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#And the first chapter is usually a lot longer than a normal one
azrielbrainrot · 7 months
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?
Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury
Word Count: 6670
Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!
Part 1 ○ Part 3
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Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.
Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.
His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.
In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.
Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.
He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.
You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.
As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.
He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.
Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.
He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.
He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.
His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.
His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.
“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.
“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.
He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.
Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.
Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.
Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.
He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.
“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.
He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.
He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.
“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.
“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.
“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.
“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”
“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.
Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.
“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”
“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.
“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.
“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.
He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.
“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?
Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.
Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.
“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.
“I will not leave her.”
“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.
Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.
He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.
He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.
Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.
“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.
“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”
He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.
He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.
“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.
When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.
Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.
Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.
That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.
“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.
“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”
“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.
“Why would she hurt you then?”
“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.
“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.
“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”
“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?
“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.
“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”
“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”
Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.
⋆。°✩°。⋆
You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.
You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.
The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.
You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.
Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.
Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.
You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.
As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.
You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.
As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.
You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.
You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.
The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.
When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.
“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.
“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.
“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.
Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.
The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.
As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.
If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.
Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.
Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.
You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.
When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.
Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.
You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.
A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?
“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.
Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.
You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?
Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.
“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.
He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.
You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.
“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.
Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.
“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.
“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.
You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.
The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.
“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”
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tojiscrack · 6 months
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𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋
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summary: 22.8k words — it’s a change of scenery, change of friends, and even a change of dynamics. you and megumi go through all of middle school together.
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notes: popping this one out at 4am where i live. you bitches better be GRATEFUL after begging for this update 0-0 the next update, before anyone asks, is probably going to take even LONGER bc i have to focus on my levi fic. don’t give me that look — that hasn’t been updated since november 😧
tw: swearing (like, once, i believe).
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.
previous chapter :)
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
2014-2015 sixth grade
'the day's nearly over' you reminded yourself over and over again as you walked down the unfamiliar hallways.
they told you that middle school was different, but nobody warned you about how independent you'd have to be from here on out. you found yourself comparing nearly everything to elementary school, which you were comfortably attending not even six weeks ago. you did not think you'd prefer elementary school, especially not with the monster of a teacher that you were blessed with for two years in a row, but when you found that you didn't share every single class of yours with megumi, you grew more and more disappointed.
you only shared four out of the eight classes you had in a day with him. it didn't help that you ended up picking theatre and he ended up picking art.
so you found yourself walking down the long hallway and taking the first left where you knew the theatre area was (curtesy of the open days you'd attended during the fifth grade) with the comforting conversation you'd had with your mom before she dropped you off at school in the morning.
during the summer, over on friday night dinner at satoru's place (the usual), it had been vaguely discussed how you and megumi would now be able to walk yourselves to your new school without the suffocating presence of one (or even both) of your parents. the excitement of it all came with the thought of starting an entirely new school, though it faded after the familiarity of your normal routine — where your mothers dropped you off with kisses and lots of smiles — changed completely the second your foot crossed over the line that indicated school grounds.
for the first day, your parents insisted on dropping all of you off (uncle ogi included, even though it was only maki and mai's second year here) and before you could follow your friends past the school gate, your mom had rubbed your back soothingly, as if she knew something you didn't.
you realised what it was now — a big change. though it wasn't entirely unpleasant, you just weren't too used to it.
at the end of the corridor, outside of the theatre hall, you could see people going in and out, movement very clear from where you were standing. however, the closer you got, the two stagnant figures at the end if the hall became more clear to you: a boy about your height and a girl taller than the both of you.
you weren't an eavesdropper (in most circumstances) but here, you could tell that there was some uncomfortable tension surrounding the two of them, so you paid attention as you leaned against the wall. you had time till your lesson started, you figured that you could use the spare time for something juicy.
"sorry, no... i don't really know who you are," the girl spoke, her voice soft as silk as she adjusted the singular strap of her bag over her shoulder.
immediately, you became well aware of what was occurring before you — the guy was asking the girl out. and it seemed that, judging from the girl's delicate response, they had only just met.
expecting the boy to back off and leave, you averted your attention to the display board hanging on the opposite wall, showcasing several plays that the school had their theatre students successfully perform. however, even as you found yourself immersed in the talent that was presented in polaroids and printed images, your ears could not block out the heated argument that the boy had then started.
"i never wanted to be with you anyways," he began, expression feral by the time you'd turned your head to see it. "you're a bitch, and you're never gonna get asked out again. i only did it because i felt sorry for you."
your brows had already knitted themselves together as you watched the boy go on a tangent with his displeasure on getting rejected. you silently examined for the next couple of seconds to see if the girl would defend herself, throw in a few casual responses as well, maybe, but when the slightly busy corridor only echoed the conversations of the ignorant teens walking by as if nothing major was happening, you knew she was too polite to say anything.
he opened his nasty mouth once more — perhaps to spew more venomous lies and pointless insults — but was cut off by your cruel intervention.
"look who's talking, with a mouth like yours, that underbite's making it difficult for me to see if you're a camel or human."
you imitated his underbite, jutting out your bottom teeth in a rather aggressive manner. and you weren't done there — you raised a gentle hand over the girl in a hesitant manner, a silent question as to whether you had permission to touch her. when the girl nodded ever so slightly, you continued with your theatrics.
"go out with me," you cried, underbite still exaggeratively visible. "otherwise no one else will!"
"neanderthal-looking motherfucker," a pretty, dark-haired girl added swiftly. you looked over your shoulder, following the sound of the confident voice. she was standing behind the three of you, apparently attentive to what had been happening before her.
you grinned, turning back to the dumbfounded boy once more. "yeah, clear example of failed evolution, guys."
it seemed that the boy had had enough, turning away and scoffing to himself as he pulled up his loose pants and stomped off, fuming. you half expected smoke to flow out of his ears, surprised when he silently disappeared without commotion.
"i hate guys," the short-haired helper commented casually, eyes still focused on the end of the corridor where he'd last been seen by the three of you.
you nodded. "me too."
"thank you so much," the other girl said with a smile, looking more relieved than ever. her blonde hair, which was already tied back in a low ponytail, was tangled between her pale fingers. maybe it was a nervous tic. "he's in my math class, he tried talking to me there too."
"ugh, forget him, you're literally so gorgeous," the fiercer one of the two girls replied with a sigh. "anyway, are you two here for theatre?"
"oh, no, not me," the other girl responded, her pale cheeks now dusted with a light pink. it had been, no doubt, due to the compliment she received. she shook her head. "i left my bag over here so i had to come back and get it, but i'll see you guys around — i'm kat, short for katie."
"y/n," you introduced yourself with a smile.
"i'm nobara," said the dark haired girl.
the pleasantries and small conversations did not last long, for kat had to run off after a short while, hurriedly explaining to you and nobara that her next lesson was in the complete opposite side of the building. the two of you waved off her apology as she scrambled to secure her bag over her shoulder and run off mid-conversation, reassuring her that she was fine and she had nothing to worry about.
when it was just you and nobara left, and she didn't make a move to leave, you knew she was in the same theatre class.
"i don't swear often," she told you, as the both of you made your way into the theatre hall.
immediately, your vision blanked, unable to see through the complete darkness and lack of light. at first, you almost believed that you made it to the wrong room, but after hearing whispers from your other supposed classmates wondering the same (only aloud) you knew you couldn't have gotten it wrong.
nobara seemed unfazed as she continued her incomplete sentence:
"— but guys really irritate me."
you nodded, and then mentally slapped yourself when you remembered that she couldn't see you — unless she had some weird type of supernatural night vision. you almost laughed at that: if megumi were here, he'd complain about abilities as such being 'not real'.
the lights switched on suddenly, blinding you and the rest of your classmates momentarily. you shut your eyes immediately, face scrunched in distaste at the foolish decision made by whoever had turned the lights on without a simple warning.
by the time you opened your eyes, you found who the culprit was — your (apparently dramatic) and first ever theatre teacher: mr white. he was a lanky old man with a bent posture and thin, rectangle glasses that sat on the bridge of his pointy nose.
"don't let him hear you say that," you muttered with a unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile as he introduced himself with a voice way too loud for this late in the day. "he looks like a scientist."
"he's a theatre teacher," nobara pointed out with a raised brow.
"but he looks like a mad scientist," you continued stubbornly.
nobara regarded you with a look of oddity and for a moment, you were afraid that it'd be a whole new situation where she'd snitch on you for saying such a thing (it had happened back at elementary before; that was a story for another time), but she proved you wrong when her face broke out in a grin, not tight to show that it was forced, and not too expressive to show that it was fake.
"i see it," she agreed with a laugh. "good eye!"
and without even realising it, as the two of you sat together by the cinema-like seats and compared your timetables with one another (you shared six out of eight classes with her!), you had made your first new friend other than megumi.
bonus point: she's a girl!
maybe middle school wasn't so bad. especially not when you and nobara had become mr white's favourite to use as demonstrations for the lesson ("...see? for example, let's say... you, what's your name? y/n? lovely! let's say y/n here had to do a performance. she wouldn't be able to say no even if she hated it because that's professio— huh? you would say no? oh... that's bold. oh, did you day something? what's your name? nobara — okay, well the thing is, you can't just refuse to work with men all the time — no you can't hit them if they tell you that you have to, girls").
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
you let out a gasp of shock when megumi and another pink-haired boy approached you and nobara by the lockers. the final lesson on both of your timetables was physical education, which nobara had audibly expressed that she absolutely detested. you weren't bad at sports at all — in fact, you were rather good at things like gymnastics, basketball and dodgeball if you really tried, but physical education as a lesson?
you never took it seriously.
you were sure that during elementary school, you'd cost your team a game because you completely stood still and examined your nails when one of your teammates wanted to pass the ball to you.
but while nobara's concerns were about the next lesson she was dreading, yours were about the two boys approaching you, particularly the bright-eyed, tall, pink-haired one.
pink hair? you thought to yourself with a grimace. what a weirdo.
you could not find it in yourself to believe that megumi fushiguro, ever the stoic and heartless one, made friends with a (you assumed was friendly) pink-haired guy. your mind had to put extra emphasis on the pink-haired part of his description. surely he hadn't actually wanted to dye his hair pink? surely it must've been an accident that just so happened to have occurred just before the first day of middle school — quite like how you and uncle ogi accidentally dyed one half of mai's hair blue while the other remained pink at some point during fourth grade...
but with the way the boy carried himself, his hands casually resting in his pockets as he walked down the hallway with megumi, an unwavering smile plastered over his gentle face, you were under the assumption that the result of his hair was no accident.
weird.
megumi acknowledged you with raised brows the moment he came within hearing distance of you. he barely acknowledged nobara, whose brows had furrowed in a skeptical manner when it became clear that yes, megumi and his friend were indeed approaching you.
"what's your next class?" said megumi, sounding gloomier than usual. perhaps he'd been having the same thoughts about starting a new school as you had — everyone knew that megumi hated change.
the boy next to him raised a hand and waved. you turned back to your childhood friend with narrowed eyes.
"first of all, it's p.e," you said hurriedly, the sound of nobara closing her locker echoing around the halls. people were starting to come out of their classes, heading to their next one. "secondly, did you just replace me?"
megumi released a small exhale through his nose to show his disbelief at your question. through half-lidded eyes, he averted his gaze from you to nobara, scowling. it was clear what he was indicating, and you weren't very impressed with his silent words.
"this is nobara and she's actually better than you, so..." you introduced her without even looking at her.
megumi's pink-haired companion spoke up just after you.
"i'm yuji," he said helpfully, the smile still present on his face despite your very loud claim of megumi having betrayed you by apparently 'replacing' you with this yuji.
yuji... the name fit, somehow.
"megumi," the messy-haired boy replied, barely smiling or making an attempt to seem welcoming at all.
nobara leaned in towards you, uncaring of whether the two boys noticed or not.
"he looks like he used to pick his boogers and eat them," she whispered, her chin lifting to gesture at yuji. before you could put your input on that, her gaze shifted back to megumi. "and he looks entitled — didn't even start with 'i'm' or 'my name is'. you're seriously friends with this guy?"
"oh that's just what megumi does. he's just angry at life for no reason, you'll get used to it!" you clarified brightly.
megumi did not like that. he raised his pale hand to flick your forehead, and you were so invested in making fun of him, you hadn't realised that he was aiming to do it until you felt the harsh sting of the attack just after he'd dropped his hand back to his side.
"ouch!" you hissed, rubbing your forehead and glaring at him. "why did you do that porcupine? i was gonna introduce myself to yuji!"
"don't bother," he responded, teeth gritted as your loose tongue slipped out the embarrassing nickname you'd made for him. "already told him your name —"
"porcupine?" repeated yuji, only further agitating megumi, who had a clenched jaw now. he faced up at your mutual friend — yuji was about the same height as you, and megumi had grown slightly over the summer so it grew a little more difficult to be able to see the the entire surface area of his messy hair as easily as you once used to. but yuji had decided that he'd seen enough when he let out a boisterous laugh. "hey, i see it! you look like a porcupine!"
as you and nobara laughed at the expression on megumi's face, yuji continued to explain what he'd meant, even as megumi glared at him with enough intensity to potentially kill.
"'cause... 'cause your hair —"
"i get it," he snapped, effectively ending the open-day-on-megumi-fushiguro.
"i like you y/n," said yuji, shortly after.
you beamed. "i like me too!"
megumi watched the interaction before him, his mind immediately figuring out a way to piss you off the same way you managed to piss him off. after knowing you for so long, and going through thick and thin with each other, it wasn't hard for megumi to plunge his hand into the pit in his mind where his witty responses remained, and pull something out to at least render you the slightest bit speechless (his record timing of keeping you silent with embarrassment had been five seconds).
"so do we all have p.e then?" nobara questioned, seemingly accepting the fact that megumi and yuji were going to be with you for the rest of your time here at middle school. it didn't mean that she was necessarily pleased, however, but she did like you and would remain friends with you even if it meant having to be around the two boys.
"yeah, but we're not in the same classes," you said, defeated. "nobara and i are though!"
"are we in their class?" yuji cluelessly asked megumi.
the aloof boy shrugged. "i don't know, ask the mermaid."
time stopped for you.
"the mermaid?" both yuji and nobara repeated with confusion.
there was ringing in both your ears, forcing you to grow less and less attentive of the bewilderment surrounding your two new friends. something in your stomach was wiggling, encouraging you to bend over and release the contents of that morning's breakfast down, eyes narrowing to prevent it all. your jaw had become less tense, slowly dropping to allow your soft lips to form an 'o', your expression softening all the while. your vision grew blurry, not through tears, no, but through the growing heat beneath your skin all over your body. you unknowingly clenched your fists, nails digging into the ends of your palms to form half-moon crescents into your smooth skin.
you had never felt such rage course through your body — your soul, even — in the eleven years of life that you'd been living. it didn't come as a surprise to you that megumi would be the reason, but you'd hoped that out of everything he could have said to anyone in the future, it would be anything but that.
his voice echoed in your mind even though you could clearly see his lips remained unmoving.
'i don't know, ask the mermaid...'
'(...) know, ask the mermaid...'
'ask the mermaid...'
'(...) the mermaid...'
'(...) mermaid...'
mermaid.
the scene before you had flashed before your eyes, the embarrassment you'd felt at the end of the day when you'd later failed to convince everyone that you just so happened to be a mermaid.
the shame brought upon you during the family dinner that week, and how easily it was for everyone to make fun of you when usually, it was always you that managed to poke fun at someone.
"megumi fushiguro," you started slowly, cutting through yuji's random theory about what 'mermaid' could have possibly meant. the traitor you were addressing raised a brow at you expectantly. "how dare you."
before he could open his mouth and retort, (nobara began talking: "what are you— oh!") you stepped forward and pulled his hair, your ultimate move as he gripped your wrist tightly, one eye shut and one eye open in pain. you didn't stop there, raising your leg to kick him in the knee. you shoved him away, dusting yourself off as if you'd touched the dirtiest thing the world had to offer.
he regained his composure easily, glaring at you throughout it all.
"ouch," he said, face straight and firm.
nobara gave him a look of disgust, everyone collectively ignoring yuji's difficulty in standing up straight to stop himself from laughing (megumi slapped his hand off of his shoulder when he attempted to use it as a grip).
you threw your chin in the air with a look of something between victory and annoyance.
"don't embarrass me in front of nobara ever again."
nobara would have laughed at that, but she was too occupied with her absolute discontent towards megumi and his reaction to your attack.
"why are you acting like that didn't hurt?" she demanded fiercely.
megumi shrugged, his hands still planted casually in the pockets of his school pants.
"seriously, how are you friends with this guy?" she then asked you, regarding your moody friend with a look of contempt.
"after this? we're not friends," you declared. but your decision hadn't lasted even five seconds before you stared up at him with disbelief. "megumi, where's your friendship bracelet?"
he looked down at his empty wrist. "i took it off."
"oh — oh, i see how it is," you snapped, taking nobara's hand and stomping away.
the boys watched you walk off, megumi looking exhausted and yuji sporting a wide smile. you were glad nobara did not put up any resistance in being dragged away. in fact, she seemed to be pushing further so she could take the lead instead.
"you'll never — see this face — again!" you called out over your shoulder.
for the brief moment you caught each other's gazes, you were submerged in a moment of betrayal when he did not seem the slightest bit upset. megumi merely stared back at you, deadpanned, the further you walked.
"we're going the same way," he brutally commented.
you hated that he was always right. would it kill him to be wrong just for a bit? if only to save yourself from the embarrassment once again?
"i know."
you hadn't. you'd forgotten.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
physical education felt like you'd joined the military here in middle school — why hadn't maki warned you of that? though arguably, when you and mai had spoken about starting the school, she'd mentioned how difficult it would be, and how maki was such a loser that she took this course incredibly serious.
you weren't bad at sports at all. in fact, you enjoyed it. the annual family football game meant that you had to enjoy it because it was a necessity — you remembered how mai found it super difficult to keep up with everyone else just because her interests lied elsewhere. winning was very important to you, so you always opted to choose mai last whenever you ended up being captain of your team.
that being said, all of that wouldn't be believable if anyone saw the stance you were taking now at the dodgeball game coach yaga (a broad, angry man with flattened hair and sunglasses who seemed to dislike you the most) had organised for you all.
though your timetables had made it extremely crystal clear that you and nobara were not in the same class as megumi and yuji were for p.e, coach yaga had all the classes merge for the first lesson ever to play one massive round of dodgeball. you were pleased to find that the four of you were all on the same team, though the coach began to slowly regret his choice, particularly when the first round had started and he'd finally, properly met you, y/n l/n.
the second his whistle went off, every single person in your team (and the one across you) dashed forward to grab at the balls lined in the centre of the field. everyone except from you.
see, you had stayed back and admired the grass beneath your sneakers, fond at how vibrant the green was. the coach was shouting at someone, and perhaps you should have paid attention to who, especially when you saw him glaring in your direction. you looked back, as if trying to see if he was shouting at someone behind you, only to be met with the empty air of space. you turned, raising your brows as you placed your pointer finger on your chest and mouthed a startled 'me?'.
"YES, YOU!" he'd bellowed, arms outstretched in disbelief. "WHO ELSE?"
you looked around, indeed trying to find who else and only growing distracted with how impressed you were at yuji's speed since he'd been the first out of both teams to reach the line of balls and take them.
"go yuji!" you cheered joyfully. "i've got your back —" you announced proudly, and when you tried moving forward to help, a ball missed you by two inches. you stepped back again. "... from right here!"
"what the hell are you, a cheerleader?" coach yaga demanded. "GET ON THE FIELD!"
"i am!" you argued back, gesturing to where you were standing which, indeed, was on the field.
you were growing very frustrated with whoever this damn coach was. the first time he'd yelled at you, you let it slide. now, however, you were starting to get annoyed.
"GET ON THE —" he started, turning away and sighing when two of your teammates had been hit below the waist. "YOU — WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"
oh this is bad, you thought to yourself in fear. the very last thing you needed was a phone call home to your mom on your literal first day of a whole new school. you did not want a repeat of elementary school, but you could see the way coach yaga was glaring at you. it was almost similar to the way mrs davis — your fifth grade teacher — would stare at you: a menacing expression, made to intimidate you, no doubt.
you looked around, trying to formulate a plan in your head. the smartest idea was most likely to simply participate, but with how serious everyone seemed (some blonde dude from the other team literally screamed at another guy for not catching the ball) you had no desire to be apart of it all.
you turned back to coach yaga when he continued to demand your name.
"it's — it's megumi," you lied, mindful of the fact that megumi was at the front of the field, participating with such ease — the importance of that was to make sure that he hadn't heard you: he'd definitely tell the coach the truth instead (especially because your lie was at his expense).
the coach seemed skeptical, raising a brow at you and pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. you noticed how his hands were slightly more tanned than his face.
"you don't look like a megumi," he said, as he pointed at another student to silently tell them that they were out.
you did not know what to do then. how else were you supposed to convince him that your name was megumi? perhaps you could grow defensive... make him feel guilty for criticising your fake-name? no, you thought wisely, that would attract attention from megumi.
but it seemed that for the first time ever, luck was on your side — for coach yaga had grumbled under his breath, and through the loud yells of your fellow classmates, you heard each and every word he uttered.
"but i remember a megumi from the register..." he looked up at you again. "right. go and help your team!"
your head slowly turned to your fellow teammates, all of whom were working diligently to secure themselves a win. you drew back — dodgeball is never that serious. they were acting like their lives were on the line.
"um — i'm fine over here, actually," you giggled, muttering out a small 'ooh' whilst also flinching at the sight of nobara purposely aiming for that same tall, angry dude on the other team; she managed to hit him successfully.
"that wasn't an option," he spoke, his voice growing in volume with each word, until finally... "GO HELP YOUR TEAM, MEGUMI!"
megumi, who had quite literally just done exactly that by managing to take out the most competitive player of the other team, turned his head at the scolding he'd apparently received.
you had to hold back a laugh, puffing out your cheeks with the breath of air you'd held in to help with that. you were somewhat grateful for yaga's glasses as they made it difficult to see who he was looking at.
megumi, confused at the random scolding he received (one he firmly believed he did not deserve when that blonde girl on his left could barely throw at a proper distance), straightened up and turned his attention back to the game, catching a ball that had been thrown at him and ultimately leaving said-thrower out of the game.
meanwhile, you actually took several tentative steps forward, noticing a ball rolling at your feet. bending down, you picked it up and examined it for a moment. you raised it high, ready to throw it...
— to your teammate because you had no actual intention of participating in this inhumane sport ever.
coach yaga clearly did not like that:
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MEGUMI?"
the actual megumi turned his head to glare at the coach, who looked extremely irate. megumi did not understand — what was he doing wrong? why on earth was this man distracting him from playing for his team? was he purposely being biased, distracting him for no reason to allow the other team to secure a win?
he was growing angrier for every second yaga continued to scold him for doing the exact thing he kept saying megumi wasn't doing: catching the ball? he'd done it thrice. throwing the ball? he just did. participating? what the hell was he doing the entire game then, if not participating?
all the while, you had to turn away and place a hand over your mouth, your chest heaving every time coach yaga yelled at you and referred to you as megumi. it only grew more difficult to hold back a laugh, particularly when megumi would stand up and glare at the coach.
you somehow ended up in the middle of your team's side of the field, which was not what you wanted at all. but before you could turn and walk back to what you claimed as your designated spot at the very back of the field, you noticed your shoelace untied.
"oh!" you said, hearing coach yaga yell 'your' name as you bent down to tie your laces together again.
unbeknownst to you, when you'd ducked to do your laces, a ball had been thrown, and while it was meant for you, your action had allowed it to fly over you and hit another player who just so happened to have been standing behind you.
that must've been it for coach yaga, because at that time, he'd yelled at you louder than you'd ever heard him do so in the past fifteen minutes.
"MEGUMI, WHY DIDN'T YOU CATCH THAT BALL?" he bellowed, his grip on his whistle tightening so much, you could see his veins bulging. "YOU COST YOUR TEAM A PLAYER!"
the look on megumi's face was outrageous: his brows were furrowed so much that some of his forehead (that was usually mostly concealed by his fluffy hair) was slowly starting to show as he swiped a warm hand across his face in both exhaustion and irritation. he was now under the impression that coach yaga either picked on him for the sake of it, or that he was simply blind. it would explain the sunglasses he wore indoors.
megumi then unconsciously came up with the counterargument that satoru did the same, though he easily countered it with the fact that the white-haired male was simply foolish and incompetent.
megumi truly believed that, unlike satoru, yaga wasn't foolish or incompetent. he liked his strict nature. initially.
now, however, megumi was slowly growing to hate the man for spewing up lies about things that megumi had apparently done (when did he run away from an incoming ball?).
so being accused of costing a team a player when he'd indeed caught a ball and gave the team back a player was where he had to put his foot down. enough was enough.
"i didn't!" he snapped, yaga's head tilting and brows furrowing menacingly. megumi could have sworn that he also looked challenged, in a sense.
yaga let out a noise, something between a scoff and a gasp. he seemed almost confused.
"who are you, boy?"
megumi glowered. "megumi."
you watched the conversation playing out before you, watched as someone caught a ball that had been flying towards megumi's distracted figure, watched as yuji apologised to a girl he'd taken out of the game, watched as your plan deteriorated before you.
you had two options:
you could go ahead and distract coach yaga, turn his attention back to you and make him completely forget that a random, angry boy just lied about his name being yours... or, you could stand back and enjoy the show. after all, it was rather amusing, and you didn't actually believe that your lie could be held out for so long (though you were surprised with how much megumi had tolerated).
you chose the latter. it was fun.
"oh so you're the new class clown, are you?" said coach yaga, and you nearly choked on your own laughter when you saw megumi's offended expression. "nice try — megumi's a girl name."
oh, you thought with amusement. he pulled the perfect card; you watched as megumi's expression had softened (still glowering, always) and spoke under his breath.
"not a girl's name..."
"you trying to be funny, boy?" coach yaga continued brutally. he unfolded his arms. "you're not megumi. she is!"
your cover had been blown: megumi's head turned, leisurely, slowly, almost as if he was hoping, praying to the lord above, that 'she' wasn't who he thought it was.
but when his gaze met yours and found the amusement dancing around your features as you crouched to poorly hide your laughter, he knew his prayers had been dismissed.
of course. why did he even care to believe in hope at this point?
megumi might have been having the worst day of his life, but you were experiencing your best. it wasn't even coach yaga's exclamations that had you reeling (though it was a good contributing factor) it was megumi's realisation, the scowl on his face, the deadpanned look he sent as he sighed loudly, so much so that it almost sounded like a drawn out groan. there wasn't even a point in hiding your laughter from both him and coach yaga anymore, it was clear as day that you were enjoying every bit of this.
megumi was angry.
"i'm megumi," he informed coach yaga. "not her."
coach yaga didn't take that lightly.
"you — megumi is not your name, boy, what are you yapping about?" he demanded, almost growing. he reminded you of that one scene from your favourite anime 'attack on titan' where the teacher — keith shadis — yells at his students, face contorted to form an expression that looked rather funny to you.
"megumi is my name," your angry friend responded, side-stepping away from a ball that had been thrown at him. he glared at you. "that was your fault."
you raised a brow. "how? you dodged it."
he ignored you, choosing to glower at coach yaga instead.
"her name is y/n."
"the hell?"
you thought it was the perfect chance to confuse him even further. you called out to the coach from your favourite position at the back.
"no, no, he's right!" you informed him loudly. "he's megumi!"
coach yaga stared at you, positively startled. "what —"
"yeah, he's not lying! his name is megumi!"
coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. you waited patiently for him to look up, and eventually, when he did, he took his sunglasses off to finally address you, bare eyed and all.
you raised your brows in surprised anticipation.
"right — megumi — y/n — whatever the hell your name is — GET OVER HERE!"
you jumped, turning away and skipping forwards.
"erm — no thanks! i'll just start playing now!"
and true to your word, despite his loud protests (and how very verbal they were), you intercepted and caught a ball, saving a distracted girl on your team, and allowing one of your defeated teammates to return back to the field.
you beamed, waving the ball over your head at yaga.
"see? i did it!"
but you frowned at the sight of a particular player returning to the field due to your impeccable catch. you remembered him to be the random voice yelling at you to 'catch the ball!' or 'help us!'. how ironic.
"um — no, i don't want you back in the game," you said, walking up to him and pointing at the line of players that were out. "not after you shouted at me — don't look at me like that — it's my catch! you can be back in the game," you added to another player.
coach yaga screamed at you from in between the two lines of defeated players.
"YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT!"
you averted your gaze from your classmate to the coach, slowly regarding him with a look of something in between disbelief and annoyance. you repressed the urge to scoff at him. what ridiculous rules he had made. you didn't remember dodgeball being this strict.
"well i think you should change that dumb rule," you told him, holding the ball beneath your pit and resting your weight on your left leg. "anyway, what are you waiting for?" you asked the other boy you wanted back on your team. "go!"
he was a stammering mess, gesturing from coach yaga to the field, muttering something about 'but i don't think i'm allowed to' or something along those lines. you were growing more impatient with every stutter, with every stammer, with every bit of hesitation.
sighing, you turned to the player that was actually meant to be back in the game, and gestured behind you at the field.
"ugh, you just go because he's taking too long and it's making me tired."
it was funny, because despite coach yaga's fury towards you, that boy had only gone and rightfully joined the game after you demanded so. perhaps p.e lessons weren't so bad, what had nobara been complaining about back when you had a conversation about sports by her locker? p.e was fantastic.
until your ears began to ring again. coach yaga had turned a deep shade of burgundy.
"HEY, THAT'S IT!" he bellowed, and to your complete surprise (and fear), he began stomping forward, making a move for you despite the game continuing.
you squeaked, dropping the ball and running away, unaware of the chaos that had ensued after the referee left his position. you noticed how several players from both teams thought it'd be wise to run back on the field, playing as though they had not quite literally cheated due to the coach's distraction. the thought would have made you laugh had you not been running for your life.
you looked over your shoulder and nearly fell over when someone from the opposing team had recklessly thrown a ball in your team's direction, only for it to hit coach yaga on his thigh.
you stopped, eyes darting over to the culprit who turned out to be a very tall, lanky, brunette kid. his eyes had turned as wide as saucers at the realisation of the gravity of what he'd done. you turned back to coach yaga, shaking your head at him.
"sir you're out," you alerted him helpfully.
you hadn't noticed yuji hovering over your shoulder, megumi standing idly beside him and nobara observing with poorly contained amusement.
"she's right y'know," you heard yuji comment to megumi lowly, but you knew that if you had been able to hear it, coach yaga had definitely heard it too. "he is out —"
you thought you made coach yaga absolutely lose it when he made his move towards you, walking through the ongoing game because he'd just about had it, but you did not know that there was more patience left in him to narrow, not until he stood before you now, fingers half curled inwards and hovering over his own head. you would've assumed that he was going to rip his own hair out, but then you noticed how he didn't really have any to do so.
it was when he started visibly vibrating on the spot, and practically acting feral with untamed indignation, did you fully realise the extent of just how short this man's temper was.
a noise bubbled out of his throat, something akin to a howl. you snorted.
"wait — why's he glitching?" you laughed, watching the odd scene unfold before you.
"oh — he's spazzing out," said yuji, sounding almost concerned despite speaking with a curious air of thoughtfulness.
"men," sighed nobara, eyeing coach yaga critically.
megumi observed his teacher, unbothered. "she broke our teacher."
"i did not break him!" you snapped, but then noticed something that made you clap excitedly. "megumi! he's growling like bear from masha and the bear!" you chortled loudly, slapping away his hand that had extended past yuji to pinch at your arm.
"you couldn't have stopped yourself?" said megumi, eyes half-lidded and seeming slightly bored, not nearly as interested in coach yaga's odd actions as much as everyone else.
you frowned. "huh —"
"it's the first day."
"i know that," you said brightly. "what's your point?"
megumi walked away from you, muttering something under his breath.
it didn't take long before everyone lost interest in the dodgeball game at hand and became more fascinated with the way coach yaga ordered you to get off the playing field and face the other way, apparently in a middle-school version of time out. you scowled. a school for 'big kids', they said. they'll treat you like 'adults', they said.
what lies.
after the twenty minutes of the first round was up, he sent you back on the field with your team, but not before borderline threatening you.
"hey — you," he said, once you'd excitedly waved at nobara. you looked up at him, curious. "you better fix up, or else."
"or else what?"
"or else."
you tilted your head when he left it at that, opting to stare at you in some weird method that was made to, no doubt, intimidate you.
"i don't get it. or else what?"
he groaned loudly. "don't make me shout. get on the field and participate."
you definitely did one of the two things: you stepped out on the field and joined your old friend (and your two new friends) and chatted their ears off with enthusiasm. but as for the latter...
you still faced issues with obeying that particular order.
dodgeball just was not fun when you were so strict about it, so instead of lingering at the back like you had previously done, you joined nobara and stood behind her for moral support.
"i want to get that guy out," she told you, and while it may have looked like you were both conversing about plans for the game to an outsider, you knew all too well that it would only be nobara who formed a game plan.
you side-stepped a lousily thrown ball when you spotted something from the corner of your eye.
"look, nobara! that cloud looks like a bum!"
"what — OW!"
distracted by your observation, nobara had averted her gaze from the opposing team for a single second before she found herself clutching her eye, bulging in pain due to the ball that had made contact with it.
you gasped. her hand hovered over her injury. coach yaga yelled at you furiously.
nobara had to sit out for the rest of the round, a bag of frozen peas pressed against her eye as she lazily slouched on the chair. you scolded the attacker, ignoring the way coach yaga scolded you.
"stop shouting at him when it was your fault!"
"okay okay," you scowled, walking backwards without keeping your eyes off of the coach, your back meeting the side of a warm body.
you turned, startled when yuji's pink hair brushed your cheek.
"oh, careful!" he said, helping you stand properly. he looked over your shoulder, flinching when nobara glared at him simply for meeting her gaze. "damn, nobara seems pissed."
"yeah, it's all that guy's fault," you said, pointing at the boy who had thrown the ball at her.
"wasn't it your fault?" said yuji, frowning at you.
your gaze hardened rapidly. whose side was he on? yours, or that random dude that had the ugliest smirk you had ever seen and was the actual reason nobara was benched for this round? you liked yuji, but you were very disappointed with him now.
"i didn't throw the ball at her."
"yeah but you distracted her —"
you screamed, grabbing yuji by his skinny arms and pulling him in front of you to use him as a human shield. he was surprisingly easy to manoeuvre, moving in the exact direction you had intended with no difficulty whatsoever. half a second later, he had let out a pained groan when the incoming ball met his abdomen just below his waist.
coach yaga blew his whistle.
"you poor kid, you're out," he shouted over the cheers of the other team.
yuji looked at you over his shoulder, incensed and desperate. you let go of his arms and released a long breath.
"heh — erm — thanks for your sacrifice, yuji."
"seriously?" he demanded. "that's what you say after you get me out?"
"sorry, it was every man for himself!" you reasoned with a helpless shrug.
"one of us is a man," he grumbled, making his way towards the line of players that were out.
you waved at him, turning around and then stumbling backwards when megumi's neck had been mere inches from your own face.
"oh — porcupine —"
"don't."
"you scared me!"
he glared at you. "stay away from me."
well that wasn't very nice. megumi never ever expressed his love for you or how you were the greatest friend in the world, which you were used to, that had never been a problem. he definitely insulted you here and there (often) but he gave as good as he got. however, never had he ever said something as rude as that with very little context.
you were not impressed.
"that's rude," you stated with a huff.
"you got those two sent out," he said, quick as a flash. "that's rude."
you rolled your eyes at him. "that's not even true," you said, before pushing his shoulder with yours to walk away from him, only to turn back and add something else. "and i don't even want to stay with you anyway."
"good."
"good!"
"oi, the two megumis!" yelled coach yaga.
the two of you simultaneously looked at the coach. megumi grumbled.
"GET ON WITH IT!"
your ex-friend's head turned to face you once more, and you watched as he scowled at you, his jaw tense and nostrils flaring.
"get away from me," he ordered you coldly.
you raised a brow at him, critical and incredulous.
"no," you said, disbelief hanging onto the single syllable. "it's a free country!"
"i was here first," he responded quickly, with all the passion and excuse of a bratty child.
"yeah well guess what porcupine? i don't care."
"you should. you're gonna get me out somehow."
"whatever," you said, before turning to walk away.
but then you hurriedly turned back, wanting to address something very quickly. megumi had already shaped the rest of his body in a competitive stance, knees bent and arms extended. his brows were furrowed, eyeing the opposing team almost menacingly, though he looked more focused and concentrated than he did angry. he barely moved his head to look at you when you spoke again.
"oh, and by the way," you stated, pointer finger raised to emphasise your statement, "i'm only walking away because i want to. not because you told me to, so..."
"i don't care," he'd said, just as you'd turned your back to him for the nth time within a single minute.
but history showed that the two of you always fought for the last word and you would definitely not lose your two-year-long streak over some stupid dodgeball game.
so you spun on the spot again, ignoring the menacing look he'd sent you.
"i don't want to stand next to you anyways. i'll stand next to someone who actually wears the friendship bracelet i give them —"
you walked off (for real this time) just as megumi stood up straight and yelled after you.
"i had to take a shower!"
"for what?" you demanded, choosing to walk backwards this time so you could continue walking and talking. "you come out looking scruffy anyw— look out!"
he barely budged when the ball hit his leg, seemingly accepting his cruel fate. you froze when he sent you the stink eye, sheepishly shrugging when coach yaga's whistle cut through the tense silence.
"megumi number two, you're out!"
megumi stood completely still, shoulders drooped and eyelids heavy. you thought he looked like uncle ogi when he sat in his special arm chair and simply contemplated his life. it would have been funny if not for the harsh circumstances. megumi only looked up to address the coach.
"it's just megumi —"
"okay just megumi — GET OFF THE FIELD!"
and as he did just that, you did not miss the small 'stupid mermaid' he muttered to himself.
the slightest tinge of guilt that slyly crawled its way into your stomach and sat there comfortably like a turtle in its shell had been fought off by your immune system the second you'd heard him curse you with that stupid nickname. you didn't feel bad about the loss of that dumb porcupine from your team. he barely brought anything to the table to begin with: excitement? he had no humour. personality? he was boring. style? look at his hair.
the next ten minutes of the game had you almost pleasantly surprised: the majority of your team found themselves standing in the line of defeated players, simply observing, watching and waiting for some warrior to come in and catch a ball for them (seeing as you certainly would not). it had become so frequent, so consistent that everyone but you would somehow get hit by the ball, that the rest of the game was barely dodgeball — it was a waiting game.
they were waiting on you.
to either pick up the ball and throw it, or catch the next ball flying at you.
you did neither.
and because you'd done neither, all the balls had ended up on your end of the field, meaning that members of the other team had to wait until you decided to throw a few back.
but really, you spent your time apologising to yuji. you had attempted to do so before, but the other team rudely interrupted you by trying to bombard you with multiple balls. now that all of them were on your court, they wouldn't be able to attack you.
"listen yuji," you said, for (probably about) the fifth time, "i am so sorry for using you as a human shield and then saying that it's every man for themselves —"
when you thought that you would not get distracted by the other team, you had forgotten that the biggest distraction of all could enter both courts: coach yaga.
"OI, PICK UP THE BALL, AND THROW IT —"
"— wait, i'm not done yet!" you snapped, throwing the coach a dirty look before softening your expression to address a bored yuji once again. "where was i? oh yeah! i didn't mean to use you as a human shield, i just don't like to be hit by things. so i'm sorry i got you out, okay? and —"
"— YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT  —"
"— and!" you continued over the loud voice that belonged to the bear that just so happened to be your coach, "— i regret it so much. i'm sorry, yuji."
"what about me?" said megumi.
you looked at him, eyes narrowed and head tilted.
"only friends get apologies," you told him, gaze darting down to his bare wrist before meeting his dark eyes once more. "and it's not even my fault you got out — i didn't tell you to stare at me, did i? anyways, i'm sorry, yuji."
"IF YOU WERE REALLY SORRY, YOU'D CATCH A BALL AND GET THAT PINK KID BACK IN THE GAME!"
yuji, who had been silently listening to your honest and true apology, had turned his head to look at the coach with a confused and hurt expression. he looked like a kicked puppy.
"pink ki—" he barely finished his sentence before the pout invaded the previous frown he'd been sporting.
"well i can't catch a ball if they're not throwing any, can i?" you said matter-of-factly.
"ALL THE BALLS ARE ON YOUR COURT, THROW THEM THEN!"
nearly every member of your team nodded and agreed. you thought they were a bunch of sheep but said nothing about it. you rolled your eyes and picked up the balls, walking towards the line that separated the two courts and then simply dropped the balls there.
"what the hell are you — WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT TO THEM?"
you turned, one ball under your pit and the other on your free palm.
"i thought you said you wanted me to give it to them and then catch it!"
"NO, YOU CONFUSED CHILD — I SAID TO THROW THEM!"
you dropped all the balls remaining in your hold and then sighed. "this is too hard — OH MY GOD!"
you'd barely been given the time to adjust to the new rules of the game (that you'd never once heard of) before the players on the other team were throwing the balls you had given them at you.
you scowled after you ducked at a ball aiming for your head.
"hey, i gave those to you!"
"yeah, that's the point," a boy with shoulder length hair responded.
you got used to the constant attacks eventually, so much so that you ended up skipping around your end of the field, immune to the constant background distractions and noise (your classmates and coach yaga shouting, nobara was the only one that seemed careless as to whatever the hell you chose to do with your free will) that it almost felt like a dream. it felt liberating to have an entire field to yourself. the rest of the game had gone really well for you: you spent your time cart-wheeling away from the balls thrown, and if you were feeling particularly cheeky in that minute, you'd also do a front aerial.
but where the game had been going splendidly for you, it had been going very poorly for your poor teammates:
"sir can i just replace her?" megumi volunteered, deadpanned and serious.
coach yaga let out a long sigh, though it sounded like it could also be a growl. "no, kid. that's cheating."
megumi looked up at the tall, buff man and glowered at him. "do rules even apply now? look at her —"
you were now trying to convince the blonde girl on the other team to let you teach her how to do the splits.
coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to scar his own aged skin. he blew the whistle after he spent a few minutes contemplating: he finished the game early, and since it was the final class of the day, you all got to go home early.
the class half hated and half loved you for it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
you had to give it to yuji's gramps, the interior design of his house was wonderful. despite being completely deaf, it seemed that the man's lost sense had contributed to his heightened sight, for you could not find a single thing to critique when you'd stepped inside for the first time. it wasn't massive or big like a typical rich person's mansion, it was decent sized and homey, a cosy place that made your insides feel fuzzy and warm like the vibe you got after drinking hot chocolate in front of your fireplace with megumi and the rest of the family growing up.
you, yuji, megumi and nobara hung around at yuji's often. it was easier to get away with things because of the sole fact that his grandfather simply could not hear and made no effort in trying to either.
on one special occasion, the four of you had cycled over to yuji's place straight after school — though megumi and yuji had to take quick showers as they'd been left sweaty and sticky after participating in p.e. you and nobara never did much during those lessons, so the two of you had been completely fine.
"i told you," said yuji, marching over to where you'd been standing by the kitchen to replace the dead flowers in the beige glass, "grandpa hates roses."
"how would you know?" you said, admiring the fresh roses you'd brought over as nobara and megumi threw your backpacks in the designated corner of the living room. "has he ever communicated that to you?"
yuji raised a brow at you. "he's deaf, not mute."
before you could snap back at your pink-haired friend, who had also shot up in height over your time in the sixth grade, megumi had cut through your conversation with a sharp insult.
"you guys sound like idiots," he commented idly. "and yuji's right: he hates roses."
"roses are pretty, what reason does he have to hate them?" said nobara, easily coming to your defence.
over the following months, nobara had warmed up to both boys — yuji and megumi — even if she claimed that she still disliked them very much. her cold exterior towards them had been hard to break, as yuji would constantly mention at any chance he got, but you were glad it did: you couldn't argue with the idiot boys all on your own.
"porcupine, stop siding with the dumb pink kid," you said. stepping away from the roses and making your way down the narrow hall to yuji's bedroom.
"jokes on you, i'm okay with that name now!" he called out from somewhere behind you.
you could hear megumi complaining straight after. "shut up, why are you so loud?"
"you're such a grandpa, megumi," said nobara.
you hummed in agreement, reaching yuji's tall black door at the end of the narrow, dark hallway, twisting the knob and then inviting yourself in. somehow, megumi had overtaken yuji in the walk to his bedroom. you could see the outline of his scruffy hair from his shadow plastered over the wall. once you strutted in, you made an attempt to slam the door in megumi's face, forcing it shut behind you.
he grunted, kicking the door open and then following in straight after you. you had assumed that that would be the end of it, but proven wrong when you felt the heel of megumi's shoe dig into the dip of your knees from behind.
you stacked as a result.
it was embarrassing, but you stood back up just as quickly as you had stacked, spinning around to glare at your stoic friend who simply shrugged and walked off, his hands in the pockets of his pants looking as uncaring as ever.
yuji's bedroom was rather spacious. his walls were a dark shade of blue with a large-screen television attached to the left. he had a single massive window presenting the back garden (which was also not nearly as big as yours or megumi's, though you thought uncle ogi would like the look of it). his bed was rather unique and not out of the ordinary — for someone as spontaneous as yuji, that is.
because he just couldn't have a normal bed like everyone else, yuji had a ceiling bed, something that megumi and nobara had felt was excessive. you did too, for sure (which explained why you spent most of your time up there the first few times you'd come over to his place).
beneath his ceiling bed was his gaming console and a bunch of other cool technological things you played around with from time to time.
the couch at the centre of the room was where the four of you would lounge whenever you'd watch a movie together. it was also routine for you and yuji to argue over the single bean bag that sat just in front of the couch on the floor.
"let's watch a horror movie!" yuji announced as you and nobara flopped onto the couch with all of your limbs spread out.
megumi scowled at the two of you, harshly grabbing nobara's leg and pulling so he could make space. she yelled at him in response, using your hands (which you willingly offered) to pull herself back up and use it as a grip so she could effectively kick at him with her free leg without the risk of falling.
megumi did not like that at all.
"that's cheating."
"i wasn't aware that there were any rules —" she made an attempt to kick him again, "— to this."
"there are when you have the mermaid helping you —"
you threw the spider-man pillow you'd been leaning on at his face and glared at him even when you successfully hit your target.
"yeah, so when you don't look like a porcupine anymore, you stupid sea urchin —" you started, but were rudely interrupted by the enthusiastic voice that was yuji.
throughout all the arguing and chaos, he had been switching through different types of horror movies to watch. you hadn't noticed with the raging hot anger you felt towards megumi.
"insidious chapter three," he read out, comfortably slacking against the squishy bean bag. "yeah, let's watch that!"
nobara, now forcefully pushed to the side as megumi took the odd and foolish initiative to sit on you in order to make you move, loudly verbalised her agreement.
"heard it's super scary though," she said. "let's do it!"
"i —" you began, finding it difficult to speak with megumi's back pressed against your face. you shuffled and pushed at his stubborn body. "i a-agree!"
megumi pushed his weight further into you. you coughed dramatically.
"megumi-you-stupid-cow-i-can't-breathe!"
"good."
"what —" you gasped, harshly breathing in as much air as possible, "what did you eat today — an elephant?"
he only pushed down harder at that.
yuji joyfully clicked on the movie, quickly scrolling down the description and the short list of actors that would be present. you spent the time forcing megumi off of you, only successful after more than twenty tries (you were oddly certain about it) and then claimed your seat by the arm of the long couch. corner seats were your absolute favourite; there was no particular reason why, just that it felt a lot more comfortable than being sandwiched in between two warm bodies — megumi was also very stiff, you and nobara collectively agreed, so if you were to be stuck in between two people, you wished megumi wouldn't be one out of two of them.
with the space you'd been selfishly raiding now free, curtesy of your movement to the very right of the couch, nobara easily slid next to you, linking your arms and shifting in her seat so she could get more comfortable to the new adjustment. megumi, however, stood before the two of you, glancing at the only other corner seat that had been meant for him.
"move," he told nobara, demanding and with the manners of a seagull.
her nose scrunched up with disgust at his tone. "what? no."
"i don't wanna sit in the corner," megumi complained while you played with yuji's hair: his seat on his beanbag was right against your knees.
"yeah well tough," said nobara, lifting your interlinked arms just enough so megumi could see them. "y/n's my friend."
his brows furrowed as if that had been the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, though you knew all too well that couldn't be true, not when megumi had strongly proven his disagreement with hilary smith from the fifth grade when she claimed that the government had everyone put in schools to become robots in the future. that was a core memory you wouldn't forget.
"she was my friend first," he countered, looking as though nobara's point had been extremely pointless.
you laughed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and attempting to look humble.
"guys, guys," you intervened smoothly, "there's enough of me to go around for everyone —"
"yeah guys," yuji added ungraciously, "there's enough of me to go around —"
"nobody's arguing over you," megumi snapped, silencing him momentarily. he opened his mouth to, no doubt, berate him further when you had cut across him, gazing down at yuji with a scowl.
"what are you yapping about?" you asked your pink-haired friend, relishing in the hiss he'd let out when you pulled at his hair, a look of confusion and disbelief on your face. "just do what you do best and find us a movie. you're embarrassing me."
megumi seemed to have given up on the topic entirely, sitting in the only free space and frowning as he did so.
"i did!" yuji argued back, slapping your hand away from his hair and rubbing his scalp with a frown you could not see.
"no you didn't," said megumi, eyeing the tv screen critically. "why are we watching insidious chapter three before we've even watched chapters one and two?"
"because we can, porcupine, stop complaining," you answered swiftly.
"it's dumb," he said impatiently.
nobara sighed irritably. "yuji, just ignore him and put it on."
"already on it!"
but megumi hadn't quite finished his speech:
"that's like watching the fifth harry potter movie without the first," he said, afraid that if he rolled his eyes once more at your stupidity, they'd be stuck to the back of his head for good. "who does that?"
"um — like — everyone?" you replied, encouraging nobara to hit megumi for you. it was difficult to reach him when the two of you were on two different ends of the couch.
he stared at you, dumbfounded with your stubborn response. "what planet are you living on?"
you grinned. "actually, megumi, the only live-able planet that humans can live on is earth so it's not real if i said mars or something," you told him matter-of-factly, and then looked at both nobara and yuji for certainty, your voice low. "...right, guys? i'm right aren't i?"
both of them nodded:
"yeah i think so..."
"yeah..."
"live-able's not a word."
the three of you stared at him wordlessly.
"that's what you got out of that?" you said, voicing all three of your thoughts and cutting through the tense silence.
megumi ignored you, looking back at the tv screen with disdain.
"you guys are stupid, we won't understand anything happening if we skip the first two movies."
"we'll be fine," said yuji, standing up and stretching as he walked over to his mini-fridge beside his console. he looked over his shoulder as he called out to the three of you. "sprite or dr pepper?"
"sprite!"
"dr pepper!"
"water."
...
"you're so boring, porcupine!"
"yeah, who chugs a water during a horror movie?"
"i mean i have a bottle here but i didn't think anyone would actually want it —"
"shut up. all of you. yeah you too, mermaid."
you barely took the time to actually acknowledge what he was saying, barely took the time to realise that he had called you a mermaid, but it didn't matter anyway. whatever his response would be, polite or not, there was no other response you'd give than one that would insult your grumpy friend.
"i'm half convinced that you're really yuji's gramps."
yuji had come around and handed you your requested drinks with a laugh. he flopped down on his beanbag and lifted the remote with his spare hand to click on the triangle to finally play the movie.
"why am i friends with you guys?" megumi sighed, a tick in his jaw as he glared at the tv screen.
"don't be rude," said nobara, and the hiss that megumi had let out during her loud exclamation told you that she must have pinched him too.
"no nobara, this is development!" you clapped excitedly, the intro of the movie playing before the four of you. "it took him years to admit we were friends!"
megumi extended his arm over the back of the couch to tug at your hair. "i never said —"
"— he said it by accident too."
"i don't like this conversation."
nobara nudged your side and used her foot to do the same to yuji.
"he doesn't like the movie, he doesn't like the conversation. what do you like, huh?"
yuji, who had been blissfully unaware of the verbal battle going on behind him, looked over his shoulder and grinned at you. even in the dim lighting, and the flashes of light in curtesy of the film playing before you all, you could see the mischief underlining his toothy grin.
the both of you answered nobara's question at the same time:
"hana."
three out of four of you burst out laughing, struggling to breathe as megumi rested his chin on his left palm and glared intensely at the poor football plushie on the floor of yuji's room. he angrily shoved off nobara's fingers that had curled around his bicep, grumbling to himself as he did so.
"his fated one," you continued, chortling as yuji threw his head back against your knees.
hana was a girl that the four of you had met during your first few social studies classes at the beginning of the academic year. she had been lurking around the four of you for a little while, it seemed odd how she'd also sit on the table in the cafeteria right besides yours and simply stare. she clearly did not seem to mind that she had been caught (except the first three times it happened, and then after that, she'd had no shame).
after a lengthy discussion, one of which came to all sorts of theories, the most meaningful one being that hana was an undercover serial killer out for you all because of the fact that you had literally accused her of it when you'd had enough of being jump-scared by her mere existence, you found out that she was not a serial killer, she did not want to kill you, and she liked megumi fushiguro romantically.
it took a while for it to sink in:
she liked megumi fushiguro.
romantically.
and she was not shy about it at all, announcing that megumi was her 'fated' one in front of the entire class, being the first to offer herself up as a partner to him in paired work, and so much more. your favourite was when she'd introduced herself as 'hana fushiguro'.
but while megumi had disliked this very much, the rest of your little friendship circle revelled in it, wringing it out like orange in juicer.
there had been one golden opportunity that you used to push megumi and hana together. the task had been to create a poster of knowledge about the certain subtopic the class had been studying for the semester. in pairs.
yuji demanded that you be partnered up with him and you nearly obliged, but when you caught sight of a blonde haired, ditzy girl making her way towards an oblivious megumi, you stopped short of yourself and pushed yuji away from you.
"get away from me, pinkie pie," you said, ignoring yuji's 'rude!', waiting and watching as megumi strode towards you with a fierce look in his eyes. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeks as they slowly turned pink with embarrassment.
you shook your head at him, silently communicating that you would not be his partner even if it meant that you got paired up with malakai, the class emo who always claimed that the 'darkness was consuming' him (and also visibly glitches when he does not get called by his short name - kai).
"y/n," said megumi, and you even dared to believe that he was almost at the point of begging. however, after being friends with the poor boy, you were well aware of his pesky stubborn nature.
still, that had not stopped you from being hopeful.
"maybe if you got on your knees and begged," you started cheekily.
megumi gawked at you, in megumi-fashion, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.
"you sadist."
"actually, i'm a masochist."
"..."
"..."
"that's not what it means —"
"anyways, my partner's nobara so..." you told him honestly, and the dark-haired girl had supported you as you leaned against her table she'd been seated at. "don't leave hana waiting."
megumi sighed irritably, then turned around to lock eyes with yuji, but the traitor had spun away with a too-loud laugh and babbled about how the darkness was actually very amusing as he seated himself next to malakai. megumi's eye twitched. nobody ever partnered up with malakai. it said a lot about how determined his foolish friends were.
and as if his day could not have gotten worse, miss haqq, the teacher, had finally spoken.
"megumi, why are we not partnered up, huh?" she asked, though not unkindly. "who's your partner?"
"y/n's my partner —"
you slammed your hand on the table you'd been leaning on, nobara barely flinched, and then stood up properly.
"lies!" you stated, angrily staring at your unsurprised teacher.
she let out a small breath. "y/n we're not in theatre class right now. and megumi?"
megumi shrugged, glancing at you. you bristled.
"miss he's lying," you said honestly, facing him again to stare at him critically. "who taught you to do that?"
"you," said megumi, as though it were a question even a year old baby could answer.
you stared at him, his answer recycling itself in your mind over and over again, making you become well aware of the comical silence the classroom had been left in.
"well..." you began, unsure of where you were planning on going with this, "you just... admitted... to lying... so..."
"right, megumi, find someone who's freeeee," miss haqq interrupted swiftly, extending the final letter of her sentence in an almost sing-song voice as her eyes darted left and right around the classroom before they stopped short of someone behind him. megumi wanted to die. "ah, hana's not got a partner. there you go, i knew my counting wasn't wrong."
but it hadn't ended there. megumi had, with extremely low spirits, seated himself next to the blonde girl and tried his hardest on discussing merely work-related things, all while praying that her insistent staring and odd statements would cease to exist sooner rather than later. but the universe didn't seem to be on his side. not when she first confessed to him, and certainly not now.
"y'know," hana began, in that low voice of hers she always used when talking to him specifically, "you have really nice eyes."
megumi continued to write on their large a4 sheet. "thanks," he'd said, uncomfortable. "my dad gave them."
you and nobara had been sitting in front of him, respectively working on your own poster when you overheard the awkward conversation taking place behind you. after exchanging a look of amusement with nobara, you turned in your seat to speak to hana seriously.
"i usually fight the toji... he's your father-in-law by the way."
you turned back around before megumi could spew out any nonsense about you. nobara had been gripping onto your lower arm the entire time, trying not to giggle.
you hadn't seen it, but hana beamed at the distraught boy sitting next to her, eyes radiant and bright.
"i know your dad's name now," said hana thoughtfully, and you couldn't help but think that toji would not be happy about that, but she didn't have to know that, did she? she continued to speak as though she was sitting on cloud nine itself. "it's good, i'll be more familiar with him. this must be a sign, your own friend knows... we're fated to be together."
you pinched nobara's thigh, though not had enough to bruise or hurt her. she took your signal with a small nod and leaned over the head of her chair to address the dazed girl behind her. megumi continued to glare.
"y'know it's funny," said nobara, a weird tone to her voice that megumi did not like very much, "'cause just the other day, megumi told me that fate brought you guys together."
hurriedly, nobara returned back to your a4 sheet and began working as though she hadn't just crafted megumi's doom. the two of you quietly laughed together, though it wasn't very discreet. megumi's head ached with every simultaneous shake of your shoulders.
hana was very pleased at nobara's comment, perhaps even more pleased than what you had told her prior to that. she glanced at megumi expectantly. he sighed, his grip on his pencil tightening, showcasing his blue veins.
"look —" he began, but hana had moved her chair closer to his, the loud screech of the legs of her chair against the floor momentarily leaving him deaf.
"i mean... i said the same thing before, but i never said it to you, so you couldn't have known —"
"actually you said it very loudly," interrupted megumi, trying not to sound unkind, though it wasn't very easy when everyone around him told him that he was naturally rude. "and also i never said that."
hana did not break eye contact with him as she sighed, her cheek resting against her palm lazily. megumi felt something weird simmer in his stomach. was that guilt?
it couldn't be: he had kindly rejected hana's advances countless times. it was starting to irk him now. he was only twelve, what did he know about crushes and romance? and it certainly didn't help that the three idiots that were his friends always pushed the notion that he also felt something for hana. he could not express the thought enough: he did not like hana.
"i'm sorry," he said, when it became clear that she would simply sit in silence and watch him carefully. "i don't feel the same way."
but hana merely hummed in what seemed like content. megumi was used to it. she had this thing where any rejection to her advances would go in through one ear and out through the other. so why did he still feel the slightest bit of guilt circling around his tummy?
"well," she began slowly, palm raised up as she gestured over to the two girls sitting in front of her (you and nobara), "that's two out of three of your friends that think we're good together. i just need one more for confirmation —"
"yeah i wouldn't count on it," megumi interrupted swiftly, his eyes slowly travelling over to the darkest corner of the room where yuji had been forced to sit in in order to accommodate malakai's needs. the emo didn't like sitting in the light, apparently.
but he instantly regretted his choice of movement, for yuji had caught his eye, and megumi did not like the way it gleamed with mischief. he regrettably watched as yuji stood up, addressing malakai before doing whatever the hell he planned on doing, no doubt something to do with megumi and hana.
"all right mal— i mean kai," stammered yuji, wary of uttering his full name by accident. the whole point of his speech was to make the emo feel at ease with yuji's disappearance, not to draw more attention to it. "i got something to do, so i'll be back, all right?" he explained with a grin. "the darkness around here isn't really vibing with me anyway —"
"no."
yuji's wrist had been caught by a hand colder than his mini-fridge when he'd attempted to leave. he flinched, looking down at malakai who was gripping onto him for dear life, snarling. if discomfort was an image, it'd be this very sight for yuji.
"you must not leave," said malakai, creating the very scene yuji had been desperate to avoid.
"dude, let go of me," he started, pulling at his arm to free himself of malakai's grip, but it was iron tight, cold, and incredibly strong. "dude —"
"yuji itadori," stated malakai, and yuji felt an icy shiver run down his spine. no one had ever uttered his name with such spleen. it scared him.
but before yuji could do anything else, malakai had bared his teeth at him and hissed. yuji stumbled back, visibly and audibly frightened, making a harsher attempt at getting away from his partner, an attempt that included knocking the entire table down and pushing his chair back to run.
everyone's heads had turned to the back of the classroom.
yuji scowled as malakai made an attempt to hide under the fallen table. the emo did not like attention. how ironic when he behaved like that.
"well now there's no point in moving," the pink-haired boy sighed, grimacing at the emo's weird actions. "i can just say it from here: hey hana!"
she perked up. megumi did not miss the wink she sent him. now looking at malakai's need to isolate himself from everyone, megumi thought a deep part of him understood it. not that he'd ever communicate that to anyone, and certainly not you.
"megumi told me in the locker rooms that your — er — your light basically — er — con— contradicts! — yeah that's the word — his darkness!"
"you mean 'contrasts'," said megumi, scowling.
as all eyes turned to him, particularly the pressing ones belonging to hana, megumi recoiled, ignoring your praise to yuji at catching him out.
"i never said that by the way," he quickly assured hana, but she seemed to be in her own world.
"really?" you added cheekily, "because you knew exactly what yuji meant."
"shut up, mermaid."
"now that's out of line!" you snapped, standing up and pointing a particularly sharp pencil at megumi.
"stop, y/n," said nobara, momentarily snapping you out of your thoughts as you averted your gaze over to her and slowly dropped your arm back to your side. she was right. perhaps a physical argument wasn't exactly wise. but nobara wasn't finished; she held up her scissors. "use this instead!"
you threw the pencil over your shoulder, uncaring of where it landed and joyfully took the sharp pair of scissors nobara had offered you.
megumi shook his head, snapping himself out of his own thoughts and angrily pointing at the movie playing in front of you all, his other hand fiddling with his water bottle just to have something to do with it, feeling hot and bothered.
"can we watch the movie?" he voiced, visibly annoyed.
the three of you decided that your joint discussion about megumi and hana would be put to an end seeing as you made your poor friend go through enough torment for a day. but while megumi assumed that distracting everyone from the topic at hand would be beneficial for himself, to give himself some peace and quiet and free of any and all annoyances, he found that this simply amplified the chatter out of you.
megumi had been correct, which wasn't a surprise at all.
watching the third movie before watching the first two created a lot of confusion, that of which couldn't have been kept inside you. annoyingly enough, you just had to voice it encouraging yuji and nobara to engage with you too:
"hey, who's that guy?" you thought aloud.
"that's her dad, i think," answered nobara thoughtfully. "i think his name is alex."
"no, alex is her brother," said yuji, pointing at the screen. "her dad's name is quinn."
"no it's not!"
"yes it is! isn't it, y/n?"
"no, the dad's name is elise," you said, matter-of-factly.
megumi inwardly groaned. "elise is a girl name. that's not her dad."
"okay, so explain why your name is megumi then?" you shot back at him, accusatory.
he grumbled something under his breath. you took that as a win. but it didn't end there.
not only were the characters confusing to the three of you, the story was too:
"what the hell is the man who can't breathe?" you voiced, curious and also simultaneously angry. "why won't they tell us what happened to him? how the hell are we supposed to know?"
"right?" agreed yuji loudly. "and why's he wearing an oxygen mask?"
"clearly he doesn't know style," tutted nobara, before leaning further more into your side. "why is the demon after them specifically?"
"yeah, what the hell is that about?"
"i have no idea what's going on here."
you perked up brightly. "actually, i do."
yuji turned around and beamed, though you could see the slightly frightened look in his eyes.
"you do?" he asked, hopeful.
you nodded and went off on a tangent explaining the story:
"yeah, so, basically that girl that was on the screen like a few seconds ago — i forgot her name —"
"oh you mean elise?" said nobara.
"no, not her —"
"quinn?" said yuji.
you clicked your fingers at him and nodded. "yeah! yeah, her — so she's looking to find out why the demon killed her in another life, but like, the guy — her dad, right — he's trying to stop her because he knows it'll break her. and you know dave?"
you waited expectantly. yuji and nobara shrugged.
"i don't remember a dave," your pink-haired friend commented, scratching his head while he spoke.
nobara voiced her agreement:
"yeah, i must've missed him."
"well anyways! dave is secretly the demon, so..."
yuji stared at you before looking away and nodding slowly as if he were piecing the entire plot in his head together. nobara pulled out her phone, unlocking it and muttering.
"i think we should fact-check it —"
"no don't fact-check it," you said quickly.
"idiots," grumbled megumi.
the movie progressed, just as your confusion did too.
"why did that guy beg for elise's help again?" said yuji, but only after chugging a large amount of his dr pepper, burping ungracefully after.
"ew, have some shame," snapped nobara, kicking yuji's side and relishing in the yelp he let out. "but yeah, why did that guy beg for elise's help again?"
you shrugged. "i don't know guys, let's ask megumi."
"yeah that's a good idea —"
"oh yeah, megumi —"
"don't ask megumi."
the three of you stared at him. megumi frowned.
"i don't know who said that."
"cut the crap, porcupine," you said, rolling your eyes. he looked away, guilty. "we all know it was the red-faced demon —"
he stared at you once again, deadpanned. "sure."
you ignored him. "anyways, why's the demon after their family, megumi?"
before megumi could answer, yuji cut in:
"it's getting a little scary, y'know... hey megumi, how did elise become a ghost?"
"i —"
nobara poked megumi's side. "hey, did elise kill josh or something? i don't get it."
"that's not —"
"porcupine why's quinn trying to contact her mom? why can't she just call her instead of doing rituals? ... porcupine? porcupine!"
megumi had left the couch to stand by the door, his phone pressed to his ear and his back to the movie.
"mom, can you pick me up?"
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
2015-2016 seventh grade
megumi had been off. distant. unavailable, in a way.
it didn't seem like an issue to everyone else, but you could see it in the way he zoned out off conversations, found interest in next-to-nothing, and not even malakai's advances to nobara made him flinch. to an outsider, it would've seemed like megumi on a bad day (when he was acting grumpier than usual). to you, it seemed like something different and foreign was on his mind.
you didn't press him for information, not when he'd given you a short goodbye just before home-time, acting as though the two of you couldn't have walked together like normal seeing as you lived opposite one another, and not even when he'd seemed extra quiet during the last friday night dinner at satoru's.
he was always a quiet kid, sure, but something was missing, and though you couldn't quite put a finger on it, you knew you weren't overreacting.
in fact, even yuji and nobara agreed with you. apparently, during the training for the school's next football game, megumi had been completely out of it that he had to be benched for the rest of the game — according to yuji.
at the moment, the two of you were sitting together for homeroom. the day had just about started, and though you had been forced to sit at the very front, right across the teacher's desk (apparently you couldn't be trusted to sit elsewhere) you disobediently sat right next to megumi at the back of the classroom, ignoring his look of confusion, the most emotion he'd shown within the past week.
"what're you doing?"
"shut up, porcupine," you hissed, slumping in your seat so you wouldn't get caught. "you'll draw attention!"
"you'll get in trouble," he said blankly.
you grinned lazily. "that's what you said about... eight or nine years ago when i sat next to you in kindergarten, remember?"
megumi seemed almost dazed, as though he were in a dream. he'd been displaying odd emotions for the last week, but you'd never seen him so pliable like now, eyes focused yet unfocused, drawn to you and only you as if everybody else didn't exist. was it something you said? was it something you'd done?
you didn't know how to go about it, so you merely laughed, just as megumi answered your question.
"yeah," he said, frowning slightly.
"and then you weren't just wrong," you continued carelessly. "you were so, so wrong, that we even ended up becoming best friends! you didn't see that coming, did you?"
megumi stared at you. you were too busy wondering why nobara had allowed malakai into the seat next to her, though perhaps she hadn't actually allowed him. it explained why she was voicing to him an array of all types of colourful threats.
you glanced back at megumi, noticing his dark pupils following every movement of yours. you laughed.
"megumi stop staring at me," you chortled, covering your face and finding it difficult to speak and laugh at the same time. your stomach hurt as a result. "stop why do you look possessed! ... okay megumi it's not funny anymore, you're scaring me."
you frowned when he rolled his eyes at you. at least some part of him was still alive. you had an idea to bring back every part of him, even more so when his gaze landed on you once more, his poker-face falling slowly. he almost looked upset.
"so i came to a revelation yesterday," you told him, smiling. "i think the earth's flat."
you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, expecting a major reaction, expecting a number of colourful insults, expecting him, megumi.
all you got was the silence that had been radiating off of him for the entire week. at least you knew for sure that you weren't imagining things: your friend was dealing with something so big, it distracted him from your outrageous declaration.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
the walk home wasn't exactly pleasant either. you did most of the talking, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but before all of this unknown drama circulating with megumi, he had the decency to give his input here and there. now, however, it was simply as though you were talking to a brick wall, barely any response to your comments. if you were lucky enough, you'd receive a small grunt or a nod of acknowledgement. but it was fruitless, essentially.
it was almost boring.
you were never bored with megumi. ever.
you had no idea what had him so occupied, but your attempts at conversation had become so dry, you opted to remain silent the rest of the way, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you gazed at the houses you passed by, internally questioning and critiquing the exterior design, knowing that mentioning it aloud to megumi would be less exciting than in your head.
the two of you had made it past the traffic lights by this point, now entering the calm scenery that was your neighbourhood. the roads were empty, only occasionally did a few cars make their way through. the sun had only just started to set, still high in the sky, but vibrant enough to blind you with its soft, orange glow. as the two of you reached the end of the road and turned left to where your houses would be after another few minutes of walking, you spotted one of the houses that had been newly sold to a family of four. it seemed that their moving in process was still ongoing, for the van that carried all their boxes was still parked in front of the house.
you had half a mind to go over and introduce yourselves, find some excitement in forcing megumi to do some socialising with you and relishing in the little scowl he'd sport that nobody but you would be able to notice, but megumi had turned and walked the opposite way before you could say anything.
"let's go this way," was all he'd said, knowing you'd follow him questioningly.
and follow him questioningly you did, turning around and demanding answers for why he insisted on taking the long way home instead of the time-efficient way. it was unlike him. but you'd noticed, within this entire week, megumi hadn't really been himself, had he?
the very last thing you wanted to do was pressure him into telling you what parasite he had become victim to. yet, you had no idea how to approach such a serious topic. the two of you had never tested such waters before. everything you'd been through together had been comical, humorous, never once drowning in the sea of weighty situations.
you just weren't made for it (even if megumi looked the part).
"at least carry me if you're gonna make me walk the long way home," you complained loudly.
megumi didn't respond. you watched him with furrowed brows before giving up the amusing act altogether and sighed loudly.
"what's going on?" you asked him, extending an arm to grab at his and half his movements.
the streets were void of any pressing ears. he had no excuse hiding whatever it was for longer.
megumi didn't shrug you off like you expected him to. instead, he stared at you, jaw clenched and brows furrowed.
"you're being weird," you added, when it became quite clear that he wouldn't respond. your hand fell limp at your side again. "i don't like it."
to your surprise, instead of walking off without a second thought, he shrugged. "don't know what you're talking about."
"don't play dumb with me," you said firmly. "yuji told me you got benched."
megumi's brow twitched. he didn't look too pleased about you knowing, it seemed. you felt like you were walking on eggshells. you hated it.
"fine," you said gently, though your expression remained fierce. "don't tell me. but i —"
you let out a small breath, finding difficulty in searching for the right words to use. you were angry at yourself, but also at the education system. schools should focus on training kids on how to approach situations like these, for you'd never felt so clueless in your life.
"i'm — i'm always here," you struggled to spit out, "if you want to talk."
megumi stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. of course, it was the usual monotonous look, the standard half-lidded eyes and small scowl, jaw tense which would have made an outsider assume he was angry. but you knew better. even with that odd mask, there was always something lingering behind it: that was his happy face as well as his sad, angry, confused, shocked face.
with that list came a new addition, the one displayed shamelessly before you, though you couldn't quite place what it was. though as much as you wanted to discover this nameless emotion, time was cruel, and megumi had already cut it short by choosing to walk the long way home.
you took a small step back.
"okay now laugh," you said hurriedly.
megumi recoiled. "huh?"
"laugh," you repeated, unrelenting. "this is so weird so i need you to laugh."
he raised a sharp brow at you. "look who you're talking to."
you slapped your hand against your forehead in shock. "you're right!" you exclaimed, as the two of you began the long trek back to your houses. "if you laugh, the earth would turn upside down!"
"that's not possible."
the walk home had been a lot more pleasant than the ones you'd experienced with him the last four days.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
the sky resembled a painting you'd seen a few years back when you took a trip to the art museum with uncle ogi and your mom: it was dark, very dark, but the sparkles dotted around each cloud illuminated the night sky, brightening it enough for you to examine it better than one who stared at a sky with no stars whatsoever. you'd heard that apparently in some countries, the pollution was so bad to the point where the stars weren't even the slightest bit visible; you couldn't imagine that. what was a sky with no stars? what was a day with no sun? what was a night with no moon?
what were you without megumi?
no, really, where the hell was he? he said he'd meet you up on his rooftop in a few, but you'd been idly watching the clouds move above your head for a good ten minutes. as beautiful as it was, it wasn't much of an experience without your grump of a friend himself.
content with watching the stars alone, megumi had finally decided to show himself, climbing up from the ladder attached to the roof of the house and pulling himself up through the ceiling window to meet you. he crawled his way over, explaining his absence.
"dad needed me to hide the broken vase from mom."
your brows knitted themselves together. "the china one?"
"yeah," he nodded, sitting next to you and hanging his elbows off of his bent knees. "i didn't help him."
"i didn't think you would," you admitted with a laugh. "wasn't it the fonthill dragon jar? the one sold for twelve milli—"
"— million dollars?" he finished off bitterly. "yeah, that's why i didn't help him."
you hummed, leaning towards him slightly to speak in hushed tones for fear of any eavesdroppers that might run off to megumi's mother and snitch.
"it wasn't a very pretty vase, though —"
"just say it's ugly —"
"— yeah it's ugly."
it was quiet then, quiet enough that if one paid close attention to the scene, the sounds of crickets may be heard. it wasn't a chilly night, hence the lack of thick sweaters on both you and megumi, but you didn't feel as warm as one would have expected. you'd been feeling this way for the past week. whatever megumi had been actively hiding from you had caused a small rift, one you weren't very fond of.
you watched him carefully out of your peripheral vision. he seemed less tense, less angry. his shoulders had drooped, as if a bunch of weights that had been accumulating on them had dropped significantly. megumi's jaw had remained tight the entire week, yet as you stared at the line leading up to his chin and mouth, you noticed how relaxed it seemed. in turn, your jaw loosened, the distance between you and him closing. perhaps whatever your friend was going through was now long forgotten, long over.
"i'm gonna tell mom about the vase," he said, breaking the tense silence as the two of you gazed up at the stars blinking down at you. the moon was full tonight.
"i expected nothing less," you replied, chuckling.
"and the earth isn't flat, dummy."
you could feel his eyes burning holes on your right cheek. you repressed the urge to burst out laughing.
at least you knew for certain, now, that megumi was okay. his consistent need to be right finally returning after its long hiatus, and though it had been extremely annoying over the last eight years, you found it rather endearing too (you'd take a bullet before admitting it to him). megumi wasn't megumi without his unshakeable personality.
"so you were listening to me after all," you stated, averting you gaze from the captivating the stars to the moon sitting next to you.
he blinked at you, bemused.
"i always listen."
and for the rest of that night, you couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever megumi had been hiding, it had something to do with you.
you were glad it was in the past now.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
2016-2017 eighth grade
mr andersen's homework had been left untouched on your desk for about two weeks (despite being given an extension because he was well aware just how bad at math you were). you were tired, exhausted, and drained: middle school was no joke. it was times like these — where some random dude decided that adding letters to the already-difficult math equations — that you felt like taking a knife and driving it clean through your heart.
you got up, a lightbulb hovering just above your head as you beamed, scrambling to take your phone out of charge and scrolling through your contact list.
— go-go-go-joe! (27 missed calls) — nobara <3 — yuji :) (1 missed call) — mother — porcupine 👺
there he was — porcupine — you clicked his number and pressed the phone to your ear, lying flat on your bed once again. it dialled for all of five seconds before you heard his grumpy voice on the other end of the line:
"what do you want?"
you sighed, putting on your theatre skills to show.
"megumi..." you groaned weakly, following that with a fake cough.
"..."
you coughed again. "megumi — ahem — i'm sick."
"sucks to be you."
you repressed the desire to start yelling at him, cursing him out due to his lack of empathy. it doesn't matter whether you were faking an illness or not — as a friend, megumi was supposed to offer help, advice, ask whether you were doing well or not. you remembered a time where his mom had to take him to therapy, concerned about his lack of feeling. it was a funny day, that was.
you tried again, coughing twice more this time.
"i think i have a — *cough* — a fever," you said, trying your best to sound as physically weak as possible. you got up, gently swiping your hair away from your face as you slowly made your way to the window. " *cough* — i can't do a-any homework today..."
"that so?" said megumi.
you nodded, almost forgetting that he couldn't see you. you draped one of your arms over your waist, the other hand still pressing your phone to your ear.
it had rained a little while ago, puddles forming by the sidewalk. the grass looked damp yet very shiny and silky beneath the weak light protruding from the sun, its very presence hiding behind the prominent clouds, thick as cotton candy.
"i just — i can't get out of bed right now — *cough* — megumi."
"yeah, must be difficult."
your lip curled. "yes! — i mean — *cough* — yes... i'm so glad you understand."
megumi responded almost immediately. such a good friend, you thought. you almost felt bad for deceiving him, but it just had to be done. perhaps if you had megumi's brains for math, none of this would be happening. so in a way, it was all his fault.
yeah, that made sense. he brought this upon himself.
"you probably can't stand up straight either," he said, and you almost let out a chuckle.
"mhm — it's so — *cough* — ugh, i hate this." you decided it was time to cage the dog. "i was thinking... erm... *cough, cough* ... maybe you could do my homework — *cough* — like last time? i'm really, really sick."
"yeah, sick to the point where you can't get out of bed —"
"yes, megumi! see — *cough* — see i knew you'd understand... you're such a great friend!"
absentmindedly, you fiddled with the fabric of your beige curtains.
"maybe you should look outside to help you feel better," he suggested.
you grinned, looking up without realising it.
"that's a good ide—"
you stopped short of yourself, met with the sight of megumi staring right through your soul from his own bedroom window. lo and behold, one of the disadvantages of living right across from your best friend.
you froze.
"you should probably use your mermaid powers and heal yourself —"
"that's not how it works!" you snapped, furious.
you stumbled, your hands immediately grabbing the curtains and circling yourself with it, hiding yourself from view. and before he could embarrass you any further (because he absolutely would, that was megumi fushiguro), you hung up, heart returning to its usual pace and eyes wide with shock.
you hurriedly unravelled yourself from the curtains and shut them closed, walking off in annoyance.
"creep," you muttered under your breath.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
fear choked you as you gasped for breath, your lungs constricting in on itself, the back of your knees burning with each stride. with every step, the voice in the back of your head encouraged you to continue, reminding you that you had to keep it up; you only countered back with the question of whether it was all worth it or not. it certainly hadn't seemed like it, with the hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your warm skin and your palms growing increasingly sweaty.
running had never been an issue for you. you quite liked it when you were a kid, enjoying such activities like playing tag or red-light-green-light or chasing megumi (that one was, perhaps, your most favourite of them all, despite megumi's disdain).
now, however, as you ran for your life, you hated every bit of it. you hated the way the air slapped at your face in your hasty strides, you hated the way the adrenaline ran beneath your skin with excitement you couldn't quite understand, and you hated the way you could barely breathe, as if a block of wood had been lodged into your throat. you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way. coach yaga had made you run laps before, but none of them were as painful as this.
and it was all satoru's fault, which no one had let him forget the entire marathon towards the airport.
"why on earth did you suggest taking a shortcut here if you were already on time?" demanded uncle ogi, the lines on his forehead becoming more and more prominent as everyone dragged their bags and belongings with them.
you'd finally entered the building after what felt like ten long and dawdling years. the summer heat had already made you feel faint and uncomfortable, and the marathon everyone had been collectively (forcefully) participating in had only made it a hundred times worse. the sticky feeling beneath your pits and arms felt like you'd just emerged from out of a pool of your own seat. your shirt stuck to your skin like glue.
megumi's dad spoke up angrily.
"he's an idiot, that's why."
you couldn't help but think that he barely looked fazed by the constant running. he only seemed to care about the lack of time everyone had to get to the airport on time.
but uncle ogi did not seem to find that a valid reason, abruptly turning to look at him with visible frustration.
"and why the hell did you fools follow him?"
maki, who was running silently in front of both you and megumi, had reached up and pulled at her father's ponytail. his head had practically snapped backwards to glare down at her.
surprised (and pleasantly amused), you stopped in your tracks, taking a moment to not only breathe, but use that breather to let out a loud laugh. megumi was not pleased by this at all; his hand that had been clasping yours for the entirety of the adventure had tightened harshly, pulling at you to snap you out of your reverie.
"stop," he said, looking dishevelled as the two of you fell straight back into your routine and sped past several strangers behind the rest of your family.
"i did," you responded cheekily, complying with each pull and tug of megumi's hand.
despite all the noise ringing in your ears, the chatter of the public the and cries of several babies, you could still hear maki's harsh voice cut through the air.
"stop fussing," she snapped. "you don't have to be here, y'know."
the lines on uncle ogi's forehead disappeared to accentuate the crease newly-formed between his brows as he glared down at her. oddly enough, you thought he seemed to be faring well with all the running, despite his old age.
"i'm the driver, smart ass!" he shot back, silencing maki as she rolled her eyes at him.
he wasn't lying: all of you had travelled in two separate cars to arrive at the airport. in your mom's car, your mom, satoru, toji, megumi's mom, tsumiki (toji's goddaughter), you and megumi had been in. in uncle ogi's car, uncle ogi, maki, mai, suguru, and mimiko and nanako (suguru's adopted daughters).
satoru had messed around with the gps in the passenger seat at some point, insisting that he knew a shortcut with such confidence, your mom had been too lazy to care about the way he'd toggled with it, brows furrowed with the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his smooth lips. uncle ogi had been following your mom's car, so collectively, everyone ended up being late.
uncle ogi wasn't done there though, his gaze hardening even further before he added his final comment. "and what did i say about pulling my hair?"
maki turned to you and scowled when you kept the smile plastered over your face.
"you wait till we get home —"
"ogi stop threatening maki!" megumi's mom called out from ahead, her voice faint yet every bit demanding.
your legs had long since given up on their own. each movement they made only felt like someone had sent multiple bullets to drive themselves into you, tiring you out and evoking so much pain from you. you couldn't go on any longer, not with the feeling of your shirt practically suffocating you amongst the heat of the crowded airport. you ached to feel some cool air brush against your warm skin, however, the longer you continued to run, the less likely that would ever happen.
you raised your head slightly, chest heaving as you eyed the muscled back belonging to none other than toji himself. your left hand, feeling too warm in megumi's, had been released from its gentle shackles when megumi immediately stepped away from you, almost as if he practically sensed the exact thought you had in mind. you didn't complain, bending your knees (ignoring the momentary burning sensation it brought you) and jumping up, arms gripping onto toji's broad shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunting and struggling as you adjusted your hold on him.
"that's better," you sighed, grip iron-like as he shook himself in a failed attempt to throw you off. to someone watching from afar, they probably thought he looked like a dog.
"get off me, gremlin —"
"it wouldn't kill you to hold her for a bit," said megumi's mom, and that in itself was enough to silence toji. he begrudgingly jogged with you on his back, making no attempt to hold onto your legs as he dragged his — and his wife's — suitcases along.
your mom looked back, no longer running and now confused at the statement before seeing your face hidden in the tall man's shoulders. she sighed.
"y/n, get off of—" she began, before turning away and catching up to suguru, who was running beside his best friend whilst carrying nanako and mimiko, each girl under each arm. "ugh, i tried to care."
jumping onto toji's hard back was probably the best idea you came up with all day. looking down at everyone made you feel superior. the fact that you no longer needed to run along with everyone made you feel superior. the burning at the back of your knees had started to dim, and simultaneously, your heart beat had slowly started to return back down to its normal pace. however, now there was a slight strain in your arms, curtesy of toji being completely unhelpful in keeping you propped up on him, forcing you to hold onto him with all your might. though you'd still argue that this was far better than all that dreadful and tiring running.
you surveyed everything else around you, watching it all pass by in a blur: you could barely tell that the blue waiting seats were, indeed, blue waiting seats with how fast toji seemed to be sprinting. once at the back of the group, now you were nearly at the front, and through it all, megumi still seemed to be at your side, considerably shorter than you were used to.
you laughed, kicking his side with your foot.
"i'm taller than you now, porcupine!"
you couldn't tell whether he was scowling or not, but you'd bet your life that he was.
"normalcy has been restored," you sighed dreamily.
"hey, which gate?" asked megumi's mom, her hands bare and empty since her husband silently offered to carry her things. that was before this entire predicament. you imagined that he definitely regretted that now.
you couldn't see satoru's face, only met with the sight of the back of his head, but you heard him well nonetheless.
"terminal four," he'd answered, and even suguru stared at him in bewilderment.
"yeah, we know that," said toji, already frustrated as it was. "what gate?"
silence only followed after that. satoru's dark haired companion turned back once more with a scowl, gently lowering his two girls back to their feet despite their obvious discontent.
"for fu— he doesn't know what gate," he stated, annoyed. he then shoved the white-haired male. "give me back our tickets —"
"what?" satoru riposted, shocked and angry though he had no right to be. "why?"
suguru looked like he wanted to throttle him. "'cause you can't be trusted, idiot!"
everyone had stopped running by this point, meaning that there was no use for you to be held up by toji's useful back. he seemed to acknowledge this as the adults began to argue, shaking you off with more force than prior. you got the message, hopping down from your personal vehicle and stumbling into megumi's side. the boy held onto your arms to stop you from falling, and you pushed him away in thanks.
"the hell?" he questioned lowly.
you shrugged, observing the adults with a look of mild curiosity.
"does that mean you'll miss your flight?" you commented briefly.
"this is so embarrassing," mai added lowly, turning away from the unhinged people that were your family. "why did we even have to come along if we're not the ones leaving?"
"to say goodbye," you responded, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet.
there were a lot of things you liked about mai, but equally, a lot of things you also disliked about her too. how entitled she acted, how rude she could sometimes be, how maki was just all around the better twin, though you never admitted this out loud. though your silence did speak volumes, even if you didn't know it.
"we'll see them again in a few weeks," she said airily. "how long are you staying there, megumi?"
he shrugged. you didn't think he was too fond her either. although, megumi didn't really like anyone, so that wasn't a fair argument. when this entire trip had been planned, the main issue he had was the fact that the only people that would be going that are his age are mimiko and nanako, and over the years, there was this unspoken competition between satoru's kids (you and megumi) and suguru's kids (mimiko and nanako). as amusing as it was to the adults, megumi took it quite seriously. he didn't think he could deal with them on his own.
you weren't accompanying him on this trip: it would be just him, satoru, his mom and dad, tsumiki, suguru, and mimiko and nanako.
he wouldn't communicate it to you, he wouldn't even text it to you, but he didn't think it'd be very enjoyable without you.
for one, he would have to deal with satoru's constant teasing all on his own (on the very rare occasion that you'd argue against satoru, you were quite helpful). he would be forced to interact with the twins on his own by his mother (usually his mom made the both of you do that, together). there were multiple other things he'd have to do alone on this trip. none of them would be as... dare he think... exciting as hanging out with you.
even throughout all of that, he was beyond grateful that he at least had tsumiki tagging along with him.
it still wouldn't be the same without you since you and tsumiki were not alike. though you were both kind hearted and held very highly in megumi's good graces, tsumiki was an entire grade older than the two of you and held this motherly nature around her despite it. she was, in better terms, like the sister he never had.
"maybe you won't be separated from us after all, porcupine," you said, gesturing to the adults that were still arguing (suguru had satoru in a headlock somehow, when did that happen?).
"yeah, you'll just miss your flight," added maki, nudging your side. that was probably her biggest way of showing affection. you'll take it.
you watched the scene unfold before you: toji and satoru were absolutely ripping each other apart with insults thrown back and forth. megumi's mom seemed to be the one trying to calm things down with the aid of suguru who usually never sided with toji on anything, but seemed to have no choice but to. all the while, uncle ogi was taking up his anger with your mom, who seemed to only care about leaving this place sooner rather than later.
"i'll sit on you," toji had threatened, fist raised at the blue-eyed male.
satoru stood up straight, head to head with him in response.
"yeah?" he challenged, smug. "so what, you're saying you're fat then? is that it?"
toji recoiled. if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you would probably spot the smoke flying out of his ears.
"what?" he demanded, voice carrying around the area.
"hey y/n!" satoru had randomly yelled, addressing you but his eyes refusing to leave toji's.
you froze, unsure of whether you liked where this was going. you had half a mind to step behind megumi and use his tall frame to conceal yourself. knowing your friend, you knew he'd probably be a traitor and step away from you instead.
"y/n! he said he's fat! did you hear that?"
you wanted to jump into a hole and just lay there as time went on and as the world moved on. nothing was more embarrassing to you than that horrific time where you truly believed that toji fushiguro was a 'fat man'. praying daily for everyone to forget that ever happened was deemed useless now that the issue arose again.
"i will sit on you, gojo," toji threatened again, eyes narrowed. "i will do it—"
"okay fatty!" sang satoru, speaking over toji's threats. "fatty, fatty, fatty, fatty—"
"— i'll sit on you —"
"— fatty, fatty, fatty —"
"satoru stop it, you're causing a scene!" megumi's mom ordered, voice harsh and authoritative.
he went as far as placing his hands over his ears to block everyone else out while he continued to sing the words 'fatty' repetitively. your mom stepped away from the scene, looking very much sheepish and uncomfortable.
toji glared at suguru, raising a pointer finger at him as satoru continued to sing. "you better tell him to stop it right now or i'll squash him like a bug!"
suguru's eyes widened, both shocked and angry. "the hell am i supposed to do about it?"
"oi!" interrupted uncle ogi, gripping satoru by the ear and twisting.
the singing had stopped, though the commotion hadn't.
"ow, ow, ow!" whined satoru, his head being pulled down to uncle ogi's height with each twist of his ear.
the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of passersby, and several of them at that. a lot of the lines were empty due to the late arrival of the family, however, for the strangers that had stayed behind for whatever reasons, each of them seemed very invested in the drama unfolding before you.
maki and mai had both stepped forward to calm the arguing, though it only proved useless when it started intensifying at their involvement. you and megumi approached tsumiki, still glancing at the rest of your chaotic family with critical expressions.
"i'll miss you guys," you said thoughtfully, and you meant it even if you didn't mention it much. you would never say that to one person alone, tsumiki's mere presence brought you the comfort needed to express your thoughts with a little more freedom.
"we'll miss you too," tsumiki quickly added, briefly glancing at megumi. "won't we?"
"no."
tsumiki smiled nonetheless. "he's lying."
you smiled. "i know. megumi's the biggest liar ever —"
"look who's talking," he scoffed sourly.
you and tsumiki both ignored him as though he hadn't said anything insulting at all.
"i don't think you'll be missing this though," she continued, amusement clear in her soft voice as she regarded the loud argument.
with toji threatening to kill satoru, satoru came up with a very unique rebuttal:
"see this?" he said loudly, lifting up his phone, the latest model. he turned it over so the back of his phone was presented to the angry man. he jammed a pointer finger at the flawed apple. "i'll turn you into that, yeah? i'll turn you into an apple —"
"why you little —"
to make matter's worse, a security guard had stalked over, smaller in height yet bulky enough to make up for it.
"hey! what's going on here?"
"oh — no — they're family," said your mom, finally walking back to the group to ease tensions.
satoru turned away with a scoff.
"i'm not related to that pumbaa look-alike," he'd snapped, jamming his sunglasses further up his nose.
toji stood up straighter. "yeah i'm not too crazy about being related to skinny santa over there either."
satoru's jaw dropped, his hand enclosed around the bottom of his hoodie. he lifted it up despite the protests from around him.
"you wish you had these abs —"
uncle ogi slapped the back of his head. "put it back down you damn harlot —"
tsumiki laughed behind her hands, only forcing megumi to somewhat scold her for her amusement.
"it's not funny," he said, frowning. "they're being dumb."
"yeah you're right, megumi," she agreed, too quickly. you caught the knowing look she sent you once he turned his head to look back at the scene. "they're being very dumb."
tsumiki didn't wait for megumi to catch on to her teasing, walking off towards maki and mai to observe the argument from a closer distance. her low pony tail swung itself left and right as she walked, her hair shining under the different lighting.
it didn't take long before the argument had ceased to exist: suguru examined the tickets thoroughly (after quite the argument with satoru to get them off of him to begin with) and even approached a person of higher knowledge to help everyone with finding the correct gate and so on. it only meant one thing for you: the time for you and half of the family to part ways had caught up to you all.
you hadn't expected your goodbye to be so rushed when megumi's mother called the two of you over and nearly broke all the bones in your body after wrapping her arms around you. you didn't get much time to breathe before you found yourself squeezed against satoru's side in a one-armed hug.
"aw, don't cry, y/n —"
you looked up at him, raising a brow. "i'm literally not even —"
"it's fine, i'll be back in a few weeks!"
you shoved him away. "just get away from me."
suguru seemed to be the only normal person, hugging you briefly before rubbing the top of your head affectionately.
his daughters didn't get the same treatment you gave him. instead, you urged them to come closer and gave your request in hushed tones.
"take as many ugly pictures of megumi as you can."
before they could question you, everyone was called over to cross the gate for the flight.
that was it, then, you realised, as the twins hurried over to follow their dad. you wouldn't be with everyone for the next three to four weeks. everything was going too fast — megumi's parents had already crossed the gate, along with tsumiki who was closely followed by suguru and his kids. uncle ogi, your mom, maki and mai had all stepped back to watch them leave.
though they'd be back after the four weeks, it only just hit you like a whiplash how different your summer would be. you spent most of your time with megumi, and if not with him, then with the rest of this family, coming up with crazy adventures that even yuji and nobara would tag along with. the friday night dinners that was a weekly routine for everyone would be abolished temporarily, because they were always held at satoru's place and he'd be gone on this vacation.
tsumiki wouldn't be able to help you with your homework (or rather, do it herself) when megumi would refuse to over the phone. you wouldn't be able to gossip with megumi's mom as often either, nor bother megumi's dad in your free time with satoru.
you could hardly turn around to find megumi before you stumbled back at how close he'd randomly appeared behind you.
"don't miss me too much," you said, to cover up how he practically scared your soul out of your body a second ago.
"don't blow up my phone," he shot back, a small jab at how even the distance between your homes was too far for you, resulting in the spamming of his phone with memes and random texts.
your shoulders dropped with a sigh.
"i'm going to miss you," you said at last, and if it wasn't going to be him, you'd break the ice yourself and cut to the chase.
megumi's lips parted as if to say something back. you didn't wait for his response, stepping forward and doing something you'd never actually done before:
you hugged him.
and it didn't feel forced. it certainly didn't feel awkward. megumi, despite his cold exterior, held this warmth around him that you felt touch your skin when your arms wrapped around his neck and you stood on the tips of your toes to be able to rest your chin on his shoulder. if you'd known this earlier, perhaps there would have been several hugs that would have happened sooner.
relishing in the feeling of his presence felt good just as much as it felt bittersweet. it wasn't as though you'd never see him again, you knew that he'd be back; it was the fact that since you met him several years ago, you unknowingly lost the ability to function without him.
it felt stupid to even think about. you were certain he didn't feel the same way — you didn't really care much if that was true.
your porcupine would probably grow another few inches over the weeks he'd be away from you, and you wouldn't be able to fuss and throw a tantrum about it in his presence.
megumi's hands had remained motionless for the next few seconds, seemingly confused about their position. you felt the gentle touch of his hands just above your waist and nearly laughed at his hesitation. you had half a mind to tease him about it, but felt that time (or lack thereof) was on his side.
"you better bring back lots of candy," you said, smiling into his shoulder. "the kind that we don't have here, okay?"
"you'll get a cavity," you heard him murmur.
you grinned.
"we'll get a cavity," you corrected, pulling away and staring up at him with wide eyes. "you'll be eating them with me, porcupine."
he raised a hand and flicked your forehead. you expected it. you let him do it (and that would be the first and last time you'd ever allow it to happen). when he muttered 'dumb mermaid' under his breath, you didn't step on his foot or pull his hair or even twist his ear. although the voice at the back of your head encouraged you to cause a scene, you thought that your family had already caused enough damage and drama. the security guard's face in the corner of the room told you exactly how exasperating that already was. there was no need to make his job even harder than it already was.
you stepped aside as a silent opening for megumi to finally leave. he made his way towards the gate, carrying his suitcase with him.
"megumi," you called out to him.
he looked over at you without hesitation, cheeks slightly pink. you couldn't blame him, the summer heat was almost unbearable.
you scratched the back of your neck.
"can you just hurry up and go? i'm getting this intrusive thought about going past the gate."
he scowled at you. he didn't know why he expected anything different.
"you can't."
"exactly," you said, as though it were the most clearest thing. "but i absolutely will —"
"m/n —" he said calmly, your mother immediately responding by wrapping her arms around your neck from behind you.
"go on, megumi," she told him.
he joined satoru, who had been waiting for him to finish his goodbye session with you, silent throughout it all. it was odd for his character, really. satoru was the loudest and most disruptive person you knew yet he never once intervened with your conversation with megumi. or maybe he was just distracted with the picture of that pretty woman on his phone, who knows?
"you were taking years," you heard satoru tell his godson. "i think my whites were starting to turn into greys —"
there was a pause as satoru peered down at megumi, his glasses easily sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head.
"hey," he began, with innocent curiosity, "why are you so red?"
"shut up i'm hot," megumi snapped back, awfully defensive.
satoru's brows furrowed. he was used to megumi's bites. he found it all too amusing, enough for him to force it out of him on purpose. he knew he was successful when megumi would resort to barking at the height of his anger... however, this time, he was barely trying to aggravate him. this came as a surprise.
but when satoru thought about it — really thought about it — he found it as satisfying as putting the two final pieces of a puzzle together, as amusing as the click of the charging wire being pushed into his phone, as fascinating as colour co-ordinated books on a library shelf.
and he found it funny as hell.
"oh," he said at first, getting used to the idea before it really hit him, like the soccer he'd accidentally kicked into the face several years ago of a special girl he knows. "OHHH —"
"shut up," growled megumi, glaring at satoru with a sideways glance, not fully staring up at him head on like he usually would because he was embarrassed.
megumi fushiguro was actually embarrassed! what beautiful thing had satoru done in his past life to witness such a thing?
"i see now —"
megumi wanted to snap satoru's neck. "i'll hurt you," he threatened sharply.
but satoru was in his own world, grinning like a maniac and showing off his pearly whites. "megumi has a cr—"
"kfc."
satoru nearly broke down right there and then. megumi thought it served him right, meddling in business that wasn't his. teasing him about something he'd never actually thought off.
it was safe to say that satoru had remained angry at him for the rest of the flight (he even developed an attitude towards suguru, who was left utterly confused with the random change in mood from his best friend).
megumi had never loved the silent treatment more that day.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
bonus scene:
the family returned from their vacation on a friday but were so jet lagged, they spent all of that day and the next sleeping off with no contact. it was on a special sunday that everyone had gathered at megumi's house to reunite, share gifts and experiences, and become one again. even your dad had come back from his travelling spree and brought back a ton of stuff for the rest of the family to go through.
megumi had brought over the candy he'd promised, along with a lot of other stuff he discovered over the course of the four weeks he was gone for. currently, it was being held captive by toji who was refusing to give them to you until you 'behaved' — whatever the hell that meant.
so to take your mind off of that (you planned on retrieving them later anyway) mimiko and nanako had showed you all the pictures they'd taken of megumi as promised. going through them with tsumiki and his mom by the kitchen was the funniest thing. somehow, one of the twins had managed to draw a moustache on him while he was asleep. you had a feeling that the morning after wasn't very pleasant.
but after going through everything and having lots and lots of conversations about what everyone got up to over the summer, you'd grown antsy and restless over the things toji was keeping from you.
enough was enough.
"can i have my gifts now?" you said, eyeing the possessive hand he'd placed over your box of unknown things.
he regarded you with a look of annoyance.
"no," he answered coldly.
"why not?" you whined, desperate.
he was sporting a glass of alcohol. perhaps he was just drunk and taking whatever anger he'd gotten from his testosterone out on you.
"you changed your ways yet, kid?" he questioned vaguely.
you looked around, clueless and in shock. why was no one coming to your aid? couldn't they see how unjust and odd this was? what the hell was he even talking about?
"what does that even mean?" you said loudly, gaining the attention of the rest of the family around you.
"you're not getting anything till you start fixing that attitude, brat," he decided, firm. "looks like you never will though, so you'll get it when pigs fly."
you tilted your head at him, mildly confused.
"but you just got off a plane two days ago."
every bit of chatter had died down, silence radiating around the large room. someone could drop a pin on the floor and the sound would simply echo tumultuously. even mimiko and nanako, who were both always engrossed in their phones, had glanced up to pay attention. you could only hear the sound of toji's loud breaths. when you met his gaze, you thought he looked like someone had pissed in his cereal.
there was a snort from somewhere behind you. if you had to guess, it was probably from satoru, though you wouldn't be too surprised if it actually turned out to be suguru or even mai.
stupefied, stunned, and shocked, toji lifted your gift, enclosed in messy wrapping paper, and threw it out of the window, all without ungluing his eyes from yours.
you didn't question the first action that came to your mind. running to the window to throw yourself after it, ignoring the yells of your family and the arms that had held you back once you'd made your jump — your father's, you'd noticed, when he laughed at your foolishness instead of scolding you.
everyone had turned to scolding toji instead:
"seriously, toji?" his wife said, expression grave. "did you have to go that far?"
"you know she'd go and dive after it," your mom added with a pressing look.
toji grimaced. "since when did you care about anything?"
"since my daughter nearly threw herself out of an open window with no protective gear on —"
and all the while, you lingered at the back of the room with your gift unwrapped, grimacing when satoru rubbed your head in praise for coming up with a response as 'sick as that' — his words, not yours.
the joke continued to exist, even after several months. toji never lived down the day that you had made him look a fool in front of several people. some things just never change.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
notes: spam ty in the chat rn bitches
previous chapter :)
next chapter :)
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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)
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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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mochinomnoms · 6 months
Note
Does all of Coral Sea know of Floyd and Jades future mates? Cause I was wondering if they made a public “announcement ” of them to where maybe others know now not to get too close or else potentially suffer under their wrath. Or is it a more only family friends/family know like in Tony, Azul and Aspens case?
-🧀anon
Hmm, I'm assuming this is referencing PTM right? No, they don't announce it. Really, they don't mean for the people closest to them to be aware of their feelings. But it's quite noticible when one of the twins gets a crush.
Floyd will talk a lot about something once it's caught his interest. My people with the tism will understand, it's like when you get a hyperfixation and can't stop thinking or talking about it? Floyd's like that. When the others hear him gush about Riddle, about how funny he is, how small and cute he is, how Riddle kicked his ass their first meeting, everyone just assumed he would lose interest within a few weeks. Maybe months even. But Floyd's interest in Riddle has persisted…much longer than anything else he's ever been interested in. And his comments become less teasing and more soft, talking about how cool Riddle looked riding his horse, how he changed his tie into a bow, how he's been eating more sweets like tarts as of late. Then it turns into, "didja know that Goldfishie really likes strawberries? He just eats them up!" or "Goldfishie's real smart, I bet I could get away with asking him to tutor me to hang out. Nah I don't need it, I just want to mess with him." or even "I saw Goldfishie in the infirmary the other day, he was sleeping. He looks really pretty, peaceful like that." But the real thing that made everyone realize that there was something more is when he started referring to Riddle by name in his comments. Actual names are reserved for people he actually cares about, people that he would want to make an effort for to know them and their names. Just like how Azul is Azul, not Lil Octy, Riddle is Riddle, not just Goldfishie in his eyes.
Jade is surprisingly less subtle. It might be because be doesn't normally rant to people about his fixations, only going off in tangents once in a while. So when he starts talking about Yuu, it's immediately noticeable. More so when he doesn't shut up about them. The difference between Floyd and Jade is that Jade is aware that the others know, Floyd thinks he's being slick with it. It's why Jade can take teasing from the others relatively well, he knows they know and is mostly fine with it. At least until one of them attempts to get involved for his sake. Floyd and Azul have offered to fabricate scenarios, make comments, and help push Yuu to him. Usually in exchange for him doing something, or to stop growing his mushrooms in certain areas of the dorm. Aspen and Tony are the opposite, Aspen especially willing to get Yuu into scenarios that would make them unattractive or unavailable in Jade's eyes. Most recently, this we see this in the last chapter when Aspen is pushing Wynfred to go out with Yuu. Jade's not happy about it, Yuu is embarrassed, and Aspen is just trying his best to get Jade for himself. Tony eventually gets dragged into any trouble that Aspen gets himself into, willingly or not. Though, he is prone to gossip with Floyd and listen to his rambles about Riddle. He's surprisingly insightful, though that would require Floyd to listen to his advice.
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sp4ceboo · 19 days
Text
CHAPTER 4 ~ PESTILENCE
beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5
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pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader
genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance
a/n: words cannot describe how excited i am for the next chapter
chapter warnings: fighting but not violent per se, excuse all the time skips there will be less later on i'm just setting everything up still, fun fact: all the sports facts about the boys are true (i hope),
chapter word count: 2.3k
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More weeks pass. It’s almost been two months since the first horseman landed on his ship.
Your leg is healing. Under Minho’s strict commands, you stay in most of the time, which means you have to sit around inside the lab a lot, making conversation with whoever isn’t on a supply run (if that’s what’s happening) and not doing much else. It turns out it is possible to get bored in the middle of an apocalypse.
You can’t get your head around Jeongin. The rest of the boys baby him - he is the youngest, after all - and he is friendly at times, if not a little wary at others, but you see the strength that limns his limbs and wonder why he doesn’t often go on supply runs like Chan, Minho and Seungmin. You suspect he’s been ordered to watch you and make sure you don’t do anything weird while the others are gone and you’re left with whoever is staying back, but while he’s been doing that he’s found a friend in you.
Aside from Jeongin, mainly Jisung, Felix, Hunjin and Changbin stay back. You soon learn that the reason why Changbin stays back is for their protection, and that Hyunjin, Jisung and Felix don’t usually go out because seeing the world as it is takes a toll on them that the others are willing to shoulder in their stead, not because they aren’t lacking in skills.
That’s not to say it doesn’t affect Minho, Chan and Seungmin - you’ve woken up in the night to hear rustling blankets to your left and Minho spilling what’s on his heart to Jisung. You closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep again to grant them their privacy.
Interestingly, the main thing the stay-at-home gang does while supply runs are happening is spar or work out. You suppose there isn’t much to do other than read the small selection of books and comics Jisung dragged back one day, and the working out at least helps rehabilitate your calf as it heals. The sparring provides a surprising amount of entertainment.
Changbin runs a tight ship. It also turns out that Felix somehow managed to amass sixty three taekwondo medals while he was younger, Chan did boxing, and Minho did both. You stick to sparring with Jisung and Jeongin and sometimes Seungmin.
Normally, it’s fun. Normally, you wouldn’t blanch at the sight of Jeongin circling you on the blankets laid out specifically for this purpose, but you are, because there’s a dull throbbing in the back of your head - the beginnings of a headache. Still, you’re not going to back down. Your pride prevents it.
You feint to the right, and Jeongin takes the bait. It allows an opening, and you take it, lunging forward and hooking your foot around the back of his legs. He crashes to the floor - you send him a cheeky grin.
“Ohhh,” Jisung gasps from where he’s sitting on the “sidelines”.
Jeongin twists and rolls, earning a small round of applause from Changbin when he snags your sleeve and brings you down too. Scrabbling for purchase in the blankets, you grapple with him, both of you trying to flip so the other is beneath. You can hear Changbin counting down - once he reaches zero, you’ll be able to try and grab the piece of paper taped on his back and claim your victory.
You need to get the upper hand, and fast. Jeongin’s taller and has longer reach, so it will be easier for him to grab your paper. Locking a leg around his hip, you abruptly change the direction of the roll, just as Changbin reaches zero; both of you gasp, and Jeongin kicks out with his leg, dislodging you and whirling around to sock you in the stomach, knocking the air out of you.
“Quit playing dirty, Yang Jeongin!” Changbin yells.
With a groan, you push yourself to your feet. You can’t tell if somewhere in the whole mess, you hit your head or if it’s just the building pressure at the base of your neck from the headache. Jeongin looks a little concerned. You brush yourself off. You’re not going to let him go easy on you just because he feels guilty for punching you.
Focusing on his centre of mass, you try to predict where he’s going to strike next. You see his gaze flick left, his right shoulder dipping. A low whistle sounds from Seungmin - he can see what Jeongin is going to do.
So do you.
He lurches left and charges. You stand your ground, as, at the last second, Jeongin ducks right and aims for the paper on your back. Leaning to the side, you barely avoid his grasp and stick your leg out, tripping him so he goes sprawling.
Before he can recover, you plant a foot on his back and reach down to swipe his paper. He struggles against you, trying to get up - it’s never over until it’s over, as Jisung said one time when Minho and Changbin sparred for half an hour non stop - but it’s a lost cause. You’re strong enough to keep him down.
Well, you’re strong enough when your head isn’t getting split like a melon.
Because that’s what it feels like - the building pressure from the headache detonating in your skull, ricocheting bolts of pain spearing through your thoughts and whiting out your vision. Your legs turn to jelly. Abruptly, Jeongin surges up, not expecting you to suddenly let up the pressure, let alone topple to the floor.
He snatches the paper off your back, but you barely notice it, battling a swelling nausea that rises like bile in your chest. Frowning, he crouches before you and searches your face. Briefly, you wonder if your calf has gotten infected, but Minho deftly changes the bandages every other morning with his sure hands and assessing gaze, and he reported nothing - in fact, he said you wouldn’t need to wrap it soon.
“Are you okay?” Jeongin asks as he helps you up, that frown of his overflowing with worry.
“Yeah,” you say, wondering why you’re lying. “It’s just my leg.”
He opens his mouth, clearly about to argue, but there’s a kerfuffle outside, and Minho enters the room, triumphantly brandishing a vacuum-packed container of pudding. It’s rare for his smile not to morph into something more threatening when he sees you, but he seems too happy to care about that now, holding the pudding above his head like a trophy as Chan laughs and Hyunjin rolls his eyes with a fond smile.
You really don’t want to interrupt the happy moment. You don’t want to ruin their joy, but you can feel fear bubbling up in your throat and filling your lungs as you realise you’re not tired or dehydrated or hungry. There’s no other explanation for your headache except the one thing you dread: a lone rider, seated on a white horse, with a bow and arrow wielded in its hands.
Pestilence.
As if thinking the name invoked it, a surge of intense vertigo swamps you. Swaying, you flail out a hand, reaching for anything to steady yourself, but there’s nothing nearby, and you stumble one step, two, backwards, before your legs crumple beneath you and you sit down hard. A cough wracks your body, followed by another wave of overwhelming nausea.
Muted pain radiates from your tailbone, but you ignore it. It doesn’t make sense: you haven’t been outside since the dog bite, and that was more than a month ago. Even if you did get it from the dog, it would have shown itself earlier, wouldn’t it?
You guess most things don’t make sense any more.
Unbidden, an image of the first horseman appears in your head - the horse has sprouted wings, and both have shrunk so they’re about the size of your head as they flap around you. You almost feel the sting as the arrow sinks into your back, deep enough that it touches your heart.
With far more effort than it should take, you look up at the boys. They’re already all looking at you, and you feel your hands begin to tremble. Felix is looking at you with this sort of horror that grows and grows, and Minho has stepped in front of Jisung and Hyunjin, gripping his knife so hard that his knuckles are whiter than the pale shade Jeongin’s face has gone. Changbin curses. Seungmin remains silent but stares. Chan looks like he wants to take a step towards you.
You look up at him, imploring. “I - I don’t feel so good.”
Minho speaks first, voice sharp enough to be accusatory. “Yeah, we can tell.”
You bite your lip, fighting to force your words out before you lose it completely. “You have to go. Just leave me behind, or drag me out of here and put me somewhere. You - ” You clutch your head, fighting another pulse of pain. “You need to save yourselves.”
A stunned silence follows, and then the whole room erupts. You wince as they all begin yelling over each other. You can tell it’s serious because Chan is shouting too, not trying to restore order but arguing with Minho.
It occurs that they’re acting like you’re not there. There’s no surprise in that, really, but it means that you can hear Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin sticking up for you, as well as Changbin and Jeongin, which you weren’t expecting. A half laugh slips from you as you see Minho’s still holding the pudding, but it dies on your tongue, leaving a sour taste.
You’ve got the Pestilence. You’re probably going to kill them all.
This is a glimpse, you realise, of what they’re like when they don’t agree. The harmony has dissolved, and it’s your fault. You’ve never seen them so stressed. Chan’s practically tearing out his hair, and for the first time, from your spot on the bucking floor, trying to cling on so it doesn’t tip you off the edge of the world, you notice his deep eye bags.
There’s a flurry of movement, and suddenly Minho has grabbed Jisung’s arm, his gaze glittering with panic as he shakes him a little, like he’s trying to force some sense into him. You can see the veins in his neck begin to stand out, and even with Changbin and Chan snapping at each other, you hear his words clear as day.
“There’s no way she’ll survive,” he seethes. “Do you really want to stay and watch her die? Because I don’t.”
You flinch. Jisung’s eyes are on you. He looks like a cornered rabbit. Chan’s head snaps to glare at them when he hears Minho, and the livid expression on his face strikes you through with sinking fear. You don’t want them to fight, especially not over you, but you can’t raise your voice over a trembling whisper.
Changbin scrubs a frustrated hand over his face, trying to separate Chan and Minho. Felix is trapped between Hyunjin and Seungmin, looking just as cornered as Jisung. You want to fix it, want to get up and yell at them to stop and just go, but all you do is double over and cough. Useless.
All at once, everyone falls silent.
Jeongin is pointing out the window, his lips moving, but you can’t hear over the roaring in your ears. Painfully, you turn your head to see what they’re all staring at, and you choke so hard you begin to cough again. A ship is whizzing upwards. You know that ship, even though it looks like all the others, because only one ship ever landed on the surface.
Pestilence’s ship.
Pestilence is leaving.
As the ship moves up to join the others hanging in the violent red sky, you cough again. The boys’ gazes all fall to you, huddled on the floor, and determination streaks across Chan’s face. He pulls his masks out of his pocket, donning all of them and shaking off Minho when he roughly grabs his shoulder.
Helpless, you look up at him, wanting to cry. You don’t know what this means. You can barely think. There are claws sinking into your brain, razorlike pinpoints of agony, and your ribs ache from coughing.
Gently, he cups your chin and produces a water bottle, helping you drink. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “You’ll be fine here. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable, okay? We’re not leaving you.”
You nod, trying to remember why you wanted them to go before. Consciousness is slipping through your fingers like sand. Shadows swirl and twirl like dancers at the corners of your eyes, and you flap your hand to dismiss them, but they dart out of your way and inch closer, the detail on their faces smudged but for rictus grins matching Pestilence’s.
Chan holds the water bottle up again. You grip his wrist before he can lift it to your lips, stopping him, opening your mouth to ask a question that doesn’t form. The shadows are closing in, and you stare up at him, terrified, as his face transmogrifies into that of the first horseman; you try to scramble backwards, but there are shackles around your feet, and the shadows are holding you down. You can’t get away.
They won’t go.
Why won’t they go?
And then he’s Chan again, and Minho stands at his shoulder, eyes resigned. Someone smooths their hand over your sweaty hair, and there’s the softness of blankets beneath you and a low, calming voice in your ear. You don’t feel calm, though. The shadows are still there, prowling.
They’re hungry.
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taglist: @estella-novella@0bticeo@lixies-favorite-cookie@smashleywow@realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 (let me know if you want to be added)
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shycoconutt · 5 months
Text
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The Fallout
pairings: gojo satoru x reader (gojo pov)
synopsis: your best friend, gojo satoru, comes back from a mission to find out that nanami kento has resigned from being a sorcerer and has left you.
content: (2.5 k), SFW, comfort, fluff, and whole lot of angst. ex-boyfriend? nanami, best friend gojo, and brother geto. contains jjk anime spoilers.
a/n: and here we have the ripple effect series! this is the aftermath of this fic. i’m going to continuing writing this story over time so strap in y’all! staying away from chapters as we'll be jumping around the timeline.
<3
Although he would never be quick to admit it, Gojo Satoru loves being home. Even with all of the memories that flood his mind as he walks through familiar spaces — hallways, classrooms, the gymnasium, the sparing field, the courtyard — many are all too painful to think about for too long, but he can’t help but indulge in the familiarity. Satoru is not quite sure if he has ‘loved-ones’, but the people that are close to him, those that could potentially fill that void, he knows are here at Jujutsu Tech.
On his way home from a week-long mission, Satoru knew who to look for first, as he owed two specific sorcerers a very happy graduation. He didn’t know how exactly he was going to go about it at first. Obviously he would try to give Nanami a hug, no wait, maybe he will leap into his arms and shower his face with kisses. No, he wouldn’t be able to get that far before Nanami shoves him off. Maybe he shouldn’t scare him off, as it was highly likely that Nanami would become his right-hand man.
You, on the other hand, were a little different. Satoru couldn’t help but think about you every moment he was gone, as he couldn’t shake the guilt of him, your best friend, not being there for your graduation ceremony. The moment the mission paperwork was placed on his desk, he cursed the higher-ups for being so careless. The smile you gave him in reassurance that you understood only made him feel worse.
Making his way inside the main building, Satoru can’t help but notice the lack of cursed energy around. He feels you somewhere in the distance, in your dorm maybe? Are you alone?
He feels the familiar cursed energy of another quickly approaching, and turns to give Yaga a quick wave and a smile as he turns around the corner. Although Satoru’s eyes are currently covered in white wrapping, his six eyes allow him to see Yaga’s puzzled expression clearly.
“Gojo,” Yaga approaches him quickly, and Satoru begins to worry that he’s going to be sent out on a mission just as quickly as he returned, “you’re back, good.��
“What is it?” Satoru is worried, but his tone doesn’t reveal it, “You sound more serious than usual, I didn’t know that was possible.”
Satoru notices the way Yaga nervously pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and how his eyes are focused on the wood floor beneath their feet. Whatever this is, it’s not good.
“Some… events have transpired since you’ve been gone,” he starts, “have you heard the news?”
“I-uh.. no, I haven’t.” What on earth could this be about now? Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, a terrible thought crossing his mind, “Everyone is okay right?”
“Everyone is safe, Satoru, don’t worry about that.”
Satoru notices how he replaces the word okay with safe.
“I’m surprised she didn’t contact you,” Yaga begins, “I’m afraid I have some news about what transpired after graduation.”
Satoru stays silent, letting him continue.
Scratching the back of his head, Yaga lets out a deep sigh before speaking, “Nanami Kento has resigned. He is no longer a sorcerer and has vowed to not use any cursed energy any longer. He had a meeting with me before the ceremony, said that he would graduate, but his time with us would end there. He’s going to return to… normal life. We were told to not try and contact him, which includes you, Gojo.”
Instinctually, Satoru unravels the wrapping around his eyes, needing to be able to see everything, to absorb all the information. This couldn’t be.
He first looks for Nanami. No, he’s not here on campus, he’s somewhere else, he’s in… Kabutocho?
His eyes shift to you, pinpointing you more directly than he did before. Yes, you’re here. In your room, on your bed, in the fetal position, alone.
Alone.
Satoru feels a familiar pang in his chest. His grip tightens around the white fabric in his grasp, threatening to stain red.
Him. Yaga. In the hallway. A decision made without him, without considering what he’d have to say. What he could’ve done to make it better. How he could’ve helped. How he could have made him stay. Why didn’t he stay?
“I’m sorry, Gojo, but it was his decision, and he has the right to have the final say over his own life.” Yaga’s words are softer, trying to calm him down.
“To hell he does!”
-
Satoru slowly makes his way to your room, taking his time to gather his thoughts, not exactly sure what he plans to say to you. He tries to think back to before, the days and weeks after Suguru left. That situation was much different, so many layers, so many people affected by the loss. Although it’s hard to imagine, if anyone was hurt more than himself by Suguru's actions, it was you.
It was so much worse for you.
Suguru Geto, in an act of self righteousness, slaughtered his own parents, who were your own parents. A brother and sister who once shared the same home, the same beliefs and sentiments, the same blood, only to have one betray the other in one of the worst ways imaginable.
You tried to stop him, but you were weak then. When they found you, you were sprawled out on the floor unconscious in a pool of your parents blood. All of your limbs were broken, and you had severe head trauma. The only reason why you were still alive was because you were a sorcerer. Suguru would have finished the job otherwise.
When Satoru heard the news, and confronted Suguru on the street that day, all he had to say about the state he left you in had Satoru reeling.
“She’s a damn fool.”
Shoko spent days healing you, and you were in recovery for weeks. Satoru would visit, but no words would be exchanged. You already knew what the other was thinking. From then on, Satoru vowed to always take care of you, but he didn’t anticipate how close you two would become in the process.
Maybe it was a trauma bond, maybe it was just growing up, either way, he cherishes your friendship completely. You were like Suguru in so many ways, all of the good ones at least.
That’s probably why he was so quick to notice the way Nanami would look at you, the way he would act around you. How every word spoken to you was underlined with want. Much like the way he himself would act around Suguru.
So why? Why the hell would he leave you too?
Finally, he makes it to your door. Not sensing any movement, he figures it’s best to let himself in quietly.
It’s midday, but the room is so dark. Your curtains are drawn and the lights are off. Just a small sliver of light makes its way through, the line resting over your body on the bed in the corner of your room and up the wall of posters. Your eyes are closed, but Satoru’s gut tells him you’re not sleeping.
He steps closer, letting the door close behind him with a faint click. That’s when your eyes quickly snap open to find Satoru at the end of your bed.
Your eyes are bloodshot. There are black smudges over your eyelids, makeup probably. Your hair is a mess. And you're wearing… a dress?
Oh. Oh darling. It’s been days.
Satoru can’t help the way his head tilts to the side when he meets your gaze.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, trying his best not to let his despair for you seep through.
That’s when he sees it, the accumulation of the past three days, and maybe even a bit of your past, boils and bubbles out of you.
“Toru,” your nickname for him falls from your mouth in a gasp, then you start to sob. He watches as you curl into yourself more, gripping your sheets tighter to your chest.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Satoru moves around the bed and leans over you, fingers brushing the hair from your face to get a better look, “shhhhhhhhhh, hey, shhhhh, it’s alright, it’s going to be okay.”
His heart breaks for you. This world, being a sorcerer, is often so cruel. He just doesn’t understand why it always has to be you on the receiving end.
Satoru watches as you look up to meet his concerned stare, and he can’t help but notice how similar you two look. It’s not specifically your features that remind him of Suguru, it’s how you try so hard to hide your emotions behind your usual calm facade. When his eyes meet yours, he can tell how hard you're trying to shove your pain back inside you. For who’s sake? He’s still unsure.
Satoru was too dumb, too caught up in ensuring he became ‘the greatest’ to notice how far Suguru had fallen from grace. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Kneeling down on the floor of your bedside, he rests his head on the mattress, face inches from yours. His fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks in your eyes.
“Yaga told me what happened,” he starts, “I wish you would have called me, but I understand why you didn’t. I just got back not too long ago, I was expecting to find you two together.”
Finally, you speak again.
“Did he… did he say anything to you about leaving?” Your eyes leave Satoru’s as you ask this, probably afraid of what you might hear. Gojo smiles internally at the way you begin to fiddle with the end of his sleeve.
“No,” Satoru’s tone is unwavering, “he never said anything to me about leaving. I’m led to believe that this is a decision he made in his mind not too long ago.”
Satoru and Nanami were not close, per se. But Satoru knows him to be a good man, and he would have never strung you along like this if he knew he was leaving from the jump.
At least, that’s what he hopes.
He watches as your body relaxes a little, sinking deeper into your mattress. He knows that you’re probably not ready to talk about everything just yet, and that’s more than okay. What wasn’t okay was that state you’re in right now.
“I know this is the last thing you want to do, but how about I take you to the showers?” His hand comes up from the ends of your hair to cradle the top of your head.
“Do I really smell that bad?” you fake pout. Your lips curl up just enough to relieve just a little of Satoru’s worries.
“Ha, no, I just think it would make you feel better.”
“Hm, yeah okay.”
Satoru gives you space as you rise up from bed, walking to your drawers to pull out some new clothes to wear. He notices how you dig far down into the drawer, obviously looking for something specific. His heart sinks when you pull out a familiar pair of large black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
How strange that we still find comfort in those who have hurt us the most.
Satoru walks with you to the communal showers, leading you just a step ahead with his hands in his pockets. His head hurts a little from having his blindfold off for so long, but he doesn’t want to put it on just yet. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know that you have the floor to be vulnerable with him, to look him in the eyes and know you have his undivided attention.
Satoru hears you softly clear your throat before speaking.
“What are you going to do now?” you ask timidly.
Please don’t leave me yet. That’s what Satoru knows you really mean.
He thinks for a moment.
“Well since I just got back, I think I’ll have a quick shower as well, get this curse stench off of me. Then, I'm going to take Megumi and Tsumiki out to dinner since I haven’t seen them in a week. Probably check up on their place too, restock the fridge and whatnot.”
Satoru watches as you shift in your stance a little, hugging your fresh clothes to your chest.
“Of course, they will want to see you. If you’re up for it.”
Your face lights up, just a little. Good.
The kids, especially Megumi, are absolutely smitten with you. Ever since Satoru told you that he became the benefactor of two young kids, one to be sold off to the Zenin, you asked him if you could tag along to visit them.
Saying yes was the best thing he’d ever done, because he quickly realized that he’s kind of a terrible parental figure. He handles the finances and the fun, you take care of everything else. You help them with their homework, brush their hair, pick out their clothes, cuddle them, read them stories, teach them how to cook, and so much more. Although you both are relatively young yourselves, you’re like their parents.
Heck, after this, Satoru thinks it might be best to get you out of living at Jujutsu High. He’ll buy a house for you and the kids, so you can all be together. Yeah, it might be weird in the future if you bring a romantic interest home, but you can cross that bridge when you get there.
“Yeah, I want to see them. It will help take my mind off things.”
“Then it’s settled,” Satoru playfully claps his hands together, “we’ll hit the showers, change, and head out of here.”
Satoru turns on his heels, but before he starts to walk away, he feels you grab him by the elbow. Turning his head back at you with a confused look, your eyes are shield by the hair fallen in front of your face. In one swift movement, you’re hugging him from behind, one arm wrapped around his torso, holding him close.
“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you mumble into the fabric of his jacket.
Satoru places his hand over yours.
“I’ll always be here for you, sweets.”
-
Both of you walk together in matching sweats, owned by the man who once was the only thing you had in common, towards the apartment. It is late afternoon, the sun now behind the mountains to the west. It’s warm with a light breeze in the air. If circumstances weren’t as they were, you’d be so happy right now.
The silence was nice, comforting. You look over to watch Satoru’s hair ruffle in the breeze, getting a whiff of his sickly, sugary-scented vanilla shampoo.
It crosses your mind for a moment how thankful you are that he’s here with you right now. Without him, you’d still be rotting in bed, picturing the back of Nanami’s head as he walked away from you in the courtyard that day.
Nanami.
Your heart lurches a little. You bring your hand up to your chest, clutching the fabric there.
As if on cue, you feel Satoru’s arm sling over your shoulders, holding you closer to him as you walk side by side.
Right, Satoru’s here and you’re content.
Content is all you need.
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writeforfandoms · 10 months
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Run Wild 4
Find the series masterlist
I apologize for the long wait on this one - between life stuff and the chapter fighting me, it's been longer than I intended. This is a nice long chapter though to help make up for it.
Things are going well and you're settling into the pack... and then the three of you get sent on a survival training refresher. Just the three of you. Alone in the woods. For three days. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Warnings: Swearing, animal death (unspecified fish and birds), yearning, shifter behaviors, pack behaviors, allusions to sex and intimacy, brief mention of blood.
Word count: 3.6k
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Horangi healed just fine from the gunshot. Of course he did. It didn’t even take long - less than a week. König did, in fact, fuss over him, which you got to witness a couple times. It was pretty funny, at least from the outside. 
But you did make a mental note not to get injured. You didn’t need someone fussing over you that way. 
You’d spent the morning and part of the afternoon doing other tasks, since you didn’t actually get to spend all your time with your pack. Which was fine. You’d been without a pack for a long time, you didn’t need one to function. 
But even so, once you were dismissed, you headed back to the pack room. You wanted to see if they were around, maybe pester Horangi into some pool time now that he was allowed to shift again. 
You paused outside the door. Something was different. Head tilted, you listened for anything unusual, but all was quiet, but for a very faint rumble. 
You poked just your head around the door. 
Horangi and König were on the bigass couch (a LoveSac, König had told you once), neither of them facing the door. You noted Horangi’s missing sunglasses first. Then the flash of König’s hair, auburn longer than you would have expected. 
Then the smell hit you. Even with the window open, it was easy for you to smell that they’d been intimate. 
You backed off immediately, unwilling to disturb whatever peaceful bubble the two had. 
You weren’t quite embarrassed - you hadn’t caught them in the middle of it, at least. And with your sense of smell, this was far from the first time you’d smelled this on someone. Friends. People you knew. 
(Looking back on it, you continued to be a little amazed you survived basic without anyone knowing you were a shifter.)
No, the most confusing part was that you weren’t vaguely grossed out. Far from it, really.
You wanted to investigate, nose around, see how this changed their normal scents. 
Nope. Nope nope nope. Not happening. You shook your head, hard, trying to knock the thoughts out too. 
You were absolutely not attracted to your two packmates. Nope. Not happening. 
You threw yourself at the obstacle course for a good hour, working to beat your record. It was a good distraction - you couldn’t just rely on muscle memory, you had to pay attention. 
It wasn’t until you had sprawled out on the ground, panting, trying to get your breath back enough to go shower, that anyone bothered you. 
“Have fun?” 
The semi-sarcastic question made you lift your head to look at Horangi, the alpha standing off to the side. His sunglasses were back on, was the first thing you noticed. 
“What’s up?” You asked instead of answering his question. You pushed yourself up to sitting, not quite willing to lay prone in front of him. Not after what you’d almost walked in on earlier. 
“We’ve got a refresher on wilderness survival,” Horangi drawled, voice flat. But he didn’t smell angry. Hm. “The three of us.”
Oh. Oh boy. Three or so days living in the wilderness with the two of them. 
This was definitely going to go wrong, somehow. 
“When are we leaving?” You’d have to pack up a few things. Not a lot, you usually weren’t allowed a lot, but still. 
“Tomorrow morning, 0800.” 
“Got it.” You pushed up to your feet, absently brushing dirt off yourself. “See you in the morning, sir.” 
Horangi nodded once. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel his gaze on you, even as you turned away and headed inside. 
You resisted the urge to look back at him. 
Wilderness survival was honestly not hard. It wasn’t something you hated, either. You had done something similar with your dad many times.
Although when you’d done it with him, you’d both been shifted. It was a little easier to find natural shelter as a mink than as a human. 
This time, you had your two packmates with you, one on either side. The three of you got dropped in the middle of nowhere in a forest with a map, some basic supplies, and an exfil location. 
The first stretch of the hike was lovely. The weather was nice (for once), the sounds of the forest soothing, and even though you were walking with giants neither of them pushed the pace too hard. 
The sun was high in the sky by the time Horangi paused, consulting the map. You stayed back a bit, watching as König peered over the top of the alpha’s head at the map. 
You tipped your head back, enjoying the sunshine, the birds singing, the faint trickle of water…
Wait. Water?
Focused now, you turned a slow circle, trying to pinpoint where you heard the water coming from. You paused facing slightly away from Horangi and König. 
“I hear water,” you told the two of them, glancing over only to find them already watching you. You blinked, startled, and shifted your weight. 
“Lead on, then.” Horangi motioned you forward with a lazy wave of one hand. 
You eyed him for a moment, uncertain if he was being sincere or not. But he didn’t move, so you did. 
It was easy, picking a path through the forest. No major terrain changes, no gunfire to dodge. Just the peaceful noises around you… and your two packmates behind you. They were both quiet, impressively so considering how big they were (König moreso), but you could track them easily by sound alone, if you needed to. 
The sound of water grew louder until you paused at a stream. It wasn’t large, you could jump it if you wanted, but it was moving fast and clear. A good source of water was an excellent start. 
“This should empty into a lake,” Horangi said from behind you. “See if you can find it.”
You grinned over your shoulder at him and started walking parallel to the stream, moving a little faster with the lure of a lake. The light increased in intensity ahead of you, and you slowed right at the edge of the trees. 
The lake spread out in front of you, sunlight sparkling off the water. It was decent-sized, and looked deep. There were probably fish in there, and for a moment you longed to shuck your gear and jump in. 
It had been a long time since you’d gone fishing the proper way.
Reluctantly, you turned your back on the water to trot back to the other two. 
“Found the lake,” you told them, grinning. “It’s not far.”
Horangi nodded. “We’ll set up for the day there,” he agreed, nodding you forward again. 
Which meant fishing. Elated, you practically bounced back to the lake, ignoring the two of them behind you, both laughing. 
It didn’t take long to find a good camping spot, the two of them more than capable of setting up a temporary shelter for the three of you. (And it was for the three of you - when you mentioned finding a spot nearby, Horangi put his foot down and said it was better to stay together. You didn’t object. Pack cuddles sounded really nice.) 
You and König gathered tinder while the light was good, setting up a spot for a fire later. This part you really needed no help with - you’d done this enough. You had extra cotton balls and a fire starter in your bag for a reason, after all. 
“Dinner?” König asked, slanting a look at you that you could tell was amused, even with the hood still in the way.
You perked up, trying not to seem too desperate. “I could fish?” 
Horangi looked at you for a moment before he nodded once. You got the feeling he was amused, despite not being able to see his expression. 
You resisted the urge to buzz happily, instead trotting down closer to the lake. It took moments to pile your boots to one side, tossing your outer layers next to them, before you shifted and wriggled out of the rest of your clothes. 
The first dip into the water was perfect - a little cool (although your fur helped insulate you), clear, and beautiful. You spent a minute darting around, half searching for fish and half having fun. 
It had been far too long since you’d let yourself have fun like this. 
It didn’t take long to find fish, and you spent a few moments just watching them. The bigger fish were down near the bottom of the lake, which wasn’t too far, really. 
Three would probably do the job to feed you all. 
The first fish was the hardest. You had to remember how to grab it right to hang on and drag it out of the water. The fish, of course, didn’t make it easy. But you succeeded, even though the fish was bigger than you. 
You left it on the shore, far enough away from the water that it (probably) couldn’t flap itself back in, and dove back in to get the next fish. 
Except when you dragged this one up the shore, Horangi was handling the first fish, cleaning and prepping it. And it looked… not big in his hands. 
Hm. Maybe three wouldn’t be enough. 
“Leave it there,” Horangi said, gaze flitting to you. He’d removed his sunglasses at some point, letting you feel the full weight of his gaze.
You chittered at him, leaving the fish and diving back into the water.
But you didn’t stop at three fish. You caught two more, dragging the fifth fish up to Horangi before trotting away to shake yourself off at a polite distance. 
When you shifted back, you caught König looking at you from his spot by the fire. It was difficult to tell, between the distance and the fact that you were shoving yourself back into your clothes as fast as possible, but this look was… different. 
There was something different, anyway. Hell if you could pinpoint what. 
“Well done,” Horangi praised quietly, gaze flicking up to you before he picked up all the fish, which he’d cleaned. 
You fought down the urge to buzz. It didn’t translate as well when you were human, and it was weird. But you did wiggle, just a little, as you jogged after him to the fire to help cook. 
Sitting with the two of them while dinner cooked was… nice. Odd, but nice. They were both quiet by nature, which you didn’t mind. König kept giving you little looks, which you couldn’t decipher. But he didn’t say anything, so you figured it was just a him thing and left it alone. 
Horangi tested the first fish and deemed it edible, nodding to you. You picked one for yourself and settled in to eat, humming a little. This was nice. This was the kind of nice you could get used to.
Even though you shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be like this once the three of you finished this training. It would be back to the norm - eating by yourself in the mess, spending time with them in the pack room when you weren’t on duty. 
You shoved the thought down with your next bite of fish, swallowing hard. Focus on being hungry. That was safer. But you ate a little slower than the other two. They needed the extra fish. 
“Here.” König tore off a chunk of his second fish, putting it on your plate. 
“But–” You looked at him, eyes wide. 
Horangi clicked his tongue, and a second piece of fish got deposited on your plate. “Eat,” he ordered you. “We have plenty.”
A little chagrined and a little confused, you worked on the additional pieces. And. Okay. You knew they hadn’t meant it this way.
But they’d put their food on your plate. 
And your instincts were screaming, just a little. 
The rest of the night was quiet. König took your plates to wash, and you ended up lounging on your back by the fire, looking up at the stars twinkling through the treetops. 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”
You frowned. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. But… nothing catastrophic happened. Your packmates were both quiet, at least until Horangi sprawled out next to you. 
“Oh?” It was a gentle prod, but it was very much a prod. 
You pursed your lips, considering how to answer for a few moments. Then you sighed softly. “My parents used to take me out places like this. Wasn’t far off from what we’re doing, really.” 
Horangi chuffed softly. It sounded odd coming from a human throat but you still recognized it for acceptance. “Why did they stop?”
Your heart ached, and you shoved up to your feet. The stars held no appeal for you now. “That’s a story for another night.” You checked on the tarp for your shelter overnight, pushing your pack into a corner where it would keep dry. There wasn’t much else to do, really. 
So you shoved yourself into the corner next to your pack, curling up. That was as clear an indication that you weren’t going to talk as you could do. 
You didn’t manage to fall asleep until you felt Horangi and König settle down near you. 
You woke slowly, warmer than you'd expected to be. It got cold overnight out here, after all. But you weren't cold at all. 
A little confused, you patted around. Maybe one of them had given you an extra blanket? 
Your fingers met fur, warm and coarse. Hm. That was different. And nice. Nice and warm. 
Wait. Fur? 
Your eyes flew open and your breathing halted. You could see only part of an enormous bear curled around you and Horangi both. Horangi had his back to you, shoulders moving steadily with his breathing. 
Oh. Oh this was bad. First they put food on your plate, now this? Pack cuddles with one of them shifted, and the alpha trusting you with his back? 
Oh no. No no no. Nope. This was going to end so badly for you. 
You just needed to shove your feelings into a little box and stuff it away somewhere. That would work. You’d be fine. No problem. 
You tried to ease away from the two, only for König to rumble at you. The bear lifted his head to look at you, grumbling. 
“Hush,” you whispered, patting his fur. “Be right back.” 
He huffed at you but settled down again. This time he didn’t protest when you shuffled away, careful not to disturb Horangi. 
You moved a safe distance away before you sat, putting your head down in your hands. These two really needed to stop giving you mixed signals like this. 
Although, when you really thought about it… were they even mixed signals at this point? Or just signals you didn’t want to think about? 
You made a face at yourself and breathed in deep. Two more days of this and then it would be back to base. Back to business as usual. 
You could manage two more days.
One more deep breath, and you headed back to camp, the low light barely a problem for you. Sunlight was just peeking through the trees, the rest of the forest just waking up. 
Horangi was up when you got back to camp, and he simply nodded to you before breaking down camp. By the time the three of you were done and ready to move on, it was like you’d never been there at all. 
Horangi took the lead again, and you followed him while König took the rear. 
You were surprised again at how easy this was. The quiet between the three of you never felt strained. You never doubted that Horangi knew where you were going. König never snuck up behind you enough to spook you. 
If you wanted to be real honest with yourself… this was even better than camping with your parents had ever been. 
And not just because you were an adult and didn’t need to be watched all the time. 
These two were rapidly slipping under your skin, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. 
Especially when you all stopped to set up camp again and Horangi said he’d hunt for the three of you. König settled next to you in front of the fire, his knee knocking into yours. 
“You know much of the plant life here?” 
You blinked at the out of the blue question and shrugged. “Not really,” you admitted. “If I don’t recognize it, I don’t touch it.” 
“Good.” König nudged you with his knee again. “Come with me.”
Confused but not quite willing to push, you stood and followed him away from the fire. He didn’t take you far, though, instead crouching next to a tree to show you a plant. And then another. And another.
Before you knew it, you were side by side with him, peering over plants and doing your best to remember which ones were which. 
It was surprisingly fun, actually. You’d never given plants this much thought, but with König? It was fun. 
Hopefully he wouldn’t quiz you, though. 
“Here.” König pointed to a berry bush. “Gather these.”
You started picking berries, doing your best to avoid the thorns. König moved away, though you could still see him in your peripheral vision as he checked on the fire and brought over a dish for you to set the berries on. 
“How’d you learn all this?” you asked, half-distracted, trying to reach a juicy looking berry without having your hands cut to ribbons. 
König was silent for a few moments, shifting his weight next to you. “I learned as a boy,” he settled on. You had a feeling there was more to it than that, but you certainly weren’t going to push. 
“What do you think Horangi is bringing back?” 
König snorted, shoulders relaxing again. “Birds,” he said softly. “He likes birds.” 
You filed that little piece of information away, just in case. “Good to know.” You made a face when a thorn caught the tip of your finger, blood beading up against your skin. 
König clucked softly, catching your hand in one of his before you could pull away. “Careful,” he rumbled, low and soothing. 
“I’m fine,” you dismissed, trying to tug your hand back. But König ignored you, lifting your hand to look at the cut himself more closely. 
“No more injuries,” he said, voice soft even as he met your gaze. “Ja?” 
“Okay,” you agreed, a little breathless.
His thumb smeared over the tiny cut, cleaning away your blood. He blinked and looked down between you, the vice around your chest relaxing somewhat. 
“Thanks.” You tried to keep your voice dry, to show you hadn’t really thought his fuss necessary. But you were just a little too breathy to make it stick. 
He hummed softly, a pleased rumbly little noise. But he didn’t move away, keeping hold of your hand. 
Until a twig snapped behind you. Then he leaned back a little, gaze lifting over your head to look. 
“Done already?” König stood, still holding your hand and pulling you up to your feet as well. You huffed at him. 
“Still have to clean them.” Horangi held up two birds. You had no idea what they actually were, but they were decent sized, and one of them was colorful. Probably the male. 
“I’ll help,” you volunteered, gently tugging your hand away from König. It had been a while since you’d had to clean and prep a bird, but you didn’t remember it being that hard.
You were wrong. It sucked. Mainly because plucking the damn things was awful. 
Horangi chuffed in amusement every time he caught you making faces at your assigned bird. Which was often. But he didn’t actually make fun of you, which was good. 
Dinner was quiet, though again not the uncomfortable kind of quiet. Just quiet. It was weird… but nice. 
You were getting entirely too comfortable with these two. Part of you insisted that was only right - they were pack, and you should be comfortable with pack. The rest of you screeched about protecting yourself first and that pack did not automatically mean trustworthy. 
Your head was a bit of a mess. 
This time, you didn’t run off to bed before them, and ended up between the two. Nobody was touching (that you could see or feel), but they’d still put you in the middle. Intentionally. With the sort of planned grace that came from working together often. 
It was odd. Kind of nice. Definitely confusing. 
You resolutely shoved it out of your mind for now, letting the steady breathing on both sides of you lull you to sleep. 
You woke again to warmth, and resisted the urge to cuddle back into fur. Instead you opened your eyes, breathing slowly, taking a few moments to orient yourself. 
Horangi blinked slowly at you, head turned towards you even as he reclined against König’s mass. “Finally awake?”
You blinked, feeling a little slow still, and warmed. “Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze. 
He huffed, tucking one finger under your chin to pull your head back up. “No apologies,” he murmured, low and warm. “You were cute all cuddled up.”
You warmed further, unable to duck your head because of his grip on you, and settled for dropping your gaze to the space between the two of you. 
Apparently deciding to have mercy, Horangi tapped his thumb twice against you chin before he released you, sitting up. “Let’s break down camp,” he ordered. “Get to exfil early.” 
You nodded wordlessly, rolling to your feet to assist with clean up. 
But the phantom feel of his finger under your chin, his thumb against your skin, didn’t leave you all day.
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r0guedr0id · 1 year
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The Unknown Regions I
A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic
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Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances.
Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; injuries and blood; canon typical violence; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut to come in next chapters; porn with plot; plot with porn; Din Djarin needs a hug and a fuck.
Word count: 2,631
A/N: This is something I’ve started, 100% self-indulgent since I have been feeling bad about some recent body weight gain. It was going to be just some pure filth with heavy body worship but the plot started to have its own life. This will be probably about 3 chapters long, so if you think it may be something you’d enjoy, I’m grateful to have you here!
🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐
It had been a long day and you were finally preparing to go to bed. You decided to pamper yourself a bit since you’d been more stressed than usually. So you took a long, hot shower. It was a luxury there in Tatooine, but one of the perks of your workplace were the good job conditions. Nevertheless, last weeks had been hectic and you had to stay at your office longer than normally. You loved your job, but you also appreciated some work-life balance and you weren’t having it at this moment. And your body was taking a toll too.
When the water went cold, you carefully exited the bathtub. Before wrapping yourself in a towel, you examined your body thoroughly and sighed. You had always fallen on the bigger side, and you liked it. Your curves, your softness, they made you feel sexy. But since you started this job, it was clear you hadn-t been taking care of yourself. The long hours at the observatory meant less sleep, less time to exercise and cook homemade, hearty meals. Not only did you feel more tired, but also it was clear that you had gained weight. You observed carefully the new stretch marks, the plush of your breasts and the tummy roll that wasn’t there before. Your new body. It looked kinda cute, but now your clothes didn’t fit anymore and your full bust spilled in every of your outfits. And the other problem was that you compared yourself with the other girls at work. It always escalated until you would start to feel insecure and your confidence weakened.
You sighed again and finally grabbed the towel, wrapping your hair, and then used another one to dry your body. After applying your lotions and skincare, you chose a beautiful nightie and then finally went to bed to resume reading the holobook you had been reading before on your commute to the observatory. It was important to you to have a comfortable nest where you could feel protected from the outer world, so you had invested in the softest duvet to cover you on Tatooine's cold nights. You were perfectly relaxed, even had a scented candle burning to help you decompress, when a blaster shot made you jump from the mattress .
Your first instinct was to drop to the floor and open the drawer on your nightstand where you hid your own gun. Your father had given it to you when he learnt that you would be transferred to the dangerous desertic planet. More shots, men shouting and a lot of metallic sounds. For the Maker’s sake, this compound was meant to be secure, these things didn’t happen to you anymore. It was very hard for you to achieve being in a stage of life where you felt safe. You were feeling afraid, but also angry. These people had broken into your little bubble and ruined your perfect evening.
The shooting continued and with every shot you flinched, but managed to prepare your blaster to defend yourself in case something happened. Maybe you’d have to accept the idea that there wasn’t anything like “safe” on Tatooine’s surface.
You stayed still and quiet for a while until the sounds ceased. Finally you could breathe, your heart still pounding, and dared to move. When you decided that it was quiet enough to stand up, another sound froze your blood. Your front door. There was someone there. You started trembling. You could call security. The residential complex where most of the observatory workers lived had its own since Tatooine’s law enforcement was…well, non-existent. But after a shooting like this, they’d surely have their hands full. Kriff, what if they had been killed? A shiver ran through your spine. There was a stranger at your door. Maybe they were hurt, or worse. You hadn't heard more noises. But the loud clank against the metal surface had been clear enough.
The decision to not be reckless won, and you called security from your holocom. But as you had expected, no one was responding. A low grunt came from the front door. You inhaled sharply.. They were in pain. What if they were some of your coworkers even?
You convinced yourself to bite the bullet and be brave about it. After the rebellion, you decided to not get involved in more conflicts. You had had enough for a lifetime. But there you were again. Laying against the wall in your nightie with your blaster against your chest.
“Hello?” No response. “Someone there?” Anything.
It felt a bit ridiculous to ask politely to a potential attacker. After stewing over for a while, you were determined to check yourself if there was actually someone at your doorstep. Inhaling sharply, you counted to three for yourself and opened the door at the same time you aimed your blaster with determination.
Another clank.
What the kriff.
You slowly lowered your blaster. There, laying on a puddle of his own blood, there was a huge man covered in armor.
“Hey, are you okay?” What a stupid question, of course he’s not. You started to get nervous. There was a lot of blood there. The stranger then said something but his voice was so weak you couldn’t hear him. Never stopping aiming your blaster towards him, you crouched next to his helmet. He repeated his words.
“My…kid…” Maker, there was a child in the shooting? You looked around yourself frantically, but in the dim light only your own lawn was visible.
“Where is he?”
“They…have taken him…” Something in his strained, modulated voice, broke your heart. You’d always had a soft spot about children.
“We’ll find your son. But you are bleeding out and no one is dying today at my doorstep.” You observed his frame and decided that the best was to drag him inside from his underarms. “I’m gonna get you inside, ok?”
He just hummed groggily and you decided to take that as a yes.
You had spoken too soon about dragging him. He was kriffing heavy and you had to use all your willpower to get him in your house. After one of the greatest physical efforts of your life, you finally laid him on your carpet and then sprinted to the bathroom to bring the med kit. Kneeling next to him, you tried to localize his wounds, but with the dark flight suit, it was almost impossible to know if he was bleeding somewhere. Your hands started shaking over the idea that maybe he was actually going to die on your floor. You grabbed your commlink to call the med center, starting to panic.
“I’m calling the med droid, I can’t help you.” You said to the unconscious man, worry drawing a line between your brows.
“No…droids.” You jumped when his gloved hand grabbed your wrist with surprising strength, but the next moment he was dropping it and looking gone for good. Okay, you weren’t the one to contradict the unknown warrior. Trying a different approach, you decided to guess where his injuries were by touch. Some drenched patches between his armor informed you where his major injuries were, so you cut his flight suit there. No time for undressing him.
The wounds looked like knife stabs after you cleaned them. You pressed both the one in his tight and another under his chest plate, to stop the bleeding and then applied bacta spray. But it wasn’t enough. He was growing colder every second and his heart rate was slowing. He was going to die, you realized.
You looked around you desperately trying to think when an idea came to mind. First, you started your stove as fast as lightning and then you chose your largest knife from the drawer. While anxiously looking at him, you put the knife on the flames and then ran to his side again.
“Sorry, this will probably hurt…” And before the knife became cold, you pressed the flat surface of the tool directly against his skin. The smell wasn’t beautiful and neither were his groans of pain, but at least it looked like he wasn’t waking up. You checked the wound and finally it had stopped bleeding. You cleaned the knife and repeated the process in the other stab. After several times, the tissue looked closed enough and only then you started to disinfect the burnt areas with care. They’ll leave nasty scars, but at least when you put your ear next to the helmet, it looked like he was breathing although shallowly.
It was almost dawn when you decided he was out of danger. Exhausted, you finally were able to remove his armor in order to drag him somewhere more comfortable and dress his wounds. It was hard to find the hidden mechanism, but once you got it you were fast. First you removed his heavy chest plate. Probably he’d breathe better without it, Then you put aside the pauldrons and the vambraces, and finally his side and back plates and ended with his legs.
Removing the sticky flight suit and his undershirt was an ordeal, but when the first of the two suns started to appear in the horizon, you had achieved the first part of your mission and his chest wound was fully dressed. While you were bandaging him you hadn’t noticed, but now under the orange light and having finished your task, you could admire the man you had saved. And maker, what a beautiful creature. His torso was strong while lean. You felt bad for the big scar the burn you would leave on his golden skin.
You resumed with his pants and you tried so hard not to look but you were just human and well, wasn’t he gifted there too. Tending to his thigh wounds you had noticed how thick his legs were, but now just down to his undergarments, you noticed the warrior’s actual strength.
You scolded yourself for lusting over the man who almost died in your carpet and was, probably, a criminal. And also a dad. When every wound was tended, you moved to his helmet. Since it had some kind of seal, you hadn’t lost precious time removing it when you couldn’t find the release button the first try. You trashed around the garment until you found said button, hearing a hiss, and put your hands around the helmet to carefully remove it.
The next thing you know is that you’re laying on your back, the warrior on you while he’s pinning your wrists effectively against the bloody carpet, his thick thighs keeping yours in place. You blinked, incredulously. Wasn’t this man on the verge of death? What the kriff?
“What do you think you’re doing?” His raspy, low baritone made you shiver. You should be scared, but your self-preservation instincts had abandoned you. IOn the surface of the T shaped visor, you could see your reflection. Rosy cheeks and doe eyes for the man that was threatening your life.
“Saving your metal ass.” You sassed, lifting your chin proudly. It looked like he wasn’t fully aware of himself since it took him half a minute to process the situation. He then started to release you slowly, but stil tense in mistrust. The skin where he had been grabbing you now felt cold. You looked at each other for what it felt like an eternity.
“M’ sorry.” He finally apologized sitting on his heels, noticing his bandages for the first time. Then he observed you, now on your elbows, your nightie ruined with his blood and purple eye bags under your beautiful eyes. “Did you do this?”
“The stabbing, no. The healing, yes.” You responded while looking for a comfier position on the floor, still on guard but curiosos about him.
“Thank you.” He said after a long silence. You finally released your breath.
“It's sloppy work, I’m afraid it will scar over ugly. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. Thank you.” He repeated. He now looked disoriented , like a lost child. A 180 cm child. Oh wait.
“You…your child, you said someone took him.” He inhaled sharply and his tan shoulders tensed, your words hitting him like a thousand bricks. Then he tried to stand up but almost fell. You stood up fast enough to hold him before he could hurt himself. “Wait, you lost a lot of blood there.”
“I need to find him.” His voice was strained, like he was about to cry. You put his arm around your shoulders and he let you. It was like all the fight energy from before evaporated the moment you named the kid. The warrior’s skin felt warmer now, thanks to the Maker. You only hoped it didn’t become too warm due to infection. He was still heavy without his armor, and although he was making an effort, helping him lay on the sofa wasn’t easy.
“Look, you lost a ton of blood and have poor cauterized wounds from a random girl. You can’t find anyone in this condition.” You tried to not sound too harsh but the truth was there. “Don’t you have anyone you can call?”
He sat looking so defeated it broke your heart, but he finally nodded.
“That’s great, contact them then while I prepare some breakfast. You should hydrate and eat something.” He fixed his visor on you while you went to your room to change into something that wasn’t bloody and sheer to start with. When you returned, he was apparently speaking with a man. You gave him privacy while preparing some scrambled eggs, broth and fresh fruit, considering if you should call in sick to your job.
“They left you for dead, you have that advantage. They won’t expect you when you strike back .” Said the man in the holo. He was middle-aged and looked elegant. He then he spoke again in a kinder voice. “But you should focus on resting and healing now, Mando. Let us take care of it.”
“Thank you Karga, really.”
“Anything for the little one.” And then he hung up. The warrior put his head between his thighs, looking like the most miserable creature in the world. Your chest ached at the sight.
“Here, have some broth, you should hydrate. And probably have a transfusion too.” You half joked, sitting with the tray next to him. Mando, as you heard the bearded man call him, looked at you as if you were a ghost. You handled the tray to him carefully but he didn’t move at all. The longest and most uncomfortable silence went on until you decided to stand up and went to prepare for work.
“If you need to use the refresher, we have warm water here, not just that sonic excuse of a shower.” You started while sipping from your mug trying to look nonchalant. “I need to head to the observatory now, but you can stay as long as you need. That was such a beating you took.” You looked at the bruises that were forming across the golden skin you were desperately trying not to observe all the time. Both of the suns were up now, and they illuminated his frame beautifully. And the mess of dried blood in your floor and carpet, too.
You sighed. “Ok, I need to leave now, if you need anything…” You scribbled your commlink frequency in a holopad. It was strange how this looked as parting with a one night stand you won’t be seeing again. You had a certainty he wouldn't be there when you returned either.
“Thank you.” He finally acknowledged the tray and then nodded in your direction. Confused, injured and desolate, you felt guilty for leaving him there. But today was important since the planet you had been studying was the closest to Tatooine…You couldn’t miss the opportunity even though it felt so wrong.
“Take care, Mando.” You said before disappearing through the main door in a hurry.
Next chapter
230 notes · View notes
nb-octopus-writes · 20 days
Text
once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there
[Masterpost]
Chapter 6: Baiting the Trap
Wordcount: 1.8K
~~~~
Virgil is woken by his alarm and has never once in his entire life been less interested in getting out of bed.
He's comfortable. The bed is soft, the blankets are warm, and Virgil is sleepy and wants nothing more than to just lie here forever.
He snoozes the alarm and drifts back off.
Five minutes later, of course, he's dragged back out of sleep by the insistent melody.
Virgil seriously considers quitting his job so he doesn't have to ever leave this bed, but he does actually need money to buy groceries and pay his rent, and also his hosts have been real gracious but even their patience would surely wear thin if Virgil never left.
So, regrettably, Virgil sits up. He yawns. He longingly contemplates lying back down, but forces himself instead to get out of bed.
At some point in the night, someone—Patton, presumably—had returned his cleaned clothes, which are now sitting folded on the floor by the foot of the bed. Virgil dresses. He folds the borrowed pajamas and sets them on the foot of the bed. He doesn't usually fold his pajamas, but it seems like the polite thing to do in this case. After a moment, he makes the bed too.
And then he goes downstairs.
They're all in the dining room again, and they give him breakfast, and this time he's calm enough to appreciate it.
Princey drives him to work, and he has an otherwise normal day. He borrows a clean apron, and he makes a lot of coffee. He eats lunch at the shop, he takes the bus home, he has leftover spaghetti for dinner, and he does that load of laundry.
His bed seems even harder and lumpier than usual, contrasted with the memory of the bed—no, the actual literal cotton candy cloud—he'd slept on last night.
At least it makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning, when staying isn't bliss. If only by a little. Virgil is not and has never been a morning person. Still, he manages to actually catch the bus for the first time this week, so that's good.
Their newbie’s here for her second day of training, which means that Virgil splits his time between his usual duties and showing her the ropes. She's wary of the fancy coffee machines, and looks attentive but intimidated when Virgil walks her through one of the more simple brews.
She does better with the register. Its layout is also unfamiliar, but at least the potential worst-case consequences of pressing the wrong button are much less severe than “breaking an expensive machine” or “third degree burns and coffee everywhere.”
Several hours into Virgil’s shift, his manager joins him in the back while he's on break.
“There's someone out front looking for you,” Morgan tells him.
“Who?” Virgil asks.
“Nobody I recognized,” Morgan says with a bit of a frown. “Said he was a friend of yours though.”
“Did he give you a name?” Virgil asks, and Morgan's frown deepens.
“No, and I asked,” she says. “I said to him, ‘and you are?’ and he said ‘oh I'm roamin’ like that's an answer, so I prompts him, ‘yer name?’ and he just says ‘yeah’. So seeing as he's decided to just be evasive I told him he could order something or he could leave, but he couldn't hold up the line any longer, so he bought a coffee. Paid in cash, too, so I didn't get to see his name on the card neither.”
“He said he was roaming?” Virgil asks, gears turning.
“Yeah, ’cept he ain't, he sat down with his coffee,” Morgan answers.
“Brown hair?” Virgil asks, fighting back a rising laugh. “Maybe bout this tall, looks a bit like Remus if he ever shaved and combed his hair?”
Morgan nods. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”
Virgil pinches his lips together and shakes his head. Morgan squints at him.
“And what exactly is so funny?” she asks.
The laugh spills out of him. “Sor– sorry, Morgue,” he says. “I think you misheard him. His name’s Roman.”
“What, like Greeks and Romans?”
“I think so,” Virgil says, still grinning. “He's Remus’s brother.”
“I see,” Morgan says. “Well, if you don't want me to get rid of him, do you want to talk to him, or stay back here til he leaves? Lexi and I can handle the customers for a while yet if you don't wanna see him.”
“Nah, I'll go see what he wants.”
Roman is sitting in one of the booths, sipping a coffee and staring dramatically out the window. He turns as Virgil approaches, and then perks up. “Finding Emo!” he says. “Your coworkers said they had never heard of you in their lives. I was starting to think I’d gone to the wrong coffee shop.”
“Nah, just being protective,” Virgil says, sliding into the booth across the table from Roman. “We don’t give that kind of information to customers.” They’d had problems with stalkers trying to get information on employees before, and one bewildering man who’d kept coming round looking for someone Virgil had genuinely never heard of, til Morgan banned him from the shop. “What’s up?”
“So we realized your bike is still at our house,” Roman says. “I wanted to see if you’d like a ride over to get it back. Also if you would be interested in watching more Unfortunate Events, because we left off at a really climactic bit, and I know I already know what happens next, but I want to know what happens next, you know?”
“I definitely want my bike back,” Virgil says. He glances at the clock. “I don’t get off for a while yet today, but if you want to come back around five?”
Roman nods. “And movies?” he asks eagerly.
“Maybe just a little bit,” Virgil says. “I don’t want to bike home in the dark.”
“Oh of course,” Roman says. “I'd never force you to do that.”
Virgil glances back toward Morgan and Lexi at the counter. They’re busy with customers, but the line isn’t very long. Lexi catches his glance and grins at him with a little wave.
“Do you need to get back to work?” Roman asks.
“Not yet,” Virgil decides, settling more comfortably into his seat. “I’ve got a few minutes left before my break ends.”
~
Roman returns just before five, as Virgil’s getting ready to hand off the machines to the next shift. He orders three coffees to go “and whatever Virgil would like,” with a wink in Virgil’s direction.
Virgil rolls his eyes and makes himself a hot chocolate, which he sips on the drive back to Roman’s house. The sun is already dipping toward the horizon, so it looks like there isn't going to be time for tv before he has to bike home. It's a shame, because he really was looking forward to it.
“We’re home!” Roman calls as he opens the door from the garage into the rest of the house to lead Virgil in. As they cross the threshold, Virgil is hit with a nearly tangible wall of scent, stopping him in his tracks. The air smells rich and warm and delicious. He can smell fresh bread, and roasted meat, and something sweet, all mingled together into a tantalizing aroma that makes his mouth water and his stomach perk up eagerly.
“Oh good!” someone Virgil can’t see calls back. “Great timing!”
Roman pulls his jacket off and hangs it on a hook by the door. “It smells great in here!” he says brightly, heading deeper into the house. Virgil manages to unglue his feet from the floor and finally closes the door behind himself and follows Roman.
Calico is putting a steaming dish onto the table when they enter the dining room. “Welcome home,” he says fondly. “Dinner's just about ready.”
“Oh good, I'm hungry,” Roman says. “It smells fabulous, darling.”
Calico beams, eyes scrunching up with it. “Thank you,” he says.
“We brought coffee,” Roman adds, and hands Patton one of the to-go cups. “Your Chemical Romance made this just for you.”
“Aww,” Patton says, smiling heart-meltingly at Virgil. “Thank you.”
Virgil finger-guns awkwardly back at him with his free hand. “No problem.” Making coffee is literally his job. Roman was the one who had paid for it, and picked the flavor.
Then Patton notices what Virgil had put on the side of the cup instead of his name. “Aww!” he exclaims. “You drew me a kitty!”
“Yeah, I figured– you like cats, right?”
Patton looks up at him with shining eyes. “That is paws-itively precious. Thank you so much!”
“Please do not keep the empty cup just because there is a cute cat on it,” Logan says. Roman hands him his own coffee, on which Virgil had drawn a robot face and a triangle science beaker. “Thank you. We do not need additional clutter in our home, Patton.”
Patton pouts at him. “But look, it's so sweet!” he says. “Look at this precious little kitten drawn specifically for me and tell me that you want to throw her in the trash!”
Logan sighs. “At least cut the picture out of the cup instead of keeping the entire thing,” he says.
“Deal!” Patton agrees cheerfully.
“Sorry,” Virgil says. He had not expected Calico to appreciate the art to quite that extreme. He might've put more effort into it if he had.
“No need,” Logan replies. “This is hardly the first time something like this has occurred, and I hold no illusions that it will be the last.”
“Sure won't!” Patton agrees shamelessly.
“Um, so where's my bike at?” Virgil asks after a moment.
“By the door still,” Roman says, taking a seat at the table. “Do you wanna sit next to me again?”
Virgil just now notices that the table is set with four plates. “You… want me to stay for dinner?” he asks hesitantly.
“Of course,” Roman says, now looking puzzled himself. “Why would I bring you to dinner and then not want you to stay and eat?”
They hadn't discussed him coming to dinner. They had planned for him to retrieve his bike, and perhaps watch tv with Roman, but the topic of dinner hadn't come up.
Virgil means to say no, that he had better get going, but it does smell so very good, and they did set a spot for him, and he is hungry, and if he goes home now he'll have to figure out some other meal and honestly it's not going to be anything fancier than frozen pizza and fries, or maybe just ramen since that would be faster.
“Okay,” Virgil says, and sits next to Roman.
~~~~
Chapter 7: How They Kept Him Very Well
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romione-trope-fest · 7 months
Text
Love and War
Fic Title: Love and War 
Author Name: Be11atrixthestrange
Selected Trope: Cockblocker Harry (+ future fake not dating)
Brief Summary: Ron and Hermione shared their first kiss during the Battle of Hogwarts…. Or at least that’s what everyone else thinks.
Word Count: 4078 (Chapter 1 of 3)
Rating: T (Will likely be upgraded to M for future chapters)
Any Trigger Warnings: Mention of character death 
Chapter 1
-The Burrow, Summer 1997-
Most summers at the Burrow were busy, but the summer of 1997 could only be described as chaotic. After a dramatic escape from death eaters and an intense week of mourning Mad-Eye Moody, the Weasley clan set out to bottle up their grief like freshly-brewed butterbeer and transform their homestead into a wedding venue. Normal Weasley things, really. 
It was a hot afternoon, and Ron just needed to be alone. Well, maybe not totally alone, but solitude was better than the frantic state of his home. The bustling Burrow provided the perfect opportunity for Ron to lie low. When he was certain Molly Weasley was distracted, he crept up the stairs, tiptoed into his room, and eased the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief for an empty space. He was desperate for a moment of rest, and couldn’t risk his mother spotting him finishing a chore just to assign him a new one. 
He plopped into his bed and buried his head into the pillow. Ron couldn’t help but feel his tasks were superfluous. He had only spotted one gnome during an entire morning of de-gnoming the garden, and as soon as he returned to the kitchen for a drink, his mum appeared with another chore — cleaning the downstairs bathroom. That wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t assigned to him for the third time that week. Mrs. Weasley, being the worrier that she was, probably just wanted to keep her children occupied.
Ron jolted at the sound of a knock on the door. “Erm, come in?” He jumped to his feet and grabbed a dirty shirt from the floor. Having something in his hand might make him look busy.
To his relief, it was Hermione who cracked the door open. 
“Hello.” Just like Ron, she shuffled across his room and collapsed onto his bed. 
He had to admit that he liked the way his bed looked with her on it. “Aren’t you supposed to be putting away laundry?” he asked.
“Already finished,” she said as she fluffed a pillow under her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the bathroom?”
“All done.”
“I reckon we should ask for another task then.” She shifted over to the side of his bed, and to Ron, it looked a lot like an invitation. 
He laid down next to her and rested his head on the pillow beside hers. “Nah. This is good,” he said, as he motioned to put an arm around her. She responded by sliding closer to him and placing her head on the front of his shoulder. 
The faint floral smell of her shampoo sent Ron’s mind into overdrive. It brought him back to the Gryffindor common room fifth year, when she suddenly sat much closer to him than usual and he caught a faceful of her hair, a moment that occupied his brain for weeks. He recalled the end of fifth year when she hugged him goodbye and lingered just a bit longer than she used to. And all those goodbye hugs that became kisses on the cheek.
Something was different. He couldn’t have imagined all that. 
“Where’s Harry?” she asked, extracting him from his train of thought. 
“Don’t know.” He gently pulled her closer to him. “Don’t care.”
“Nor do I,” she said as she nestled into his shoulder.
Ron’s eyes traveled to her lips. What would it be like to actually kiss her? She had to be expecting it, right? They’ve been dancing around a kiss since the end of fifth year. If it wasn’t for that Lavender hiccup they’d already be together right now. Probably. Maybe. 
Friends didn’t snuggle in bed together. When friends kissed each other on the cheek, it was firmly on the cheek, not somewhere questionably close to the lips. 
Hermione reached for Ron’s hand and interlaced her fingers with his. He traced the back of her hand with his thumb. 
Friends definitely didn’t do that. 
The moment had to be right. Was this moment right? You only get one first kiss. He glanced at the door to his bedroom. So many people were here, and in a crowd like this, there was no sense of privacy. 
“What are you thinking about?” asked Hermione. 
Kissing you, he wanted to say. 
“What are you wearing to the wedding?” he asked instead. As if that thought was any more innocent than the real one.
She chuckled. “Dress robes.”
“Like the ones you wore in fourth year?” His voice perked up and he remembered how stunning she looked. Even though she wasn’t with him, and he wasn’t supposed to be ogling her that day.
“Different dress robes.”
“Well, I reckon you’ll look beautiful. As always.”
Hermione squeezed his fingers. “Manage your expectations.”
He glanced down at her and could have sworn she glanced at his lips. 
“I reckon I don’t need to—” 
Footsteps appeared on the landing of the stairs. Hermione jolted away from him and let go of his hand just as Ron’s bedroom door swung open. Harry stood in the doorway, his face red as though he’d just run up the stairs.
“There you are!” he said, panting. “Your mum’s looking for you. She wants you to help tidy the guest room.”
Of course there were more chores. The break was nice while it lasted. Ron glanced at Hermione, who had already risen to her feet. 
“And Hermione,” continued Harry, “Ginny needs help getting the tent set up.”
“Right.” she said. 
Harry disappeared back into the hallway while Ron and Hermione lingered behind.
Ron turned to Hermione and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Harry’s voice trailing from the stairs. 
“Coming, Ron?”
Ron sighed.  “I’ll be right down,” he shouted through the door. 
* * *
The tent on the Burrow grounds was much larger on the inside than it would seem. Floating candles and cozy tea lights illuminated the dance floor, which nearly vibrated to the beat of the music. Ginny and Hermione’s decorating efforts paid off. They had managed to create an atmosphere that felt separate from the looming darkness and danger surrounding them. The sounds of chatter and laughter were a welcome distraction to what lay ahead. It was likely a combination of music, lighting, and a few cocktails, but Ron felt a lightness and confidence he’d rarely experienced before. 
It was probably that confidence that possessed Ron to ask Hermione to dance. There was no need to ‘manage his expectations’ when he saw her in her dress robes. His knees had nearly buckled out from under him and his breath got caught in his throat. He spluttered his invitation to dance, and thanked Merlin that she agreed. 
It turned out he wasn’t too bad a dancer after all. Holding her hand, he guided her to the middle of the room and pulled her into his arms. Any other day, the twinkling lights and the clatter of shoes on the dance floor would have been a distraction, but not today. Hermione was the center of his focus.
Dancing with her in his arms felt surprisingly natural, just like he’d imagined it all those times. His hands found the perfect nook at the small of her lower back, and hers wrapped around his neck like a cozy scarf. She looked him directly in the eye, and he resisted the urge to turn away, as if that would hide the rush of color creeping into his face. 
“What inspired this?” she asked. 
His response spilled out of him without a thought. “I finally had an opportunity to ask.”
It was true. He had regretted not dancing with her at the Yule Ball years prior, and there had never been an occasion to fix it. No dances, no galas, not until now. 
“A long time coming.” She was close enough that he could feel her breath on him.
“Too long,” he confirmed, drawing her closer so that her head rested on his chest. As if they had a mind of their own, his lips found their way to the top of her head and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 
She melted into him, and he could feel her mouth form a smile against his chest. 
There remained a small part of him that wondered if they could still be considered just friends. His gut said they couldn’t be, and hadn’t been for a while. 
It wasn’t the perfect moment to kiss her yet. It was too crowded, and their first kiss should be in private. He was sure of it. 
The moment was coming, and the thought made his heart beat even faster. 
~Grimmauld Place, Summer 1997~
As the trio settled into bed in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, it was easy to forget that Bill and Fleur’s wedding was earlier that day. It felt like eons ago that Ron was holding Hermione in his arms, swaying to the music, and imagining the perfect moment to initiate their first kiss. 
He had made quite a big deal of insisting that Hermione take the couch that first night, and she had made an equally big deal of rejecting his attempts at chivalry. He eventually won out, and Ron found himself on the floor next to the sofa. His eyes traveled to her hand, which dangled from the edge of the couch as if daring him to reach for it. When he glanced up at her face, he was surprised to see her awake and looking back at him.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked him. 
He smiled at the memory of her asking him the same exact question not too long ago. By now, she had to know she was always on his mind. 
“You,” he quipped, acknowledging how easy it was to say the right thing when he didn’t let himself think too much. 
She smiled and reached down for his hand and snaked her fingers through his. 
“What about me?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed, but she never broke her smile.
Ron paused before he answered, wanting more than anything to just be honest. 
“You know how I feel about you, right?”  
Her cheeks flushed and she nodded, sending Ron’s stomach into knots. “I think so. I hope so.”
“Do you feel the same way?”
Instead of answering she pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. His hand lingered at her mouth for what was maybe a moment too long, but she didn’t seem to mind. He brushed his thumb against her lips before reluctantly drawing hands away and re-intertwining their fingers. 
“Good,” he whispered, and those were the last words exchanged before falling asleep, hand in hand. 
* * *
The following few days at Grimmauld Place became a dance, with both Ron and Hermione hyper-aware of Harry’s presence, the insurmountable task at hand, and the hippogriff in the room — their admission to each other that first night. It didn’t take long to address the growing tension, but only in the form of glances across the room when no one was looking, or hands brushing against one another under the table at dinner time.
It was during a particularly sleepless night when Ron heard Hermione remove her blankets and tiptoe into the hallway. Ron glanced over at Harry, still sleeping soundly, before extracting himself from his blanket and following her. 
He found her in the library moments later, snuggled into an armchair with a book in hand. 
“What are you reading?” he whispered from the doorway. 
Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice. “Ron!”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing awake?” she asked. 
“I could ask you the same question.”
Hermione placed a finger between the pages and closed her book. “I come here to read when I can’t sleep,” she said, shrugging. “Get my mind off of things.”
Ron peered at the book in her hand, Little Women. “Fiction?”
“One can only take so much Hogwarts, A History.” 
Hermione scooted to one side of her armchair, which Ron interpreted as a signal. Following her lead, he made his way over and sat beside her. His arm draped over shoulder, and the depression of the cushion made her press her body to his. It was a tight squeeze, but Ron didn’t mind. 
“What’s it about?” pressed Ron. 
“You don’t really care,” she said as she dog-eared the page and placed the book on the nearby table. 
“Yes, I do!”
“No, you don’t,” insisted Hermione. She shifted so that she was facing him and draped her legs over his lap.  Without a second thought, Ron rested his hand on her thigh. 
“I do,” he repeated again, prepared to defend himself against Hermione’s accusation when he saw that she was smiling at him. 
“Ron, it’s okay,” she said, and he could have sworn she inched her face closer to his.
Suddenly, his hand felt heavy on her thigh, and he realized he’d been trying hard not to move it. Would it feel too forward if he slid it higher? Would she take it as rejection if he slid it lower? Would keeping it planted firmly mid-thigh be the mark of a man who had no idea how to finally bridge the gap from best friends to more? Was he overthinking?
He probably was. How very Hermione of him. Was she overthinking too?
His gaze traveled to her lips, then back to her eyes. She was looking at his hand on her thigh. 
“Is this okay?” he asked, nodding toward his hand. 
“Yes.”
Ron’s ears burned hot. The whole world seemed to freeze as Ron contemplated how to proceed. Maybe there was no need to proceed, and he could just stay there forever, hand on her thigh, eyes on her lips. That wouldn’t be awkward at all, right? 
He slid his hand a pace higher. Hopefully she didn’t mind. The coy smile on her lips told him she didn’t. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, turning her new favorite question back on her.
She was quiet at first, and the silence was deafening. Her cheeks turned pink and she averted her gaze as if avoiding the question. 
Ron waited. “You can tell me,” he urged. 
Hermione took a full breath as though summoning her confidence and met his eyes. “I’m thinking about kissing you.”
Ron’s face grew even hotter and he once again became conscious of how close she was. Was this the moment? It had to be. He looked at her lips. She was looking at his too. This had to be the moment. 
Ron leaned in, and Hermione met him halfway. 
Their lips barely brushed before the sudden shuffling in the hallway brought his focus back to the present. Hermione must have heard it too, because she withdrew immediately and jolted off the chair, breaking their contact once and for all.
Fuck. 
“Oh, thank Merlin,” said a winded Harry from the doorway. “I woke up and panicked.”
Ron felt a pang of guilt at Harry’s admission. There was something to be said about sticking together at times like this. “Sorry mate. We just couldn’t sleep.”
He glanced over to Hermione, who seemed to be at a loss for what to do with her hands. She resorted to straightening out her shirt, which had gotten twisted while sharing a chair with him. Harry didn’t seem to think much of it, but Ron stifled a smirk. 
“Just glad you both are okay,” said Harry, adjusting his glasses. “I’m going to go back to sleep. Are you coming too?”
Ron glanced at Hermione. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Be right there,” echoed Hermione. 
With a nod, Harry turned into the hallway and shuffled back to the drawing room. 
“So, that was—“, he began.
“We shouldn’t do that,” she interrupted. “It would be irresponsible.”
“What do you mean?” Ron’s stomach clenched into a knot. The last thing he wanted to do was resist this. If not now, then when? “You were the one who said—” 
“It was a moment of weakness,” she huffed. “We can’t let ourselves get distracted, Ron.”
Distracted. The most distracting thing for him would be bottling up his feelings for her. 
“Hermione—“
“There’s a war, Ron.”
He knew she was right. Or at least, in this moment, she needed to be right. She had a point. In the past, just a slip of his imagination could pull him straight out of reality. But right now, losing focus meant losing everything. 
On the other hand, that almost-kiss wasn’t doing his ability to focus any favors. “It’s now or never, don’t you think?” 
“No, it’s not,” she said. “We have time.” Her voice trembled over the words, as if she wasn’t convinced herself. 
“Do we?”
“I have to believe that,” she said definitively. “I’m sorry.”
With that, Hermione shuffled back to the hallway, offering an apologetic glance on her way out. 
Ron groaned and leaned back in the armchair. The book on the side table caught his eye, and he immediately pictured Hermione cuddled up in the corner reading it. In the armchair. Or at the Burrow. Maybe one day, in his bed. The image sent him reeling. He knew those thoughts would persist until he finally kissed her. 
We have time, he repeated to himself, desperately hoping it was the truth. 
* * *
Over the course of the next few days, Grimmauld Place felt smaller than ever. It seemed that he and Hermione couldn’t walk through a hallway without accidentally brushing against one another. Every time she entered the room he was in, he would immediately forget his task at hand. He could have sworn she made prolonged eye contact and stood closer to him than normal. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe she was doing it on purpose. 
The trio had been planning to break into the ministry to retrieve the locket, and Ron knew this plan could change the trajectory of the war. It would be dangerous, life threatening even. It also carried the risk of alerting death eaters to their entire horcrux plan. If Voldemort caught wind of that, he would go to even greater lengths to protect himself, and defeating him would become that much more difficult. 
And yet, kissing Hermione Granger remained the first item on Ron’s to-do list. 
He sat in the kitchen alone, staring into a cup of tea, waiting for Harry or Hermione to join him for their daily brainstorming session. The tea brought back memories of third year divination, when he and Harry would try to determine each other’s fate  based on tea leaf shapes. If only he had paid attention in that class, maybe his tea could offer some reassurance about what was to come. 
“Morning.”
Hermione’s voice brought him back to reality, or at least as much of reality as he was capable of grasping when she was around. 
“Morning.”
She wandered to the kettle on the stove to pour herself a mug of tea. “How are you?” 
“I’m alright. A bit tired.”
Their conversations had felt terse as of late, but Ron knew exactly why. She was distracted, just like him. 
She wandered over to Ron and took a seat next to him. Then, shifted her chair a smidge closer. 
Ron chuckled. He didn’t hate the game they were playing, although Hermione would probably protest him calling it a game. 
But that’s exactly what it was. Since their moment in the library a few nights ago, they’d fallen asleep holding hands every night. They’d shared hugs in the hallway. He’d caught her eyeing him when he’d changed his shirt, which he’d purposefully done in the same room as her. She wanted to stay focused, but he was determined to make that particularly difficult. 
Ron ran his fingers through his hair to fluff it up a little. She always blushed when he did that. Then, he reached for her hand. 
“What are you doing?” she asked, without resisting intertwining their fingers.
“Your hand was distracting me,” he said. “So I’m holding it.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
They sat for a few moments in comfortable silence before Hermione spoke again. “So you were so distracted by your shirt you had to take it off in front of me earlier?”
Ron laughed. “Yes.”
It wasn’t just him. Ron noticed how Hermione wore lipstick the other day, in fact, he watched her put it on. And that time she sat next to him on the sofa and undid her hair tie in his direction so that her curls brushed against his shoulder. She even gave him a fucking back rub after he mentioned he was sore from sleeping on the floor. Harry was sore too, but he didn’t get a back rub.
She knew exactly what she was doing. 
“Is it a problem?” he asked her. “Are you having a hard time staying focused?”
Hermione’s face tinged pink, then turned serious. “Honestly? I can’t stop thinking about the other night. 
“What other night?”
“In the library.”
Ron didn’t respond, opting to wait for her to clarify exactly what she meant. Did she want to reiterate that it can’t happen? Because frankly, he disagreed. 
“Me neither,” he said when she didn’t elaborate.  “But, like you said, we need to stay focused. Right?”
“Right,” said Hermione. “But all I focus on is the fact that Harry’s not in here right now.”
An involuntary smile broke across Ron’s face, and he had to admit he loved seeing Hermione flustered. 
“What are you saying?” As he spoke, swiveled in his chair to face her. 
“I’m saying that I regret not kissing you,” she said boldly. 
Ron’s ears burned as he instinctively reached for her waist. 
Was this the moment?
“So, no waiting until after the war?”
Hermione looked him in the eye and gently shook her head. “Now or never,” she whispered.
It was impossible to know who initiated but suddenly his lips were on hers. Her body shifted up against his, one of his hands tangled into her hair, the other wrapped around her lower back and pulled her into him. Her lips were soft and inviting, parting just enough to allow him a full taste. She tasted like peppermint tea and Hermione, nothing he could have described, but everything he expected. Her muffled moan sent a vibration down this throat and as a result, his fingers tightened around her hair and he held her closer. 
Yes, this was the moment. 
Kissing her felt foreign yet familiar, like a dream loaded with deja vu. Maybe because it had happened so many times already in his imagination. In the common room. In his dormitory. In his bedroom. Hermione’s hand traced along the back of his neck and sent pins and needles down his spine. He responded by rising to his feet, pulling her with him and pressing her up against the countertop, not caring that the thin fabric of his joggers left none of his excitement to the imagination. 
Based on the faint smile he felt from her lips under the kiss, Hermione didn’t seem to care either. 
Time stood still, and Ron had no way of knowing if they had been kissing for a minute or an hour. Nothing could have pulled him out of this. Except…
Footsteps. Fucking Harry.
They began quietly, from somewhere upstairs. They still had time. 
One of Ron’s hands slid from Hermione’s hair down the side of her neck, down her waist, and landed on her hip. In response, her fingers dug into the skin on his shoulders. 
The footsteps grew louder as Harry descended down the stairs toward the hallway. 
Hermione’s arms snaked around Ron’s neck as though she was hanging onto the moment in time. They remained entangled until Harry’s footsteps became dangerously close. 
Ron and Hermione broke their kiss the second the door to the kitchen burst open. A flustered Harry entered with a notebook in hand. 
“I have a plan,” he announced as he spilled into the room.
Harry glanced from Ron — who had nearly missed the barstool when he sat back down in a hurry, to Hermione — who was straightening out her hair. “Are you two okay?”
“Yes,” said Ron and Hermione in unison. 
Hermione cleared her throat. “What’s your plan, Harry?”
Harry slapped his notebook down on the counter between them. 
“Alright…first we will need some polyjuice potion…” 
As Harry dove into his plan for sneaking into the Ministry, Ron snuck a glance at Hermione. She smiled at him and he felt his cheeks tinge pink. 
They were just getting started. 
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nethhiri · 4 days
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Chapter 59: Eye Eye, Cap'n
Warnings: "medical" "procedures", Heat gets something stuck in his ass
Milling about the infirmary, you made a list of things you needed to restock on. If it were an emergency, you could probably make them, however you preferred to keep your devil fruit reserved for your prisoners at the moment. You were starting to understand Wire's preference in clothing. You had no choice but to commandeer his fit since your pants were ruined. There was no question you could have fixed those too, but once you tried on Wire's fishnets, out of curiosity, you didn't want to. Instead, you decided to add his tiny shorts, which were much less tiny on you, yet stretchy enough not to fall down. His mesh bralette-like top had to be adjusted a bit to fit your body. Once everything was on, you couldn't deny that you felt very sexy. 
There was a touch of a strut to your step as you paraded around your domain. When your eyes touched the place where Kid had upset you, your step faltered. Failing to push it from your mind, your heartbeat sped, thinking about it had been causing you quite a lot of anxiety. You were still angry, but no longer seething. It was reasonable to assume Kid would be safe in your presence, however not guaranteed. You knew you would have to face it soon. All you needed from him was a sincere apology and reassurance that you were something more than easy sex. You wanted to believe it was just something stupid he had said, and it most likely was, but you needed him to say it for you to fully forgive him and put it behind you. You wished it was easier being romantically entwined with him. With Killer it seemed so easy. Why couldn't it be like that with Kid? Or was it normal with Kid, and Killer was the abnormality? Relationships, if you wanted to call whatever you had with them that, were an enigma to you. 
You leaned against the counter and took a short break. You had gotten into your feelings again and needed to clear your head. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought of not being able to forgive Kid. Fuck him for making you soft. You wanted badly to go back to the way things were, but you were not going to compromise your self-worth. When you first stepped on the ship, you were fearless and confident. Lately, you had been feeling like part of that was lost when you were in captivity. You were struggling to regain it. This anxiety of being wanted and accepted was undermining your composure. Maybe that was it. Maybe caring about it was the thing that was undermining your usual confidence. Before, you couldn't have given less of a shit about the Kid Pirates, and now you gave a lot of shits. 
A timid knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, fortunately. 
"Yeah?"
Heat shuffled in awkwardly. 
"Hey, Heat. What's wrong?" You immediately clocked his discomfort. 
He seemed to look around to make sure no one else was there. 
"It's okay. No one is here." You went to the door to lock it and double checked that the one to Kid's workshop was still locked. "You can tell me." As Heat approached, there was a low humming noise. "What is that noise?" 
Heat faced the floor, fidgeting with his hands. 
The noise emanated from Heat, specifically his abdomen. Your eyebrows furrowed, as it sounded familiar. When you realized what it was, your eyes went wide and darted to his face. "Heat!? Are you serious?"
"It was an accident. Please don't tell Wire." 
"I won't say a word to anyone." You sighed. You didn't have plans to be elbow deep in someone today, but here we were. "There's a few things we can try, but let's start with the easiest."
You had him lean over one of the gurneys and drop his pants while you put gloves on, the long ones. A few other things, like lubricant and a mild analgesic cream, were also grabbed. Hopefully, that was all you needed. If it was further up, you may need to use your fruit. You stood to the side of him.
"Cold hands," you warned as you parted his cheeks enough to put some of the cream on his asshole. Then you lubed up your hand. "I'm gonna need you to relax as much as possible, hun. I'm going to see if I can reach it manually. I may need you to bear down at some points, okay?"
Heat nodded, clearly embarrassed. This is not how he imagined you inside him. 
"Tell me if it hurts. Ready?" After another nod, you gently pressed a finger inside him, using the vibrations to guide you. Luckily, the vibrator he used wasn't very far up and he was lubed enough from whatever he had been doing that your finger easily reached the base. Your clean hand rested on Heat's lower back, gently patting him for comfort. "You're doing great. I think I can feel it." 
Gently, you retracted your hand enough to add a second finger. You paused as he tensed, waiting for him to relax again before going forward. Holding them in a scissor shape, you grasped the base of the sex toy with your fingers. "Push. Not hard, please." When Heat neared down, the base was pushed more firmly into your grasp and you tugged just enough to make it move. "Keep doing that." 
With a soft whimper from Heat and a sloppy, wet noise, the dildo was free. Heat let out a relieved sigh. 
"It's a boy!" You said, presenting the lube-covered thing to him, still vibrating. "Good thing it was a skinny one." You turned it off and tossed the thing in the sink. Heat stayed still while you cleaned him up with a warm washcloth. "All done." 
Heat pulled up his pants. "Thanks, Doc." His face was red with embarrassment. Half from the incident that had happened and half because he was a little turned on by it. Did he just discover a new kink? Did he like playing doctor? Or maybe he liked seeing you in Wire's clothes. 
"What did we learn?"
"Tapered bases are important for a reason." 
"If it happens again, I may have to give you a lesson on how to play safely." You winked at him. "Now take your fake dick and scram."
"Sorry, ma'am. Won't happen again." Heat darted from the infirmary, shoving his vibrator in his pocket so no one could see it.
You went back to what you were doing, grateful to have your thoughts filled with wondering how Heat managed to get that stuck up his ass, instead of thinking about real feelings. Mini snorted in a judgy way from her napping spot against the back wall. 
"Everyone does it once! Don't bully Heat. That's my job." 
She snorted again and let her head rest on the floor.
Your list was fairly long. You had used up a lot of the supplies on yourself, or they had been used on you when you were incapacitated. You weren't even sure when the Victoria would docking at an island. If you were on speaking terms with him, you could ask Kid. You could have asked Wire the previous night but you were otherwise occupied. Killer hadn't been around for a minute and certainly, you were not going to ask Heat while you were knuckles deep in him, not that you had thought about it then. 
You tapped your foot, staring at a bare corner in the small room. Something could fit there. Now that you knew you could restore things, as long as they weren't rotten to the point of no return, maybe you could start saving spare parts. Kid could build you a fridge no doubt. Killer may even have an old one to spare. You could harvest the more important parts from prisoners and replace them when one of your own crew was injured. You didn't even need a refrigerator technically. You could put everything in formalin like your eye had been in, though it would take a lot more effort to get it in working order. The fridge would be better. A deep freezer could work as well. You would have to test that to see if freezing affected the parts too much.
A metallic, rolling sound caught your attention. You rolled your eyes watching silver nuts and bolts stream across the floor. Not this again. Still, you felt your face get hot. It was the little things like this that made Kid so charming when he waned to be. Per routine, you knelt on the floor, watching them form words and shapes. 
COME HERE.
You rearranged them: WHY?
MISS YOU.
More like he missed your pussy. There wasn't enough material to spell that though. AND?
LO- He started to spell something and then the metal bits quickly scattered and rearranged. WANT 2 SEE U.
WHY? You arranged the pieces in reply. 
This time you heard muffled yelling from the other side of the door. "OH FER FUCK SAKE, WOMAN!" It was followed by banging on aforementioned door.
"WHY SHOULD I OPEN IT?" You yelled back.
"RAGHHHH." Kid's loud, exasperated yell was followed by stomping footsteps fading away and then getting closer, but in a different place. Kid flung open the actual door to the infirmary.
Startled by the stomping, the dozing boar in the back of the room suddenly became alert and ready to defend her master. Did she "accidentally" mistake Kid for an enemy? Did she have a grudge against Kid in the first place? Had she always wanted to headbutt Kid full force? Either way, Kid was barely one step in before a flash of brownish-red flew by you. You heard a grunt and a whoosh as the force of Mini's head knocked the air from Kid's chest. You took off running after him, realizing a little too late that Kid was flying over the edge of the ship, and you were following him down. Instinct made you chase him. You were completely focused on seeing if he was okay, and not at all focused on where he was headed. You should have been laughing your ass off at the railing watching that dumbass sink until Killer undoubtedly jumped to save him, but no. You cared too much and now you were destined to sink with him.
You saw the water below explode and froth as Kid's broad body hit it. The water swallowing you whole before you could register what was happening. At least you had taken a full breath before you were enveloped by the icy, cold sea. Kid had nothing. When your hand touched something soft, you grabbed onto it and pulled closer, immediately recognizing it. At the same time, something curled around you in an iron grip. The poor visibility in the water made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you, and the salt stung your eyes. Still, your mouth found Kid's and you pushed half the air you had into him. Here you were again, always giving him something of yours, trying to prove yourself. His stupid ass better appreciate you giving him a few more minutes to realize that. 
Any second now Killer would be yanking you both out. Any second now. Except you were both still sinking.
He was coming to get you both right? What if no one saw you go in? You clung more tightly to Kid's feathered cape and you felt Kid's other arm wrap around you in a protective embrace.
It felt like forever because of the adrenaline. In reality, it was only a few seconds. Your muscles started to burn from the lack of oxygen. Kid grabbed your arm, positioning it in front of you and turning it so the bottom side of your forearm was up. You stared at him, confused. With his other hand he made your head look back down at your arm and gestured for you to watch. With a finger, he wrote across your skin. You could barely see what he was writing, but you could feel it. 
S-O-R-R-Y
A mix of emotions flooded you. The first was relief, followed by longing. An apology was all you wanted. The second was anger. Why did it take a life or death situation to spur him on? Then you were guilty. That probably wasn't true. You had been ignoring him and pushing him away. Maybe he intended to say it earlier and you had been too hard-headed to accept that. Lastly, you were scared. What if he was only saying it because you were near death? Did he know something you didn't? He pulled you back into an embrace, suddenly pushing you away from him after a few long seconds. What was he doing?! You stretched, reaching out for him, and were yanked upward. You tried kicking at whoever was pulling you away, losing some of the air you had left in a flurry of bubbles, but were too weak. You covered your mouth and nose to keep the rest of the air from escaping.
As soon as your head broke the surface of the water, you were coughing and gasping for air. You hadn't even blinked the water from your eyes before you were scanning for anything red in the waves. 
"Where's Kid?!" 
"Worry about yourself, not your boytoy." Dive's sharp teeth glistened in the sun's rays reflecting off the water as she grinned. She patted your back as a fit of coughing overtook you. "Killer's got him. Don't fret." 
With surprising strength, Dive swam with you in tow. Seconds later, there was a disturbance in the water as one blond, albeit under a helmet, and one red head popped up. You held your breath with worry until you heard Kid cough as well. Dive and Killer got you both on deck with the help of the rest of the crew. You and Kid lay flat on your backs trying to catch your breaths. Your hand searched to your side until it found purchase in Kid's. Even though you heard him cough, you were relieved that his hand was warm. At least this time you didn't loss consciousness. You had woken up in this position more times than you cared to remember.
You sat up and Killer helped you to your feet, then thanked Dive before Wire and Heat shooed off the rest of the spectating crew. Heat was still walking funny, but he seemed fine. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kid glaring in the direction of a very smug-looking pig. You got in the way of his line of sight. You were mad at her, mad wasn't the right word, but would scold her privately. If you did it now, you weren't sure what Kid would do, assuming he was already pissed at the animal. Kid rose from the deck, shaking water from his hair, and walked towards you, meaning to get to Minerva. You backed up, putting yourself between he and Mini. You could forgive the things he did to you, but you would not forgive anything he did to her. Your back touched her as she stood to her full height, fur puffed out, taking a fighting stance against Kid. He similarly made himself look bigger, but you didn't sense malice from him, strangely. 
You put a hand out to keep him back. "It was an accident! All your stomping spooked her!"
"YER LUCKY I DON'T BARBECUE YA AND FEED THE CREW TONIGHT FOR THAT STUNT!" He leaned in as if he were gonna growl something to the boar, instead speaking in a hushed normal voice. "That was yer one free shot at me cuz I deserved it." He narrowed his eyes. "I know ya been wantin to do that fer a while, piggy." 
Gazing into his amber eyes before they flicked away, you knew that was part of his apology to you, choosing to let the boar's actions go because you loved her and he loved you. He turned to go back to his workshop, with you tailing him.
"Hey! You can't stay in wet clothes! You'll get sick!" 
Suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground as Killer plucked you from the deck and followed Kid. "That goes for you, too, little darlin." He grabbed the back of Kid's coat and pulled him below deck with you towards his room.
Killer stripped you both of your wet clothes, though taking a minute to appreciate how good Wire's outfit looked on you. And the two of you were now seated nude at the end of Killer's bed, hands shoved between your legs and heads down with guilt, while he paced back and forth, arms folded over his ample chest. He was deciding which one of you to scold first, not allowing you to put clothes on yet.  
"You." He stood at your feet and you reluctantly met his gaze through the holes of his mask. "Are you stupid? Why would you jump in after this big idiot?"
"HEY!" Kid protested.
You covered yourself up to the best of your ability, feeling vulnerable under Killer's gaze. "I didn't mean to. I just..." 
"Just what? Hm?" Underlying Killer's stern voice, was a thin layer of exasperation. "I have to worry about him enough. I don't need you adding to it."
"I wasn't thinking! I saw that he got hurt and I went after him!"
"And you didn't see the ocean? The giant blue thing on all sides of us." Killer huffed and carried on. "You come get ME. Understand? What if no one saw you go in? Huh? Then both of you would be lost."
"I..." You snapped. "I only saw Kid okay?! I was scared he was hurt! As much as he irritates the fuck out of me and makes me mad, I still care about him and I can't stop." You saw him grinning stupidly beside you and punched him. "Fuck off. I hate you." You folded your arms tighter and turned away from him so he couldn't see your pink-dusted cheeks, slapping his hand away when he tried to pinch one. 
Kid's boisterous laugh filled the room. "HA-HA! YER IN LOVE WITH ME, DUMBASS!" 
Killer snapped at him with his fingers. "Hey, numbnuts, look at me." Kid's laugh faded as it was his turn to be scolded. "Stop riling up the pig, first of all. Second of all, stop saying stupid shit. That's what always gets you into trouble. Think for one extra second before you open that big ass mouth of yours." 
"FINE." Kid huffed. 
"Did you apologize yet?"
You half turned to see what his expression was, seeing him looking at you with a question, and nodded, indicating you accepted his underwater apology. 
"Aye." 
"Y/N?"
"He did." 
"Great." Killer clapped his hands. "Now kiss and make up." Killer turned both of your heads to face each other. "Don't be shy."
You curled your lip and gave Kid a quick peck on the cheek. 
"No! Not good enough!" Killer folded his arms. "What's wrong?" 
You hesitated. If you were going to get it off your chest, now was the time. You huffed and faced Kid. "I want to know that..." you forced yourself to keep his gaze. "...I'm more than sex." 
"Hah?!" Kid had an incredulous expression on his face. "What're ya? Stupid? Course ya are!"
"But you said...as long as I have a pussy-"
Kid put a hand over his face. "Fuck me! That's not what I meant. I was tryin to make ya laugh is all."
"It wasn't funny! I had real fears that...maybe that's all I would be if I couldn't fight."
"Once a Kid Pirate, always a Kid Pirate. We won't abandon ya, even if ya get hurt. Do ya think we would raid a marine base to save ya if ya didn't mean more to us?" Kid continued. "If all I wanted was easy sex, I could grab any random whore from an island."
You hummed in agreement. He had a point. 
"And I did. But we made her our whore." Kid laughed again and you frowned. 
"I really don't like you." You rolled your eyes. 
"Come on now, doll." Kid wrapped his arms around you and smushed his face into your neck. "What would I do without my Rotten? Right, Kil?"
You tried to squirm out of Kid's overly affectionate hug. You could tell he was laying it on thick to annoy you, smug that he knew you could never really stay mad at him.
Killer sat on the opposite side of you and took one of your hands in his. "Kid isn't good with words. That just how he's always been. Sometimes he says the wrong thing or he doesn't realize what he says can be harsh, but trust me when I say he cares about you. If you're on this ship and a part of the crew, he cares about you." 
"Even if ya ever decide ya don't want ta fuck us, yer still a Kid Pirate. I'll still take care of ya." Kid pressed a kiss to your neck. "But I will be sad if ya decide ya don't wanna be my bunny anymore." 
"Good?" Killer got up and folded his arms again. "Now kiss." He made a motion of pushing your heads together. 
You relented, facing Kid and planting your lips on his. He ran his hands lovingly over your cheeks and into your hair. You pulled back and rested your forehead on his. "I'm sorry for being stubborn. And thank you for not being an asshole to Mini."
"I've never been an asshole in my life. Tell her, Killer."
You rolled your eyes again and sighed, feeling a lot better than you had.
"Next time, because there will be a next time, we're going to talk about it together instead of you two being nightmares for the entire ship. Deal? Heat is gonna fucking quit if you keep dragging him in." 
You and Kid nodded, regretfully. 
"Or else you'll get seastone manacled together until you can be nice to each other."
You and Kid glanced at each other, neither exactly opposing that idea.
Killer shook his head and put his hand to his helmet. "Get dry clothes on and get back to work."
You got up and squeezed Killer's midsection. "Sorry for making you worry."
"Aye, sorry." 
You were squished as Kid came from behind you to also hug Killer. Your head was being crushed from all sides by four huge manboobs. A much more preferable way to die than drowning. Shockingly, Kid didn't even get a boner. Wondering what was taking so long, you looked up to see Kid planting red lipstick marks all over Killer's helmet. You had no right to be annoyed, happy to see your boys being affectionate with each other. You could stay here a few minutes longer.
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Kid dragged you to his workshop. He was dying to show you something, and that was why he had been pestering you earlier. He wouldn't tell you what it was. Killer was following you quietly. Even he didn't know what it was, though he had a pretty good guess. Kid made you sit while he rummaged around through his things. You weren't sure why he always had to be rummaging. Why wasn't anything organized? This was his space. It wasn't like anyone but him was making a mess.
While you waited, there was a crumpled piece of clothing on the corner of Kid's bench. It was peppered with smeared eyeliner and Kid's red lipstick. A sweat rag? You picked it up, fabric unfolding and revealing black kanji. This is-! You unfolded it in your lap. It was tattered and stained but it was your coat. Your fingers traced over the marks that were clearly left by Kid. 
"Was gonna give it back. Meant ta clean it first." Kid was scratching the back of his head, a reddish hue developing on his cheeks. 
"You saved it?" You had assumed it was lost when you were taken. 
"And this." Kid held your gunblade out in his hands. "Hope ya don't mind, I tweaked it again."
He did more than that. It was shiner that it had ever been, and it was adorned with intricate snake designs that hadn't been there previously. He had taken your criticism from the last time and applied it. Against his professional judgement, he kept it weighted how you liked. You looked from it to your coat. Your stomach clenched with guilt. If you had known he had don't all of this, you wouldn't have questioned his feelings for you. You brought your coat to your face, to cover the emotions that ran through it. Tears threatened to make themselves known. 
"Don't ya start being a crybaby on me. Ya won't be able to see the other thing I made ya." Kid pulled your hands away from your face. 
You looked into the palm he had held out. It was a small marble-like object. You didn't understand. With the wires attached to it, it sort of resembled... "This is-!" You stood up abruptly and took it from Kid's palm. Inspecting it further, there was no doubt that it was a replica of your eye. "Kid!" 
"Wanna try it?" Kid offered, cheeks radiating with blush. "Just... Don't be upset. It may not work initially. I haven't gotten to test it or-"
"Shut up! Of course it will work! You made it!" You looked at it and gave it back to him. "How do we do it?"
Kid pointed to an open book on his desk, one of the medical reference books that had been in the infirmary. You noticed it was gone, but thought Pomp, UK, and Reck had taken it again to look at the naked anatomical pictures. He explained where the wires should connect and that he could get them there, you would just have to use your fruit to make that possible. You did it with on eye. This wasn't that different. This one had been gone much longer though, and your brain had grown accustomed to not having it, so the neural pathways may be altered. You studied the diagrams for a few minutes and talked it over with Kid. Then, you sat back down and tilted your head back to rest on the bench top. 
"Killer, do you mind holding my head still? I don't know what this will be like."
Killer put both hands on either side of your head and you held the eyelids open for Kid to place the mechanical eye into. It sat in the socket well enough, but now the connections had to be made. You and Kid had to work in tandem to put everything in place. With the flesh eye, you could sort of control the things around it. This was metal, therefore Kid needed to direct it. You probably could have, but he had far better control over it. A jolt went through your body as one of the wires strayed from the correct path.
"Fuck!" Kid flinched, trying to stay concentrated. 
"It's okay. Keep going." You held onto his arm to support him. 
Killer watched, mesmerized by the dancing purple electricity melding with the soft yellow-tinged glow, each devil fruit power working as one. He held your head still, periodically feeling twitches and seeing your face wince. 
Kid pulled his hand away as a spark jumped to his metal finger. "Can ya see?"
The eye made a few jerky, mechanical movements, not quite in synch with your body. "No." You tried to hid the disappointment in your voice. 
"Hold on." Kid made some minor adjustments, looking back at the textbook for confirmation. "Try again."
This time the movement was much smoother, though still no vision. "Still no." You sighed. Maybe the problem was on your end. "Let me try." 
The best way to figure out the issue was to compare it to the working side. You couldn't see into your own brain but you could feel what was there, in a weird way. Everything was connected properly, the issue was that the path of the wires had missed a stop. Both eyes were being used by the same half of the brain. Kid didn't realize that the optic nerve was meant to cross to the other side. The right eye went to the left side and the left eye went to the right, give or take a few nerve fibers. Very carefully, you brought the necessary connections through the chiasm, nerves intertwining with the mechanical fibers. The small metal pistons that acted as muscles worked fine, they needed time to attune to your control so they would move more fluidly, but you could deal with that. 
You cracked the smallest opening in your eyelids, afraid that it wouldn't work, and saw a sliver of light through both. BOTH! They opened the rest of the way and you sat bolt upright, taking in everything around you, everything that seemed so much brighter and vibrant. Your eyes darted around the room. How will the ocean look? The ocean! I have to see the ocean! You were caught by strong hands before you could run out the door. 
"Whoa! Can you see? Everything ok?" Killer looked down at you, holding your shoulders tight. 
You pulled him down by the helmet, too fast, almost knocking yourself out, but you had to see. You had to see his blue eyes. How much of the blue had you been missing? You brought your new eye up to one of his eye holes, trying to get a glimpse. Even in the shade of his helmet, you could see glimmering blue. You released him and he did the same. You looked around the room frenetically for Kid, running to him and yanking him by the shirt until his face was at your level. You held his face between your hands looking at every freckle in new detail. And his eyes! They weren't only amber, but orange and golden, too. There was nuance that you had missed before.
"Holy shit." You breathed. You clapped Kid's head between your hands, slapping his cheeks. "I can see, you baby back bastard! You son of a bitch!" You shook his head in your grip and hugged it. "You fucking did it!" Remembering that you wanted to see the ocean, you practically threw him away from you and zipped out the workshop door. 
Killer allowed himself to chuckle. "Baby back bastard? That's new."
Kid's chest was puffed out and he had his signature grin plastered on his face, framed by two small, red handprints from where you slapped him. He was virtually levitating with how much pride was radiating from him. "Of course I fuckin did it. I'm me!" 
They followed you out, seeing you bent over the railing with your eyes as close to the water as possible without falling in again. Killer grabbed your waistband, sighing. He didn't want to spoil your good time by reprimanding you. 
"It's so fucking blue! Have you seen this shit?!" Suddenly, numbers popped into your vision, scaring you so badly that you jumped back. "What the fuck!?" You swatted at the air where they appeared to be. 
"Ya didn't give me time to explain all the features," Kid said, preventing you from falling backwards.
"Features?"
He laughed. "Ya didn't think I was gonna give ya some dumbass plain eyeball, did ya?" Kid handed you your gunblade. "Here. Point this at somethin random." 
You did as he said, pointing it at the deck some distance away from you. The numbers popped back into your vision, changing depending on where your gun was pointed. When you lingered, crosshairs also flickered into view. "No fucking way."
"That's not all. Look here." Kid pointed to the pulse point in his wrist. 
You holstered your weapon and the display vanished from your sight. Staring at his wrist, a new set of numbers came into view, numbers you recognized as heart rate. You flung yourself at Kid, throwing both arms around him. You released one to reach for Killer, who gladly accepted your hand. At the moment, you had no words. Kid gave you something that you hadn't had in years. You took it back, the thing about always being the one to give. Kid gave, too. It was simply a different kind of giving. You pulled your face out of his cleavage, this time not trying to hold back tears. 
"Thank you, Kid! Thank you. Thank you! It's so beautiful. Everything is so beautiful!" 
"Wait until you look in a mirror," Killer added. He didn't mean for it to be cheesy. He only noticed how you were so excited to see everything, you forgot about yourself.
"Now that's an idea!" You ran into the infirmary bathroom where the nearest mirror happened to be. 
Killer gazed at you adoringly as you saw your own face. Finally, you could learn to appreciate what they had noticed a long time ago. 
It had been some time since you had seen yourself this clearly. Part of you thought you would be disgusted by the scarring on your face, but that wasn't so. It reminded you of how much it took to get to this point. You traced the semi-circle of a scar that went through your old right eye, then the outline of where the acid had melted your skin. It held all of your anguish, but your triumphs as well. Where some might see a disfigurement, there was only strength. You stared at one eye and then the next. They were exactly alike. How Kid managed to get it to match that well, you didn't know. Maybe you did. He always seemed to be watching you, though maybe it wasn't watching so much as it was looking. Kid's eyes followed you all the time. Had he had memorized the details? But why would he? 
You ran back to Kid, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Killer, who was kind enough to bend down for you. You did a running jump at Kid, which he, thankfully, was prepared for, lest you both fall int the ocean again. Kid caught you as flew at him. "Ha-ha! You stupid fuck! You love me back!" 
Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns
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mxnhoo · 3 months
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when i first saw you. (k. sn) - ch1
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synopsis : a handsome man you saw at the cafe you worked at simply became more than a stranger to you. genre : romance, angst??? (idk LOL), sunoo is the same age as the reader, sunoo is extremely sweet pairing : kim sunoo x reader (ft seungmin and jeongin from skz) w/c : 3.3k a/n : i wrote this for a customer who i served once and he made my heart explode in the 2-3 minutes i was interacted w him. spoiler alert, i never saw him again, LOL. my love life seems pretty tragic. ALSOOO this entire week i'm busy, and the week after my school is resuming so i'll have lesser free time :( i'll be less active, but i'll try to write when i can! originally i wanted to release this all in 1 part but i dont really have time to finish it and i wanted to feed ya'll with some content for now! hope ya'll enjoy this~
chapter 2 (in the making)
•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•
You groaned looking at your updated work schedule on your phone screen. Once again, you were being forced to work longer hours than what you requested for in your part-time job.
"They even said I'd only be working 5 hours for the entire week, are you fucking serious?" Your eyebrows were furrowed, and you groaned, leaning your head back to rest your head against the headboard of your bed.
You were a university student that was working a part-time job to earn some extra cash, and your school schedule typically wasn't hectic, so you usually you'd be able to work a lot every week.
However, it just so happened that the few weeks you requested to work only a bit, the higher-ups just had to ignore your request and give you your usual working hours. Why do you want to work lesser these few weeks? It's because it was period of time where projects are starting to be announced, exams were coming up, and you desperately needed just a few weeks to just mentally prepare and finish up last-minute things.
But oh well. You lose your time, but earn more money. A win is a win. All you needed to figure out now was how to manage your time well since you had juggle your school, physical and work life.
Entering the cafe you worked at, you greeted your colleagues and flashed at the smile at the customers that came by often. Walking into the staff room, you placed your belongings on one of the tables at the corner. You tied up your hair into a low ponytail, and placed a cap over your head, wearing an apron afterwards. You quickly checked your phone to do a time check.
5:56p.m.
Your shift ends at 11, and you have about 5 hours and 4 minutes to go. You became irritated remembering the fact that if the higher-ups had respected your request, you could've been at home by 8, but what can you do? You let out a quick sigh before keeping your phone in your bag and punching your card.
You worked as a barista at the cafe near your school, and the experience wasn't really that bad — you could even say that it was quite a fun job, but sometimes the timings they made you work and the last-minute requests from your colleagues to cover them up pissed you off. Especially today, since you had just gotten 2 new projects and 1 assignment.
Seriously man, your cafe should seriously get more employees. The way they were relying on you was crazy.
You stepped out into the working station, and realised that the cafe was pretty packed. It was quite normal since it was peak hour, and you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the customers you would have to deal with in a while.
"Hi! Could I get your order?"
"Hello! What would you like to order?"
"Anything else for you, sir?"
"Thank you, see you again!"
"I'll bring this right at your table! You can go sit down!"
"What seems to be the problem here?"
"Could I get your name for your drink?"
It was task, after task, after task, and you would be lying if you said you weren't exhausted. You were completely overstimulated, and you felt that if something small were to go wrong you'd literally explode. Sweat ran down your forehead as your eyes struggled to stay open.
Time check : 9:58p.m. 2 minutes to closing.
You were extremely relieved that the entire cafe was empty, and that it was just you and your colleagues. You leaned against the counter as you closed your eyes, finally having a chance to rest after a hectic day of work. Your 2 colleagues were in the staff room, chilling before it was time to do closing.
You were feeling relaxed, until you heard the chimes of the bell ring, indicating the door was opening. You instantly felt ticked off, pissed off at the fact that someone was coming in JUST 2 minutes before closing.
"Fucking hell." you mumbled to yourself before releasing a deep breath and walking towards the counter, head hanging low from exhaustion.
"Hello! Could I get a chocolate milkshake?" a deep voice spoe out.
Are you fucking serious? You came in this late just for a chocolate milkshake?
"Okay! Sure! Anything else?!" you quickly shot your head up looking at the figure in front of you, eyebrows slightly furrowed and your tone sounding annoyed.
Next thing you know, your eyebrows were raised, and your heart practically skipped a beat. The figure standing in front of you was a male. Not just any male, an extremely attractive one.
He was tall, his shoulders were broad, his eyebrows were straight, his nose bridge was high, his eyes were extremely pretty, his lips were soft and glossy, his clear glasses that framed his face so perfectly, his fringe perfectly falling onto his forehead, and his ear piercings making him seem more attractive. The cherry on top was how well he dressed and how good he smelled — he smelled like vanilla.
Fuck. Out of all people, I just had to lash out at this... flawless man.
You thought his smile would drop from the way you replied to him, but his smile remained plastered onto your face, making your heart beat even faster. Fuck? He was so attractive?
"Nope, that's all!" he said cheerfully.
Oh. My. God.
You were discovering something new about yourself, and it was the fact that you liked happy and soft boys. Typically, all the boys you went for had a gangster vibe, but none of them had you flustered at the first meeting like this.
You gulped as you nodded, eyes breaking the eye contact as you nervously keyed his item into the cash register.
"T-that will be $6.40." you said, trying to put up a professional front, but the nervousness in your tone giving you away.
"I'll pay by cash!" he spoke out again, his voice making your heart skip a beat.
You nodded again, looking at him as he takes out his wallet. You glanced down at his hands, and boy oh boy were they pretty too. His fingers were long and slender, different to what you usually liked — short(er) and veiny. He took out the exact amount and offered it to you, maintaining his pretty smile.
You nervously smiled at him as you took the money from it, putting it into the cash register and a receipt came out.
"N-name?" you whispered nervously. "What?" "Y-your name? For the drink." "Oh! Sunoo, my name is Sunoo!"
You were writing down his name on the receipt, but you spelled it as 'Sunoh' and your handwriting was all ugly too. Sunoo took notice to it.
"Ah! No that's not how you spell it."
Without any warning, he leaned closer to you, holding and guiding your hand that was holding the pen to write his name correctly. Fuck, the handwriting was still terrible but at this point you didn't care. Did he just technically hold your hand?
At this point, blood was rushing to your face and you were blinking at him, completely flustered and confused. After you two finished writing his name, he leaned back, smiling at you again. You blinked at him a few more times before you stood up properly and nodded, walking away to make his drink (and almost tripping a few times).
The entire time you were making his drink, you could feel his gaze on you and it was causing you to make a few spillages here and there. Your colleagues opened the staff room door, causing you to jump and spill even more.
"Oh, we still have customers?" your colleague, Jeongin, spoke out. Jeongin was one year younger than you, but you both bonded well and hung out sometimes outside your part time job regardless.
If you were still angry, you would've just lashed out at Jeongin for scaring you since you and him were pretty close, but the way you were so flustered, you just quietly nodded at him, continuing to make the chocolate milkshake the pretty boy wanted.
"Oh hey! It's Sunoo!" your other colleague, Seungmin, spoke out. Seungmin was the same age as you, and you both shared a few classes. You watched as Seungmin walked out of the working station to dap Sunoo up.
"You know him?" Jeongin questioned. "Yeah! Him and I are in the same classes and hang out!" Seungmin replied, then turned back to Sunoo "First time visiting?" "Mmm'yeah!" Sunoo replied, his voice making your heart beat faster.
Not wanting to eavesdrop further, you continue to make Sunoo's drink, feeling less tense since Sunoo had something else to focus on instead of you.
The boys continue to have their conversation, and after a while, you finally finished making Sunoo's drink. You sprayed the whipping cream and placed the dome lid, placing a straw inside and turning your back to serve Sunoo his drink.
"Your drink." you said coldly, not trying to make your feelings obvious. "Thank you!" he flashed you another smile before taking the drink into his hand.
He was about to walk out until Seungmin called out to him. "Hey, leaving so soon? Wait until we close~"
You watched as he turned back, his hair slightly moving. You thought you were hallucinating, but his gaze shifted to you for a few seconds, then back to Seungmin.
"Nah, I have to get started on the project."
The project? Was he in the same class as Seungmin? Wouldn't that mean Sunoo would be in the same class as you as well? If he was in the same class, why have you never noticed him at all? He definitely would've stood out to you?
Seungmin's voice broke your train of thought. "Boriiiing.. anyways, i'll see you in class", he quickly turned to you "and Y/N too, since she's in our class!"
Sunoo turned back to you, nodding and grinning at you. Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest.
"I'll see you both then!" Sunoo announced, before leaving, the door bell chimes ringing once again as the door opened and closed.
Your eyes blinked as you processed what had just happened. You had just met a flawless man, who had apparently been in your class for the semester and you had absolutely no clue at all.
Jeongin started clapping, "Chop chop, time to get back to work and get the fuck outta here."
You slowly nodded, still in a daze as you slowly moved. The 3 of you started cleaning up and doing your usual tasks for closing.
You couldn't sleep. At all. Your dark eyebags were painfully obvious that even someone could notice from a distance. You were sitting in class, waiting for the lecture to start and you were about to fall asleep, until someone spoke right beside you.
"Gyar!" a loud voice instantly woke you up, frightening you and you quickly sit up, eyes widened as you look at the person who did it.
Kim Seungmin.
"God Seungmin! You didn't have to scare me like that!" your heart was beating fast from the adrenaline, and you playfully smacked Seungmin on the shoulder. Behind Seungmin you could see a familiar figure sitting down. It was the person who kept you all night, oh my lord.
Sunoo looked at you and smiled, "Hey, don't scare her like that!" he said, playfully scolding Seungmin.
Seungmin stuck his tongue out to Sunoo playfully before looking back at you.
"Why are you here..?" you asked, puzzled at the fact both Seungmin and Sunoo were sitting beside you.
"We have the same classes.. duh.." "I know! But like.. why here?" you were referring to the fact that they were sitting beside you. "Ohhhh. I mean in class I usually sit with Sunoo, but since you two know each other now, I just thought that the 3 of us could sit together now?" Seungmin said, an innocent smile on his face.
'two know each other', '3 of us sit together'. No freaking way, you were going to be hanging out with Sunoo now. You blinked your eyes at him before you slowly nodded.
"Y/N" a soft voice spoke out, and it belonged to Sunoo. You instantly shot your head up to look at the pretty boy.
"Are you okay? Did you not get enough sleep?" his voice so comforting and soothing, if you could you would've slept to it.
"N-nah I'm good. I slept properly" — you didn't. "She always looks like that though" Seungmin teased, giggling at you as you glared at him and playfully smacked him again. Sunoo laughed at the two of you, and before you knew it, the professor came in indicating that class was starting. You opened your laptop, ready to take down notes.
Halfway into the class, Seungmin, who was in between you and Sunoo, was already dead asleep. Boy was softly snoring as he rested his head on the table. Gosh, so much for the boy who was just making fun of you earlier.
You heard sounds of the chair dragging near you, and you didn't question it, attentively listening during class. Suddenly, from the side of your view, you saw the chair beside you being dragged, and Sunoo sitting down beside you. Your eyebrows raised as you watched Sunoo sit himself beside you. He looked at you and whispered "I didn't understand this part, could you explain to me?" as he pointed to something on your laptop screen. You gulped as you nodded, starting to explain the concept to him.
The entire time you were explaining the concept to him, he maintained eye contact and constantly nodded, letting you know that he was listening attentively. He was tilting his neck the entire time and the way he looked was so attractive, it was impressive that you managed to even explain it to him properly.
"Thanks Y/N! You're pretty smart" he complimented, giving you a smile that never failed to make you go insane.
You smiled back at him, and was about to focus back to the lecture, until he spoke again.
"Are you working again today?" "Ah.. Um, yeah I am. Why?" "Ooh okay! I'll drop by later, then!"
Considering how tired you were, you were dreading work. But the fact that Sunoo said that he'd come by made you feel excited for work. You smiled, "okay, I'll see you then".
After this class, it was lunch, then 1 more class and you would be off to work. Seungmin suggested that the 3 of you would eat together, and so the 3 of you were off to one of the nearby food courts.
"What are you buying, Y/N?" Sunoo questioned, looking at you. "I think I'll just buy some banana bread, I'm not that hungry right now." "Are you sure? You might get hungry later" his voice sounding concerned.
You hummed in response, nodding your head. The way he was looking after you, it made your chest feel fuzzy. If he wouldn't mind you would've kissed him by now.
When the 3 of you sat down, you ate the banana bread that you bought from a nearby convenience store and Seungmin and Sunoo were both eating proper meals. Sunoo would occassionally share his food with you and even feed you. His body language was giving you so much hope, but you didn't want to rush it considering you only met the boy yesterday.
After this, you went to class alone since both of them had different classes. As soon as class ended, you rushed to work, feeling excited at the fact that you were gunna see Sunoo later.
Should I prepare his chocolate milkshake in advance? What if he orders something different? What if I prepare it too early and all the ice melts?
You entered your workplace, being cheerful as you greeted everyone and your colleagues. Today, you were working with Jeongin and someone else you weren't particularly close with. You punched your card 5 minutes early and started working, shooting your head up to the door everytime the door bell chimes rang, looking out for Sunoo.
Sounds of the bell chimed, and you looked up, finally seeing the figure you had been so eager to see, but he was beside someone. Another girl. Your smile instantly dropped, and you instantly looked away, trying to find different tasks to do to keep yourself occupied so your other colleagues would serve him in your place.
As you were cleaning the working station, a voice called out to you.
"Y/N!" you recognised this voice, and it was Sunoo's one.
You slowly brought your head up, instantly making eye contact as he gave you his usual smile. The girl beside him also looking at you and smiling.
"Ah, hey." your tone sounding cold as you slowly waved to him. "Could we order?" he questioned, still smiling.
You wanted to push your other colleagues to do this, but you realised that they were both occupied. You sighed as you went to the counter to serve him.
"Chocolate milkshake?" You stated, raising one eyebrow. "Yup, make it two!" he replied.
Who even likes chocolate milkshakes?
You rolled your eyes, annoyed at the response. You were clearly jealous and was trying to push him away.
You nodded, keying in their order into the cash register.
"$12.80." "Okay!" He handed out cash to you in exact.
You nodded at him as you took the money and put it in the cash register, giving him the receipt before moving away to make his order. Fuck, you were feeling bitter as hell.
After a while, you were done making the drinks, and called out his name so he could pick up his drinks. Initially, him and the girl were seated at one corner of the cafe, and when he heard you call him, he quickly got up and walked towards the pick-up station while carrying a small plastic bag.
"Thanks!" he glanced at you, before he slowly slid the plastic bag to you on the counter. "And here's some extra food in case you got hungry.. since you didn't eat much earlier"
You looked at him in surprise at his thoughtfulness. For a quick second, your heart was filled with warmth until your eyes quickly travelled to the girl he came in with, sitting down.
"You didn't.. have to. It's okay." you slid the plastic bag back to him, but he quickly slid it back to you. "Nope, I bought it specifically for you. Please have it." he quickly took the chocolate milkshakes that he ordered and made his way back to his seat before you could rebut. You watched him as he sat down and you sighed, taking the plastic bag in defeat.
You looked inside the plastic bag, and it contained all sorts of breads from the convenience store. Banana, chocolate, vanilla, blueberry bread. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?
Your heart felt warm, but you tried to brush those feelings away.
That girl was definitely his girlfriend right? I should stop talking to him before my feelings for him become even more serious.
You exhaled, as you continued your work, occasionally glancing at Sunoo and the girl. Your happy mood from the start of work quickly crashed down, and you dreaded work even more, anticipating the end of today's shift.
Work was even more hectic today, and once it was the end of your shift, you were thanking the Gods above. Unfortunately, Sunoo was still there, and apparently, he was alone?
When did that girl leave..? I didn't even notice.
As you were about to step out, you heard footsteps approaching you and someone grabbed your wrist.
"Could I take you home? It's late and all.. " You weren't surprised that it was Sunoo, but his request caught you off-guard. "No, I'm okay. Thanks." "Please?"
You turned to face him properly, and his eyes were pleading you to accept his request. You were so confused. Why did he want to walk you home? Did he wait for you? Where did the other girl go?
After thinking for a while, you finally responded. "Fine."
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mingiiwingii · 2 months
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Mastelist. Chapter 1. Chapter 2.
SUMMARY | Hes your baby daddy but he’s also part of the mafia- the boss at that. He left you without saying anything but leaving a note explaining how it was the best for you guys and he would miss you. Then disappearing completely out of your life never being seen again a month before you found out you were pregnant.
PAIRINGS | mafia boss father Bangchan x mother!female reader
RATING | 18+
WARNINGS | suggestive parts in the middle but not to detailed, swearing
NOW PLAYING | Too Sweet: Hozier
LENGTH | 3,377
It was your normal Tuesday, you woke up at around 6:00 like usual on weekdays. You got your stuff out for the shower and your outfit for the day. As you were moving things around on your night stand that you hadn’t rearranged since you first set it up after moving 3 years back, you saw a little piece of paper. You being curious as to what it could be you picked it up and opened it, your hands started to tremble as it was the note. The note that had the very words that broke your heart.
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You were on your way for work super excited since your day off was tomorrow and you’d be able to spend the rest of your night with your boyfriend. That meant you got to stay up all night long and wake up tomorrow at 11 but your excitement was later ended when you got home. You checked in every room for you boyfriend of 5 years now but you couldn’t find him nowhere. It then hit you that his car wasn’t in the driveway so he must still be in the office or worse one of those mafia meetings.
Your boyfriend was a boss, but not any boss. He was a mafia boss and although you hated it but, you loved it at the same time. Having a mafia boss as a boyfriend meant protection for life nobody messed with you when they found out who you were dating. But you didn’t really care about that as much as your mother protested against your relationship with the boss you couldn’t help but rebel agaisnst her wishes. After all you loved him he was your first everything since you guys started dating at 17 and 16.
He was your first love, first kiss, first boy you liked, first man to embrace you, first man to tell you that he loved you since your grandfather passes away younger than he should’ve and your father was a piece of shit. Not to mention he was your first time but he was also your last in all of those things.
You decided to just shower since you thought why not since you were at work all day and it’ll be good to unwind and relax. Even when you got out the shower he wasn’t there you went to sit on the couch and watch some tv as you walked past the kitchen to go to the livingroom you saw a piece of paper on the counter but you didn’t bother with it since you thought it was nothing. Even after an hour he still wasn’t home you decided to go to the gym for about two hours by time you got back home it was already 9 but also raining so you rushed back in the house still not seeing his car.
You took your third shower of the day which you only do if you go to the gym which is usually once in a blue moon. You got settled back in your night dress and decided to go make dinner since you were hungry and figure he would also be hungry since he had been out since 7 AM. As you stepped foot in the kitchen you came across the paper again as you went towards it and picked it up to throw it away you then seen the paper had a lot of hand written writing on it.
You decided to read it since you noticed it was your boyfriends hand writing and when you read the full note you immediately trembled and wanted to juice burst into tears.
The note read “hello my sweet girl I don’t what time your reading this at but I just want to say sorry for all of this. Sorry I couldn’t be a better man for you, sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up every morning and when you went to sleep most nights. I’m so sorry that I can no longer play the leading role in your life, I’m not good for you but your to good for me. I’ll always love you and you’ll always be the only women in my heart for as long as I’ll be alive. Sorry that I have to end our relationship like this but I truly hope you can move on in life and find a man who’s good for you. I may be stuck up on you for as long as I can live but I truly want you to be able to move on find a good man who can make you his wonderful wife, give you his beautiful children because they’ll take after you. With all do respect goodbye y/n.
A month later you kept throwing up once you woke up and your realized your period was late so your best friend said that she’d buy you a pregnancy test and so she did. You took 3 tests and they all read the same thing POSITIVE. You cried all night and day threw your whole pregnancy wondering how could you be a single mom and that the baby would constantly be a reminder of the man who had left you with a huge wound in your heart. When you finally gave birth the baby girl looked just like him when he was a baby.
You would always giggle with his mom over his baby pictures when the two of you were together but seeing that baby girl didn’t make you giggle it made you cry tears for days some were sad a lot were happy. You were just happy that she came out healthy and oh was she full of energy as she grew up just like her father. You struggle sometimes to be her mother because a lot of the stuff and things she did reminded you of him.
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You wanted to toss the note but you just couldn’t since beside your daughter it was the only thing you had left of him. You threw the paper back where you got it and undressed yourself to get in the shower. As you were about to enter your bathroom you received a text. Unknown number •is this Ms.L/N?• you felt that it was really weird that you got such a message so you responded back •why do you ask and who’s asking•. You then threw your phone on your bed and went to take your shower.
Why you got out the shower you dried off and quickly got dressed you then remembered the text you got so you opened up your phone and seen they texted you back •I want to meet up and talk about some important business we can meet up at a local café if you don’t feel safe about things• you didn’t know what to do but you took up the offer since it was a public area. •Alright fine meet me at le café at 9:45 am I have to drop my daughter off at school and I’m being something to my mother•
The person like your message then texted back •Would you mind waiting there for 15 minutes since I’m not free till 10:00?• you didn’t mind to wait •yeah sure• they replied back quickly •okay thank you I’ll get us a booth now and do you mine to order me an expresso?• you really didn’t mind •yeah sure what do I say when I get there since your booking the booth?• it took them about 5 minutes to reply back •sorry I was booking the booth I put it under your name• •okay I’ll see you then mysterious person•
You had finally put the phone down around 7:36 which made you a few minutes late to wake your daughter up but that didn’t matter since you don’t drop her off till 9 am. When you woke your daughter up she looked at her clock and realized it wasn’t 7:30 on the dot like usually “mommy why’d you wake me up late?” The little girl questioned you. You smiled and replied “sorry I was busy something” she then nodded her head in an understanding way jumping up out of her bed getting her clothes out. You left her room since she knows how to get her own clothes out and get ready for her own shower after all she is a big girl now.
About twenty- five minutes later she comes out of her room all dressed for the day wearing a pretty floral outfit. Your daughter grew up to be very pretty and cute maybe because she looks like her father. When she came downstairs she could smell her favorite food for breakfast cooking. You were only able to cook for her on Tuesdays since you didn’t have work every other day she would eat different cereals.
Todays you made her waffles with a home made batter, 4 pieces of bacon, 2 pieces of sausage, a scoop of grits, and some scrambled eggs. She may be 6 but she can eat a lot that’s something she got from both you and her father. She ate all her food within 15 minutes and after that you guys were out the door. When you dropped her off to school you happened to see the little girl again and she just so happened to see you as well. You didn’t see her coming but all of a sudden you felt a little girl hugging you legs. Following her was the the women who always brought her there. She kept on apologizing even after you said it was alright and you told her that you had recently ran into her at the ice cream shop with her father Mr.Bang.
The little girl looked at you puzzled “how do you know that my daddy’s name is Mr.bang when you guys didn’t talk that day?” You looked at her feeling that you were in some deep crap “well me and your father have run into each other multiple times even though they weren’t very good interactions.” She looks at you with bright look “so is that why you kept rolling your eyes at him and he just stud there like he was full of regret?” She questions you and you look at her and say “yeah sure that… anyway I have to go I hope to see you again soon sweet thing.” You guys then wave goodbye to each other.
When you got to the café they asked what was the name under and you told them your name. They then lead you to a booth to the further back and asked you what you wanted and you told them an expresso and a cup of green tea. After 5 minutes they brought you the drinks and you continued to wait for the next 10 minutes. When the booth opened you were annoyed with who decided to reach out to you then sit in front of you like they had the right to after all they’ve done.
It’s you” you say as you roll your eyes. “It’s me” he says in husky playful voice. “Mr.Bang since when did you drink coffee you say confused and intrigued that you didn’t get to see such a huge change in him since he always hated it. “Since I’ve been stressed and up all night Mrs.Bang” he says back in a husky tone.
You snort almost busting out in laughter “It’s Ms.L/N we were never married, anyway what did you want to talk about?” He lowers his head and says in a low town that “we never had the chance.” You tilt your head “what was that I didn’t quite catch it” He looks up at you and says “nothing I didn’t say anything anyway I was wondering about something.”
You look at him with a questionable face “alright speak while I’m willing to hear you out, I’m all ears.” He looks at you then intertwines his fingers and rests them on the table “who’s her father” You look at him puzzled wondering if you should tell him the truth or lie but you didn’t want him around nor in her life because you didn’t know if he would leave again so you decided to lie. “Not yours so it shouldn’t matter and for your information my daughter isn’t business she’s a human being.”
He nods his head “darling if you planned on lying to me at least make it more believable like come on Yerim bang. Last time I recall I was the only man you’ve ever been in bed with plus she has my last name and if her and my daughter go to the same school that means their around the same age. Six years old.”
You get mad at hearing him say his daughter meaning the other little girl he was with the other day at the ice cream shop “see you already have a daughter why do you have to worry about mines just worry about your own” you say slight loud with it being obvious you annoyed. He smirks a little “listen she is also my daughter that’s what I meant when I said we needed to talk about business because she’s my business as much as she is yours.” He bites back a little furiously
You scoff “Christopher bang the audacity you have to say that she your business as much as she is mine. SHES NOT YOUR DAUGHTER BECAUSE YOUR NOT THE MAN I SLEPT WITH TO CREATE HER OKAY.” You strike back slightly loud. You can see the hurt on his face it hurt you but you didn’t care he then says “SO WHY THE FUCK IS HER LAST NAME BANG?” He yells raising an eyebrow.
You slam your hands on the table “because that’s her fathers last name idiot.” He looks at you puzzled “see I am her fucking father you big small liar” angered.
You look at him mad and cross your arms “well you wanna know the truth Mr.bang” you ask raising an eyebrow. He nods his head oddly fast so you come up with the biggest fatest lie but it somewhat makes sense. So you nod your head slowly then lean forward “well to be honest with you Yerim is only my daughter not yours” you stop then continue. “When you decided it was a good idea to leave me I booked a flight for the next morning to Australia” you looked away for a quick second then looked back at him.
“When I booked my flight I took my best friend with me since I didn’t want to go alone. When we arrived she hit me in the head and asked me ‘what was I doing out her in this man home town looking for him when he clearly left you.” He cut you off “that’s not-“ you cute him back off so you could continue your story. “Her words hit me and really got threw to me and really wondered what am I doing her looking for a man who left in a house he brought all alone. So she suggested why don’t we go out to a club so I could get my mind off of you and I thought that was a pretty good idea.”
You took a deep breath as the next words came out of your mouth “when we went there about 20 minutes of being there this very handsome man walked up to me while I sat at the bar and sat with me. He complimented me and ask what was my name so I told him my name was y/n l/y and he said on nice to meet you y/n my name is Junseo bang. At first I thought so weird but then I didn’t care. He brought me some drinks took me to the dance floor we danced for a while then he said why don’t we get out of here”
He looked at you with a shocked but her hurt face and it semi broke your heart but you couldn’t back down so you finished talking “we went back to his house and I wasn’t really drunk so I knew where to go when I needed him. Anyway when we got to his house at first he gave me a glass of water and turned the tv. He put on of very good show until sensual scenes started to pop up and that made us keep looking at each other until we both ended up making a move on each other.”
You paused for a second then finished “I ended up on top of him we made out a little then we ended up tumbling to his bedroom while we took off each others clothes once we got into his bedroom the rest was history. You know how babies are made so I don’t think I have to tell you the rest to that beautiful night. Anyway a few days later I started to get morning sickness and me and you hadn’t had Intercourse for about two days for about a week before you left so I knew it wasn’t you but after I slept with him two days later I started throwing up and my period was late so I decided to take a pregnancy test. It came back positive so I went back to his house and told him since me and my best friend planned on staying there for the week.
You look at him while rubbing your hands on your legs “when I knocked on the door he was surprised to see me again but he smiled and asked what I was doing there and stepped aside to let me in then again he handed me a glass of water then I told him at first he was stuck and shocked at first then he nodded his head and sat back. But then he told me that he would come back to Korea with me and he would live there with me threw the pregnancy and our child’s birth so when I flew back to Korea he flew back along with me best friend. Anyway I have to get back to my moms I promised her I wouldn’t be gone for to long and if you don’t believe me I’ll send you a picture of her birth certificate and pictures of her and her father together.”
He looks at you for a second “I would like that actually.” You didn’t expect him to say that you expected him to except it but you already knew what you had to do “okay I’ll send them later I’m going back to my mothers house Junseo is there waiting he’s supposed to be taking her to the park school and he just likes to talk to my mother.” What you were saying wasn’t a lie except he’s not her father but it was true that he was there for you threw all this time and still is today.
You stood up and bowed to him then took your leave on your way out you quickly texted your best friend Junseo about what happened and he flew straight to your house to wait for you. When you got to your house you explained every little thing that happened. “Ok so whats the plan because I know you have one.” You look at him with a sneaky smile “ I’m going to print out a copy of her real one and since the real one is blink for the father’s signature your going to sign on the copy.”
He looked at you and smirked “that’s actually perfect and we’ve always taking pictures with each other because I’m her favorite uncle.” You couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when he said that because she would always beat him up. About two hours after that you took a picture of the fake birth certificate and sent him a little over 10 photos of the two together whether she was to beat him up or if she was actually enjoying time with him and the ones on her birthday all he replied with was a shallow •oh I see I’ll leave it be then• and he actually did or so you thought.
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softpascalito · 7 months
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We got your back - Chapter 4
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Summary: You work as a new DEA agent alongside Peña and Murphy. A not-so-kind colleague reveals more about you than you would like. You also realize you can sleep better if you're not by yourself. You're not the only one with that realization.
Relationships: Javier Peña x F!Reader
WC: 10k+
Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, mention of canon-typical violence, family issues, they arent specified but reader is implied to be from a dysfunctional family, literal sleeping together, one bed trope if you squint, tac vest javi, nightmares, cuddling, protective javier peña, mention of drugs
AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist
notes: we are back! sorry this took me so long, i started into the year super positive and motivated but then my best friend decided to fucking die so life hasn't been very slay. i hope you babes are doing better and enjoy the chapter <3
(i cope with humor, can you tell?)
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Chapter 4
“She could no longer think, nor were there any more images in her head. She was aware only of the softness of the woollen bathrobe next to her skin, and then of the nearness and warmth of a being that did not frighten her.”
- Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky
You have the first good day in weeks. Apart from the nagging feeling that you now have something else to hide - at least from Steve and the rest of your colleagues - you do feel well rested, getting through the assigned files and some more intel with record speed.
One of the higher-ups is celebrating a milestone birthday and orders dinner, causing more people than usual to stay late. Javi finds you in the crammed room where the plates of food have been set up and squeezes in next to you, flashing his signature charming smile, “May I?”
“Yeah, sure,” you mumble back, shifting slightly to give him more space. But with how full all the tables are, the people are a good excuse to let yourself get a little closer than you normally would. Somehow, it doesn’t feel weird, the way it likely would’ve before last night. It just feels safe.
You eat your dinner without speaking much, Javi practically wolfing his down. A frown spreads over your face at that, “You got plans after this?”
“Are you asking me out, querida?” Javi responds in between two bites, flirting so casually that it almost seems like second nature to him. Which according to the testimony of at least three women you know in the embassy, is exactly that. 
He cocks his brow as he turns towards you and for a split second, he looks serious, like he means it. The thought has you blushing furiously and you think you just may choke on a piece of your pasta when the familiar grin spreads over his face and with it, a similarly familiar warmth settles in your stomach. “I was just joking,” he reassures you again at seeing your cheeks change color and clears his throat before getting a little more serious.
“Wanted to go through some more files, not like this lot will get anything done tonight.” He nods towards the group of people gathered around the man who is apparently celebrating. They’ve finally opened up the first bottle of Aguardiente.
Of course, Javi knows that with the steadily rising alcohol level, he may just be able to persuade someone into giving him access to precisely the file he wants. Or at least provide enough distraction for him to sneak off and find it himself.
He can still hear Steve in the back of his mind, reasoning with him.
“Have you ever considered that the files are sealed because she wants them to be?”
He has, now. But he finds that he doesn’t really care. There is something there, something that might explain you to him a little more. A tiny voice in his head offers up the idea of just asking you, getting to know you like everyone else does.
But he quickly shakes that thought off. It’s nothing to him, personally at least. His interest is strictly professional of course. Nothing else.
Just as the first people start clearing out, Javi slips away too. You strain your neck, glancing around the room and towards the buffet but he’s nowhere to be found.
“Great,” you mumble to yourself as you follow suit and leave the table, heading out of the large oak doors of the conference room. A pit has formed in your stomach and it only deepens when you catch a glimpse of the time. It’s past nine already so chances are Javier really has headed off to meet some informant. You try not to consider who else he could be meeting and who else may wake up next to him in the morning.
Passing through the dimly lit corridors that lead to the DEA offices, you let out a small noise of annoyance with yourself.
It’s not like it’s any of your business what Javi does after closing time or who he meets. And it’s not really like you to judge him for it.
But today, you realize quietly, your disappointment stems from the pit in your stomach at the thought of having to go home to the apartment you’d rather forget and to spend a few hours tossing and turning on a mattress until it’s time to come back.
You haven’t met a single person on your way back to your office and you consider curling up next to your desk again. A glance around the office tells you that you’re not in luck, though. A few other co-workers still have their bags and jackets draped over chairs and desks and some will no doubt return to get them once they’re done eating. Javi finding you was one thing but they would be something else.
It takes a few seconds until the solution hits you and you take off past the open plan office and towards the smaller adjacent rooms in the back. The crammed file room that you’ve spent the last night in is sitting in darkness, the blinds almost completely closed. You decide against turning on the big light and simply make your way through the room- which is barely a few steps.
The orange glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds is enough to let your hands find the couch in the corner and you settle onto it with a small sigh, content to just be still for a moment. It’s a little eerie, especially since you’re not sure if anyone other than Peña and Murphy frequents the space. But the sounds that do drift to you are low and distant, nothing more than a couple of cars honking a few blocks away and a dog barking somewhere in the distance.
You draw your legs up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them for the lack of actual bedding and lean back, closing your eyes.
It doesn’t become apparent to you that you’ve passed out until you wake with a start. You’re semi-aware of something above you and you squint into the darkness of the room. You can’t see his face but there is the voice you know all too well.
“That you, cariño?” Javi mutters, already a blanket in hand that he nudges against you. It takes you a few more seconds to find your voice, bringing a hand up to rub your eyes, “Thought you left.”
“I came back. Here, go back to sleep. I’ll stay.”
You’re too tired to fight him, to put up any kind of resistance against making this a habit, to bring up that this is a bad idea, for the sake of both of you. The blanket warms you up so quickly, even more so with the way Javier’s body slowly comes to rest beside you. You think you answer something before you pass out again. You can’t remember what you say.
It’s not until the next morning, when you yawn as you head into the office kitchen, that you find out precisely why Javier snuck off last night.
There is cereal. And not the shitty kind- actual Cap’n Crunch, your favorite. The man beside you, who has a reputation for being a playboy and for never staying for breakfast, remembered the way you preferred your breakfast. It’s hard not to let it get to your head.
It does become routine after that. Javi lingers around the office until he can tell if you’ll leave or stay. Most nights you stay. Most turn into all. On the second night in a row, he lights himself a cigarette as he flips through a few more files before going to sleep. On the third, it goes from a bad to a really bad night when the nightmares you never seem to be able to get rid of come for you. For a second, you think this will be one step too far for him. But he barely seems to mind the way you cuddle a bit closer to him and he mumbles soft words until you go back to sleep.
He never mentions it during the day and neither do you. It’s almost like your sleeping arrangements are part of a different world, not the one that spins around your work, that’s full of drugs and death and everything else that makes sleep difficult. But Javi just feels- safe. He never asks too many questions. He just gets the blanket, sets his alarm, makes sure there is cereal in the morning. He feels like a godsent.
Of course, it’s only a question of time until someone notices something. You’re always careful to not head into your little room until everyone else is gone but occasionally, someone will show up too early or during the night- a spontaneous raid, a tip that needs instant investigating. Javi keeps the phone by his side constantly and it takes over a week for you to realize it may not just be to get alerts on developing situations but also to be alerted to someone coming into the office during unusual hours.
So when two weeks have passed and someone does catch you, Javi is glad it's Steve who is clearly just grabbing some files early in the morning and freezes in the doorway. He stares Javi down, who in return gently puts a finger onto his lips and motions for them to head to the hallway, gently closing the door behind himself as he steps out of the office.
“I have no way to be certain about Messina’s stance on this, but something tells me she wouldn't appreciate you bringing your hookers into the embassy,” Steve hums, unable to keep a small smirk off his face. Javi rolls his eyes in return, “I'm not an idiot, do you know that?”
He pauses for a moment and raises his hand just as Steve opens his mouth, “Don't answer that.” His mind is racing with too many thoughts at once. He’s not sure why, of all the things he could choose to tell Steve, he picks the truth when the lies would be so much easier.
“She was assigned a shitty apartment, hasn't been sleeping well. I remember you and Connie having similar issues after you arrived down here. With her, I figured we didn't use the room anyway and she-” he trails off. Steve brows have knitted together as the pieces slowly fall into place, “Somehow, a hooker would have been less complicated than a colleague.” There's another roll of eyes from Javi, the air a little thick with tension.
“I'm trying to help her. That's all.”
“You are trying to help her? Do you really expect me to believe that?” Steve shoots back, raising his voice until Javi motions for him to quiet down, nodding towards the door. The blonde man makes a face, but he does lower his voice as he repeats himself, “You expect me to believe that? You’re just helping her, no motive? It has nothing to do with you feeling the need to fuck your way through half the office by the time we finish the case?”
Javier actually groans at that, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. He moves his fingers to the side, using them to gently rub his tired eyes. His free arm is resting against his belt, the fingers twitching ever so slightly.
“Fuck you, Murphy. Just leave us alone and get your files in the morning.”
Steve looks like he wants to say something else, but then he thinks better of it. A small glare is sent towards his partner regardless.
“If you fuck this up somehow, Javi, I swear, I will make sure you get in real trouble. She’s too sweet for whatever you are trying to do here.”
It's two nights after the encounter with Steve- who has much to Javier's relief actually left them alone- when it happens again. It's been a particularly exhausting day for both of you, which actually made Javi hopeful that you'd both fall into a deep sleep as soon as you hit the couch. But it's been as mentally draining as it's been physically. And your mind clearly just won’t shut off.
It wakes him. The small stirring, the movement of your body beside his. He’s never been a particularly deep sleeper and Colombia has only made it worse, his brain seemingly always on alert to danger. So when he does wake, it takes Javi a few seconds to realize that the danger his brain is alerting him to is not a sicario sneaking into your room, it’s not a gun held to his head. It’s an entirely different kind of danger, one much less life-threatening but so much more complicated to fix.
A small groan escapes him as he reaches for the small light perched on the file cabinets, pulling the string attached to it. He blinks groggily as it flickers to life, bathing the room into a dim, dusty light. A few moments pass before he hears another whimper behind him and turns towards you, eyes already laced with concern.
Your features are scrunched up, lips slightly apart as the noises find their way out of your dream and into reality. Occasionally, a muscle twitches in your hands or your leg, making the whole scene even more eerie. But what gets Javier the most, what makes the pit in his stomach feel like one that could reach the ground floor, is the wetness on your face. Tears, undoubtedly slipping from your closed eyes and finding their way down the side of your face. It looks absolutely heartbreaking.
“Cariño,” he mutters under his breath, bringing his hand towards your arm and beginning to rub it in a gentle, circular motion.
“Wake up, it’s just a dream. You’re-” For a split second, he wants to say home. But he knows it's so far from the truth. He's not sure you consider any place in this country a home. Actually, he's not sure which place you do consider one.
“You’re alright,” he mumbles instead, adding a little more force to his touch and voice alike. His gaze never leaves your face as your eyes finally fly open, practically choking on the whimper that had just been leaving your throat. The panic is evident in your eyes, in the way they fly around, searching for something, anything to reassure you, to replace the pictures still floating in your mind. They find soft, brown eyes. It’s something to hold onto.
“There you are,” Javi hums, bringing his free hand to your face, his thumb catching the next tear that rolls out of the corner of your eye. “It's okay, you're safe. Just a bad dream.”
You blame it on the panic still sitting in your throat or the way you've just woken up, the way you don't even think about your movements as you move yourself into Javis arms, sneaking your arms around his waist and you think you feel him hesitate for just a moment before he wraps his arms around you in return, whispering reassurances into the dimly lit room and stroking your back.
You cry a little more, when the memories of the dream feel too overwhelming and he holds you through all of it, not once complaining about how long you’re taking to shake the thoughts off.
It’s a good half hour before you’re both lying down again, his back resting against the edge of the sofa, right arm wrapped lazily around you, “You want me to keep the light on for now?”
The idea seems a little silly to you but it takes you right back to evenings in your childhood bedroom, to what felt like endless nights of asking your father to plug in the small night light you'd gotten for christmas. It looked like a sheep, carrying a smile and enough light for you to be able to tell that there were no monsters hiding in the dark corners of your room.
“Querida?” You nod your head quickly, resting it back on his chest, “Yeah, I- let’s keep it on. If that’s okay.”
“Por supuesto que está bien,” (Of course that is okay,) Javier mumbles softly, his left hand reaching below your makeshift bed and producing a pack of Marlboros. You watch the movements of his hands, the ones you see him do at least ten times a day, his fingers reaching for a cigarette, placing it between his slightly parted lips. Pausing to search two pockets for his lighter before finding it.
At a small nudge from you, he pauses, raising a brow, “¿Sí?” You nod towards the pack that’s still resting next to him, “It’s really rude not to offer me one.”
“I thought you didn’t smoke,” he says, seeming genuinely confused for a moment and you almost take pity. You sneak your hand over his torso, drawing a cigarette from the half-empty pack, “I do now.”
To his defense, he does try and look stern for a moment. But he knows it'd be hypocritical at best if he of all people tried to stop you.
“It's a bad habit.”
“Well, then it's our bad habit.”
Javi thinks, for a split moment, that something entirely else is his bad habit. The way he looks at you when you fall asleep before him or the touches that seem to become more and more frequent the longer your sleeping arrangement continues. The way he jerks off in his shower at home, picturing your face, your body draped in his shirt a few nights ago when your blouse was simply too uncomfortable to sleep in. Spilling into his own hand with a groan at those thoughts. Yeah, that's definitely his bad habit.
“Are you going to light it for me or are you hoping it’ll disintegrate if you think hard enough?” You joke gently, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Teasing again already, are we?” Javi hums but he does reach for his lighter and brings it to your face, careful not to get too close.
He waits until you’ve both taken a few drags to ask his question.
“So what was it about?”
You swallow a bit at that, taking another long drag before you shake your head, “Nothing special. It’s already disappearing.” After another moment of thinking, you add, truthfully, “There was something with drugs in it.”
“Not very creative, I’d say. Five out of ten.”
You stare at him in disbelief, “Are you rating my nightmares, Peña?”
“I like to keep track,” he responds, giving you a small wink that you almost miss. You watch the smoke rising from the cigarette between his lips, sighing softly. You don’t like lying to him. Then again, it really was about drugs. Just not in the way he may think. It’s not your fault he’s stupid, sometimes.
“You’re silly. Go to sleep.”
“Go to sleep yourself.”
You do end up falling back asleep first, head still resting on his chest. Javi stays awake a little while longer, just in case the nightmares come back. At least that’s what he tells himself. And if he happens to use that opportunity to study your face a bit more? Well, it’s noones business.
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end notes: if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or leave a comment <3 also subscribe on ao3 or follow me here to catch the next update!
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hyprfixate · 11 months
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soul vine ↝ [L.M.] :: part four
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: when you decide to get an ear piercing as part of your transition to adulthood, you expect a lot of things, like the pain and the high price tag. what you don’t expect, however, is finding out you’re soul-bound to the angry blonde from the parlor. or that you’re technically not human.
but hey. adulthood, right?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: lee minho x she/her reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ chapter word count: 5.7k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags: magic au, grumpy minho, fantasy, medium burn, strangers to enemies to friends to lovers, soulmate au, gang au, minho has some issues to work out
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author’s note: I had to cut this chapter in half and then do some plucking cause... I got a bit out of hand. Please enjoy this longer than usual chapter to make up for my constant disappearances.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tag list: @mal-lunar-28 @dutchessskarma @weakforskz @liknws @goddessraven2371 @beaann @deadpoetsandhoney @poody1608 @soobs-things @3nch1i @babyphotos0325 @skz1-4-3 @justcallmemitchie96 (comment on this post to be added!)
part one - part two - part three - part four
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It was so silent in the room, you could hear your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.
You weren’t entirely sure what being soul ties meant, but with the way the atmosphere changed, you could tell everyone was now on edge.
Chan spoke, his voice heavy with trepidation. “Min…”
Minho shook his head and stood up from his place on the floor. “No,” he said. “I’m not doing this. Fuck this.”
And before anyone could stop him, Minho pushed past Chan and all but ran down the stairs. 
You stared after him, your body almost frozen in shock. You certainly weren’t the only one either; behind you, Hyunjin had his hand slapped over his mouth, and you were almost sure Chan hadn’t blinked in the last 30 seconds.
After a beat of heavy silence, the three of you turned to look at each other, and despite your overwhelming ignorance, you spoke first.
“I… I don’t understand.”
Chan sighed as you spoke, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “He always does this,” he muttered. He cleared his throat and spoke up. “I’m so sorry to leave, but I’m gonna have to go after him. Stay here with Hyunjin, and I’ll send Jisung up when I leave.”
He paused on the top step, stopping to look at you with an apologetic yet firm look. “We’ll explain everything when we can. But you have to stay here.”
And with that, he was gone.
You turned your attention back to Hyunjin, whose wide eyes were fixed on the staircase. He glanced at you for a second, an untraceable emotion shading his face, before fixing his eyes on the floor.
Your stomach twisted, almost feeling ashamed of yourself. What have I done? you thought. And what the fuck do I do now?
“Did…” your voice was tentative in the silence. “Did I just ruin Minho’s life?”
“No,” Hyunjin whispered. “I’m just… I never thought– we never thought we would… his soul tie?”
For some reason, guilt clouded your mind. Not for Minho, though you weren’t feeling particularly negative toward him anymore, but for Hyunjin and Chan. They both looked genuinely stressed at the revelation, which made you think that the deeper, underlying meaning behind this was not good. The only question in your mind now was whether or not you wanted to be a part of the deeper meaning.
Whatever it was, you could tell the workers at the piercing parlor were into some kind of trouble. If their magic story was true, it was something that was completely over your head. You’d lived a normal life up until now, and you were certain that you wanted to continue having a normal life. Magic bloodline be damned, you were not about to get caught up in a battle that wasn’t yours.
At that moment, you decided to ignore Chan’s warning, and go home.
However, you weren’t entirely sure how to do that at this moment. Chan had asked, or nearly begged, that you stay put so he could explain things when he came back. However, he had left you there. With Hyunjin of all people. Now, you’d only known the redhead for a week, and only saw him in person one and a half times, but you had the feeling that he would not– could not– stop you if you decided to run. At least, not with violence. 
You eyed Hyunjin’s frame, taking note that he was more gifted in height than thickness– if you ran, he would catch up quickly because of his long legs, but if needed, you could take him.
You watched him sit up and rub his hands along his jeans anxiously.
You nodded to yourself. Yeah. You could definitely take him.
You began calculating the amount of footsteps from where you were to the staircase. If you walked quickly, it would take about 5 individual steps from where you were standing to the first stair. There were at least 10 stairs in the staircase, then maybe 10 more steps out the front door.  With a quick estimate, you realized two of your steps were probably equivalent to one of his. If you could get to the stairs without being noticed, you would have enough of a head start that you’d be just out of reach for him, and could probably make it home. 
The more you thought about it, the more you realized that this could actually work. However, as you took your first scoot, Hyunjin let out a soft sigh.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “Please. Don’t try to go anywhere. I can’t let you leave.”
A cold chill ran through your body. What was with the telepathy? How did they always seem to know something before it was said aloud?
You turned around with your arms crossed over your chest defiantly. “Why not?” 
You hoped your glare would shrivel Hyunjin into a pliant little wrinkle that you could convince to let you free, but upon meeting his eyes you realized that he was entirely unaffected. Besides the still-present air of surprise and confusion, he looked at you like nothing happened– the same way he looked when he met you. 
For some reason, this made you angrier. You’d just been attacked, sort of kidnapped, learned that you weren’t technically a regular human, and found out you’re soul bound to the angry blonde in the parlor. Yet he seemed to talk to you like it was just a normal Tuesday. You stared daggers into his eyes, hoping you could melt his brain into soup with your glare.
He patted the space next to him on the couch, breaking you from your trance. “I’ll explain, just, please come sit down.”
You thought it over for a moment. While Hyunjin seemed nice enough, fundamentally you were still being held hostage by a group of men. As curious as you were about the situation, you were angrier, and you didn’t want to give the impression that you were comfortable being mindless and obedient. For all you know, this could be some elaborate scheme.
So, instead of walking toward the couch, you turned around and made your way to the staircase and started walking down the stairs.
Hyunjin called after you, his tone sounding almost like a warning. You flipped him off and continued your descent, laughing to yourself about how easy this was.
Your laugh proved premature when you heard Hyunjin sigh again, and then within a second, his fingers closed around your wrist. 
            You gasped and tried to jerk your hand away, but his grip was strong, almost inhumanely so. You spun around and tugged your arm away from him again, using your other hand to attempt to pry his fingers off of you. Even though you knew you were using all of your strength, his grip would not budge. After a moment of pulling, you glared up at him and noticed something looked… different… in his eyes. They were dark, almost like his pupils had dilated so much that they swallowed every millimeter of the soft brown in his eyes. His gaze was unwavering, and though you wanted to say something rude, you noticed you felt… off.
Your entire body felt like it was slowing down. Every thought seemed to go one mile an hour through your head, and you could feel every muscle you used to blink. It felt like you were being dragged through molasses or wet cement.You were terrified, and you looked up at Hyunjin with what you hoped were pleading eyes.
He parted his lips and said your name sternly. Still stuck like a deer in headlights, all you could do was stare at him and hang on to his words.
“You cannot leave.” His voice was serious and deep. “I understand that you’re skeptical and frightened, but I can’t help with that until you sit down and let me explain.” 
You felt so pliant and relaxed that it made you dizzy. Swaying a bit, you gripped the arm holding you to keep yourself from falling over.
“It’s okay,” Hyunjin mumbled. “I’m not going to let you fall. But squeeze my arm if you understand what I just said.”
Upon your gentle squeeze, the redhead nodded and guided you back to the safety of the couch, still holding onto your wrist. He gently eased you into the cushions, watching to make sure you wouldn’t fall over. As his hand slid away from your wrist, rational thought came back to you, and the dizzy feeling began to clear like ember dwindling from a campfire. You felt a bit breathless and pressed your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm your breathing.
Hyunjin looked sheepish as he stood near you.  “I’m sorry,” He sighed, sitting down in his spot next to you. “I didn’t want to use my powers like that, but I was scared you would leave.”
You stared at him blankly as he spoke. The brown was back in his eyes, shining like fresh coins in the summer sun. “Why shouldn’t I leave,” you said between breaths. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on and I’m starting to feel like a hostage.”
Hyunjin sighed, glancing up at the ceiling as tho he was pleading for the strength to deal with you. “Can I explain now?”
“Please do.”
“The reason you can’t leave,” he started. He opened his mouth to say more, but you could see the words get stuck in his throat. His annoyed aura was quickly replaced with one of anxiety. He began to chew on his nails, staring at the floor as though the answer would rise from the floorboards. Finally, he let out a huff of air and shifted in his seat. “You can’t leave, because if you do, you’re going to die.”
Lead dropped into your stomach as you stared at him. He couldn’t have just said that. Your mind was playing tricks on you. “I’m sorry…What?”
He shifted again and brought his hand back up to his mouth. You noticed his fingernails were down to the stubs, and he was now just gnawing on his skin nervously.
“You didn’t mishear me. If you leave, you’re going to die.”
Your eyes were blank as you nodded. “Okay. That’s what I thought you said. Are you going to elaborate or am I just going to have to trust you blindly.”
“No,” he mumbled. “I’ll explain. Just– give me a second.”
Watching him, you realized that this was really hard for him to talk about. He was nearly shaking at this point, his breath coming out ragged and labored. After a moment, he let out a deep breath and turned to you.
“When you’re soul tied to someone, it’s more than just an emotional connection. It’s a connection in every conceivable way: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Your lives will be intertwined forever, and you don’t have a choice about it. The bond is eternal.”
Your anger had now subsided, and you hung onto Hyunjin’s every word like it was the gospel.
“The thing is, you won’t know you’re soul tied to someone until you meet them.” He was staring ahead now, his eyes dull and almost lifeless. “And sometimes, you don’t figure out who it is until it’s too late.”
You shook your head. “I don’t understand, Hyunjin.”
He focused his eyes back on you, and you could see they were beginning to get red. His face was flushed, and he chewed on his bottom lip before continuing. “You can’t fall in love with anyone else. The magic of the bond won’t allow it. Even if you begin to think you are falling for someone else, you’ll get sick. So many people have lost their lives because they met their soul tie after they were already married or in a relationship. Not many people are fond on the idea of giving up their families for a total stranger.”
You nodded slowly. “So… I can’t leave because I’ll go live my life and possibly fall in love with someone and die?”
Hyunjin shook his head, and his expression was grim. “The magic of the bond thrives on physical connection, like being in close proximity. Once you know who your soul tie is, that’s when the power of the bond is activate, and the need to be physically close begins. When you’re with your soul tie, your powers get stronger, you get healthier– all the things like that. But if you’re not around your soul tie…”
He took a deep breath before continuing. “If you’re not around your soul tie, both of you will die. If something happens to you, your soul tie will feel it. And if you die, they die too.”
“So… by coming here and getting my piercing…”
He nodded. “You’ve sentenced yourself and Minho to death.”
Before you could even begin to process what you just learned, you heard a quiet voice coming from the staircase. Whoever it was seemed to be singing to themself under their breath. You stared at their shadow as they inched closer and closer to the top, your stomach twisting and turning with anxiety.
Jisung peered over the banister and caught sight of you and Hyunjin. “Oh!” His smile was bright. “It’s you again!”
You couldn’t find the strength to match his excitement. You waved weakly at him and went back to staring at the ground intently.
Noticing the somber atmosphere in the room, Jisung cautiously made his way over to one of the lounge chairs and paused. “I’m sorry… is this a bad time? It’s just that.. Chan told me to come up here when I was done with my last customer, so I thought….”
“You’re fine, Ji,” Hyunjin mumbled. He motioned for him to sit down. “There’s something you need to know anyway.”
You could see the anxiety begin to settle on Jisung’s face as he gently lowered himself into the chair. “What’s going on?”
Hyunjin took a deep breath before gesturing towards you and introducing you. “You remember her, right?”
Jisung nodded slowly. 
“Well. She’s Minho’s soul tie.”
Eyes wide and mouth agape, he glanced between you and Hyunjin as though he believed it was an elaborate prank, and one of you would crack. Taking in your already anxious and disheveled figure, he closed his mouth and proceeded to blink repeatedly.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Oh my G… I–what?”
“It seems like I’m a Sirid,” you offered weakly.
Jisung glanced at Hyunjin, who offered him a very weak shrug in return. The grey haired boy attempted to regain his composure quickly.
“Oh wow. That’s… that’s, um…. So, which clan are you?”
“That we don’t know yet,” Hyunjin cut in He seemed grateful for the change of topic. “She never knew she was a Sirid, so she never used her powers.”
“Wait, so, how did you end up here? In the human realm?” Jisung tilted his head in confusion. “Making a portal takes–” He cut himself off, biting his tongue. “Well, it takes a lot of energy.”
You shrugged, completely clueless. “I’ve just… always been here I guess.”
Hyunjin paused for a second. “What year were you born?”
“I’m 21 so… 2002.”
Jisung scratched his chin. “Oh, well that’s way before everything happened with Ardor,” he mumbled.
You peered at him, confused. “What’s Ardor?”
Jisung’s eyes widened and his face flushed. “Ah– no one–i mean, nothing! It’s not important. I shouldn’t have mentioned it at all.”
You turned to Hyunjin for answers, but his eyes seemed glazed over with some unreadable emotion. It was almost like he was having a flashback of some kind. Once again, you could tell that whatever backstory came from this was not good.
Eventually, the red head sighed, and looked at you. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I’ll tell you. Iphorus is… not like here. There’s a ruler appointed every 15 years, called the Templar. It’s like… a monarchy, but worse. Everyone is expected to obey and praise the Templar and anyone who steps out of line is considered unworthy, and can be banished or… killed.”
“Ardor was the Templar four years ago,” Jisung added. “He wasn’t bad, not at first, but then his wife met her soul tie and chose to be with them, not him. Things were.. Not great after that.”
“Things went to shit,” Hyunjin corrected. “He went absolutely crazy. He hired the best minds in the entire realm to come up with a magic stronger than the magic of the soul tie. He burned all of the text on soul ties and made a law that anyone who meets their soul tie while already in a relationship had to stay in that relationship and wither away slowly. If not, they’d be caught and publicly punished.”
“And by punished, I assume you mean…?”
“Yeah,” Jisung confirmed. “More death and stuff.”
“Then the war started,” Hyunjin breathed. “It was.. Nasty to say the least. The population dwindled by 20%.”
You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to beat the chill that just surrounded you. “That sounds horrible,” you mumbled. “How did you guys end up escaping?”
The two boys shared a look over your head before Hyunjin continued. “It was a hard decision,” he said gently. “But, ultimately, we knew didn’t want to be in that society anymore. So Minho rounded us up and.. We left through a portal. It’s been, what, 3 years now?”
Jisung nodded. “We can’t go back. Even if we wanted to.”
Your voice came out softer than you expected. “Why not? Can’t you just open another portal?”
Jisung paused, taking a breath before he continued. “No, we can’t. There’s no way to make a portal here– not unless you bring the materials from Iphorus. Even then it’s iffy because our magic is weaker here.”
“So.. you’re stuck here, essentially.”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin nodded. “But it’s not bad. It’s probably for the greater good of everyone that we stay here.”
You let out a shaky breath. “But.. what about your families? Don’t you miss them? Do they–”
Hyunjin gripped your hand quickly and shook his head, panic on his face. He had a finger over his lips, and told you with his eyes to stop speaking. You nodded at him, albeit very confused, before he looked away. You followed his gaze to see that he was staring at Jisung, who had that glazed over, flashback look in his eyes– the same one Hyunjin had earlier.
Jisung was trembling. He started digging his nails into his pants, scratching so frantically you thought he’s rip right through the fabric. You could hear him whispering under his breath, but his voice was so soft that you had no idea what he was saying. 
“Ji,” Hyunjin whispered. He reached over you and touched Jisung’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re here with me. We’re okay.”
Jisung put one of his hands over Hyunjins, repeating the comforting words under his breath. Though you were in the middle of things, literally, you felt so far away and helpless.All you could do was watch, and hope that Jisung would be alright.
After a second, you watched him squeeze Hyunjin’s hand and nod. “I’m okay,” he whispered. He looked up at you, the tips of his ears burning a bright red. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t… hearing about family is… not great.”
“I’m sorry–”
“No, you don’t have to apologize. You couldn’t have known.” 
He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “I have a… complicated family history. So hearing about it can make me a bit uncomfortable. But I’m okay now. I promise.” 
You nodded and let silence wash over the three of you as you stared at your lap. Iphorus sounded like an awful place, and though you were now technically a hostage of some kind, it sounded much better than being sent somewhere like that. It was a wonder how the boys seemed to get out mostly unscathed.
A million thoughts raced through your head at once. It was so overwhelming, all of it. You could feel the beginnings of an anxiety attach cresting it’s head over your conscious.
Hyunjin’s hand found it’s way to you, rubbing slow, calming circles on your arm. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“Yeah,” Jisung added sheepishly. “We’re here now, we’re safe from all of that.”
Your voice began to quiver as you tried to speak. “So… going back to the whole Ardor thing, is that… is all of that why Minho made the earring? So that people could find their soul ties and avoid death?”
“Something like that,” Hyunjin mumbled. “I don’t really know– it’s not my story to tell.”
“His invention did a lot of good during Ardor’s reign.” Jisung piped up. “But… I don't really know his intention for making it. Unless it was–”
“Either way.” Hyunjin cut him off, shooting him a look that you couldn’t decipher. His hand was still rubbing circles on your arm, and that cloudy, pliant feeling as beginning to return to your head. As long as you weren’t panicking, you didn’t really care.
“Either way, that’s our history now. We’re trying to stay focused on what our future is gonna look like.”
“I guess it’ll be the nine of us from now on,” Jisung said. “I wonder who’s gonna be your roommate while we clean up the guest room.”
“Wait, nine? There’s more of you?”
Jisung blinked. “Oh, I guess you didn’t meet everyone else yet. Well, you know me, Hyunjin, Chan, and Minho of course.” He held up fingers with each name. “That leaves Changbin, Seungmin, Felix, and Jeongin.”
Noticing your anxious gaze, he continued. “But they’re good guys! I promise, it’ll be okay.”
As you opened your mouth to reply, a banging sound came from downstairs. The three of you shot up out of your comfortable slouches, eyes glued to the staircase. You could hear feet pounding up the stairs and the pants of breath from two people. Your anxiety settled for a moment when you saw it was Minho and Chan, but when you noticed their intense demeanor, it quickly returned.
Chan raced over to the three of you, hustling you out of your seats with urgency. “Get up,” he ordered. “Now. We need to leave.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t have time to explain,” he breathed. “Just– please. We need to get out of here right now.”
You allowed yourself to get pulled off of the couch and nearly shoved into the corner of the room farthest from the staircase. Minho and Chan moved around the room in a way that nearly seemed choreographed, despite the air of seriousness looming over them. Chan shoved everyone’s belongings into a duffel bag which he tossed to Jisung. Minho, on the other hand, slipped on a black sweatshirt and beanie before standing by the top of the stairs.
Chan stepped in front of the three of you, pressing his hand against the wall until it seemed to disappear right before your eyes. A large black door replaced what was there before, and Hyunjin opened it to reveal a long, dark staircase.
“Get downstairs to the car,” Chan spoke. “Felix and Seungmin are already in there. Changbin is driving, do not leave without him. Understood?”
The two boys behind you nodded. As Hyunjin began making his way down the stairs,  Jisung slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and reached his hand out to you. “I know you still don’t trust us that much, but please, you have to keep holding my hand.”
As you stepped forward to grab Jisung’s hand, a feeling of dread washed over you. It felt like you would throw up any second. You could feel your mind begin to get rid of all rational thought and go right into panic mode.
No no no, your consciousness chanted. We can’t leave. Stop. Stop!
“Wait,” you cried. Your sudden outburst had both Chan and Jisung surprised, but you couldn’t calm your voice down even if you tried. “W-What about Chan and Minho? Are we just leaving  them here?”
“It’s for the best, they’re gonna be okay, but I need to get you out of here now.”
Jisung reached for you, but you stepped back, trembling like a wounded animal. For some reason you were terrified. Your entire body felt cold and your mouth felt like cotton.
You shook your head at him, and felt the words coming out of your mouth before you could process them. “No! I’m not… I’m not going anywhere!”
From the bottom of the staircase, Hyunjin called your name with urgency. “Please,” he shouted. “Come on, we need to go!”
“We’ll catch up, Jin,” Jisung called. He turned his attention back to you, his big doe eyes pleading with you. “I know you’re scared, but it’s an emergency and we need to go. I need to get you out of here, you’re not safe.”
You felt crazy. The dwindling embers of your rational brain begged you to go with Jisung, to run into the arms of safety and protection. But a louder, roaring fire spoke over it, and against all of your instincts you were desperate to stay.
Breaking you from your thoughts, Jisung grabbed your hand tightly, no longer waiting for you to make the first move, and he began to drag you towards the stairs. You dug your heels into the ground to stop him, but he just began to pull harder. He was adamant about leaving, and you were adamant about staying. You writhed in his grasp with such desperation and vigor, you felt as though your body would explode.
You couldn’t leave. It felt like your body would tear in half if you left the two of them there. It felt like you were being sucked into a whirlpool, water splashing around you and knocking the wind out of your chest. You couldn’t stand it. Though you knew Jisung was strong, you felt an unnatural strength take over you as you ripped your hand out of his and stumbled back into the room.
“No, we can’t… we can’t leave them here.” Your words came out breathless, as though you were having a panic attack. “I won’t go.”
A hand grasped your shoulder, and you whipped around to see Minho standing right behind you. He gripped your shoulder tightly– not tight enough that it would hurt, but firm enough that it would ground you. Your breath continued to rake its way out of your chest as you stared at him, eyes darting frantically around his face.
“Calm down,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Breathe with me.”
You let you eyes close, and without effort, your breathing began to match his rhythm. It was almost scary how easy it was to follow him. With every deep, dramatic breath he took, your body was able to copy him without a single thought.
The breathing was beginning to help clear the thick smog that covered your brain, and though you knew you weren’t thinking completely rationally, you felt clear enough to slow down and listen to what he was saying.
You let your eyes open, and found that he was staring at you intently. The expression on his face was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You were used to his scowl and glare, but now he was looking at you with a type of gentleness you didn’t recognize. Goosebumps raced across your flesh as you waited for him to speak.
“Look at me,” he said softly. “Look. I’m going to be okay. Okay? You can go. They’re taking you somewhere safe, and I’ll come join you when I’m all done here.”
“But–”
He shook his head. “It’s okay.”
Emotions overwhelmed you the more you stared into his eyes. It seemed like everything around you had faded into nothingness, and you and Minho were alone in an entirely white room. Your senses were filled with nothing but him– his cinnamon scent, the softness of his hands, the sound of his heartbeat. You were entirely engulfed in him, even your brain seemed to be chanting his name over and over like a mantra, but something in you wasn’t satisfied. You needed skin to skin contact. 
You lifted your hand and put it on his, and you felt your entire body come to life, almost like you’d been shocked with enough voltage to power a small town. Minho closed his eyes and grunted softly under his breath, and you knew he felt the sensation too.
He opened his eyes after a moment, forcing them into focus before he continued to stare at you. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand, and you felt yourself begin to tremble. 
“You can go,” he whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.”
You found yourself whispering back to him. “Okay”
Jisung took the opportunity to slip his hand into yours again, and gently drag you away from Minho and into the staircase. The two of you held eye contact the entire time. It was unwavering, intense eye contact that made the line of sight feel sacred. You couldn’t pull your eyes away until Chan closed to staircase door.
Though you were no longer in that weird trance, your mind was still fuzzy and your senses were still full of nothing but Minho, so much so that you were barely aware of anything happening around you. You knew that Jisung was running, and obviously you had to be running too if you were still holding his hand, but it felt like you were floating above the ground, completely untouchable.
After a moment, you found yourself in the alley behind the parlor. The air was thick with the stench of garbage and rotten food, and the ground beneath your feet was sticky. You look up to see that there was a large SUV parked with the back door open. You let Jisung guide you toward it, before he stuck his head in and said God-knows-what to God-knows-who. Upon getting a response, he turned around and offered you his hand once again. The fog of your mind was beginning to clear, and you stepped towards him and took his hand, climbing into the third row of seats in the car.
You were met with many unfamiliar faces. There were two people in the row ahead of you, one in the driver’s seat, and another sitting next to you. You saw Hyunjin’s red hair cresting over the passenger’s seat, and your anxiety began to dissipate. At least there were two people you knew. After a quick count you realized that the unfamiliar faces were all four people you hadn’t met yet.
You turned back to Jisung, who was sliding into the row next to you. Once he was situated and the seat was back in place, you felt the car vibrate as the engine started, then it peeled off into the street at what felt like a dangerous speed. You’d almost forgotten the dire situation you were in after… whatever that was, happened with Minho. Thinking about him being back in the parlor without you, your anxiety began to come back, and you began picking at the fabric of your jeans.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry,” Jisung whispered. He gently reached over and laid your hand flat on your leg. “Are you anxious about the unfamiliar people? I told you they’re all nice guys.”
Deciding to keep your thoughts on Minho to yourself, you nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t know them,” You whispered back. “And so much is happening right now. Do they even know who I am? Do they know about… you know?”
A sweet sounding giggle came from next to you. You glanced over your shoulder to see the most angelic looking man you’d ever seen in your life. His hair was bleached white and fluffed around his face, perfectly accentuating his symmetrical face. Freckles were dotted all across his rosy red cheeks, from over the bridge of his nose to around his eyes– which were nearly closed as his smile took up his  entire face.
“I know who you are,” he giggled. “You’re Minho’s soul tie. I’m Felix! Nice to meet you.”
You stared at him nearly in awe of his features. He looked like the picture of innocence and joy– almost out of place in the somber space within the car.
“You don’t have to be shy,” he continued. “I’m nice, so is Changbin and Innie.”
He leaned close and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Seungmin’s kind of annoying, but it’ll grow on you, I promise.”
“I heard that.”
“Stop bickering back there,” the driver, who, if you remembered correctly, was named Changbin. He adjusted his rear view mirror and peered at everyone. Your eyes met, and he lifted his eyebrow curiously, almost like there was a question brewing in his brain. He dismissed it quickly by shaking his head.
Despite his extreme speed, he maneuvered through traffic so smoothly you questioned if the other cars were even real. He spoke up again, “You all buckle up, I’m speeding.”
From the corner of your eyes, you could see Felix sit up in his seat and put on his seat belt. When he noticed you staring, he gave you another smile before reaching up and buckling your seat belt too.
“Oh– uh… thank you?”
“You’re welcome,” he grinned. 
He peered at you curiously through his long lashes. He seemed to be searching your face, or trying to read your expression. You held eye contact and, for a moment, his cheerful expression dropped and was replaced with something untraceable. But just as quickly as it fell, it was back. You thought your mind must have been playing tricks on you.
“You don’t have to be scared,” Felix said as he leaned back. “Everything is going to be fine. We’ll treat you like family.”
As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t even process what he said. Your brain was almost too full of thoughts, and it felt like it was going to explode. You were terrified, and rightfully so. Not because Changbin was speeding, though you were watching the speedometer intently, but because you were fleeing some unknown threat. Something that was bad enough that you need to leave immediately, and yet, Chan and Minho were staying back, preparing to face the threat head on.
What terrified you most, though, was the fact the the very fabric of your being felt like it was being torn apart the farther you were from the parlor, and as you stared at the setting sun, you gripped your knees and shuddered.
Please be okay, Minho you thought. Please please please.
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hearts4youz · 1 year
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The Captains Daughter -Chapter 6-
A/N: This chapter is a bit longer, finally writing some real action!! Expect chapters to be a lot less... boring from here on out. The first couple chapters were slow for the purpose of developing the plot and characters and yada yada yada. But anyways- I hope yall enjoy this chapter!!
Word count: 2k
Reader pov:
You flopped on your bed after dinner. Anticipation for the mission tomorrow morning rendering you unable to sleep. Your eyes flicked to the open duffle bag on the floor, clothes spilling out of it. Sighing you got up from your bed and moved towards the bag, picking up discarded clothes as you did. You opened the plain wooden drawers in your bedroom and placed your clothes in them, organizing them by shirts, pants, socks and whatnot. At the bottom of the bag was the one personal item you were allowed to bring, your photo album. Smiling, you reached down and picked up the binder. It was decorated with pink glitter, paint, and other craft materials. You made it with your friends in middle school, it was almost full now. Inside were pictures in as close to chronological order as you could get. You flipped open the binder, the glossy cover protected each of the pages, gliding past your fingers as you turned each page.
At the beginning of the book was pictures from your first birthday, your parents were still together. Your father's eyes squinted shut from his wide grin, you had cake all over your face and sported a huge smile of your own to match his. Your mother however, smiled less enthusiastically than your dad, a faraway look in your eyes. You frown as you focused on her. You didn't remember her much, one of the only memories you had of her being the night she left.
You were three years old, your father had finished your bedtime routine over an hour ago, but you remained wide awake.
"I can't do this anymore John," you heard your mom yell from the kitchen.
"Emilia. please, for Y/N," "please," you heard your fathers pleas.
"John," your mother said quieter, voice breaking.
"I was never meant to be a mother, I love you, so, so much but.." her voice was breaking as her sentance trailed off.
"You can't just leave me, you can't just leave your daughter because parenting isn't for you." "We're supposed to be in this together"
Your father sounded more upset now
"John I-" "You know how I feel about throwing my life away for a kid,"
"Throwing away your life? can you hear yourself right now?" he raised his voice.
"Yes, I can't even go out anymore cause I have to watch her"
"Y/N is the best thing that has ever happened to us, she is our life now." your dad yelled.
"Maybe she's yours, but she sure as hell will never be mine," your mom screamed.
You didn't understand the severity of the situation. You didn't understand why your dad stomped up the stairs, quiet sniffles leaving his nose.
You didn't understand why your dad hugged you tighter then usual before he dropped you off at preschool the next morning, or why he was always sad and drinking.
You didn't understand why mom wasn't coming home.
You closed the book. You didn't have any emotion at the thought of that night, you hardly knew your mother, never saw her again. Your dad explained it to you once you were old enough, once he was over it. The two of you did just fine alone.
Besides, there's a mission tomorrow, which deserves your focus. No need to reminisce on old memories. You laid down on the subpar mattress, falling asleep shortly after.
The next morning you awoke to your alarm blaring once again. Following your normal routine, you got dressed, splashed your face with cold water, brushed your teeth, and made sure your gear was set for the mission. You made sure your pack had everything you needed as well, forgetting something on your first mission wouldn't be very impressive.
You need to prove yourself, you thought. For your team, especially your father and Ghost. Your dad believed in you, you needed to make sure you lived up to his expectations. The harder task, proving to Ghost that you belonged in the 141.
Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you took one last look at your room, scanning for something you could have possibly forgot, and left.
The 141 gets to skip breakfast in order to get the mission done, you were grateful you were missing out on rock hard "pancakes," if you could even call them that.
You were told to meet in the bay, where they kept the vehicles. The plan was to take a Humvee to the drop location, hopefully the area would be clear of infadels, and you could be back by mid afternoon.
You took the stairwell down to the bay, which was basically a glorified parking garage, meeting up with Gaz along the way.
"You ready kid?" he grinned, looking intimidating in full gear. You on the other hand, looked like a kid in grown-ups clothes. Your boots were a size too large, tripping you up occasionally. Your tactical vest hung loose off your stomach. You really did look like a kid compared to the burly men in your squad.
"Ready as i'll ever be," you cringed at the corny reply you let slip out of your mouth. Gaz chuckled.
Gaz briefed you on what to expect as you descended the stairs, missions like these were routine, easy. He had told you.
You felt butterflies in your stomach, slight nervousness setting in as you entered the bay, which Gaz assured you was normal.
You reached the spot where the vehicle was parked, Ghost was already there, having a smoke. He nodded towards the two of you as you neared. You muttered a hello as he offered Gaz a cigarette. He held the packet out to you, offering you one.
"No thanks, I don't smoke," you stated.
Ghost scoffed, "You will eventually."
You furrowed your brows, wondering what he meant.
The three of you stood in silence waiting for the rest of the group. Price was next to arrive, then Soap and Alejandro. Once you were gathered, Your father went over the mission once more, then climbed into the drivers seat. Ghost entered the passenger side, Gaz and soap jumped into the middle row, leaving you and Alejandro with the very back seats.
The drive was mostly silent, until about halfway through when your dad kicked on the radio. It was set to some country station, your father hummed the tune, a few of the men nodded along to the song. After around three hours the vehicle slowed, merging onto a dirt road, after a few miles you came upon a small town, few people milled around the streets. Startled when they saw the armored military vehicle turning up the dusty path.
You came upon a run down building at the edge of the town, you were exposed to anything. If enemies were here, they surely saw you rolling into town. You didn't move a muscle when the car stopped, awaiting orders.
The fear really set in now, the severity of what could happen if there were in fact enemies hiding out in this building.
Your monologue was cut short by the sound of Soap slamming his door shut. You jumped up, startled.
"Relax," Alejandro chuckled.
You sighed, relieved that it wasn't gunshots.
The six of you piled out of the car, grouping up in front of the building. You all stared at Price, waiting for his input.
"Let's get in and get out, If anyone is inside they surely know we have arrived. I would have preferred a stealthier entrance, but I was given close to no information about the area to go off of." He said, any trace of your soft, caring father gone. Replaced by the stone faced military man he reserved for work.
You took in your surroundings, the building was old and weathered. Part of the roof was caved in, moss crawled across the damaged siding. Cracked windows decorated the outside, allowing for a look into the unfurnished building.
The group carried out protocol wordlessly, peering into windows to check for danger, planning entrance and exit routes, and assessing the situation. Everyone seemed to have a job, you were lost in the middle of it. Your father was too focused on the task at hand to help you.
Ghost noticed your slight distress and beckoned you over. He was crouched by a ground level window, pointing at something inside. You stood directly in front of the window, trying to make out what Ghost was pointing at, when you were taken to the ground by a large mass.
The wind was knocked out of you as you looked up at Ghost who was now on top of you.
"Stupid, Rookie mistake." he uttered.
"Is there anything inside that lump three feet above your fucking ass?" He spat.
"My what?" your voice trembled.
"Your head you twat."
"He probably saw you, you fucking imbecile," his words bit into your heart, tugging on the strings.
"He?" you gasped.
"Yes, you twat. There's a soldier in there with our supplies," he said, getting off of you, pushing his boot into your stomach after he stood, for good measure. As if you weren't humiliated enough, there was now a dusty footprint across your body.
Gathering yourself, you stood. Crouching behind the Lieutenant as he steadied his gun, taking aim at the man through the broken glass. A moment later you heard the crack of gunfire and the thump of a body hitting the ground. Ghost had hit his target and moved away from the window, flattening himself and you against the siding before anyone inside could return fire.
Your radio crackled as Ghost briefed the others on the events. Price gave instructions in return.
"Stay close," Ghost murmured in your ear, grasping your arm and leading you around the back of the building. With your free hand, you unholstered your own gun.
You followed Ghost as he rounded the corner. You heard the shouts in the distance as the fighting ensued.
Your radios crackled, "Entering the premises," said Gaz.
Ghost responded, "We're around the back, entering on that side."
Another voice chimed in, "Y/N how copy?"- your dad.
"With Ghost,"
"Copy" The back door was slightly ajar, Ghost kicked it open then stepped to the side for cover, nothing happened and he stepped inside.
The room you entered smelled of mildew and soot. It clearly hasn't been used for its original purpose in years. Pieces of drywall lay on the ground, pieces of broken glass mixed into the mess. Old, torn, and stained furniture was scattered throughout.
You scanned the seemingly empty area. Ghost did the same. Concluding that the coast was clear, the two of you walked further into the building. You suddenly heard the sounds of a skirmish above you. Grunting and banging, sounds of someone hitting the floor.
Gunshots
You and Ghost exchanged a glance before frantically searching for a way upstairs, hoping that the slain wasn't one of your teammates.
Ghost pressed a button on his radio. Once the two of you were officially lost. "Anyone caught in the fight upstairs?"
"Negative," multiple voices said.
Price took over the comms to give more orders.
"We've taken out about five so far. An unknown number remain. Stay cautious. Our supplies are supposed to be at the top floor. Lets meet up there. Once we have as much as we can carry we leave. If you meet an... infidel, you have permission to kill."
"Copy"
To be continued...
Taglist: @abbiesxox
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snek-panini · 11 months
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Happy Halloween! Have a book:
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This is Siren's Song by @kedreeva (Hi! I asked to bind your fic months ago, sorry it took so long XD). It's an incredible Good Omens siren AU, which needs no introduction from me but it gets one anyway. It's one of the most in-character fics I've ever read, tackles a lot of the most resonant themes of the original (love in the context of aromanticism and asexuality, human labels in the context of non-human perspective), and has incredible world-building. Later parts of the fic always make me cry but they're good tears. You'll see. When I first learned that fanbinding was a thing and started looking into how to do it, this was one of the first fics I thought of. It just took me a while to learn the skills I needed before I could do it.
More pics and process talk under the cut!
So the cover up there is black faux leather and momi paper that I bought...about two years ago? And just kept on hand till I was ready to do this project. This is the first time I've worked with it and it was fairly nice, though harder to get a nice crease into than lokta or chiyogami. It felt very fragile when I was handling it but I didn't have any issues with tearing or glue bleed-through like I thought I might. It did bleed some color when I got it damp with the glue, and it took way longer to dry than normal, but once that was done it's been fine. Which is nice because I have a lot left over, so it'll probably be making many future appearances in my binds.
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Look! It's rounded! I got a backing setup recently and this is my first time using it. It was Very Hard and I am not very good at it yet. But I think it looks pretty good for a first attempt, and there was really no other way to mitigate the spine swell on this one. I used a thick paper so I've got a thick book. I also tried something new with the case, though it isn't visible. Usually I make the text block and the case separately and then attach them as the last step, but for this one I actually built the case around the text. Like, boards attached to mull/tapes (sandwiched between thinner boards, with grooves cut for them so there are no bulges), then covered with momi, then leather corners and spine, then paste down the endpaper. It's got an oxford hollow, too! The tapes and mull actually wrap around the outside of the boards instead of the inside like I've done before. Endpapers are my favorite feather chiyogami. Combined with the marbled momi they make for a very opulent look, and I had just barely enough to do this. Like, down to the millimeter. I had to trim the edges and then glue the endpapers after to be sure they were right. I'm glad they were, because I didn't have a backup plan. Handmade endbands, colors picked to match the cover. Also, last note, I got the corner bits right for the first time. Measured properly, with no weird pointy bits that come out at funny angles. Very proud.
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Title page and bookmark/interior shot. Did you know that some basic fonts in MS Word look different when you use a huge font size? Because I didn't until I made this title page. That's Parchment for the title, and it only gets those swirly bits around the capital letters if you take it to 26pt or higher (I used 72 here). Now I wonder if any of the other fonts have easter eggs in them like that. The ribbon is very fancy, to go along with the rich endpaper/cover combo. I think it's pretty appropriate for a mythological golden age of piracy story, as are the text ornaments:
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Chapter header image, chapter end image, and section break image. It was a very image-heavy typeset. I was originally planning to only have a header and a section break, but I couldn't decide whether I liked the ships or the book/shell/feather better, and they both suited the story so well that I just went with both. Again, opulent, but I think it fits. All the images came from rawpixel, all I did was resize them.
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There was a small error in the trimming process. Comes of having to calculate so closely the exact amount you can trim off, that you have to trim off so your slightly-too-small endpapers fit. I think something got misaligned when I poked the sewing holes because only the first signature is like this. The rest of the book has a more appropriately-sized margin between the page number and the edge. I got very lucky here, and I know it, and I'm never cutting it this close (lol) again. Next time we just order another sheet of chiyogami.
And that's it! I have one author's copy and one new bind in progress right now (that's taking a while because I'm learning more new stuff for it), and then I have two Christmas gift books to do, so it might be a bit before I have another book to share.
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