares that way, sometimes. The only life you can see in Nomu is in the twitching of his ears, this way and that.

The rumors say that Sir Tomura feeds Nomu a diet of blood and flesh, but you smell no such thing on the horse’s breath. Seeing Nomu makes your skin crawl, and makes you sorry, all in the same moment. Sir Tomura looks down at you from his back. “Frightened?”

“No, my Lord.”

“You’ll need a horse to match your temperament, then.” Sir Tomura touches Nomu’s reins and steers him in a circle, addressing Koji as he does. “Instruct the horses within to hold. Then open the gate, and stand aside.”

Koji complies, looking as though there is nothing he’d rather do less. You step aside as well. The horses within the paddock continue to mill about, registering the open gate without running for it. At least not at first. When Sir Tomura and Nomu jump the fence into the paddock from the far side, the horses panic as one. Two jump the fence of their own accord, while the rest rattle about, colliding with the railings and each other in an effort to escape. Nomu has done nothing; Sir Tomura has him in hand. But the horses react as though each and every one of them is in mortal danger.

Koji puts his hand to his mouth and whistles sharply. Three of the remaining horses break immediately towards the sound and the open gate, and when the others realize that an escape is available, they pile through it in a single, seething mass. You can’t imagine how Koji plans to contain them, but at his word, they flee into an adjacent paddock. Within the original one, only two horses remain. There’s Nomu, standing still, staring at nothing. And on the far side of the paddock, a mud-grey horse crops lazily at the grass.

Sir Tomura taps his heels against Nomu’s sides and guides him closer. Still, the grey horse fails to stir. Koji comes back, red-faced and out of breath, and Sir Tomura addresses him without looking his way. “Is something wrong with this one?”

“She has always had an even temper.” Koji’s voice is barely a whisper. “It’s a good quality in a mare.”

“Then why hasn’t she been chosen as some lady’s mount?” Sir Tomura nudges Nomu closer still, and the grey horse looks up. It studies Nomu for a moment, then goes back to its meal. “It seems she would suit a magician who rides to war.”

“Most prefer a flashier mount,” Koji stammers. “She is plain.”

Sir Tomura swings down from Nomu’s back and leads Nomu closer by the reins, so close that Sir Tomura can lay a hand on the grey horse’s neck. She lifts her head at that, looks towards him. They make an odd trio there, the man and mount too monstrous to tolerate and the mare too plain to be chosen. After a long moment, Sir Tomura lifts his hand away. “She will serve,” he says, and beckons to you. “Bring the saddle.”

You’re anxious from the first, but the grey mare lives up to Koji’s description. She shows a little mischief when you attempt to tighten the girth, but you know what to look for, and you wait until she’s exhaled to tighten it. Then you haul yourself up into the saddle, on tired arms and with tired legs. Now you and Sir Tomura are seated side by side. Sir Tomura guides Nomu out of the corral with the lightest touch on the reins, and there’s nothing for you to do but mimic and follow him.

The two of you ride in silence for some time, Nomu placid under Sir Tomura’s control, the grey mare jittery under yours. “Loosen your hold on the reins,” Sir Tomura instructs. “She’s responding to your fear, not her own.”

You relax your fingers with an effort, and as Sir Tomura said, the grey mare settles down. “We’ll ride together each day until the campaign begins. You’ll be familiar with the concept, if nothing else.”

You’ve never heard of a knight training a servant to ride. There are other servants for that. “My Lord, I do not want to claim more than my share of your time. If someone else could –”

“Why?”

Your insides twist with discomfort. “It’s not right for a noble to teach a commoner.”

“Yes, because you are beneath me.” Sir Tomura’s voice drips with derision. “Many soldiers, noble and common, have died at my hands. Believe me when I tell you that they all bleed the same color. There is no difference between us but what you pretend there to be.”

You have no idea how to respond. “I will grant that the High Kingdom is less rigid in its hierarchy than others,” Sir Tomura continues. “In some kingdoms, one must be of noble birth to be knighted, or to serve on the King’s council. Here, it seems deeds matter as much as blood – but those who commit great deeds see themselves as worthier than those who do not. There is not a kingdom in this world where that is untrue.”

“I have heard that you visited many kingdoms,” you say. Sir Tomura nods without looking your way. “Why?”

“I was granted the power to destroy that which displeased me. I was displeased by a great many things.” Sir Tomura ducks his head to avoid a low-hanging branch, then straightens up. “Others shared my ideals but lacked my strength, yet made up for my weaknesses in strengths of their own.”

You’ve never heard him reference his old comrades before. You remain silent, hoping he’ll say more. “We visited many kingdoms in search of one where my comrades could live as they wished to. Where we met opposition, we destroyed it, and so was born the story of the White Death, bringer of ruin and symbol of fear.”

“Is that all?” The words fly from your mouth unbidden, and Sir Tomura looks at you at last. “You did not wish to conquer the world?”

“And do what? Shape it in my own image?” Sir Tomura shakes his head. “You cannot model a world on an empty vessel.”

You’ve heard Sir Tomura call himself many things before. His many enemy-given epithets, his own mocking titles; on rare occasions, even his own name has left his scarred lips. You’ve heard him call himself a monster, a villain, an abomination. But in all the months you’ve served him, he’s never described himself that way before.

And yet it suits. You thought on the day you met him that he looked lost, that whatever had driven him to carve a bloody path across the known world had left him for good. You remember noticing the emptiness of his gaze. An empty vessel. A vessel for what?

Sir Tomura looks away from you. He shifts in his saddle, grimacing, and grimacing worse as he ducks again to avoid another branch. You wonder if he regrets what he told you. Certainly he does not wish to say more on the subject. “When we ride to war, you will be in danger,” he says. “The same amount of danger as the rest of us will be as we travel through enemy territory. I can do nothing about that.”

“Of course, my Lord.” You see him grimace again, and you wonder if your words are so hateful to him – but then you see one hand leave the reins, twitch towards his chest. “I do not expect you to.”

“Good, because it is impossible.” Sir Tomura looks ahead. “I can, however, ensure that no additional danger comes to you.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. He gives you a frustrated look, as though you should know already. It’s not often that he’s angry with you for asking a question. “Forgive me.”

“It’s the warlord you fear. He will not lay a hand on you, and I will allow no plan to be made that places you within his reach.” Sir Tomura taps his heels against Nomu’s sides, and the horse shifts into a trot. You do the same, or try to, and all your effort shifts from trying to catch up to trying to avoid biting your tongue in half. “I protect my comrades when it’s in my power to do so. Killing an upstart alchemist is well within my abilities.”

You try to imagine that, imagine Sir Tomura drawing his sword to protect you. In the decade and more since you last saw Warlord Kai, he’s loomed large in your imagination, towering over Sir Tomura, who’s always looked more mortal than monster to you. Could Sir Tomura defeat him? You pull the grey mare to a stop. You can’t speak while trotting, and you must speak. “My Lord, I don’t want you to risk your life.”

“Because my life matters to you.” Sir Tomura guides Nomu into a half-turn to face you, and you nod. “As your life matters to me.”

You can only stare at him. You don’t know whether knights and nobles commonly express concern for the welfare of their servants, but whether they do or not, it’s the last thing you would ever expect Sir Tomura to say. You can’t imagine such words leaving the White Death’s mouth. But even when Sir Tomura was the White Death and nothing more, he had comrades, friends. Someone told you that they once heard him laugh. Sir Tomura’s comrades are gone, slain in the same battle he expected to die in. He is alone in Castle Ultra, alone in the High Kingdom — save you. You’re a poor replacement for his comrades. You can’t fight, you can barely ride, you’ve no powerful magic, and you cower in fear from the memory of a man upon whom the full force of the High Kingdom’s might is about to fall. You aren’t a person worthy of Sir Tomura’s care. You simply hold the distinction of being the only one he has.

You don’t realize you’re staring until Sir Tomura snaps at you. “If you have some ridiculous response to that statement, spit it out. We still have much to do.”

The response that leaves your mouth is perhaps the wrong one. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Sir Tomura stares at you for a moment. “Don’t thank me,” he says, and turns Nomu away, nudging him back into a trot. You can barely hear what he says next. “You started it.”

Did you? You couldn’t say for sure. You tap your heels against the grey mare’s sides and hang on for dear life as she lurches into a trot, leaving any further thought about the conversation you and Sir Tomura just had in the dust behind you.

<- Chapter 4 Chapter 6 ->

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #x reader #reader insert #fantasy au #man door hand hook car door

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deliciousbasementtrash · 2 years ago

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Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Batman Wayne Family Adventures on Webtoon. Artist Inker Starbite

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. Jason patches you up.

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, angst, mention of a gunshot

Word Count: 1.3k (sorry it's a bit shorter today)

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Masterlist

Part Six: The Patch Up

Tentatively, I gave Jason my burned hands. They dwarfed in comparison to his. I watched Jason’s face as he assessed me. His dark brows were pinched with concentration; his jaw was clenched tight. I noticed his forehead was spackled with sweat, and his cheeks looked flushed. Concern flashed in my mind, as I closed my eyes and did my own assessment of him.

My power fell over me like a blanket, covering me with the essence of Jason. I searched around trying to find the cause of his disheveled state. There, flashing bright, was a gunshot wound to his stomach. My eyes flew open.

“Jason, why the hell did you not say anything? You have a fucking gunshot wound!” I yelled at him, as I slowly healed him. I saw spots float in the edges of my vision and felt bile rise in my throat. Quickly, I blinked and swallowed trying to regain composure. After healing Tim, Dick, and Bruce using my power felt more like drudging through mud rather than gliding on ice.

I felt Jason’s grip on my wrist tighten, “Don’t you dare try to heal me. I don’t want it.” Contraindicating his harsh tone, he lightly cleaned my hands and began wrapping them meticulously.

“What do you mean you don’t want it? You need it.” Anger flashed inside me. His tone might have been harsh, but mine was final. There was no arguing with me. Not over this.

Jason must have felt the signifying cue of pins and needles, “Dammit, y/n! I said I don’t want it! Not when you’re like this!”

Annoyance, sharp and hot stabbed through me, “Jason, I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse before, and I deal with worse in the future. But you need to have that healed.” The argument was futile. I was done healing him by the time the words left my mouth.

I felt Jason tense when he realized what I had done. His eyes burned with anger. I tried my best to keep eye contact with him. Not wanting to back down. But my body betrayed me and began to sway.

Jason’s hands steadied me and I heard him swear under his breath, “Dick get me a protein bar.” Once again it was a demand.

“Were you raised in a barn? Saying fucking please, dickwad,” I said, unsteadily.

Jason held up the protein bar, “I don’t want another word out of you. Eat it.”

Out of spite, I kept my mouth shut tight.

“You either eat this willingly or I shove it down your throat,” Jason practically growled.

Succumbing to my body’s needs I ate the damn protein bar. Despite not wanting to follow Jason’s commands I needed food, water, and sleep. When I finished the protein bar I held the empty wrapper up for him to see. “There are you happy?”

“Not in the slightest,” he grumbled.

I barely refrained from rolling my eyes, slowly I got up. “Well while you are sulking in the corner I am going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Try not to pass out on your way up there,” Jason yelled behind me. I was already in the elevator.

“Try not to get shot again,” I shuck my tongue out just before the doors closed. I could have sworn I saw Jason smirk at that.

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

That night I could barely sleep. I tossed and turned, my mind racing. Just as I was finally drifting off to sleep a scream cut through the air. In a matter of seconds, I threw my blankets off and ran out of my room. I looked frantically around trying to determine where the scream came from. A few whimpers sounded and I realized it came from the room neighboring my own. Without a second thought, I opened the door.

The room was dark save for one lamp that remained on, giving the room a slight glow. The room was clean with miscellaneous books and knives scattered about. Toward the back of the room, pressed up against two walls, as if hiding, was a bed. A bed with a man thrashing around like a fish out of water. He was gasping for air, and crying out.

“Please, stop! Please! Please!” Jason cried and begged. Something inside me cracked, as I ran forward.

I knew I probably shouldn’t have abruptly woken him up, but I couldn’t stand the fear and heartbreak in his voice.

“Jason,” I said gently, but loud enough to wake him up. He thrashed more. “Jason, wake up, please,” I begged him.

It wasn’t working, slowly I put my hand on his shoulder, and as if I struck him with lightning he abruptly shot up in bed. His hands wrapped around my throat. Instantly, I couldn’t breathe. His grip was a steal that I could not break.

“Jason!” I croaked out. His eyes were unseeing, somewhere far away. “Jason!” I tried again. Not wanting to hurt him, but needing him to get off I started lightly slapping his face. I saw him blink and shake his head as if clearing cobwebs. I saw the moment he realized it was me. He released me instantly and pushed himself to the far edge of his bed. Putting the most distance between us as he could.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” He yelled at me, his eyes crazed as he looked at my neck.

“I’m sorry! I heard screaming. I just wanted to help–”

A dark bitter laugh escaped him, “Of course, you just wanted to help. That’s how you justify everything, isn’t it? Get the fuck out of my room.” I got whiplash from the words leaving his lips. They paralyzed me for a moment. “I said get out!” Jason yelled.

Waking me from my trance I ran out of the room. My heart pounding. Tears threatened to spill. I couldn’t get his words out of my head.

Of course, you just wanted to help. That’s how you justify everything.

Have I become manipulative like my father? Using my righteousness as a shield thinking I’m better than him? When all along I was just the same. A cruel person using others to make myself feel better. Was that the root of my motivation? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

As if the universe heard my thoughts, a text popped up on my phone from a number I did not have saved.

[Have lunch with me today. Your mother’s favorite spot. 12:30. Don’t be late.]

A cold bitter laugh left me. Today was going to be a fucking shit show.

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

Jason ran a hand through his hair, over and over. Ever since he came back he had the same dream every night. Every night he relived the Joker beating him. Every night he felt the pain of coming back to life. Maybe that’s why it is so hard to forgive Bruce. To Bruce it’s linear, something that happened in the past. To Jason, it happened in the past but is also happening right now.

Jason was used to the nightmares. The whole house was. At first they all came and comforted him. But each time Jason snapped. He said something that cut too deep. And eventually, the people stopped coming to comfort him. It was a blessing and a curse. Jason wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad they stopped coming. He didn’t want to hurt them, but he didn’t want to be scared and alone. But he never thought… he never thought that she would try and comfort him.

Jason’s heart raced as he clutched his head in his hands. He had strangled her. What if he hadn’t woken up? What if he broke her neck? She needs to stay away from him. She is too good. Too pure of heart. If she was around him; his black decaying heart would make her own start to rot. He couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t hurt her again.

No. Jason would have to push y/n away. That was the only answer.

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno@killxz@morpheus-girl@redhood414@bungunz@conicoroahre@greenyofthegreens@taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo

Let me know what you guys think <3

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odinsblog · 4 months ago

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L👀k who sold out migrants & asylum seekers just to save his own sorry ass

The Department of Justice has directed federal prosecutors to drop corruption charges against Mayor Eric Adams, handing him a political lifeline as he seeks reelection.

News of the directive comes on the same day the Democratic mayor ordered his senior officials to refrain from criticizing President Donald Trump, whom Adams has courted since his reelection, according to the outlet . The Justice Department directed the Manhattan U.S. Attorney’s office to drop the charges “without prejudice,” according to a copy of a letter from the acting deputy U.S. attorney general by multiple outlets.

“The Justice Department has reached this conclusion without assessing the strength of the evidence or the legal theories on which the case is based,” the letter reads, deferring to federal prosecutors. The letter notes that the case should be reviewed after the November 2025 mayoral election.

As the news broke, Adams was dining at a restaurant with John Catsimatidis, the Republican billionaire. In a shared on social media by a Fox News reporter, the mayor said his team had been notified of the possibility that the charges would be dropped.

“I’m going to reach out to my attorney,” Adams said, adding that he did not want to offer a reaction before learning more. “As I’m sitting here, calls are coming through,” he added.

Both Trump and Adams have claimed they were wrongly prosecuted by the Department of Justice under the Biden administration. Adams’ lawyer is Alex Spiro, who has represented billionaire Trump adviser Elon Musk.

“As I said from the outset, the mayor is innocent—and he would prevail. Today he has,” Spiro said in a statement on Monday. “The Department of Justice has reevaluated this case and determined it should not go forward. There is good reason for that. The facts of the case are clear: the mayor never used his official position for personal benefit. Nor did he have any role in violating campaign finance laws.”

Spiro continued, “Despite a lot of fanfare and sensational claims, ultimately there was no evidence presented that he broke any laws, ever. The witnesses that were promised never materialized. The additional charges that were threatened never came. Now, thankfully, the mayor and New York can put this unfortunate and misguided prosecution behind them.”

Federal prosecutors in the Southern District of New York did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Prosecutors accused Adams in September of accepting travel perks from people affiliated with the Turkish government. In exchange, they argued, Adams used his influence to expedite the opening of a new Turkish consulate on the East Side, overruling fire inspectors who had found safety violations.

Prosecutors also accused Adams of accepting straw donations to mask illegal foreign donations to his 2021 campaign.

“These are bright red lines and we allege that the mayor crossed them again and again for years,” said Damian Williams, who was the U.S. attorney for the Southern District at the time.

(source)

#politics #eric adams #sellouts #conservadems #yet another example of how vote blue no matter who can fuck us all over #vbnmw

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belphiegore · 7 months ago

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Here are just my overall thoughts about the MHA epilogue and the fandom response.

We don’t know if the leaks are real, they probably are, but until it’s confirmed we keep it open. AI can be crazy these days.

I’m upset about my ship yes, but not in the way people would think. I’m fully aware, most BkDk shippers are fully aware, that the ship wasn’t going to be canon, it never was. Shipping is a way to have fun, to look at the story through a different lens. Queer interpretations of literature and anime is not a new development. The reason I’m a little upset is because I know the IzuOcha moment will make ‘those’ people feel comfortable to be toxic towards fans who enjoyed same sex ships in anime, especially BkDk enjoyers. To be quite frank, most of the people doing the bragging aren’t what I’d call “true shippers” just people who hate same sex ships and are happy to see even the smallest inkling of confirmation of a straight ship so that they can rub it in the faces of others. Because let’s be honest, the IzuOcha moment was nothing more than that, just a small intimate moment that can imply romance just like all the other moments between them in the anime and manga so far. It’s nothing big like a kiss, so it’s not like the two were even confirmed to be together at all. Fans of the ship still had plenty to go off on and imagine them together afterwards, and fans of other ships have enough experience to just keep on shipping. Canon doesn’t matter, it’s just about doing what you want. Overall, it’s not an issue. At this point in time I do think that Horikoshi would’ve been smarter to completely refrain from any romantic moments in the end, as the bigger a popular fandoms is, it’s more likely to (sadly) contain people who get way too into shipping discourse, and begin displaying toxic behaviors. Now everybody keep in mind, shipping isn’t the problem. Shipping is fine. It’s fine for fans to feel upset about their ships, it’s a normal part of fandom culture. The problem comes when toxic behavior begins to become prevalent: doxxing, threats, bullying, offensive/bigoted language, harassment, mass reporting, and such are not acceptable. Long comment threads arguing with someone online for an hour or longer is just straight up annoying, I’m sure we can all agree. However I’m sure the discourse will die down, and the toxic behavior will stop. We just have to wait and abstain from disrespectful behavior.

Now about Izuku’s rejection of Katsuki. First, I’ve seen people saying Bakugo wanted Izuku to be his sidekick, which isn’t likely. While Bakugo is rejecting interns and sidekicks, I see it as him waiting for Izuku and trying to leave room for him in his agency. He doesn’t want Izuku as a sidekick he wants to be a duo. He doesn’t want to fill his agency with sidekicks and just call it a day, he wants someone to stand side by side with him and constantly challenge him and support him to be better.

I think with this ending Horikoshi is conveying that while Izuku is going to be a hero again, and is still friends with Katsuki and will still support and compete with him, he doesn’t want Katsuki to be “tied down”? (I don’t know how to explain it) When Izuku turns down Bakugo’s offer, Izuku ISN’T saying “no, I don’t value you or what you did for me”. He’s saying, “I’m thankful for what you did, I love and care about you but I don’t want you to be dependent on me. I have to make my own choices separate from you and put myself first.” Which is a good message. A great one. However I think it’s should have been made a little…clearer? So far the scene has Bakugo seemingly be left behind (again) saying “when everyone is special to you… no one is really special”. As if he feels abandoned. This seems like it’s against how their relationship has been defined throughout the story. It’s not about the ship, it never was about the ship for me. It’s about the relationship and development between two characters that I became so invested in.

One of the biggest things I enjoyed about MHA is these two characters. I enjoyed Deku’s ‘favoritism’ towards Bakugo, it’s a flaw, but an interesting one, and one that isn’t detrimental to his character as it can also be seen as a beneficial trait. Everyone has a person who holds a special weight, someone that they prioritize over others. This can be a bad thing and a good thing. I think this aspect of Bakugo and Deku’s relationship with each other is what drew so many to be so invested in their characters. I’ve always described the two of them as being soulmates in every sense of the word. Intrinsically tied together, despite the odds and despite their feelings. One cannot be without the other. Some might agree this is detrimental in a relationship, and I would say in real life it could be, but for two characters who’s writing and developments evolve in tandem with each other, it just makes sense to me. For them to be forever tied together. It’s good that Deku potentially doesn’t want them to become “just rivals” however to me, it was presented in a way that makes it pretty easy for people, to see it as out of left field with Deku straight up ‘rejecting’ Bakugo, when for the whole series one of his greatest wishes is to be at Katsuki’s side. I think the conclusion, that “no one is really special” is something that just hurts as a BkDk lover, and to me, seemingly goes against the development of their relationship.

Thankfully it seems that Katsuki says “See you”, not letting himself be left behind. He’s hurt and sad about Izuku’s rejection, but he’s still going to be close with him, he’ll still be Izuku’s friend and biggest supporter, he’s just not chasing after him. I suppose it’s implying that instead of chasing after one another, they’ll stand side by side. Not together as one, but together as individuals. Again, I wish it was a little clearer, as it gives this sense of openness that doesn’t really fit this story as an ending. I thought Chapter 430 was probably the better note to end off on, as it gives you that bittersweet feeling but ends on a final overwhelmingly positive note. The dream is realized, friends support friends, everything is final and conclusive. Nothing open that can be twisted negatively. But that’s just my personal opinion.

All in all, I’m not sure how to feel. It hurts a bit, it feels bittersweet. Because you worry. You know the two of them are so close, practically bound together, but you worry that they’ll grow apart, that their relationship will never be what was imagined. I don’t truly know the meaning of the scene, these are just my thoughts. Until Horikoshi confirms the leaks, we won’t definitely know his intentions for the scene and the ending. All I know is that I feel a little sad in my worry that these fictional characters I’m so ridiculously hung up on won’t be together anymore. And that’s okay. It’s okay for people to be so invested. It’s part of what keeps a fandom alive. Everyone just needs to keep in mind to be nice to each other. We went through such a nice period of calm when we thought ch 430 was the last chapter, please let this die down and we can return to that calm. We can all analyze, theorize, make fanart, create fix-it’s and rewrites once this is all over.

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therealcocoshady · 1 year ago

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Recovery - Chapter 20

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Y/N gets back home from the hospital and Em comes for a sleepover.

Tags : Fluff - SMUT (P in V, foreplay)

Y/N’s POV

The whole incident had brought you and Marshall a lot closer than you already were. You took it to heart, when he said he was missing you, when you were talking in the studio that fateful night before you were assaulted. You had been so focused on your relationship with Josh, so eager to get Marshall out of your head (or rather, your heart), that you had probably neglected your friendship a little bit. Still, he had been absolutely amazing to you while you were in the hospital, basically acting like your personal guard-dog, pillow, assistant and dream catcher. It got to a point where it was annoying for other people. Josh didn’t complain about it, he never would, but he did make a few comments about Marshall “always being around”. Talia and Jamal even joked about Marshall moving in, because he would never leave you alone. You could tell that Talia was a bit pissed off. You knew she loved him, but she also wanted to care for you. So when you got out of the hospital, they were basically bickering at each other, fighting over who would get “custody” of you. Marshall offered for you to stay at his place and hang out, while Talia seemed to strongly disagree.

You’ve been with her nonstop for five days, Em, you’re not her only friend, you know ? She said as she rolled her eyes.

I know. I’m just saying she can chill at the house if she wants, he shrugged.

We have a house too, she said. She can chill there.

Or maybe she wants to enjoy the movie room or the pool, he replied.

Or maybe she wants her room, Talia insisted.

Or maybe she wants y’all to stop fighting like divorced parents ? Jamal chimed in.

You couldn’t help but giggle. You had been cleared by the doctor and were ready to leave the hospital. You’d been ready for about an hour and couldn’t wait to get out of that dreadful place but they wouldn’t stop arguing over small details, like who would drive you home. You didn’t tell them, but on top of that, you had Josh blowing up your phone, asking when he would actually get to see you. You were actually touched by all of this attention : not everyone had this many people they could count on. As annoying as it could get - because you just wanted to leave - it was a blessing.

We could just leave them here and grab food somewhere, you suggested to Jamal.

I like that, he said as he grabbed your bag.

I want to eat too, Talia said.

Me too, Marshall added.

Look who’s suddenly on the same page, Jamal grinned. So, what do you want to eat ?

Of course, that was enough for the bickering to start again. You offered to cook dinner, but obviously, none of your friends would let you lift a finger, even though you had basically spent five days sleeping and were more energized than ever. Thankfully, everyone ended up agreeing on the food, and you managed to display some excellent diplomatic skills when it came to organizing your schedule. You sent Marshall home after dinner so that he could actually get some rest and a full night of sleep and had a movie night with your roommates. As for Josh, you made plans to see him in a few days. Initially, you wanted to invite him to dinner on the night you got home, but your friends made a valid point that it would be wiser to wait for a few days, so that your first night home would be more chill. After the movie, you and Talia went to your room to do some pampering and she could not refrain from grilling you about “Em”.

So… First night without cerberus in a while, huh ? She playfully asked.

I guess, you giggled. He wasn’t that bad, though.

Oh he definitely was, she chuckled. You should have seen him when you were asleep. He was standing there like some sort of bouncer, making sure not too many people were in the room. And then, when it got too loud, he turned into a cranky old librarian like “Shhhhh”.

She imitated him, with his serious demeanor and frown. You couldn’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter.

It’s sweet, you said softly - you couldn’t help defending him.

He’s too much, she said. I swear, he is the most dramatic person I have ever met.

It’s part of the charm, I guess, you shrugged.

Oh, really… “Charm” ? She grinned. I thought we already had a prince charming…

You know what I mean, you said with a frown.

Actually, I don’t, she said. I mean, you’re wearing his clothes all the time, he spent five days in the hospital with you, you guys are always hanging out… I’m telling you : I wouldn’t enjoy being your boyfriend if I had to deal with Em being all over you.

I know, you sighed.

Especially when you enjoy it so much, she added.

You looked at her but said nothing. Had anyone else made that comment, you would have lied, but it was Talia, so there was no use.

I knew it !!! She almost screamed.

Yeah well, you can know it but not shout it, ok ? You said.

You like Em !!!

I do, you groaned. But believe me, it’s not fun.

Oh, boo-hoo, “my crush is all over me and it’s hard”, she giggled. Yeah, must suck to be you, Y/N. Especially when the crush in question is the wet dream of millions of people across the world. Remind me again, why are you bothering with Josh ?

You ended up explaining the whole story to her : how you had a chance with Marshall, that was ruined by the argument, how you had planned on confessing your feelings for him in NYC but didn’t because he ended up dating Nicole and how you ended up dating Josh.

Here’s the thing, you said : I love Marshall, but he doesn’t love me back. And I like Josh too, you know ? Like, actually like him. I want to give this relationship a chance, because he is so great.

I feel you, she said in a voice full of compassion. You deserve to be happy. Em is a fucking dumbass in my opinion…

He’s not. He doesn’t like me like this, it’s ok. He’s still my best friend.

Yeah, but I don’t understand, though. For someone who doesn’t like you like this, he is all over you. That doesn’t make sense, you know ? She said. Anyway, if Josh makes you happy, that’s what matters, right ?

He’s just nice, you replied. And Josh does make me happy. I can’t wait for you to meet him.

I can’t wait either, she said. But he’s no Em.

Promise me you’ll still be nice to him ?

Of course, she said.

A MONTH LATER

You had finally introduced Josh to Talia and Jamal and they seemed to like him. The four of you would go on double dates, even some triple dates with Hailie and Evan. You had lots of fun and it felt really nice to have your closest friends supporting your relationship. Talia’s birthday was coming up in a few days and she even invited him. Josh was being as amazing as ever, and you wished you could say everything was perfect but it wasn’t. You’d been together for more than three months at this point and you still hadn’t been able to seal the deal. You’d had plenty of opportunity and slept together a bunch of times but that was all it was : sleeping. Not that you didn’t want to do the deed, on the contrary, you were both up for it, but the attack had left its mark, so every time he tried to do more than kiss you or hold your hand, you ended up being triggered. He said he was fine with it but, obviously, you could tell he was a bit disappointed. At that point, you were a triggered, yet horny mess, which put you in quite a mood. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to have sex ever again. Thankfully, you also spent a lot of time with your friends, which helped you get your mind off things. You were either hanging out with Jamal and/or Talia, at the studio or with Marshall.

That night was your first night sleeping alone in a month. Ever since you got home, you were prone to nightmares. The doctors at the hospital had offered to give you some medication for anxiety and even some sleeping pills, but given your past, you refused to pick up the prescription. You’d been sober for a while now, which was great, but you still didn’t trust yourself. So your friends, being as amazing as they were, took turns having sleepovers in your room. The most frequent guests were either Talia or Josh, but sometimes, Marshall would come over too. It was the middle of the night and you were waking up from yet another nightmare and, normally, you would have someone by your side, but you had decided to try sleeping alone for the first time, since Talia and Jamal had a romantic weekend getaway planned and were spending a night in a hotel, and you weren’t too sure about wanting Josh coming over. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy his company or that he wouldn’t happily cuddle with you, but you felt like he might get his hopes up about finally having sex and you didn’t want to let him down yet again. You tried to pace yourself by using some breathing exercises, but to no avail. It was as if you could feel the attacker’s breath down your neck. Plus, it was a windy night and every noise from the outside was startling you. So much for putting on your big girl’s pants. You decided to call Marshall.

Hey honey, you heard his sleepy voice say. What’s up ?

Am I bothering you ? You asked in a little voice.

Never, he said softly. What’s up ?

I’m scared, you said on the verge of tears. I’m alone in the house and I feel like… He’s watching me or something.

Oh. Isn’t Josh sleeping over ? He asked.

Not tonight…, you said sheepishly.

Want me to come over ?

Do you mind ? You asked.

You know I don’t, he said. Movie night ?

Sure.

Great. Be there in 30, ok ?

When he arrived, he gave you the biggest hug and you put on some random, crappy movie. You were both laying on your bed, watching the movie on your computer. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder and was mindlessly playing with your hair. His presence was soothing, and his hilarious comments were keeping you distracted. At some point, a steamy sex scene came on, and it made you feel a bit awkward. It didn’t help that it reminded you of all the action you were definitely not getting. Marshall picked on it right away.

Are you blushing ?! He asked with a grin.

What ? No I’m not…, you replied awkwardly.

You’re so red. You’re blushing.

Shut up, please, you whispered.

Come on, it’s a movie, he chuckled.

It’s just… It’s so awkward, you know ? I hate love scenes in movies, you said.

Oh, believe me, actors usually hate filming them, he said. More awkward to film than to watch.

Have you ever filmed one of those for a music video ? You asked.

Sort of, he said. But the worst was the scene in 8 Mile. Didn’t take long, but I definitely didn’t have much fun.

Oh right, you said. I sort of forgot that you were in a movie.

What ?! You haven’t seen my movie ?! He asked in a fake offended voice.

I haven’t, you giggled. What’s it about ?

He proceeded to describe the movie for you, explaining the plot. You thought it was absolutely crazy that you were friends with someone who had a movie based on his life. Once again, it reminded you of the big deal that he was.

Can we watch it ? You asked. That sounds like something I’d enjoy.

Sure, he chuckled. Haven't seen that in a while.

You changed the movie and put on 8 Mile. It was both weird and fun to see Marshall twenty years ago.

God, you’re hot, you said before you could catch yourself.

He looked at you with a smirk.

Why thank you, he said with a smile.

No, I meant before, you said. I mean, in the movie… Uh, you look good in that.

Better than now ? He asked with a grin.

No, you said.

So I’m even hotter now ?

Yeah. I mean no, I-I…, you began to say as you felt your cheeks burning.

Relax, I’m just fucking with you, he giggled. God, you’re blushing so hard it’s hilarious.

You focused your intention on the movie and tried to ignore him. The movie was good and you enjoyed it. Marshall definitely had great acting skills. At some point, the love scene with Brittany Murphy came on and you found yourself biting your lip. It was just a movie scene, for sure, but it was a steamy one and you were lucky enough to know that Marshall was actually good in bed (or on a couch, or in a car…). In fact, he was the best you ever had. And the last. This thought had you hot and bothered, and equally frustrated.

Like what you see ? He teasingly whispered in your ear.

God, shut up, you groaned as you blushed. His voice in your ear wasn’t helping you.

Not a chance, he giggled.

It’s not funny, Marshall…

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. It was an innocent peck, as there had been thousands before, but it definitely made matters worse. And obviously, you had no poker face, so he picked on it right away.

Don’t tell me you’re horny, he chortled.

Don’t you ever shut up ?

What ? Isn’t the lobster up to the challenge ? He grinned.

Well, I guess we’ll never know, you groaned.

He looked at you in confusion and pressed pause. His eyebrows were furrowed.

What’s wrong ? He asked.

Nothing, you said. It’s just… Nevermind. Let’s watch the movie, ok ?

You can tell me anything, honey, he said softly. What’s up with Josh ? I thought he was great.

I can’t put out, you blurted out. So, yeah, he’s great, but he’s probably going to end up leaving me and I’m going to grow my hymen back and die a virgin.

He couldn’t refrain from chuckling and you shot him a death glare.

Sorry, he said as he caught himself. It’s not what you’re saying. It’s the way you’re saying it. I feel for you, though.

You do ? You asked with a pout.

Well, I mostly feel for him, but yeah…

He’s not the one panicking every time someone tries to touch him, you groaned. But yeah, whatever, let’s feel for Josh, I guess.

No, he chuckled. What I mean is that having you as a girlfriend and not getting any action must be really hard. Pun intended.

He managed to make you chuckle. He always had the silliest jokes.

Come on, you horndog, let’s watch the end of the movie, he said as he shook his head, trying not to laugh.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you to him and you went back to watching the movie.

Is that alright ? He asked with a smirk. Or am I too hot for you ?

Fuck you, Marshall, you whined.

Well, yeah, you wish, he chuckled. Just kidding, I’ll stop.

Thankfully, the movie was good and you managed to focus on it. Soon after the movie ended, you fell asleep.

MARSHALL’S POV

Showing 8 Mile to Y/N was pretty interesting. Marshall got to watch her reactions and it was a fun sight, especially when it came to the sex scene. He couldn’t help but notice her blushing and biting her lip and, obviously, he wasn’t going to miss that great of an opportunity to make fun of her. He didn’t mean to be an asshole, but learning she hadn’t actually slept with Josh made his day. Not that he didn’t want her to be fulfilled - he did - but the fucker didn’t deserve her anyway. He knew he shouldn’t rejoice in another man’s sexual misery, and karma made sure to remind him. As Y/N fell asleep, he kept on tossing and turning. For one, he wasn’t really tired anymore - somehow, being woken up at 2AM fucks up your sleep schedule. Secondly, seeing her all hot and bothered had him all hot and bothered. He could make fun of her all he wanted, but he hadn’t had any action in a while either. He probably would have if he hadn’t blown it up with Nicole, though.

Y/N encouraged him to patch things up with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After realizing his feelings for Y/N were far too strong, dating Nicole seemed stupid. Years ago, he definitely would have used her to get over his feelings, but that wasn’t exactly the man he wanted to be. So he did the “right” thing to do : he sent flowers and apologized for lacking empathy being an ass, but decided not to see her anymore. Thankfully, none of his friends knew he was dating, so he didn’t have to explain his change of heart to anybody except Y/N. She didn’t understand at first but she ended up leaving him alone on the matter.

He took a look at her as he tried to fall asleep. She was really cute and the sight brought a smile to his face. She seemed to sleep peacefully - at least for now - and he hoped she wouldn’t have any nightmares. He kissed the top of her head and cuddled with her before closing his eyes. He almost went to sleep when he heard her moan. Not an unusual sound since she kept on having these awful dreams. He almost woke her up when he heard something unexpected : his name.

Marshall…, she moaned. Harder.

Was she having a dream… about him ? He was about to shake it off when she moaned again. He had absolutely no clue as to what he was supposed to do. Leave ? Wake her up ? He thought about letting her enjoy her dream but as her moans got deeper, he felt as if he was about to go crazy. To make matters worse, she was squirming. She always moved when she slept but now, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Honey, wake up, he whispered as he gently shook her arm and turned on the little lamp on the nightstand.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him, flustered. She sat up and he could see her nipples poking through her tee-shirt. This woman was going to be the death of him and he knew it.

Are you alright ? She asked in a small voice.

Are you ? He asked as he couldn’t keep himself from smirking.

At that point, it was second nature to him. He had to tease her about it. Anyone would do the same if they were laying in bed with a beautiful woman having a wet dream about them, right ? She looked at him and he could tell that she knew he heard her. She said absolutely nothing, though.

So… sweet dreams ? He chuckled.

She was biting her lip, looking away. She looked incredibly hot and it took everything he had not to jump on her this minute. Plus, he didn’t want to trigger her, obviously. Not to lie, he was having a huge fucking ego boost, knowing it was him who had her in this state. Not Josh. Not anyone else. Him. As seconds went by, the silence was starting to become heavy. They were both horny, it was painfully obvious. She was looking down, obviously uncomfortable.

Look at me, he said softly, coaxing her chin in his direction.

Her beautiful eyes seemed lost in a haze. Her pupils were dilated and her chest was heaving. She seemed to be in some state.

What did you dream about ? He asked.

Y-You, she whispered in a husky voice.

I didn’t ask who, I asked what, he said softly, his hand still on her cheek. Care to describe ?

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. He chuckled softly, amazed at the effect he was having on her. He could definitely get high on this feeling. He grazed her bottom lip with his thumb. It was swollen from the biting. All he wanted was to kiss her. He brought his face slightly closer to her. They were staring into each other’s eyes. He traced her features with his fingers : her cheekbones, her jaw, the curve of her neck…

Marshall, she whispered.

Tell me to stop, he said.

But she didn’t. Instead, she brought her hand to his face and cupped his cheek. It was soft, intimate and unexpectedly sexy. Her breathing was heavy and so was his. He couldn’t resist her anymore. He captured her lips in a soft kiss. His heart was pounding. For a quarter of a second, he feared that she would push him away, slap him or run away from him. But she kissed him back. Thank God. Their kisses were delicate and soft, but they could both feel the passion brewing in each other. He gently bit her lip, causing her to moan.

Tell me about your dream, baby, he said in a husky voice. Describe it for me.

Y-You were…behind me and… I was in your arms, she said. Spooning.

Her voice was breathy and her eyes were closed. He kissed her gently and grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers.

What else ? He asked.

You were hum… kissing my neck… and biting it, she whispered.

I know how much you love neck kisses baby, he whispered in her ear. Can I kiss your neck ?

Yes, she muttered, almost pleading.

He smiled and gently got her hair out of the way before planting soft kisses on her neck, in that soft spot he knew she had. This caused her to whimper, much to his satisfaction. She ran her fingers through his hair, maintaining his head where it was. He chuckled and gently bit her neck.

Tell me more about your dream, honey, he commanded.

You were pounding in me, she said hoarsely.

Was it good ? He asked.

So good.

He kissed her neck again. He was dying to make her his, but he didn’t want to rush her. He just wanted her to enjoy the moment. He could tell she needed some release.

How about you show me how good it was, baby ? He suggested.

W-What ? She asked shyly.

Touch yourself for me, honey, he said before kissing her shoulder.

He knew he probably shouldn’t ask her to do that. But in this instant he absolutely didn’t care. He was burning for her and he could feel her desire. They were looking at each other, as if they were high. She nodded and began running her hands on her body, on top of her clothes. She was wearing a tee-shirt and shorts. She closed her eyes, seemingly enjoying the sensations. One of her hands went to her breasts, stroking and pinching her nipples, while the other rubbed her thigh. Apparently, it was enough for her breathing to accelerate. This was the sexiest thing he had thing in a while. He was so hard it was almost painful. This view was both a blessing and a curse. He needed to touch her. He gently cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch while she kept on touching herself, her hand going from her thigh to her pussy.

I want to hold you, he said softly. Can I ?

She nodded softly, her eyes still closed. He settled behind her. He took her in his arms while she rested between his legs, still busy with herself. Her head was resting on his shoulder as he traced the features of her angel face. Eventually,her hands got underneath her clothes.

You can just take them off, baby, he whispered.

Once again, she said nothing. Only sweet moans were escaping her lips. However, she seemed to agree, as she removed her tee-shirt and her shorts. She spread her legs a little and rubbed her clit, which made her whine. He kissed her temple while his fingers were gently tracing circles on her shoulder. Her moans got louder when she inserted a finger inside her pussy. He knew she was soaking wet and it was making him ever hornier. He knew how good it felt to be inside of her.

Does it feel good, baby ? He asked in her ear.

Yes, she moaned before inserting a second finger.

He spilled kisses in her neck while she fingered herself, determined to see how loud he could make her moan.

Come for me, babygirl, he whispered.

I can’t, she replied in a croaky voice.

Do you want me to help you ? He asked softly.

She stopped what she was doing and turned to him and looked at him in anticipation. She looked shy. He placed a tender kiss on her lips and stroked her cheek.

I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, baby, I promise, he said.

Ok, she whispered.

Ok what ? He asked in order to make sure he wasn’t misunderstanding anything.

You can… help me.

He kissed her again. He felt so proud that she trusted him enough. All he wanted was for her to feel safe. He grabbed her hand and gently sucked her fingers, enjoying her taste. He removed his tee-shirt so that he could feel her skin against his.

Come here, he said as he put her in a spoon position. Take my hand and show me what you want, baby.

They were comfortably laying in bed, cuddling while he kissed her neck. She grabbed his hand and put it on her breast. He could feel her heart pounding. He gently pinched her nipple, causing her to moan and arch her back against him, no doubt feeling how hard he was through his sweatpants. He did it again, a bit harder, while he bit her neck. She started grinding her ass against him, still in the spoon position, driving him crazy with each one of her hip movements. He gently put his hand on her hip, stopping her.

Hold on, babygirl, he chuckled. You’re driving me crazy here. Let’s focus on you for a bit, alright ?

It was true : he wanted to focus his attention on her. She chuckled softly and grabbed his hand again. They interlaced their fingers.

Can you… touch me ? She whispered.

Anything you want, honey, he replied with a smile.

He gently cupped her sex, feeling how wet she was. His palm was against her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance.

Is this what you want, baby ? He asked in a husky voice.

Yes, she moaned. Please, Marshall.

He pressed his hand harder and inserted two fingers in her as she let out a gasp. She was squirming against him, rocking her hips in sync as he was moving his wrist. At first, his movements were slow. He wasn’t in a rush anyway. Plus, the last thing he wanted was to trigger her or hurt her.

Are you alright ? He asked carefully.

Yes, she moaned. It’s good.

He buried his face in her neck as he went a bit faster. Her moans became a lot deeper and he could tell she was about to come. He accelerated the movements of his head and she let out a small cry as he felt her walls clench on his fingers. Her whole body seemed to contract before relaxing altogether.

Oh God, she whispered.

Did you like it, honey ? He asked with a smile - already knowing the answer.

Yes, she softly giggled before burying her face in the pillow.

He gently turned her so that she could face him, so that he could see her beautiful face. She looked relaxed and happy, though still hazy.

You’re so beautiful, he said. I want to kiss you. May I ?

Instead of replying, she kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around her as their tongues found each other. It was a deep, ardent kiss. Their legs were tangled together, as their arms were clutching at each other’s body.

I think… I want you, she whispered shyly.

Are you sure baby ? He asked softly. You don’t have to.

I’m sure, she whispered. Just… be gentle ?

Of course, love, he said. How do you want it ?

Spoon ? She asked with a little smile.

He chuckled. She seemed to enjoy this position. It wasn’t particularly his favorite, but he was happy to indulge. There was something about it that was soft and intimate, which he had to admit was enjoyable. He removed his sweatpants and boxers and they resumed the spooning position. He slowly positioned himself at her entrance and he felt her tense up.

Are you sure, honey ? I swear we don’t have to…

Yes, she said hoarsely. I want you. And I trust you.

He kissed her temple and entered her. She let out a groan and he froze for a second. However, she relaxed and he took it as his cue to start moving. He was thrusting slowly while peppering her face with soft kisses, holding her in his arms. He started to gently explore her body with his hands, making sure she was ok with every move. He teased her nipples with one hand and stroked her clit with the other.

Faster, she begged. I’m… so close…

He happily obliged and started to thrust faster, going deeper as well. He felt her clench around him again, slightly jerking as they both reached climax. He buried his face in her neck while they were both panting, gasping for air. He grabbed her hand and held her close to his body.

Are you alright ? He asked after a few minutes.

Yes, she said softly. Are you ?

Absolutely, he said.

She turned to face him. She had such a pretty face and reaching orgasm definitely gave her a nice glow. He chuckled as he cupped her face with his hand.

God, I’m so in love with you, he said.

He didn’t even think twice before saying it. It felt natural to him. Before he could catch himself, he saw the soft smile of Y/N turn into an expression of shock.

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