#so on that note i feel like nobody would actually feel remorse or guilty over me like i wouldnt with them. just note that it's smth of vague | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oureuphoria · 4 years

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One-Step Forward, Two-Steps Back

Genre: angst, slow-burn, friends-lovers (kind of?), a sprinkle of fluff

Pairing: tattoo artist jungkook x college student reader

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of alcohol

Synopsis: You’ve heard of the forbidden love trope and it almost always ends tragically but, falling for your roommates fwb wasn’t forbidden, right? Besides, you totally had everything under control until Taehyung needed your help with a mid-term and used your (tiny, almost non-existent) crush on Jungkook to blackmail you into helping him. or “Help me pass the mid-term and I won’t tell anyone you have a crush on Jungkook.” “Library. 2pm. Don’t be late.”

Note: Oh boy, okay so I got a request for tattoo artist jk which was *chefs kiss* thank you anon. I was brainstorming ideas and then thought, tattoo artist jk but make it: angst. Therefore, this one-shot (maybe two-shot) was bred. I really liked writing this because I tried to focus more on the emotional aspect than humour which is what I normally do. Forgive me if the emotional parts are horribly depicted, I’m still learning! Enjoy readers, I love you all.

- Part 2

College was hard. You knew that much. But it didn’t help that everyone around you made it insanely harder. It was impossible to get anything done among the ruckus of your two roommates, not to mention their impending need to fuck at ungodly hours. They had simply no regard for your existence. They ate your food, used your stuff without permission, went inside your room and one time they even copied your class notes while you were sleeping. You didn’t hate them though, things could have been worse but in moments like these, you wanted to bury them alive.

You were quarter way through a video of the lecture you had missed when you began to hear the clamorous sound of Suzy crashing into your apartment with her fuck-buddy, Jeon Jungkook. Fun fact: you had a small, microscopic, tiny, itty-bitty crush on Jungkook that you’d never admit to having. He was actually super sweet but whatever douche-ness he lacked in personality, he made up for in looks. He had a full sleeve of tattoos and loads of piercings. He looked like every mother’s nightmare but from what you had been able to infer, he had the personality of an angel. You rarely talked to him and your interactions were mostly brief, only ever talking when nobody else was there.

It was a Sunday morning and you had gotten up at around 9am. You were on the kitchen island, eating cereal when you saw Jungkook stumbling out with dishevelled hair and a messy appearance. Naturally, he still looked hot and you choked on your mouthful of cereal. Your choking startled him and he chuckled at your loud coughs. You drank some water and eventually calmed down but by then it was too late to save you from the embarrassment.

“Morning Y/N.” He greeted you a little bashfully because he wasn’t expecting to see anyone as he was leaving. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, one that was more awkward than polite. “You have a little…” You gestured to the side of his neck where a lipstick stain rested. He wiped at his neck, checking his hand and cursing at the sight of lipstick. You grabbed the tissue box, gesturing it towards him as he muttered a quick thanks. “This shit never gets off.” You watched him angrily wipe at his neck, the stain seemingly endless. “Then I guess this is a bad time to tell you about your lips?” He looked at you with panic and you had to stifle a laugh, messing with him was practically your favourite pass time because he was always so unsuspecting.

You ran into your room to grab make-up wipes and handed them to him. He gratefully took one out, going to wipe his neck. “I feel like I’m missing it, can you do it for me?” No, fuck no. You were supposed to be getting over him and this would definitely not help. “Okay.” You nervously grabbed the wipeout of his hand and wiped his neck for him. You were standing lightly on your toes to see his neck better and out of instinct, you placed your other arm on his shoulder for balance. The proximity made your heart stutter but you tried to ignore the deafening beating in your chest. You watched him flinch when you went over a sensitive spot and you quietly apologised, returning to your original stance that was at a safe distance from him. He thanked you once again, the same bashful smile on his face that you were beginning to find insanely adorable. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He joked, and you felt a sharp pang in your heart because it seemed that you were making more out of the situation than what was really there. All you were was his fuck-buddy’s roommate who he talked to every once in a while and you had to learn to accept it.

You were always a meticulous and organised person but no matter how hard you tried you could not organise your emotions. It frustrated you to no end and the best you could do was hide behind a nervous facade that often failed you because you were incredibly obvious. You pretended that you disliked him. It wasn’t hard, you had almost every reason to because all he seemed to do was disrupt your sleep. You’d been crushing on him for 6 months and nobody had figured it out yet, you were weirdly impressed. You sighed loudly out of exhaustion as you stared at your ceiling in despair. Feelings were horrible and if you had the choice, you’d become a sociopath. Oh, the tranquil ease of never having to worry about your emotions ever again.

In the midst of your blissful daydream, Lisa opened the door to your room, a beaming smile on her face that warned you trouble was to come. “Hey, we’re inviting some friends over tonight, okay?” She asked cutely but before you could argue that it was a school night she zoomed out of your room with little care about what you had to say. You groaned painfully at the realisation that you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight.

As expected, once the clock hit 7pm your apartment began filling up with Suzy and Lisa’s elaborate group of friends that consisted of 11 people; 7 men and 4 girls (including Suzy and Lisa). They came over every once in a while and every time they did you knew to brace yourself because they were loud, disruptive and messy. One time they played a drinking game and it turned into absolute anarchy so you made your roommates promise to never let it get that bad again. All you were left to do was hope they could keep that promise.

You were hungry but venturing out into the living area (which was inconveniently connected to the tiny kitchen) was too scary and you already brushed your teeth. Not only was Jungkook there but you had grown a genuine distaste towards your roommate’s friends. Perhaps it was because you only ever saw them when they were drunk or partying but you liked to stay away when they were over. You decided against going out of your room, you knew that you should probably just have sleep for dinner instead. And that’s what you did, for a total of 50 minutes before the loud chaos began. You were a light sleeper which proved to be a curse in situations like these. Your sleepiness had conjured up a sense of anger and you messaged your roommates to keep it down. They didn’t reply but you heard some hushing which satisfied you enough however they were too drunk to remain orderly and it broke out into undesirable noise once again.

Blinded by your impending need to sleep, you shuffled out of your room in your pyjamas and slippers. You had absolutely no shame when it came to sleep because without it, you couldn’t function. “Can you all please keep it down for the sake of me and the entire apartment block?” They all turned to you, an awkward silence engulfing the room. A couple of them stifled laughs, some giving up and laughing obnoxiously. Your roommates gave you remorseful smiles as they muttered out insincere apologies. They clearly were not taking you seriously so you returned to your room with an angry huff, trying to drown them out.

The next morning you were up early (much to your dismay) because you had a morning lecture. You saw Jimin, who you recognised because of his pink hair, passed out on your couch. You contemplated on whether or not you should wake him up but decided against it. That was a problem you had no obligation to deal with. Like clock-work, Jungkook was quietly sneaking out of Suzy’s room, meeting your eyes while you slipped on your sneakers. “Good Morning.” He gave you a tired smile, no matter how sleepy he was he always made sure he left before Suzy woke up and he explained that it was better that way. You responded to his greeting with a nod, just as tired as he was however unlike him you had lectures and classes to attend while he was content with his job as a tattoo artist. You wondered what is was like to be so sure of what you want at a young age but stopped yourself from pondering while you tied your shoelace. “Y/N, I’m sorry about last night.” He apologised shyly but you knew it was useless. He apologised every time but things always ended the same way, at least there was an attempt though.

“Where are you headed?” He asked you out of politeness, you guessed. “I have a lecture at 9.” He nodded while slipping his shoes on. You opened the door to leave and he followed suit. It was awkward, you walking out of the building together. He tried to make small talk but it always ended dryly. Once he reached his car, you gave him a wave. He waved back and opened his door but paused momentarily before getting in, he watched you tiredly walk away and he felt guilty so he yelled out your name and waited for you to turn around. “Do you want a ride?” You stood there in shock for a moment, trying to contemplate what to say. He gave you an expectant look but you could tell he was just doing this out of pity so you saved him the trouble. “It’s okay, I’m alright with walking. Thank you though!” You forced out a polite smile before quickly continuing on your way. Jungkook didn’t dwell on the rejection too long, he always assumed you weren’t his biggest fan.

Hey, you’re Lisa’s roommate right?” You nodded at the extremely perky boy with a frown on your face. “I also go by Y/N but Lisa’s roommate works too.” He rolled his eyes at your comment before moving to take the seat next to yours. “I need your help.” You ignored his statement because frankly Flappy Bird was more interesting than what he was about to say. “I’m failing this class.” He admitted and you paused the game before turning to him with false sympathy. “I send my condolences.” You joked, sarcasm laced within your words. He didn’t appreciate it but he made no comment against it, if he was going to get your help he’d have to be nice. “I know we’re not close or anything but all I’m asking is for you to help me with the mid-term.” The boy, which you could barely remember as Taehyung, pleaded with a charming smile. You could have ignored him but you decided to humour him for just a little longer. “What’s in it for me?” He gave you a smirk that almost made your hard face falter. “Help me pass the mid-term and I won’t tell anyone you have a crush on Jungkook.” You should have denied the comment, laughed at it, dodged it with all your might but instead all you did was gulp and stare at Taehyung with fear. “Library. 2pm. Don’t be late.” You muttered bitterly and Taehyung was so proud of his triumph. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You ignored his thanks, dwelling on your sad defeat.

As promised, Taehyung showed up to the library at 2pm, with absolutely nothing but his phone in his hand. “Taehyung where are your notes?” He looked at you with absent eyes, confused by the question you had asked him. “What notes?” Your eyes widened with shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish because you had no idea what to say. “You didn’t take notes in class?” Even though he sat next to you, you paid little attention to what he was doing and now you were regretting it. “No…?” He sat down on the chair in front of you and rested his head in his arms with a pout. “I’m totally failing this semester.” You didn’t mean to feel bad for him but you couldn’t help it. He looked like a kicked puppy, big eyes and pouty lips. You let out a huge sigh before sharing your notes with him and preparing for the horrible 2-weeks that lay ahead.

“Taehyung, we literally just went over this.” You were holding a flashcard, one of many that you crafted to help yourself prepare for the mid-term. Now, your hard work was wasted on a blonde-haired boy with no regard for school. “Um…patent?” Your frustrated face morphed into a beaming smile once he got the question right. You resisted the urge to scream in relief but Taehyung didn’t. “Did I get it right? Fuck yeah!” At the pointed glares from fellow students in the library, he apologised shyly and you quietly snickered at his embarrassment. “Congratulations, you got through the all 3o cards with only 29 wrong answers.” He stuck his tongue out at your pessimism, this was a huge moment for him and he wouldn’t let you ruin it.

You decided you’d see Taehyung 3 times a week, noticing that he was a fast learner after you second lesson and you still had to work at the campus bookstore. It was the weekend following the unexpected deal and your roommates had invited their friends over again. This time, something out of the ordinary happened. There was a knock on your bedroom door at around 8pm, one that you were a little hesitant to answer because your roommates never knocked on your door. Opening it with caution you saw Taehyung’s long figure standing outside your door with an uncomfortable smile. “I was going over the notes you gave me and I have some questions.” He walked into your room uninvited and took a seat on your bed. “This couldn’t wait till next week?” You muttered, you preferred to teach when you weren’t in Iron Man pyjamas. “Why wait when I have the chance now?” He gave you his endearing box smile and you begrudgingly sat down on your desk chair, parallel to your bed. “Go.”

“Why is Taehyung in Y/N’s room?” Jungkook asked from his position on the couch, everyone shrugged, just as confused as he was though no one with quiet as much concern. “I think he mentioned something about her helping him with mid-terms. They share the same major.” Jungkook nodded absentmindedly at what Jimin had said. Unsure of why his roommate would be in your bedroom instead of out there with him. “Why do you look so worried Jungkook? She’s not going to steal your roommate.” They all laughed at Hoseok’s comment, Jungkook joining in a little too. There was some truth in his statement but he wasn’t worried about you stealing Taehyung, he was worried about Taehyung stealing you.

Jungkook would never admit it but he found your interactions cute. They were pretty much the only thing he looked forward too when he forced himself to wake up in the morning. He wasn’t sure about the origin of his attraction or why he found you so adorable but he knew the kind of person Taehyung was and convinced himself that the light sting in his heart was purely friendly worry. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Seokjin had shaken him, repeating the question he had asked before. “Are you okay, bro?” He nodded, refiling his cup with whatever liquor was on the table.

“Thanks Y/N, I owe you.” You nodded his way with a tired smile, it was only 9pm but you could feel your eyelids getting heavy. “It’s okay and about the Jungkook thing…you won’t tell anyone right?” You asked nervously, a timid look in your eyes. Taehyung looked at you sympathetically before making a gesture to seal his lips. You gave him a thank you and then he was on his way, the moment he got to the couch Jungkook began bombarding him with questions. “What were you doing in there?” Taehyung lifted up some papers from his hands. “I was asking her about some notes.” Jungkook nodded before checking the time on his phone. “That’s all you talked about for an hour?” Taehyung nodded, wondering why his friend was suddenly giving him the third-degree. “Why, you didn’t catch feelings for your fuck-buddy’s roommate, did you?” He joked, but there was truth in his question. In all honesty, he hoped that Jungkook liked you back. “No, I’m just making sure you don’t screw her over and ruin what I have going with Suzy.” Taehyung could feel the disappointment rush over him, but made sure to shake it off. Just a few drinks later and the entire conversation was forgotten.

Taehyung missed a class because he had a shift at the tattoo parlour that day and asked you to bring over a copy of your notes to the shop. You agreed solely because that would mean you could escape studying. You followed the navigator to the store and you were pleasantly surprised. It was actually aesthetically pleasing. The monochrome style and minimalist design made it look incredibly elegant for a tattoo shop but you might have had pretty low expectations to start with. There was a wall on the back with photos of some tattoos and sketches. You were skimming through the pictures when your name was called out. “Y/N?” When you turned around you were met with Jungkook and you inhaled so abruptly you choked a little. “Hi, is Taehyung here?” You watched his eyes darken a little at the question but you paid it no mind, he nodded before cocking his head to the room adjacent to the one he just left. “Thanks.” You quickly shuffled to the room, knocking on the door and running in the second Taehyung opened it.

“Hello to you too.” He looked a little taken aback by your sudden entrance but you were too busy trying to calm your nerves. “You didn’t tell me Jungkook was here!” He laughed at your panicked expression. “He works here, Y/N.” His comment made you glare at him because that was clearly not what you meant. “Whatever, here are the notes. Make sure to read them so I can quiz you tomorrow. Oh and make sure you’re revising every night. The exam is next week and we only have 5 days.” He nodded dutifully, adding a salute for good measure. His reaction made you laugh and Jungkook could hear the sound from his room. The familiar stinging feeling was back and he gave up trying to identify it, he just knew he needed it gone.

Once you got back to your apartment, you were startled by the view. Suzy was making out on the couch with Jungkook who was hovering over her. You tried to close the door as quietly as you could so you could make it to your room unnoticed but Jungkook saw you. In fact once his eyes met yours they didn’t falter. You were a little annoyed at the fact that he was staring at you with such sultry eyes while his tongue was down your roommates neck. It seemed as if every time you took one-step forward with him, you took two-steps back. You walked to your room while narrowly avoiding his stare. You sat on your bed with a frown (which was growing to be your permanent facial expression) as you tried to navigate through the hurt that suddenly consumed your heart.

Unrequited love hurt a lot more than you remembered it to and you wondered why you had done something so self-destructive. You wondered why you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook when he was so unattainable. He had been Suzy’s friend for 2 years, her fuck-buddy for 3 months and your crush for about 6 months and yet you still couldn’t find the power to convince yourself to just let him go. When his piercing eyes locked with yours in that moment, you could feel the gut-wrenching pain that returned every time you had to see him with her but you were powerless. You felt like you were losing something, something you never had.

Jungkook didn’t know why he looked at you the way that he did or why he kept going for so long. He had betrayed the entire purpose of going to your apartment in the first place, forgetting about you. He tried to shake off his thoughts, tried to focus on the gorgeous girl that was literally under him instead. Once Jungkook was in her room, he wondered if you could hear the sounds they made. He thought about you listening to his moans and he moaned a little louder. He asked for Suzy to scream his name more often. All he could think about was you the entire time and once it was over, Jungkook acknowledged that he was completely and utterly fucked.

Jungkook was already weirded out by your appearance at his work place but now, you were at his apartment. “Hi, is Taehyung home?” Of course, why else would you be here other than for Kim Taehyung. He nodded, opening the door wider and moving out of your way. You stepped in with a little apprehension, the concentrated look on your face making Jungkook smile. “He’s in that room there.” He pointed at a door and you thanked him, walking to knock on it. Once Taehyung had opened the door and dragged you inside, Jungkook let out a breath he forgot he was holding and took a seat on the couch, turning the TV on.

You came out about an hour later for what seemed to be a glass of water. Once you were in the kitchen and pouring water into the cup, Jungkook came over and leaned on the kitchen island, eyes fixated on your now nervous frame. “What’s your business with Taehyung?” You choked on your water, now meeting Jungkook’s serious face with a flabbergasted one. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked sincerely because you genuinely didn’t know where he was going with the question. “I just want to know if you’re sucking my friend’s dick, that’s all.” You scoffed at the irony of your situation before washing the glass and putting it back. “It’s not like you tell me the details of your ‘relationship’ with Suzy.” Your use of air quotes made Jungkook cock his eyebrows up and you gulped, feeling nervous once again. “That’s because you never asked.”

Jungkook was now standing upright and making his way to stand in front of you. You didn’t allow yourself to wither away in fear no matter how much you wanted to. “So if I did, you’d answer? Honestly?” He nodded without hesitation and playful smirk grew on your face. “Taehyung and I are just classmates, he asked me to help him pass his mid-term, that’s why I’m around a lot. Your turn.” He nodded with a chuckle, stepping closer to try and intimidate you but it wasn’t working. You were too curious to back down now. “Do you like Suzy? In a non-platonic way?” You hated how the question sounded more personal than objective and you hoped he wouldn’t notice. “No. Do you like Taehyung in a non-platonic way?” He now had you cornered between his body and the counter. “No.” You replied, voice still as strong as when you started but you couldn’t say the same about your will. He was inching closer, so close you could feel his breath on your face but before anything happened, Taehyung bursted through his bedroom door.

“Y/N, I found the- Oh…” He began to regret bursting out after seeing what he interrupted. Jungkook moved away from you quickly and you rushed into Taehyung’s room not daring to look back. “Did I cock-block you? I did, didn’t I?” Taehyung was mad at himself, he had been not-so-secretively hoping that you two would end up together however your angry glare told him he should stop talking about it. You went back to studying and 3 hours later, you decided to call it a day. “Good luck on your mid-term tomorrow.” You said to Taehyung, a tired smile on your face. He gave you a bone-crushing hug that you returned even though it was suffocating. “I’m sorry that I pretty much blackmailed you into doing this but I am so grateful I did.” You laughed once he pulled away and you didn’t realise how much you missed oxygen. “I owe you, therefore from now on I will be your wingman!” Once the words had processed into your brain, you quickly grabbed a pillow from Taehyung’s bed and smashed it into his head. “No. I need to get over him, Tae.” He pouted but respected your decision, or at least he pretended to.

Once you were leaving the apartment, Jungkook was still on the couch. This time he was on his phone, the TV long forgotten. You tried to quietly make your way to the door so he wouldn’t notice you but luck was not on your side. “Y/N? You’re still here?” He seemed genuinely bewildered and once you turned around with a shy smile you saw him check the time on his phone. “It’s late, I’ll take you home.” You tried to reject but he was already getting up, grabbing his jacket off from the couch beside him. “It’s okay, I don’t mind walking.” Of course you minded walking. It was like 11pm and your apartment was a good 15-minute walk away but you couldn’t let him know that. “It’s not a bother, I’m going there for Suzy anyway.” Then you turned to him with pleading eyes and a pout on your face. “No. Please not tonight! I have a mid-term tomorrow.” He laughed because the situation seemed humorous but you clearly didn’t appreciate his input. “Sorry love, duty calls.” He gestured to his phone while he said it and a frown donned your face instantly. “Please try to be quiet. The walls are paper thin and I’m a light sleeper.” You found his dutiful nod adorable, your frown softly turning into a smile. “You have my word.” And then you both left the building, you preparing for an exam and him preparing to get laid.

Jungkook’s word was good for nothing. Sure, he was quiet but Suzy was loud. You tossed and turned, hid your head under the pillow. You even searched the Internet for how to sound-proof rooms but it was useless. It wasn’t quiet again until around 2am and you had to be up by 7am. You decided to treasure whatever hours you could get and prayed they would be enough.

You were peacefully eating your toast and Nutella when Jungkook stumbled out of Suzy’s room, just like every other morning. He gave you a pitiful look when he saw your evident exhaustion and hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at him. “I gave you one job, Jeon. One. Job.” He ruffled his hair tiredly and you couldn’t help but find the action endearing. He came over to where you sat on your kitchen island and shameless took a slice of Nutella toast that you put a lot of effort into making. “Hey! First you steal my sleep and then you steal my breakfast.” He groaned as he rubbed his head from your loud whining but you weren’t about to pity him. You had just as big a headache as he did and he was the primary cause. “How are you so energetic in the morning?” His tone was groggy and deep. The low baritone of his morning voice definitely ignited something inside of you but you had to keep it at bay. You absolutely needed to ace this test and you’d be damned if the reason you failed was Jeon Jungkook.

“I’ve been subjected to feign energy regularly because of my callous roommate and her disruptive boy toy.” You heard a small chuckle but paid it no mind, frowning as he stuffed the last of the toast into his mouth. After he was done chewing (and you were done glaring), he got up and began to stretch. His shirt rid up, revealing just a smidge of his glorious body and you drank your tea with concentration as you tried to distract yourself from him. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly so bothered by everything he did, perhaps it was the tension from last nights endeavours but you couldn’t let it get to you. Unfortunately, you did a bad job because you were now in his car staring at the way his hands wrapped around his steering wheel. He insisted on driving you to school and once he dropped you off, Taehyung was sprinting to your side. “Okay, we have 15-minutes so quiz me.” You nodded with newfound motivation and Jungkook was perplexed by the sight of his rambunctious friend so immersed in his studies.

After your exam which both you and Taehyung were sure you aced, you decided to get ice cream together because you deserved it. He told you that Lisa and Suzy had invited everyone over again and that you should join them. Of course you rejected, that was your worst nightmare. You decided you’d spend most of the night in the library because you needed to finish a paper. Taehyung didn’t protest because he was determined to unleash his self-proclaimed wingman skills tonight. Skills you had no idea would see the light.

Once everyone but you was inside your apartment, they almost instantly began drinking because it was pretty much the only thing they knew how to do. Jungkook was in the midst of complaining about his family problems. “My brother is getting married next week and apparently I have to show up and with a decent date too because ‘my reputation is damaging the prestigious family name’ or whatever and I don’t fucking know who to take.” Taehyung giggled, a little tipsy before suggesting something incredibly stupid (alcohol is a hell of a drug). “Why don’t you take Y/N?” Yoongi started laughing obnoxiously, cueing in the others to join. “He’s got a point. With her perfect grades and her church-girl attitude she’s bound to impress your parents.” Lisa joked before Taehyung was slapping her across the head playfully. “Stop that, she actually really loves him.” Suddenly everyone’s eyes zeroed in on Taehyung and that was when he knew, he fucked up.

An awkward silence engulfed the room and Jungkook downed the rest of his drink instantly. “I’ll go with you, Jungkook.” Suzy suggested and he nodded at her statement, everyone choosing to ignore what Taehyung said but he knew there was no going back now and you might never forgive him. The conversation moved onto to something else but Jungkook was still stuck on what Taehyung had said and his brooding was incredibly obvious. “Come on, Jeon. Don’t feel bad for not liking her back, she’ll be fine.” Jimin comforted and Hoseok nodded, giving him a comforting pat on the back. “You should set things straight with her.” Taehyung gave Yoongi a glare at his suggestion but all he did was shrug in response. “She already knows, no need to rub salt in the wound.” He sighed, exasperated. He hated himself for randomly blurting out your secret but what could he do? Drunk Taehyung was uncontrollable. “Jungkook, come on, you’re not actually thinking about it, are you? You work in a tattoo shop and have enough emotional baggage for a lifetime, she has a 4.0 gpa and dates to marry. You’ll just break her heart.”

Jungkook nodded, brushing off whatever worries he had. Jin was right, you and him was an impossible concept and he could either dwell on it perpetually or get his shit together. The conversation moved on again, this time Jungkook kept up and when you stumbled into the apartment at 10pm, they were already far too wasted too care. Once you got into your room, you changed into your pyjamas and quietly snuck into the bathroom to get your night routine over and done with.

You were in the middle of washing your face when you looked up at the mirror and saw Taehyung staring behind you in the reflection. Naturally, you screamed and then screamed some more because you got cleanser into your eyes. Taehyung apologised but couldn’t stop laughing, his giggles irritating you and your eye. “What do you want Taehyung?” His face got serious incredibly quickly and you began to worry. “If I tell you, you have to promise to not get mad.” You nodded instantly, crossing your fingers behind your back out of childish habit.

“I accidentally told everyone you had a crush on Jungkook.” He blurted it out incredibly quickly but it was still coherent and you stood there, comprehending his words and their consequences. You took in a deep breath, which then turned into 10 because you couldn’t seem to get the oxygen to reach your brain. “Y/N…?” Your silence was scarier than your rage and Taehyung prepared to get shredded into a pulp. “It’s okay.” You whispered, and Taehyung looked at you with his eyes almost bursting out of their sockets. “At least now you’ll stop that wingman crap, right?” You laughed, and you were actually faking a strong front because you didn’t want him to feel bad. You made mistakes too. He was too drunk to read past your facade and smiled, believing even if just for tonight, that he hadn’t turned everything into a catastrophe.

Once you were back in the safety of your room, you began to feel worried. How were you supposed to face Jungkook, anyone, now? The embarrassment hit you harder than your younger brothers toy car in 2010 and you could almost hear your heart shattering and plummeting to your feet. You cried a little but before it could progress you fell asleep and hoped you’d have a better day tomorrow. You hoped you’d wake up with the realisation that Jungkook would never be yours and you hoped your heart would be void of him. This night was his eviction notice and all you could do was hope he’d listen.

You spent the week avoiding Jungkook, Suzy and Lisa excessively. You woke up early and stayed out late. You shoved yourself into school and picked up almost every shift at the bookstore. You did absolutely anything and everything to make sure you were out of his way. You knew the only thing left unspoken was, “Y/N, I’m sorry but I don’t like you that way,” and you really didn’t need to hear it. In fact you hoped that the amount of times you repeated the phrase in your head would be enough to spare you from a rejection in general.

It was a Saturday night and you were shamelessly scrolling through twitter when you heard your door slam open and then shut. “Jungkook, are you going to stay mad at me forever?” You heard Suzy yell the moment she got inside, and you heard Jungkook laugh bitterly before yelling back. “Did you have to talk about our sex life in front of my fucking family, Suzy? Did you have to tell them that we get drunk every weekend and that I work in a fucking tattoo parlour?” You winced at his voice and more importantly his words. So, their Saturday night didn’t go well, that makes the 3 of you. You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping but did it even count if they were yelling?

“God, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry? I can’t change myself for your parents, Jungkook!” He scoffed and you could hear the anger seeping in his bitter tone. “For fucks sake, Suzy. I asked you to act for one goddamn night and you couldn’t fucking do it. It’s not like you’d ever meet them again, we’re just pretending!” “What if I don’t want to pretend?” There was an awkward pause after Suzy’s question and you gulped. Things had just escalated incredibly fast and you were still now standing next to the door to hear them better. “You can’t do this. We made a deal, no catching feelings.” You could hear that his voice softened and you wondered if your rejection would have gone the same way. “I know, but I couldn’t help it!” You heard him sigh, you also heard heavy footsteps and assumed them to be his. “How long?” “2 months.” You heard him curse, you realised she’d liked him for two-thirds of their arrangement. “You should have ended things the second you found out.”

You could hear her crying and you realised this was not your business to listen to. You walked back to your bed but hit your toe against your chair and tripped. You fell to the ground with a loud thud. “Ow! Shit!” You got up from the floor and your door was opened. “Y/N? How much did you hear?” Suzy stood at your door with a tear-stricken face and panicked eyes. “How much did you want me to hear?” “None of it.” “Then I heard nothing.” You were speaking through the pain as you clutched onto your poor toe. You saw Jungkook behind her, watching you both with darkened eyes. You’d never seen him genuinely angry and at the sight, you hoped you never would. “I can’t handle this.” Suzy walked off into her room and slammed her door and you quietly wished that Lisa was here.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked and you couldn’t help but laugh. Physically? You were absolutely fine other than the numbing ache in your pinky toe. Emotionally? You had a broken heart and a bruised brain. “I’m fine unless clumsiness is a disease. Then I am very sick.” You tried to relieve the tension the only way you knew how and it worked, for a little. He chuckled a bit before leaning onto your door frame with fatigue. “My parents would have loved you.” He said, eyes filled with adoration as he looked at your pouty face. “You can’t say things like that.” “I know, I know.” He ran his hand over his face before he ruffled his hair. “When did this get so complicated?” You gave him a pitiful look, 2/3 of the members of this apartment were in love with him and the poor boy was unaware the entire time.

“You could just leave and pretend his night didn’t happen. I’m sure Suzy wouldn’t be opposed to it, she values your friendship a lot, you know?” Jungkook smiled at you but it seemed more sad than happy. You wondered when something as simple as a smile could be so complex. When did it get so complicated? “And how do I fix things with you?” He was inching closer to you again and you could feel your eyes tearing up. You quickly faked a smile because the only way to stop yourself from crying was by pretending you were okay until your body believed it too. “There’s nothing to fix here, I promise.” Your method failed you because a tear slid down your face that you quickly wiped away. He leaned down onto his knees, now face to face with you who was seated on your bed. He had his hand on your cheek, wiping the second tear away. He came close to you again and you were leaning inwards too, you were about to kiss, so incredibly close to everything you ever wanted, but you pulled away. “Please don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it.” You hoped he’d tell you that he did, that his lips would be on yours and your feelings would be returned but things never went that well. He gave you another sad smile, before getting up and walking away, the sound of your front door closing was your cue to cry. One-step forward, two-steps back.

#jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #bangtan x reader #jjk #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #bts #bts fic #bts fanfics #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtan fics #bangtan fluff #bangtan

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Limitless - Chapter Six

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Johnny (side pairing: Y/N x Jaehyun)

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: mentions of violence, and language

Genre: Hogwarts AU! Fantasy AU!

Summary: “The first years, please note... that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students” - Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone)

Taglist: @jae-bread, @lanadreamie, @do-you-like-riddles, @ki-aechan, @the-usernames-i-like-are-taken, @dru-shadow, @completencttrash, @haechans-sunflower, @neocultech-baby, @jaectizen, @yutamist, @lunavbm, @seriousballoon, @lerissa, @kickin–it, @nekojohndo, @n0teanoshade

“Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead” - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

In a complete turn of events, when I entered the Great Hall this time, I surprised everyone in the room when I walked in the direction of the Slytherin table to sit down next to Johnny Seo.

There was a pervasive silence, and it seemed that every eye had turned to observe this unexpected situation. But I wasn’t bothered by their intrusive stares; instead, I reveled in the attention because I wanted as many witnesses as possible to watch me as I extended the figurative olive branch.

“How are you, Jeno?” I asked the dark-haired student sitting across from me.

However, in place of a formal greeting, Jeno’s response was nothing more than the image of his mouth falling open in shock. “What are you playing at, Y/N?” Johnny muttered, pushing aside his empty plate as he glared at me.

“Nothing,” I replied. “I’ve just been thinking about our conversation from my father’s banquet.”

“Ah!” Johnny chuckled. “You’re coming to tell me that I’m wrong.”

“No,” I countered. “I actually took your words to heart, and I’m willing to concede certain points.”

“Oh?” Johnny smirked. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re right about the hypocrisy,” I informed him. “But I’m not the only one guilty of its implications.”

“Is this your way of turning things around on me?” Johnny asked.

“I just think you should give it some consideration,” I said, and I tried to ignore his incredulous laugh. “But,” I growled, “I want to call a truce between us.”

His laugh broke off immediately, and it was Johnny’s turn to be caught off-guard, appearing just as ridiculous as Jeno when he gaped at me. “Truce?”

“I’m sure you know what it means,” I said, taking a moment to revel in my own self-satisfaction. “Perhaps I was insensible before, but my brother is fond of your cousin, and I think we should try our best to get along.”

But for a moment, I wasn’t certain that Johnny was even going to acknowledge my suggestion. After all, even if I was willing to apologize for my behavior from before, there was no guarantee that he would accept my sincere expression. And I held my breath when he released an exaggerated sigh. “I guess you don’t feel any remorse from our conversation? Doesn’t it bother you that I had to point out those flaws?”

“I’m grateful for your honesty,” I said, measuring my words with astuteness. “Sometimes, it takes the intervention of a friend to help a person understand the consequences of their actions.”

“Friend?” Johnny repeated with a scoff. “Y/N, I’ve tried to be friends since our first day of potions together, but you’ve made that very hard for me.”

“Well, consider this a change of heart,” I said, and I held out my hand to him. “Shall we shake on it?”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but his palm was warm against mine. “I’ll consider this an open invitation.”

“Whatever that means,” I grumbled, and I pulled away from him with a smile. “See? Even I can be surprisingly civil.”

“We’ll see about that,” Johnny said, and I could feel his gaze on me as I left the Great Hall without another word.

The rumors were swift, pervading the Castle and all its students no matter what year they happened to claim. But I wasn’t surprised to discover that people were talking about my wiling compliance to entertain Johnny Seo. And I fully expected for someone to confront me about the conversation, but it was still later on when I was finally approached about my burgeoning relationship with Johnny Seo - a seemingly unusual request for neutrality between us.

“Did something happen between you and Johnny?” Jaehyun asked, and I looked up from my textbook to see that he was looking straight at me with an inquisitive stare, no longer concerned with the lines he was expected to write for his transfiguration assignment.

“Just some stuff that happened over break,” I said, stretching my arms out above my head as I dismissed my homework with an exaggerated sigh.

“What kind of stuff?” Jaehyun pressed, and I took a moment to consider why he was so interested.

“He said some things about my mom,” I admitted. “It bothered me because he was right.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun murmured, and he seemed relieved by the confession. “I guess I wasn’t sure what to expect. Everyone keeps talking about you and Johnny.”

“It was a surprisingly useful conversation,” I said. “He pointed out some things that nobody has ever really asked me to think about before.”

Jaehyun was quiet as he observed me. “Is that okay? You aren’t bothered by what he said?”

“I can handle Johnny,” I told him with a smile, which he returned after glancing at the ring that I wore on my index finger, glittering enticingly below the lights.

“It looks good on you,” he remarked to change the conversation.

“Yeah,” I agreed, holding out my hand to admire the diamonds. “This is beautiful, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to get me anything expensive.”

“I wanted to buy it,” Jaehyun insisted. “You mean a lot to me.”

I averted my gaze at his sincere words, and I could feel my face warming under his close scrutiny. “I feel bad because I didn’t get you a gift.”

“Trust me, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “You give me more than you could ever imagine.”

“But I want you to have something concrete!” I insisted, and Jaehyun’s expression slowly morphed into something more serious as he leaned in closer across the table.

“You could always give me an answer.”

“Answer?” I repeated, and there was a strange amount of tension in the air between us as his eyes locked onto mine.

“Y/N, I like you a lot,” Jaehyun confessed. “But before you misinterpret my words, I want you to know that my feelings aren’t exactly platonic.”

I shivered because, of course, I understood what he meant, but I had never been propositioned in such a way before. “Jaehyun-”

“Let’s go out on Friday,” he interrupted as if sensing that I was uncertain. “I want to take you somewhere in Hogsmeade, and you can think about what I’ve said and how you feel.”

I pondered his simple request, wondering if it was possible for me to think about those things. And I had never really thought about those kinds of complicated feelings, even if Jaehyun made me want to start considering them. But he always made things easier for me, and I found myself nodding along as Jaehyun’s relieved smile captured the moment with a gentle exhale.

It wasn’t surprising to have the attention of my classmates directed on me when I walked into the potion’s classroom. Especially when Johnny was already waiting at our usual table, and he wore a self-assured smirk as I sat down next to him. “I got a head start on the assignment,” Johnny said, and he slid his textbook closer to mine where I noticed he had already crafted several notes in the margins.

“Oh? And how did you know what we were making today?” I asked, and I allowed my fingers to follow the words as they filled out the pages.

“I told you,” Johnny said. “I’m one of Professor Zhang’s favorites.”

“I still don’t understand why he chose you,” I remarked, even while I couldn’t help but admit that the favoritism benefited me in this class.

“Well, since we’re friends now or whatever,” Johnny said. “Maybe you’ll start realizing that I’m a lot smarter than you want to give me credit for.”

“I’ll give you credit when it’s due,” I said with a cheeky smile. “This looks more like cheating to me.”

“Cheating?” Johnny scoffed. “I like to consider it as taking advantage of an opportune situation.”

“Uh-huh.” I grinned. “Did you feel the same way when you cheated to beat the Gryffindor team at their tryouts?”

“That wasn’t cheating!” Johnny sighed. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re making a big mistake by thinking so low of me. One of these days, you’re gonna regret dismissing my natural talents because of your own ego.”

“Is that so?” I asked him. “I’ll certainly let you know when I have a change of heart, friend!”

“Ditto,” Johnny muttered, and there was an unmistakable lilt to his interjection that matched the playful smile breaking the corners of his eyes.

“But I do have one question-” I started, but I was unexpectedly interrupted by a flock of fifth-year girls who rushed into the classroom at once, surrounding our table with giggles.

“Is it true, Y/N?” one of them asked. “We heard that Jaehyun asked you out!”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” I said, and I was entirely unimpressed with their invasive demands, even if I was concerned with the sudden disappearance of Johnny’s playful demeanor.

“He said so himself,” they continued. “The two of you are going to Hogsmeade together!”

“I guess it’s true then,” I muttered, but I was far more concerned with the sullen look written across Johnny’s countenance.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” the first girl said, but she was graciously dismissed upon the arrival of Professor Zhang who sternly instructed everyone to sit down.

The girls smiled and leaned in together to whisper in low tones, and I waited until they were gone to discreetly check on Johnny whose rigid posture was concerning.

“Johnny,” I whispered, and it was a muted tone that demonstrated some amount of caution, but I didn’t know why I felt the need to approach Johnny with such uncertainty.

“Whatever, Y/N,” Johnny growled, and he pulled our cauldron closer to the edge of the table. “Let’s just get this done.”

His statement was final, and I fell into a long stretch of silence as we worked together without another word.

I had always been impressed by Hogsmeade: the quaint little shops, the rustic vibe, and the feeling of intimate comraderies around every corner of the bustling streets.

It was the perfect way to spend an evening out of the Castle, shuffling through the snow next to Jaehyun as he talked about his Quidditch team’s upcoming match versus Slytherin. “We’re prepared this time,” he assured me, stopping outside of the Three Broomsticks with a smile. “I love coming here.”

“It’s warm,” I noted, and I was surprised by my body’s willing compliance when Jaehyun wrapped an arm around my waist to lead me inside.

“Most of my friends sit at the back,” he explained, guiding me through the other tables and friendly couples. “It’s more private.”

I nodded in agreement, finding simple pleasure in the quiet alcove, waiting for Jaehyun as he briefly left me alone to bring us back two butterbeers. The frothy beverage had delighted my tastebuds when I tried it Jisung for the first time, and it might seem cliché, but I was glad to share the sentiments of my Hogwarts classmates who all seemed to love it.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” Jaehyun said, and he had already consumed most of his drink as he turned to look at me. “Have you thought about what I said before in the library.”

Oh.

I swallowed hard, bringing my own drink down against the table. “It was really sudden,” I tried to explain to him. “We haven’t been friends for long.”

“Ah!” Jaehyun said, snapping his fingers as if he understood. “You’re worried about the timing. Is it moving too fast for you?”

I hesitated because it would all too easy to tell Jaehyun that I wasn’t ready for him, but the problem then became: would I ever be ready for him? “I don’t know,” I told him truthfully, and he nodded.

“Some people take longer to decipher their feelings,” Jaehyun agreed. “How about this? I’m relieved that you know how I feel, but I would never pressure you to reciprocate. Instead, maybe we can try a simple relationship? We’ll basically do the same things from before, but I can give you space to figure out what you want.”

“That sounds too good to be true.” I laughed, and Jaehyun smiled as he leaned in closer.

“It’s just that, I actually know it’s moving really fast, but I’ve been worried about Seo a lot these days,” Jaehyun said.

“Johnny?” I repeated with what surely resembled a quizzical look. “Why?”

“I guess you are bad with feelings,” Jaehyun said. “Y/N, I think it’s obvious to a lot of people that Johnny likes you, and after you talked with him the other day in the Great Hall, I thought he might’ve convinced you to try things out with him.”

“Try things out?” I gasped, and the idea was almost scandalous to me. For months, I treated Johnny as a barely tolerated acquaintance, but the moment I act civil and agree to be more amiable, everyone assumes something far more consequential. “Johnny and I aren’t like that.”

“I hope not,” Jaehyun said. “Not that I would try and stop you if you did have feelings for him, but I want to take my chance before it’s too late. The last thing in the world I want is more regrets, and you’re someone I would definitely regret if I didn’t try to show you how much you meant to me.”

I was struck by his sincerity, and I didn’t even question him when he applied a tight grip to my hand. “Thank you,” I said. “Honestly, it’s been confusing lately, and I know part of the problem is me.”

“You’re not a problem in my eyes,” Jaehyun said, and I squirmed under the weight of the compliment.

“Are you gonna keep doing that?” I asked him.

“What? Singing your praises?” Jaehyun chuckled. “Why? Does it not suit you?”

“Something like that,” I said, studying him from the corner of my eye. “You’ll wait for me to decide?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun said. “I’m a very patient man, Y/N. Take all the time that you need.”

It was, admittedly, relieving to hear him say that to me, even if I was still confused about my feelings. But anything I might’ve said to reassure him at that moment was vanquished from my mind at the unexpected entrance of Haechan and Chenle who were both crying and screaming when they ran to our table. “Woah!” I said, unprepared for Chenle to grab the sleeve of my robe.

“We have to help them!” Chenle said, and it took me a moment to gather my bearings long enough to grab him by his shoulders.

“Help who?”

“Haechan, you need to calm down,” Jaehyun said, and I was surprised by his gentle touch as he hugged Haechan closer. “What happened?”

“It was my fault!” Haechan said. “The older kids told us that we had to do it! They said it was a first-year initiation, but they took us to the Forbidden Forest and there was an attack-”

“And attack!” I screeched, standing up from the table with my adrenaline pumping.

“W-we were attached by a werewolf!” Haechan said, and it was at this point that I realized the entire room was watching us. “It bit Mark, and it tried to hurt Jisung-”

“My Jisung?” I interrupted, and there was a disorienting sensation of fear eclipsing my heart in an icy grip. “Haechan, is Jisung hurt? Where is he? Why is he not with you?”

I was on the verge on a panic attack when I let my instincts takeover, running from the Three Broomsticks with Jaehyun’s voice calling my name. I knew that it was irrational to jump into action without all the information, but I tended to take things to the extreme when it involved the members of my family. And I was marching across the snow-covered streets with one purpose: to protect Jisung and ensure that he was safe.

“Y/N!” Jaehyun growled, and I could barely feel his hand wrap itself around my arm as he pulled me to a stop. “It’s fine, Haechan said that Johnny helped Jisung make it to the infirmary! He wasn’t actually bitten!”

I spun around on my heel at the mention of Jisung. “If he’s fine, then why is he in the Infirmary?”

“Haechan said that he was freaking out and they wanted to make sure that he calmed down,” Jaehyun said, and I noticed Haechan and Chenle sprinting in our direction. “I can tell that you’re about to do something irrational,” Jaehyun said, and he gripped my chin in his hand as he forced me to look into his eyes. “Stay with me, okay? I’ll take everyone to the infirmary and you can see Jisung.”

I managed a nod, clutching to Jaehyun’s sleeve to ground myself as he wrapped a reassuring arm around my waist. “Did you say that Johnny helped him?”

“He saved him,” Haechan said, shuffling next to me as our group traversed back to Hogwarts. “I don’t even know where he came from, but he was there just in time.”

“Not soon enough to help Mark,” Chenle whispered, and his face was awash with fresh tears.

I shivered at the reminder, feeling a pang of regret for not worrying about Mark who was actually hurt in the attack, and everyone knew what happened when you were bitten by a werewolf. “Does he understand?” I asked. “He has to know that everything will change.”

“I don’t think so,” Chenle replied, and that only made everything worse because when Mark was finally told what would happen to him each full moon....

“Taeyong must be devastated,” I whispered, and Jaehyun’s response was to hold me tighter against the force of the cold wind.

The chaos had died down by the time I was sitting next to Jisung at his bedside, allowing my step-brother to cry into my shoulder as he apologized over and over again for leaving the common room so late at night. “I’m so stupid,” he said, and I shook my head as I ran my fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay,” I tried to reassure him, but at the exact same time, Mark started screaming from the bed further down the line and I could feel Jisung crying even harder.

“He’s in a lot of pain,” Jaehyun said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but I’m sure Jisung heard him.

“I can’t believe this happened,” I said. “In the time that we were gone...”

I trailed off because I couldn’t blame Jaehyun for bringing me out of the Castle. It’s not like either of us anticipated for this to happen, and I was just grateful that Jisung hadn’t been hurt, even if my heart broke for Mark.

“The fifth years who put them up to this will be punished and sent home,” Jaehyun said. “But they’re not the only ones.”

I shivered at his warning. “Are they gonna punish Jisung?”

“They were technically caught out of bed after hours,” Jaehyun replied. “I don’t think it’ll be severe, but the kids will probably get detention.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed, slowly rocking Jisung back and forth in a soothing motion.

“You’re telling me,” Jaehyun said, but then he frowned when he noticed someone approaching from over my shoulder. “I guess I owe you for everything you did tonight, Seo.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of Johnny, looking over Jisung to find him watching us with blood still painting the front of his shirt. “Yeah,” I added, finding it difficult to meet his gaze. “You don’t know how grateful I am that you helped Jisung.”

“Johnny was the best,” Jisung sniffled, pulling away from me with tear-stained eyes. “He knew the spell to get rid of the werewolf.”

“I think that’s pretty advanced magic,” I remarked, and Johnny scoffed.

“What? You’re still underestimating me?”

I frowned at his harsh tone. “No, but I’ll do anything to show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Johnny glanced up at Jaehyun for a brief second before returning his attention to me. “Be careful when you say things like that to me, Y/N,” Johnny said. “I’m liable to hold that against you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “If it wasn’t for you, then Jisung might be hurting even more.”

“I’m glad I saved him,” Johnny said. “I wish I could’ve helped Mark, but it’s a good thing that I was patrolling that area. Prefect duty and all.”

“I’m sorry if you’re angry at me, Johnny,” I said, referencing our earlier confrontation. “I meant it when I told you that I wanted to be friends.”

Johnny’s expression softened, and he studied me with an inquisitive look. “Can it be a favor?”

I startled at the question. “What?”

“I don’t like it when people owe me,” Johnny elaborated. “I didn’t save Jisung for you to feel indebted to me. I saved him because he’s a good kid and none of them deserved what happened tonight. But if you’re in the mood to give me the time of day, I hope you might consider meeting me tomorrow night outside of the Slytherin common room.”

“Oh?” I remarked, wincing at Jaehyun’s harsh exhale. “Yeah, I can meet you.”

“There’s something I want to talk about,” Johnny said. “But it’s better to have this conversation in private, and you can have more time with Jisung until then.”

“Sure,” I agreed, loosening my hold on Jisung when he started whining about my strength.

“I’m still talking to the headmaster about everything,” Johnny said. “He’s not convinced that I’ve told him the truth.”

“I still don’t know the truth,” I said, looking around the rest of the infirmary where dozens of familiar faces flitted in and out of focus.

“I guess we’ll talk tomorrow about what happened,” Johnny said quietly, excusing himself with a bow of his head, and I watched him join the headmaster near the sectioned-off area where Mark was being attended.

“He’s got something up his sleeve,” Jaehyun said, and he sat next to me on the bed to give Jisung’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m not worried,” I said, and I decided it was best to change the topic. “How are Chenle and Haechan?”

“Fine,” Jaehyun murmured. “They were sent back to bed, but I doubt they’ll get any sleep tonight.”

“And Mark?”

Jaehyun sighed. “They’ll tell us more in the morning.”

I shook my head because it wasn’t a satisfactory answer, but Jisung was tugging on my sleeve for attention. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course,” I promised him, but it was less out of obligation and more because I needed his comfort just as much to try and forget this horrible night.

#nct fanfic #nct johnny fanfic #johnny fanfic #johnny seo fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fantasy au #nct series #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #nct hogwarts au #hogwarts au #mostlycompetent #limitless

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love-dreams · 4 years

Text

pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

content: based off of the netflix show, the queen’s gambit, with different character names (check the masterlist!) - please note the original time period means lots of racism and sexism; adoption; drug misuse; anxiety and stress

wc: 5,897

note: this took awhile to finish, but i have a feeling that this will turn out to be a trilogy! hoshi and y/n finally are crossing paths next chapter :)) please let me know if you’d like to be tagged! HAPPY NEW YEARS YALL

recap: (Y/N) is a genius prodigy chess player who learned from Mr. Jihoon Lee, the orphanage janitor. The orphanage, Methuen, feeds the girls tranquilizers that help (Y/N) hallucinate chess moves. This allows her to “play inside her head.” At the end of the last chapter, (Y/N) had broken into the cafeteria’s storage and overdosed on drugs.

the queen’s gambit masterlist: 1 2

Soapy water dripped off the mop’s wool locks to the cold, cement floor, leaving a bubbly wet trail on the floor. You cautiously avoided the reflected areas.

“Mr. Lee?” you meekly greeted. Your voice was low and hesitant as you inched toward his stout, hunched over figure. He kept on mopping, seemingly paying no attention to you. “I can’t play chess anymore. Kim said so.”

He paused for a moment, turning his head toward her. His cold eyes raked over your figure, but Mr. Lee still didn’t respond, choosing instead to return his attention back to cleaning the floor.

Your chest tightened in remorse from your actions, but eventually, you took the hint and walked back to the moving train of students, disappearing into the masses.

That would be the last time you and Mr. Lee ever spoke.

Soonyoung remembered when he first played against the country’s champion.

His name was Yoon Jeonghan.

At the time, Soonyoung was still in high school, and Jeonghan was twice his age. He still looked as young as Soonyoung did, though, he noted sullenly. His younger step-brother, Chan, idolized Jeonghan, and for good measure. He was the undefeated champion for three consecutive years.

They played at the eye of a hurricane of onlookers. Reporters weren’t allowed to take photos, in fear of disturbing the duo chess players, but Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard the shutters snapping anyway.

The rush of blood to his head would have drowned out anything else.

The first time Soonyoung played Jeonghan, he lost. Quite terribly, he remembers, but Chan assures him it was a close game.

All he could remember was Jeonghan’s poise. His confidence. It radiated from him and into the fingers that moved his pieces. His intellect was far superior to Soonyoung’s at the time, honed by years of experience and studying. To Soonyoung, it felt like playing in front of a god, someone who was on a completely different level.

It was awe-inspiring.

Soonyoung played him two more times in two years. And then he won him in the third.

In the middle of the day, seemingly out of nowhere, Mr. Jun interrupted your class, calling for you to follow him. Everyone in the classroom, including the teacher, stared at you expectantly.

It’s not like you had any other choice.

Your heart rate gathered speed as Mr. Jun motioned for you at the doorway of the office. You cautiously ambled through the narrow hallway until you caught sight of two other people. One male, and one female.

“Mr. and Mrs. Park, this is (Y/N)!” You had never heard the Headmaster’s voice sound so friendly. You almost reeled back in shock at her change in tone and demeanor. What a joke... you thought darkly.

The two adults turned to face her. “Yes, (Y/N) is thirteen years old,” Headmaster Kim paused for affirmation glaring straight into your eyes.

“Actually, I’m fiftee-” you trailed off, seeing the expression on Kim’s face. You cleared your throat to cough over your previous sentence, straightening up your back. “Yes, I’m thirteen. I’m thirteen years old.”

Kim smiled and the foreign scene caused you to shiver. If you found Headmaster Kim’s punishments scary before, you found her act of friendliness simply unnerving. “(Y/N) is at the top of her class in English, reading, and geography. She also assists with the local chapel.” You nodded along. “(Y/N) truly is the model Methuen girl.”

You let your face be effortlessly played by your puppet master, painting on an innocent smile and crossing your hands formally. The woman, Mrs. Park, had a bright smile on her face that made you feel automatically welcomed and safe. The man, on the other hand, refused to even look at you. He had a newspaper outstretched in front of him, and his aura was just as cold as Headmaster Kim’s.

The two opposites puzzled you, but you tried to keep your thoughts from showing on your face. You let your eyes take small peeks down at the couple as you continued to stand trough their talking.

After what seemed like hours of negotiations and paperwork being passed from one person to another, Headmaster Kim finally let you go. You waited patiently outside the office, saying small greetings to the students passing you in the hallway. Just as you were trying to figure out what to make of the couple, the Headmaster, followed by the duo exited the office.

You watched as they walked straight through the doors and to the car parked on the driveway in astonishment before noticing the tall figure walking toward her.

Suddenly, you realized that the hall outside the cafeteria was deserted, except for you. Everyone else was inside, enjoying themselves.

Headmaster Kim bent down slightly so her face was closer to yours. You withheld the urge to flee on sight and retch in front of her.

“You should go pack.”

“You know it’s highly irregular for someone to be armed with a knife regularly, you know?”

“I have it for self-defense.”

“Against who?”

“Anyone.”

“You’re crazy, Soons. That’s not a legitimate answer.”

He shrugged. “I like control, like on the chess board. Having this knife with me is part of that, I guess.”

“So you’re a control freak.”

Soonyoung laughed, touching your shoulder gently. “I guess I am.”

That night was the same as all the ones before it. The sky was dark and so was the room. It felt too quiet to you, like there was an absence of something. The other Methuen girls hadn’t finished with class yet, but Kim had dismissed you early from school, not that you were complaining about that.

It might’ve been the one nice thing she’d done for you.

You found Ruth in her adjacent bed, lying on her side. From the way she was acting, you’d guess that she hadn’t gone to class all day.

You set your open suitcase on the wrinkled bed sheets and started to fold all of your clothes with moderate care. You packed your shirts, your skirts, and of course, your chess books. The latter being the most important possession you ever owned.

You ran a fingertip down the old spine of the book lovingly, creasing over any parts that were starting to jut out. You did this to every single book, running your own hands over the letters imprinted onto the leather

Slowly, the stack of books shrank until one last book was sitting on your bed. Your heart erupted into anxiety as you started to shuffle through your stacked clothes, opening all the drawers in the small bedside table.

“Have you seen my book?” you asked impatiently, panic slowly dripping into your voice.

Ruth cracked open one brown, chocolate eye, huffing as she pushed herself up. “Which book, cracker? You’ve got a dozen of ‘em.”

Your fists clenched in stress. “Modern Chess Openings, have you seen it?” you clipped, short and curt.

“Now don’t you go accusing me,” Ruth snipped back in annoyance. “I ain’t got any use for no book like that.” You sighed in defeat, letting your hands go loose. “Plus,” Ruth added. “You don’t need a book to play anyway.”

Your eyes dropped in shame to the ground, diverting your gaze. Your heart felt heavy all of a sudden: guilty. You hesitantly seated yourself beside Ruth’s still figure, letting your hand rest on top of your friend’s hip.

“You know, I’m sorry.”

Ruth scoffed, but you could hear the raw huskiness of her voice. “Sorry for what?”

“That nobody wanted to adopt you,” you replied.

Your friend didn’t respond for a few moments.

“No one wants to adopt a black kid as old as me anyway,” Ruth finally said.

“If you ever have kids, do you think they’d have to learn chess?”

“Well, I already have a kid and he plays just fine! Not as good as me, I guess, but he’s alright.”

Chan looked over his hamburger, cheeks slightly rounded as he chewed. “Wait, who is it?”

“I think you mean ‘who is he,’ right?”

Chan rolled his eyes and swallowed. “Yes.”

Soonyoung winked and rummaged through his coat pocket. “I think I have a picture of him somewhere...”

Chan craned his neck and body to see the small, pixelated picture on his cell phone.

“Oh, screw you, Soons. I’m not a damn kid.”

Soonyoung laughed, letting his voice roll over his vocal chords. He winked once more for good measure, feeling very pleased over Chan’s reaction.

“That, you are, kid brother.”

It was your first time riding in a car since you were nine years old, driving to the high school to play your first tournament of chess. You couldn’t help your fascination with the scenery outside of the black gates. Green strips of landscape flew by in a blur and color exploded in your retinas.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. So much so that you didn’t even have the capacity to respond to it.

As the car entered the suburban neighborhood, you took time to study each individual house’s features: the window shapes, door colors, everything. You saw kids on front porches with their parents, people were everywhere. Unlike Methuen, the women wore colorful skirts and they were all different.

When Mr. Park finally pulled up to the driveway, the whole situation’s magnitude hadn’t settled on your shoulders yet. Mrs. Park exited the car first, closing the door behind her and opening the door for you. She’s nice to do that for you, you thought.

You followed Mrs. Park into the house, eyes scanning everything around you in pure fascination.

It was when you were in the front living room of the house that you felt out of place with your dreary Methuen uniform. The windows were decorated with lace drapes so only a few bars of golden sunlight were shining on a muted primary rug that sat underneath a grand piano.

“Well? Home sweet home,” said Mrs. Park breathlessly. She did a small twirl in the living room with her arms outstretched. You felt the small inklings of a smile.

Mr. Park cleared his throat behind you, startling you. Sensing his prickly displeasure, you moved aside hurriedly as the man walked past both women to a velvet maroon arm-chair.

Jimin was a practical man, you could tell. He wore glasses when reading and a tie with his suit. He never seemed to take particular interest in being welcoming or loving to you unlike Chaeyoung. He seemed cold and disconnected to his wife and you and his stares were often condescending. You didn’t fear Jimin like Headmaster Kim, but you definitely didn’t like him as much as Chaeyoung.

“Ah,” Mrs. Park nodded. She clapped her hands together. “(Y/N), we should get you acquainted with your room!”

Chaeyoung quickly whisked you away from the living room, guiding you up the carpeted stairs. You tentatively grabbed your suitcase, sending one last curious glance at Jimin before following Chaeyoung upstairs.

Upstairs had more than one bedroom, much to your amazement. Methuen never had walls in between bedrooms. Chaeyoung kept walking down the hallway until stopping at the very last open doorway.

She gestured toward the inside as you moved to stand by her side. Your neck craned as you peered over the edge of the door frame.

“You have no idea how hard it is to find good chestnut furniture,” commented Mrs. Park from the doorway.

You took small, shy steps into the interior of the room. Then, you whipped around to face Mrs. Park. “Is this.. Is this all for me?”

“Why of course!” Chaeyoung replied. “I should leave you alone for now. If you need any help, just call!”

Your heart swelled as she stood in the bedroom alone. The room was entirely covered in pink. Your bed covers were pink and on top, there was a light pink veil covering it. The carpets were fluffy salmon-colored. You set her suitcase down near the doorway before flinging your body onto the bed, bouncing upward slightly.

You laughed in amazement, scrunching your eyes in disbelief. You had a family, you had her own room. It was like life was repaying every loss you ever had, like something had finally gone your way.

“You’re leaving for two weeks?”

Chaeyoung’s voice woke you up from your sleep. You looked out the window to see the married couple out on the driveway. Chaeyoung seemed to just have gotten up as well, dressed only in her nightgown and dyed hair still unruly. Jimin was in his normal attire and it seemed like they were in some sort of argument. You decided to eavesdrop a little, pressing your face to the glass pane.

“Yes. I’ve got some business in the Midwest, apparently. I could be there for weeks. Maybe a month.” Jimin got into the car promptly, shutting the door in front of Chaeyoung.

“Do you have to take the car?” Chaeyoung desperately asked.

“How the hell would I get anywhere without a car? You’re a terrible driver anyway.”

“You could get a rental,” she suggested.

“I’m taking the car with me, Chaeyoung.” He started the engine. “Remember what the doctor said?” His head turned to look his wife up and down. “Some exercise will do you good.”

Then, the engine rumbled to life, carrying the car and Mr. Park away from the house. Mrs. Park physically sighed before slipping out of your sight.

As you got dressed, there was a different sound replacing the cold voice of Mr. Park: the melancholy melody of an instrument. You let your feet drop on each stair step, your ears savoring the beautiful tune. A head of dyed hair appeared over the staircase railing and the piano. You held your breath, sitting down gently on the carpeted stairs.

“Stop staring over there, you’re making me nervous.”

Chaeyoung’s voice cut through the piano’s noise. You broke out of your trance. You quickly walked down the stairs and into the living room normally.

“You play beautifully.”

Chaeyoung’s lips upturned for a moment, but dropped soon after. The smile did not reach her eyes. Instead, it seemed broken and hollow, a deep sadness filling the woman.

“I used to want to become a professional pianist.” Her fingers twitched into movement and music flowed from the belly of the piano. “But I had terrible stage fright, not the best for an aspiring professional,” she laughed dryly. You stood stationery, transfixed with Alma. “And then I got pregnant.”

“You had a child?” You blurted out, too shocked to even think through your question.

Chaeyoung’s finger slipped and dissonance jarred the entire piece into chaos. This time, she did not continue. Her eyes were downcast and her misery spread throughout the room. “We did,” she answered.

You felt your throat close up. Maybe life just had a grudge with you after all. There was obviously conflict between Chaeyoung and Jimin and now you were in the middle of it.

Suddenly, Chaeyoung lifted herself and the same melancholy smile was directed toward you. “Would you like some tuna casserole? We have some left over.”

You shook her head, adamantly. The recent tsunami of new information was making you nauseous. “I’m good.”

“Do you want me to walk you to school?” she tried again.

“I think I’ll be alright,” you answered curtly. Chaeyoung sighed but didn’t force herself upon you. You had never been the most sociable person and you had no intention of creating more trouble for yourself.

The school was a short walk away from home. Along the way there, the few straggler students walking on the sidewalk grew into an entire flock. Noise erupted from the open doors of the school building and you vaguely felt the hints of deja vu from her first encounter with outside students.

During your free block, you got to work inspecting the school’s library.

Your head turned left and right while watching some of the other students hurrying around in the room. There were sounds of giggling laughter between shelves and the light rustling of paper pages. Then, your attention turned toward the librarian in front of you.

“Do you have any books on chess?” you rushed out, uncomfortable in the swarms of people.

She looked up at you through her rounded glasses. The librarian slowly took them off to study you. “Sorry?”

You tapped your foot impatiently, feeling all sorts of embarrassed and shy. “Books on chess.”

“I don’t believe we do,” she pondered. “Oh! But if we do have any, they’ll be at the back shelf over there.” Your body instinctively started to move toward the direction she pointed, desperate to get out of this awkward situation. “There should be some books on Xu Minghao too.”

That name caught your ear.

“Who’s that?”

The librarian smiled, but looked at you quizzically. “Why he’s a grandmaster, of course.”

“What’s a grandmaster?”

“A very, very good chess player.”

“(Y/N), would you be a dear and run down to the local pharmacy? I need to fulfill a prescription.”

You automatically stood up from your bed and walked a few steps to the adjacent bedroom. Chaeyoung looked awful with her dry, dirty hair and blotchy red features.

She sniffled a little bit before reaching to her bedside table. “Here’s a note.”

Her hands were weak and skin and fat clung to the bones of her arm. You nodded with sympathy and carefully slipped the note from in between Chaeyoung’s frail fingers.

You left the Park house shortly, hurrying down the street toward the town center. There were a few people there along with cars bustling down the road. Spotting the pharmacy’s sign over the store, you quickly crossed the street towards it. The door bell jingled as you stepped into the store.

Catching the owner’s attention, you slid the prescription note over the counter, tapping your fingers on the wood as he disappeared behind a shelf.

You then took the liberty to look around the store while he was gone. You rotated your body until you found something on the side of the brick wall.

“TIMES: CHESS MASTERS”

“And this is it,” he muttered. A small pill bottle was sitting on top of the wooden counter. You grabbed it, pocketing it in your dress. Your eyes were still fixated on the magazine.

Reaching to grab it, a gruff voice suddenly stopped you.

“Hey.” It was the store owner. “Buying only,” he said, pointing to the sign above the magazine holders. Then, he turned his back onto you.

You nodded and on your way out, reached for a newspaper beside the magazine. You dropped a few coins onto the counter and strode with long confident paces.

The red outline of the magazine peeked from the pages of the newspaper.

“I think I might start giving you allowance.”

“Hm?” You murmured over the pages of the Times magazine.

“An allowance,” Chaeyoung repeated. “It’s good for young girls like you to start learning how to manage your finances.”

You blinked up at her. “Okay.” You rose from your spot and hurried up the staircase. “Can I go buy a chess board then? I think I might want to attend a tournament this weekend and I need to practice.”

Chaeyoung scrunched her brow, she was displeased. “I don’t want to discourage you from social events, but don’t you think there are better opportunities for girls like you to meet new friends? Like dance classes or something,” she suggested.

You sighed and looked down at Mrs. Park from the railing. “What did you do to socialize when you were my age?”

You didn’t wait for her response and ran into your room. Hope fluttered in your chest as you opened the magazine again.

“KENTUCKY CHAMPIONSHIP THIS WEEKEND. 10$ ADMISSION FEE.”

“I’ll be there,” you murmured to yourself. You rolled over onto your back to stare at the two green speckled pills on your bedside table. You swallowed them and waited.

And waited.

Nothing was happening.

Finally, you jumped up on your bed and ripped off the pink canopy. Huffing in frustration, you threw the remaining, scratchy fabric onto the ground. You let your head rest on your pillow as transcendence settled over your body.

Familiar shapes soon began to fade into reality onto the ceiling.

The address on the magazine was a high school. People were bustling everywhere in the forum. You quickly found the registration table and walked towards it, careful not to bump into anyone along the way.

Two young-looking men were conversing when you walked up.

“Excuse me,” you said.

They looked up at you. When they noticed your gender, they immediately smirked, clearly sleazy about a woman being in front of them. One of them leaned forward towards you.

“Lost your way, lady?”

You internally groaned at his condescending tone, wanting nothing but to walk straight out of the building. You let out a breath of annoyance.

“I’m here for the chess tournament?”

The two males glance at each other.

“Well, do you have a ranking?”

This time, the other man spoke. They looked like twins with their nearly identical outfits and slicked back, brown hair.

You shook your head. “This is the first tournament I’ve joined.”

Twin #1 scoffed and shook his head. “Then you’ll join the beginners bracket.”

What?

“But I’m not a beginner.”

Twin #2 chimed in, his voice firm and unyielding. “Doesn’t matter, no ranking means you’re start as a beginner.”

Cooling yourself down, you started to think. “How long does it take for me to get a ranking?” you inquired.

“3-6 months,” Twin #2 answered.

Then, the perfect idea settled into your head. You started rummaging through your bag for the spare change.

“Put me in the open then.”

“What?” sputtered Twin #1. “Are you crazy? There are professional players in that open. Lee Chan is going to be playing.”

“Who’s Lee Chan?” You ignored them and finally fished out the ten dollar bill.

The both looked at each other again, sharing some kind of secret message in between them.

Twin #1 sighed. “Do you have a clock?”

A clock?

“No,” you answered faithfully.

“We have a clock sharing system. If you don’t have a clock, your partner will have one for you.”

You nodded in response, still confused about what a clock was supposed to be doing in chess.

Twin #2 slid a sheet of paper to you. “Here’s your first round.”

You took it and promptly left the desk, feeling relieved that it was over.

“So.. do they usually put the girls together like this?”

“Huh?”

There was another girl sitting in front of you. The only one, as far as you could tell. She had pretty curled brown hair and she introduced herself as Oh Seunghee.

“I don’t know, are they supposed to put the girls together like this?”

You looked around the empty gym filled with tables of chess players. You were seated right next to the coffee station.

“Well, they’re not supposed to,” she responded.

Seunghee had an innocent smile and pretty, dainty fingers.

“The chessboard is a battlefield,” Mr. Lee’s words rang through your head. “Naivety gets you killed.”

You nodded and looked over at the wooden framed clock to your right. “So, how does that work?”

“Oh, right!” Seunghee clapped her hands together excitedly. “So, once you make a move, I hit the button up there and your time starts to count down. Once the red flag falls, your time is up and you lose.”

“Seems simple,” you murmured. “And this thing?” You tapped the sheet of paper you got from the registration desk.

“To track your moves. Afterwards, you circle the winner.”

You nodded and picked up the pencil to write your name in. “So I can start your clock now, right?”

Seunghee waved her hands, “Go ahead!”

You carefully clicked the metal button down, testing it. Immediately, the clock started ticking off the seconds.

Seunghee moved her pawn forward and leaned on her clasped hands. Her big brown eyes stared at you with a hint of mischief. You nodded awkwardly at her gawking.

“Um, aren’t you supposed to hit the clock?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry. It’s just.. I’ve never played against a girl before.”

Your steps up were fast, the adrenaline rush from the chess game creating the perfect haze for you. You missed this.

When you got to the top, you turned a sharp corner to the registration desk. The two sleazy men were still there.

“What do I do with this?”

You waved around the heavy card paper for dramatics.

The twins looked around together.

“That fast?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t felt the need to verbally respond to the sleazeballs.

“Just put it into the basket,” they sighed.

Having nothing to do, you went back downstairs. Your eyes scanned over the empty tables and chairs that held only a few scarce players, a complete change from a couple minutes ago.

Noticing a crowd, you walked closer towards a divider that had a sign reading, “QUIET PLEASE.”

You weaved your way through sweaty backs and chests until you could somewhat make out what was in the middle of all the commotion.

A chess game.

In the middle was a table with two chairs and two players. Two male players, you noted. The setting seemed to be no different than any of the other games that played around you, making you wonder why this one attracted such a crowd.

You nudged someone close to you. “Who are those people?”

The man looked down at you in amusement mixed in with surprise. “That’s Lee Chan, the current state championship holder. And that’s Park Jisung, a rising chess player. Jisung’s the best of his town and his university.”

You nodded. Lee Chan.. you had heard that name before. At the registration desk.

“Is he a grandmaster?” you pointed abruptly.

Chan’s eyes narrowed at you. “Sorry, could you quiet down over there?”

You flushed with embarrassment and gauged the man’s reaction as well. He had a small small on his face when he glanced down at you as well.

He leaned closer to you to whisper, ““Not yet. He’s working towards it though.”

“I want to play against him.”

“Not everyone can play him. You need to win all of your rounds and so does he.”

You remembered the book you’d checked out from the library. Then you remembered the Times magazine and Mr. Choi. And of course, Mr. Lee.

A grandmaster...

“You want to play Lee Chan?”

The twins had names: Hyunjin and Jinyuh. They reminded you of the high school players you beat during your time of at the orphanage.

You nodded, not understanding why Jinyuh seemed so flabbergasted. “Is there anything wrong?”

Hyunjin scoffed, “You know you’d have to win all of your rounds in order to do that right?”

You remained nonchalant. “And I will.”

“No you won’t,” Jinyuh cut in. “You’d have to go through Joshua!”

“Forget Joshua,” Hyunjin chuckled humorlessly. “Your next round is Seungkwan and he’s way underestimated. He’s the captain of his college chess team and his team hasn’t lost a single tournament this year!”

You let out a sigh and grabbed the score card, leaving the twins speechless. Your pace was brisk as you walked toward the designated table for your round. Being doubted constantly was starting to get onto your nerves.

You tapped your fingers impatiently on the wooden table before a familiar face made you halt your motion.

“So I guess I’m your next round.”

It was the man from before. The one who was with you when Lee Chan was playing. This was Seungkwan?

“Um, yeah, I guess so,” you stuttered out.

His smile was just as mischievous as before, however, this time it had a streak of competitiveness.

Seungkwan adjusted his cuff sleeves and settled into his chair. His brief case rested next to him, leaning against the legs of his chair.

He motioned for you to start his clock and you did. Leaning over slightly to push the rusty metal button down.

The game was on.

The clock was still ticking down the time. There were roughly twenty tables set out around you, all of which were holding chess games.

You didn’t waste time trying to count the tables exactly though. The man in front of you was providing enough entertainment.

Seungkwan’s brows furrowed as he studied the board, cautiously making a move and hitting the clock.

Your hand moved automatically, pushing a chess piece toward its designated position in your mind. Seungkwan huffed. You grinned.

“Jesus, (Y/N), you’re humiliating my rook.”

“He won’t have to suffer for much longer,” you murmured.

Seungkwan’s eyebrow arched up as if coaxing you to tell him your strategy. You shook your head and motioned for him to return his move.

He sighed and slowly, slowly, tipped the white crown of his king to the board.

“Alright, you got me there, (Y/N). I lose.”

You blinked. He forfeited?

All of a sudden, a rush of deja vu hit you. You were reminded of one of the first games you had played with Mr. Lee. How ironic, you thought. Now I’m on the other side of the board.

Seungkwan extended a hand out to you. You daintily shook his hand, feeling shy from his act of sportsmanship.

He bowed slightly and picked up his briefcase. “I wish you luck on your next rounds, (Y/N).” Seungkwan winked and then left in a blink.

You followed him toward the cork board announcing all the pairings. You watched in satisfaction as your name went from the bottom of the board, to the top.

It was getting slightly tiring playing four consecutive chess matches, but as you walked up the stairs toward registration, you figured that it was all worth it to see the look of pure shock on Hyunjin and Jinyuh’s faces.

You stared at them expectantly, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for your next pairing to be announced.

“You’re done,” Jinyuh sputtered.

Your brow raised. You had won all your games, how was that possible? “What do you mean?”

“The games are done for today. The finals are tomorrow,” Hyunjin said.

You nodded, satisfied with today’s results. “Thank you,” you replied and walked out of the forum, feeling even more confident when you realized that everyone’s eyes in the room were on you.

The clock ticked away as your fingers tapped against the table. Your eyes were everywhere in search, looking at every person standing around the chess board. Lee Chan was not here yet.

You let out a sigh and kept tapping away. The empty chair in front of you taunted you. Your gaze kept darting to the clock mounted on the wall, the red seconds hand traveling in rotations.

“Sorry about that,” Chan huffed.

You turned your heads toward him, your gaze sharp and burning. If he was bothered by it, he didn’t show it.

Chan shuffled in his chair for a few seconds before leaning in on his elbows. “Ready?” he asked, a grin on his face.

You let out a small scoff and leaned to start his clock.

It was a long game and long made you stressed. You weren’t used to this level of competition and it was starting to get to your head. It was harder to predict Lee Chan’s moves and counter them, almost like your eyesight was fogging up and blurring.

“Excuse me,” you gasped out before racing towards the bathroom. The crowd parted like the sea when you moved.

You splashed water all over your face before reaching into your pocket for your reassurance. Your tranquility. Your fingers fumbled with the pill bottle before tipping it forward. Pills tumbled into the palm of your hand.

You dumped all of them back in except for one and swallowed the green pill without a second thought. You let out a relieved pant and let your breathing stead.

As you slowly raised your head at the mirror, you stared at the reflection, memorizing each flutter of movement on the bathroom ceiling.

When you exited the bathroom doors, your sight was back, zeroing in on the chess board. You sat down in the chair and moved your piece swiftly.

Chan’s brows raised in concentration as he leaned further in.

The next few moves were all just as swift as the first one. Your strategy was played with no hesitation and as the end game drew near, Chan was starting to catch up.

Unfortunately, his pieces were still too behind.

“You see it don’t you?” you murmured, staring at him with widened eyes.

Chan was sweating now. He kept shifting in his seat and breathing heavily. “I can get out of this.”

“No you can’t. If you avoid my bishop, I’ll just take with the r-”

“Move!” Chan spit out.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but complied.

The game played on into the end game. As you closed in on the king, you were two steps away from it. Your heart sped up in giddiness, feeling the sweetness of adrenaline on your tongue.

Chan’s voice broke through the illusion.

“Draw?” he whispered.

Your heart stopped. A draw? Your eyes whirled to the bystanders around you, some of which were now muttering underneath their breath. Your eyes rested on the familiar face of Seungkwan. His eyes were swirling with a mischievous mirth.

“No,” he mouthed at you, shaking his head.

You nodded, a smile returning to your face. “No way.”

Chan huffed, bracing himself against the table. He threw down his king.

The crowd erupted into applause as Chan walked away from the board.

You had won the state championship.

“So, I heard you lost your… whatever tournament that was.”

Chan sighs, “It was the state championship, damn it. What the hell are you doing here?”

Soonyoung grins and leans back in his chair. “C’mon, Chan. We’re family, remember? Don’t big brothers check up on their siblings’ interests and stuff?”

Chan glances up at him bemusedly. “Is chess the only interesting thing you ask about?”

“Hm,” Soonyoung pondered. “I don’t know about you, but it sure is for me. Say, what was her name? I think I saw it in the newspaper somewhere…”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” Chan grits. It was an embarrassing defeat on his part and celebrating his loss with the country’s champion wasn’t helping. Smirking, Chan decides to take a little bit of petty revenge. “I think she might beat you.”

“Oh ho!” This caught Soonyoung’s attention. “The girl who beat you?” He immediately sits up straighter, his eyes ablaze with competition. “Hm, is she coming to Vegas?”

“Probably.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to see. All in due time, right?”

Chan chuckles, “She might not go, though. You never know. And if she does go, I hope she beats your ass. Jeonghan’s always saying you got it coming.”

Soonyoung lets out a dry chuckle. “Now I’m intrigued by this mystery lady. However,” he pauses and contemplates his next words.

Chan looks up at him suspiciously, “However, what?”

Soonyoung grinned.

“I don’t plan on losing my title just yet.”

Chess was a game of delicacy. Like a pyramid of stacked cards, there was a method and a strategy to complete it. Missing a step meant a pile of lost cards on the table.

“You were too caught up with double pawns last game. You’ll win this one, (Y/N). You have to.”

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tag list: @haotheheckk @gryffindor-jun

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yoonia · 4 years

Text

About Time // Part 17

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Mature/+18 only / 10k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Warnings | mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | This chapter was initially longer, but I had to split it into two parts to make it easier to read because some parts may be a bit...too much to handle in one reading. I hope the next chapter can be posted right after this one. Enjoy!

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

While it seemed like I was stuck in place, that time and everything around me had stood still, I could still feel it as the world outside continued to evolve.

Though it might sound contrary to what I had wished for, I had kind of expecting for Jungkook to still be relentless on trying to see me or contact me for him to get what he wanted. I had prepared myself in case he would show up here in the hospital with another surprise visit or to give me continuous text messages and phone calls to remind me of his threats. Yet almost a week had passed, and he had yet to give me any of it.

Instead of smothering me and haunting me like I had thought he would, Jungkook only did the other way around. He disappeared.

By the time the week was coming to an end, as time kept moving stealthily slow between days of treatments, medications, and scheduled therapies, I finally got myself the surprise visit that I had been anticipating for.

Only it was not Jungkook who came to see me.

It was his older brother.

Jeon Junghyun had always been the level headed one out of the two brothers. He was the one person that Jungkook would run to whenever he needed help, the only voice of reason that could have made a lot of differences if only Jungkook would do just that whenever he was facing a problem, instead of running to his old friends that could only give him all the wrong solutions.

At some point in my marriage, Junghyun had even taken my older brother’s place as my confidant, and sometimes, as a mediator to help me communicate with either Jungkook or his family. He would always come to me with open arms and listen to all of my troubles whenever I needed someone to talk to, giving me all the right advices and the right answers which I could not get from other places.

I could not exactly remember how the two brothers had drifted apart. The only thing I knew was that the moment Junghyun stopped appearing in our lives, that was when everything came tumbling down.

“You should have come to me,” he said to me as he sat down next to the bed, after we had gone through all the unnecessary pleasantries as if we were two strangers instead of the close related in-laws we once were.

It was obvious that he was not completely sure about coming in here alone. While seeing him here, watching how his eyes grew wide as if he still could not believe he would find me here when he first entered the room, to the moment his gaze softened with concern, I started to feel guilty for not letting him know about what had happened. The problem I had was with Jungkook, and it was not fair for me to bring his family down with it.

But I was not about to say that to him. Not when I was not sure whether he would be taking his brother’s side or mine.

“And what good would that be?” was all that I could say, though I could not help but give him a sad smile. “You can’t always fix everything, Junghyun. Certainly not this.”

Junghyun shook his head slowly. The grim look he had on his face told me more about what he was feeling at the moment. “I could have been there for you so you won’t have to face everything alone. If only I’d known—”

“I was not alone. I had Yoongi who helped me reconnect with my brother,” I cut him off and winced when he looked up at me with eyes full of shock. Sighing, I continued with a softer voice, ”Hoseok has been here for me through everything. They had already done more than what your brother could’ve given me,”

“I know what Jungkook did,” he said, after giving me a bit of silence.

“Did you?” my voice came out small. I knew I should not have blamed him for what his brother had done, but I had to know. “Did you know about it when it happened?”

Once again, Junghyun shook his head. “He wasn’t talking to me then,” he said, sighing deeply. His eyes were full of remorse as he ran his hands through his meticulously styled hair. “I had to force it out of him to know what he did the day we met. He came to our family lawyer, saying that he needed to discuss some stuff. When I found out that he was talking about divorce papers, I knew something was wrong, so I ambushed him at the lawyer’s office and forced him to tell me everything.”

Rubbing his hands over his face, he told me how his brother confessed to all of his faults — from abandoning me after the day of my last miscarriage, about how he had left me feeling neglected while he searched for comfort on alcohol and another woman without putting me or our marriage in his mind. The more he spoke, the more he looked as if he was also hurting from what Jungkook had done, if not disappointed at his brother for making so many mistakes altogether.

“Do you know what he’s doing to me now?” I asked him once he was done talking, after he muttered a few apologies as if he could have done something to undo everything or stop them before they had ever happened.

There was no need for him to say anything for me to know the answer. Jungkook was backed up by their family lawyer, after all.

“He loves you so much.”

I could not hold back the laughter that came bubbling from my throat. “And yet he torments me for it.”

Junghyun sighed. As if it was the only thing he could do when he was just as lost as I was in finding a way to deal with all of this. “He was sheltered all through his life until he found you,” he said, as if his words could make a difference. “He grew up having people fixing his problems for it so the only thing he knew what to do was to ignore them until they go away.”

“I knew that,” I told him with a scoff, holding back from reminding him of how many times in the past I called out Jungkook for that trait. And how many times I had to remind myself that no matter what I had done, there would be something about Jungkook that would never change. “And yet—”

I keep coming back to him.

Closing my eyes, I looked past the rage and the hatred that I had felt stronger for Jungkook during the past few days. With him not appearing before me to remind me of all the threats he had given me, I was beginning to resent him less and less for what he said to me that day.

Though it did not erase the pain that I still felt from his betrayals. “Still doesn’t explain why it was so easy for him to find someone else to fuck with if he really had loved me so much.”

This time, Junghyun shared the same disappointment and pain in his eyes when he groaned. “That one, I cannot explain.”

As we exchanged gazes in our silence that fell after, it felt like we had something to agree with. It was no denying that there was nothing left for us to fix. The only thing we could do was to move on and Jungkook was the one making it hard for both of us to get out of this standstill, to be able to protect what was left of us.

If he would keep this up, there would be nothing left of us but specks of dust and bitter memories of each other.

“You have always been so forgiving,” Junghyun muttered with a bitter smile.

“And for that, I had enabled him to do things as he pleased because of how much I loved him. The fear of losing him was much stronger for me to look the other way,” I admitted, closing my eyes as I began blaming myself for letting me be in this position.

“And now?”

I scoffed. “Look at me. I don’t have anything left. I’ve run out of things to break and if he breaks me again—I’m not sure if I can survive it,” I said, pointing at myself — mostly on the way I was motionless on the hospital bed and everything else attached to my body after my last chemotherapy the other day. “All I want is to have whatever chance I could get—no matter how small—to be happy.”

“But not with him.”

I looked over and was relieved to find that Junghyun was looking at me with curiosity, not that he was demanding me to forgive his brother and give him another chance, but just to understand what it was that I wanted.

“I can forgive him. I will always be able to. You know that,” I told him, smiling bitterly.

“But I can’t forget. He had hurt me too much and I have kept all these wounds inside me for far too long. The only way for me to heal and to continue living, even with the limited amount of time I might have left, is for him to let me go.”

That night, I told Jimin about the surprise visit and the conversation I had with Jungkook’s brother as we lied down on my bed.

At this point, nearly the entire hospital staffs had known about our affair. At least, those who were working on our floor, since both of us had stopped being discreet about it.

Thankfully, things were just the same as the time when we used to slip into each others’ rooms after our treatments. Nobody reacted negatively when they found out. Except for a couple of the strict staffs that would give eyes the stink eyes when they saw Jimin leaving my room in the morning, the other nurses and some of the security staff on this floor had only given us knowing looks and light scoldings about him leaving his room without permission, but did nothing more to stop us to share the bed. The last warning we had before tonight came from the night shift nurse who came by in her rounds and said, “Just be careful about breaking the bed,” while raising her brows knowingly. “And we’re not taking any responsibility if you kids get into trouble.”

Jimin and I laughed about her warnings when he came in, before his brows creased the moment he heard about Junghyun coming to see me and after I told him all that we talked about regarding Jungkook.

“He promised to talk to his brother, to convince Jungkook to make the right decision instead of making things a lot worse,” I told Jimin as he got worried, thinking that perhaps Junghyun had come in as a reinforcement to take Jungkook’s side when he only left after promising me that he would do the best he could to change his brother’s mind about the papers.

“You know that he can’t really take things to court. He can’t do that with your condition and when the documents you have handed for the divorce are legit,” Junghyun had told me, helping me to calm my thoughts a little. “I’ll work with your brother before he comes in to see our family lawyers. Pretty sure I can have our lawyer prepare another offer and make a better a deal that works for the two of you in the future.”

Jimin tucked my head against his shoulder. I could feel his hand running down my thinning hair, soothing me while he was listening to me speak. Though I partly believed that he needed that contact to calm himself down at the same time.

“If only I’d known what I had put myself into—” I wondered loudly while my mind traced back to all the decisions I had made which led me to this point.

Jimin chuckled bitterly beside me. “Remember what I said about turning back time? Whenever I wonder about the same thing, I always try to imagine if I could change anything I’ve ever done if only I had a chance to do it.”

Scoffing at the thought, I looked up to him. “Really? You think about changing your past?”

“Don’t you?” he asked me, raising his brows questioningly as if he already knew what my answer would be.

“You’re right. I do think about things like that randomly whenever I have some regrets,” I murmured softly, admitting for the first time that I had always thought about all the things that I would have done differently if I had to look back into the past.

“Can’t help it,” he said, sighing deeply while pressing his lips on the top of my head. “I guess that’s how our minds cope with all the terrible things we’re dealing with at the present time. To make us think that it’s possible to change things to make us feel less worthless and to stop us from wallowing too deep into all the regretful things we’d gone through.”

“If you could turn back time, what would you wish for?” I asked him. “Would you do things differently?”

Humming, Jimin looked up to the ceiling with a dreamy look in his eyes as he answered me, “There are a lot of things that I wish I could change. Maybe I could still do some things that I loved to do, but do it differently. I’d stay in school, keep in touch with my family, fall in love—”

“So you wouldn’t have to meet me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Jimin cut me off, chuckling when I playfully pushed him away. He took me into his arms, pressing his lips on mine to drown our shared laughter.

I was ready for a gentle kiss, something that he would usually do just to shut me up. I was not expecting him to suddenly push through, to have his tongue penetrating through the seams of my lips, devouring me instead of just taking it easy with a simple kiss.

The kiss lasted longer when I got lost in it, then I felt the heaviness in the air building up the moment he pulled himself back. There was something in his eyes that I could not read. Something dark and cold, and it made me want to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

As if I was not the only one there that was left with broken pieces.

“I wish I could have found you first,” he said, tears curtained his eyes. “Perhaps it would have saved us both all the heartache, all the pain, and I could have made you happy. We could love each other and take care of one another without any worries, without being so scared of being wronged.”

I looked into his eyes searchingly, when his words triggered something inside me. Like there was a thread inside my chest that began to grow tight. It tightened, pulling itself up until it was clogged in my throat. I had no idea what it was.

Regret? Hope? Or was it the wounds from the past opening itself to remind me that there would never be a chance for me to rewind everything. That there was nobody else to blame for all the pain I have had to endure all these years but myself.

Jimin tipped my chin gently, wordlessly demanding for my attention. “How about you? Would you do things differently?”

My lips curled down to a bitter smile. I had to choose my words wisely to be able to share what I was feeling. Then I decided that the only way I could properly heal was to be honest with myself and face the bitter truth.

“I would have made different choices, yes,” I told him, looking deep into his eyes to say what I needed him to know about me the most. “I loved him, you know. He was the first person who had taught me about love, how to love, and made me feel loved. I thought he felt the same, but—”

But—

Why?

I have questioned myself the same thing over and over again, wondering why things had gone so wrong.

Jimin’s eyes were full of sorrow when he returned my gaze. “He wouldn’t be fighting so hard to get you back if he didn’t feel the same about you, love.”

Whatever it was that I was expecting to hear from him, certainly was not this. But it was enough to have me ask all the questions that I kept asking myself, everything that I never had the answers to.

“But why did he hurt me? Why does he keep doing these things?”

Why would he make my life feel miserable when all I have ever done was to love him and protect him with everything I had, even when everyone else had forsaken him, when people had forsaken us for being together?

“Why only fight for me now, after everything has been done, instead of then, when I needed him the most?”

Jimin brushed a thumb across my cheek, catching the moisture that had fallen without me realising it happening. “Because he’s desperate. He was lost and now he has no idea how to fix his own mess. Honestly, nobody can really tell the reason why but himself.”

I opened my mouth, quickly closing it again when I failed to find any word to respond to him with. He continued to caress my cheek and I instinctively rubbed my face against his palm, relishing the way he was calming me down. I felt bad about throwing all of this on him, but I was surprised to find him supporting me instead of pushing me away.

He was willing to listen and lend his shoulders for me to cry on, to reach out and willingly put his arms around me to shelter me in his embrace. And I felt extremely selfish for taking it all from him.

“When you talk to him again, ask him all the right questions so both of you can find the answers. Even if he finally gives in and lets you go, you probably wouldn’t be able to move on without knowing exactly what is going on in his mind. It will be hard for you to stop questioning things when you have absolutely no idea why he did all the things he had done.”

He was right. I knew he was and I knew that he was just saying all the things I should have known already but had slipped my mind when I was dealing with the situation with my emotions instead of using my head.

His words opened my eyes and I could feel the weight that had been filling my chest slowly being lifted.

“But you have to know this—” he suddenly added, right before I could even say anything. “No matter what his reasons were, they were never your fault. It wasn’t your fault that he hurt you. It was never your fault to feel so broken. And it was certainly not your fault when he broke your heart and your trust each time you gave him second, third, and many more chances by forgiving him and letting him back into your life. It’s always hard for someone to forgive others when they are hurt. Yet you have such a big heart to be able to forgive someone like that and welcome him with open arms. It’s his fault to take that for granted.”

“Why do you always have the right words to say?” my voice was small, cracking at the end of my words. But it was easy to notice how I was slowly healing. Not entirely. Not yet. But being able to speak about my problems and not dwell on them on my own truly helped.

This time, the smile he gave me reached his eyes. I could feel it and see it from the way he was looking at me before he finally said the words, “Because I love you.”

His words sent sparks fluttering inside my chest. It came to me so suddenly that I sucked my breath, and he caught my lips just as the first sob escaped me. Instead of crying, I found myself once again drowning in him and I leaned in for more, to let him devour every part of me that needed release until I could feel myself whole again through his touch.

“If only I had met you first—” he whispered to me when he pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against mine. It was the same wishful thinking that he kept telling me, the same words we kept saying to each other. But this time, it felt somewhat—blissful, instead of feeling bittersweet to think about it.

“What would you do if we had?”

Jimin sighed. “I can’t promise you that we wouldn’t have some hard times. You know how stubborn I can be at times,” he said, making us both chuckle. “But I will never give up so easily and walk away when problem comes between us. I would never do that to you.”

From the past half of year I had known him, I knew that Jimin would never lie to me, even if it was only to make me feel better. I could see it in his eyes that he was telling me nothing but the truth. And right at that moment, just as we lost ourselves in our gazes, I felt something inside me that was begging me to do just the same, to only give him the truth and to always be honest with him.

Especially about what I was feeling.

“I love you, Jimin.”

Another day came passing by, another guest came to give me a surprise visit.

This time, though, the surprise was welcomed. Even if I clearly was not expecting to see her there.

She came in when I was snoozing off the exhaustion after my morning routines—the physical therapy and blood test which was taken to see how well I was hanging on after I had gotten the last drug pumped into my system. I was doing fine this morning. Yet on that afternoon, I woke up to a pain in my stomach. It had me clenching my hands tight but surprisingly felt no urge to throw my lunch out of my belly.

That was a first.

As my eyes slowly cleared out of the haze, that was when I finally saw her.

It was like looking through a piece of an old portrait the way I found her. Perched at the edge of my bed, she had her back facing the window, allowing the silver strands combing her dark hair to glow under the sunlight. She had yet to notice me awake as she had her head down, humming softly as she was peeling a tangerine so patiently and cleaning it up before placing them on a plate.

Just like the way she used to do it back when she was nursing my ailing mother.

“K-Kara?”

She nearly let go of the fruit in her hand at the sound of my voice, but managed to place it back into its basket as she moved to reach my hand. “Oh, baby—you’re awake,” she said, looking at me with her misty eyes. I knew then that some time while she was watching me asleep, she must have been crying.

The endearment she was giving me made me smile though, completely distracting me from her rattled state. “I’m not a baby, Kara. I’m about 30, after all,” I told her with a smile as I pushed myself up to sit.

Yet she scoffed and waved her small hand at me. “Almost. But not yet. It’s nowhere near your birthday yet,” she told me, smiling as she did, before a frown came to her face the minute she heard me clearing my dry throat. “What do you need? How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” I told her, frowning, and she was quick to leave her seat to help me with a glass of water.

“I peeled some tangerines for you,” she said as I slowly drank my water, waking myself up from the drowsiness which still remained. “Your friend—he told me that tangerine helps ease the bitterness on your tongue and might stop you from getting nausea before mealtime. Though he did warn me not to let you eat too much so you can still have your meal.”

“My friend?” I looked up to her, creasing my brows as I tried to think of someone who might have been there while I was sleeping. Hoseok had been absent as he was busy with a case at work while Yoongi was busy on his own projects to deal with. Which only left one other person. “Oh, was Jimin here?”

“Yes, Jimin. That’s his name,” Kara told me while sitting down next to the bed, grabbing the basket of tangerines back onto her lap to finish what she was doing. “He came by just when I got here and passed me these fresh, sweet looking tangerines. Told me that he would usually peel them for you whenever he is here to watch over you while you are sleeping.”

“Oh—”

My cheeks started heating up as if I was a teenage girl getting caught having her first boy crush. Or her first boyfriend. Kara must have caught on to it as she lifted her eyebrows.

“Someone special?”

I looked down, smiling to my lap. “Sort of,” I said. Then I remembered back when I was a teenage girl, when Kara used to sit in the dining room with my mother, sipping tea while they would gossip around on the neighbours and their old high school friends. And I remembered how Kara was the one to tease me when I got home with a boy the first time.

“We’re sort of seeing each other now,” I finally told her. Though judging from the way she was smiling, she could probably tell it was the case already.

Leaning forward, she passed me a plate of peeled tangerines for me to eat and asked me, “Tell me about him.”

And I did.

The next thing I knew, we began talking so normally and easily like we used to so many years ago. Starting from Jimin and how our relationship had grown, the funny stories I have had since I got into the hospital, and reminisced a few memories of my teenage years—skipping all the bad memories and the horrible parts of our past—all while we ate the tangerines Jimin had left behind and I had even managed to eat some soft cookies that Kara had bought for me.

Everything felt so comfortable and I felt so in peace. Everything just felt so right. And suddenly, all the painful memories between us—the fights, the resentment, and the disappointment I felt—seemed like they had never existed.

“What is it?” Kara asked me when she heard me chuckling to myself. Her smile was warm and her eyes were bright as if the sound slipping out of my lips were the most wonderful thing she had ever heard.

“Nothing, it’s just—” I chuckled some more, shaking my head for thinking about this. “It’s just that I’ve been lonely for so long and now suddenly—suddenly, everyone keeps coming back into my life. I’ve been getting the most random visits from the people that I had least expected. It’s just surprising, and funny, to think about. That’s all.”

“People come and go from our lives. It doesn’t mean that it would be impossible to reconnect. Even if it takes years,” she reached out to grab my hand. “Just like us.”

Her eyes grew misty yet again as she pulled back. “And it’s nothing wrong to let people back in once you are ready. No matter how well we are when we are alone, we still need people on our side. People to accompany us as we walk on our path and to lead us to where we need to go.”

I chose not to say anything, though I could hear Jimin’s words echoing inside my head.

“It goes to show that no matter how much you’ve pushed people away, at least some of them would find their way back to you.”

The only question which remained was—had it been too late for me to let my people in?

Kara came back the next day. Visiting me on her own again.

I didn’t think much of it when she came by the day before without my father, knowing how our last encounter had ended up. The last talk I had with my father may have ended with a truce, but it did not necessarily mean that we had reconciled the relationship that was once left broken. He had even stopped calling me on the phone after a while, though the only thing he said to Hoseok was that he had been busy with work.

When I saw Kara sitting there with drowsy eyes, I knew something was wrong. It didn’t take long before she finally confirmed it. All I had to do was told her about what I was going through with the divorce, before she finally admitted that she was going through the same thing. Or, at least, she was considering it.

“You’re divorcing my father?”

Kara’s lips curl down to a thin line. “Nothing official yet. I just—I just have been thinking about leaving him. That it would be best if we separate before things fall apart.”

There was a nagging feeling brewing inside my chest. All because I saw something familiar in the way she talked about him. I saw the same look on my mother when she told me about my father’s affair a long time ago.

“What happened?”

Kara pursed her lips together and looked away. A heavy sigh escaped her just as she began to speak, “At first, things just remained the same. His work always comes first. He still travels a lot for his business, opening shops here and there, attending off-shore meetings, visiting new places—” her voice trailed and her whole body started shaking as she took a deep breath. “I’ve always understood that he has his priorities straight and nothing has ever changed. He’s still the same caring, loving man, always tends to my needs and spends his time with me. Even if he spends just as much time at home as he does staying out.”

She looked at me, and her eyes grew misty. “Then I noticed that lately, he seemed—happier. I had thought it might have been something about you, because he’s been keeping contact with you. He spends time in the kitchen a lot, enjoying his moment there as he tries different recipes every night, cooking for me,” she says with a soft chuckle, and I suddenly picture him there—just like how I had found him the day I went back home to visit, when he cooked us dinner.

“He’s also been spending time at the gym,” she laughed. “Can you believe it? Your Dad, who had never cared about how he would look like, suddenly beginning to care about appearance.”

No, I could never imagine my father being at the gym, keeping his figure as if he was not an ageing parent. I should be laughing with Kara, thinking about him with wonder. But her laugh was bitter and I suddenly knew where this was heading. So I bit my tongue and kept silent.

“I thought he was trying to keep himself looking good so he can make me happy. He’s been joining me on a few gatherings, meeting up with the neighbours, coming with me to meet up with some of our friends,” she sighed. And that was when her mood changed. “But, that’s not the case with your Dad, is it?”

No, it was not. And I still said nothing.

“I went to his office one day before he was supposed to go on his business trip. It was the first time I met his new assistant. His very much younger assistant. Curvy, young, fresh, with thick hair and soft makeup and a coy smile that I knew your Dad would love,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes. “I should’ve seen the signs. I knew that man for years and I still failed to see it. Or maybe I did, but I just refused to see it as it was.”

A sense of bitterness came over me. I could not understand the nature of the rushing emotions that came bubbling up, for I had no idea what to think or feel about the ordeal my stepmother had found herself in. Should I be happy, for karma finally showing itself? Should I feel guilty and shameful for even thinking that way? Or should I feel sad for her?

“Did you think that you could change him?”

Kara shrugged, looking defeated. “I honestly don’t know what to believe. Maybe I was too naive,” she sighed. “I’ve never told you this, but I still blame myself for the pain we caused to your mother. Yet I stayed and I kept telling myself that he still needed me. I kept making myself believe that your mother never knew about what was going on between us. But after your visit, you opened my eyes and I knew that I had only been lying to myself. I should’ve also reminded myself what kind of man he is, but—”

Even after years of not seeing my own father, there was no possible way I could forget who he was and what kind of man he was.

Jungkook may have his reasons to hurt me. No matter how much I tried to deny it, I knew that he had his own reason on why he kept making terrible mistakes after another and why he had tormented me in the end, all because I knew his flaws. And it was the reason why I had always try to be the better and stronger person to give him a chance whenever he promised to do what was right until he could no longer keep his own words.

But that was never the case with my father.

The reason why he cheated was simply that. He was just a cheater who did so only because he could.

“So what now? What are you going to do now if you’re not coming home to Dad?”

“I went back to live with my parents,” she said, suddenly looking brighter now that she was talking about her plans. “And I’ll be renting a place downtown so I can be with you.”

Shaking my head, I refused to take her offer. I had witnessed what my mother had to go through and I knew how I felt with what was going on with me now to know better than to let her focus on me instead of getting her life back together. “You should focus on yourself. You don’t have to—” I stopped, pondering my next words a little before I voiced out my doubts. “If you’re here to help me because you are looking for redemption, then—”

“No, that is not what I’m looking for,” she sternly said, pointing her finger at me the way she used to whenever she had to chastise me in place of my mother. “I’m here because I want to. Even before I married your father, I had already looked at you as if you were my own daughter. I had already loved you then, and it had never changed no matter what had happened between us.”

Great. I was not expecting to be the one choking out with emotions after what she had spilled on me, but I did. Once again, I was reminded of the good old days, back when she was just coming to our house to spend time with my mother while my father was away on his trips and meddled with my teenage crushes because I could not talk about it with my parents. Back then, she was my Mom’s best friend who acted more like my favourite aunt and an older sister instead of the woman who had stolen my father away from us.

“I’ve lost so many years of knowing you, of being with you. I refuse to lose any more of it,” she said, this time choking with the same sobbing emotion as the one brimming inside me.

“What if I don’t get better, then what—”

She pressed a finger to my lips, shutting me up. Though her stern attitude was nothing compared to the look she was giving me through her gaze. She was not only looking at me with pain in her eyes. There was something else there when she looked at me. A look that she had been trying to conceal by forcing herself to be hopeful and full of joy.

It was fear.

Fear that I could feel rushing out of her when she spoke with her voice shaking emotionally, “I will take whatever I can get as long as I am here with you. You hear me? I’m not walking away from you and leave you be when you need help. Never again.”

It was happening again.

The highs and lows of my life just kept on coming to me like strong waves taking over the ocean.

Just when I felt things were going great, when I felt hopeful enough to make future plans, things instantly fell short to make sure it would never happen.

I was supposed to be getting better.

I was supposed to be planning my life ahead, of trying to find a place for both Jimin and me to try and continue to live like regular people. We were supposed to be on our way to find houses with big yards and white picket fences for both of us, looking through pictures of dogs or cats in the animal shelters for us to adopt.

Instead, here I was, waking up with more pain. At the end of the week, instead of feeling better and proving to the doctor that I would be able to live independently, I had only gotten worse, much worse, and I finally woke up at my lowest point one morning that I dreaded ever waking up at all.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” Kara asked me when she found me curling on the bed. With tears flowing out as my body temperature was high with a fever.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, closing my eyes when the lies burned my tongue. Though I knew it was not the words I said which was hurting me. It was my own body, falling apart to the demon that had been eating me up inside.

“The doctor said he will come back with the test results and update us about what is going on,” Kara said as she passed the lunch tray. I could tell how hard she was trying to stay calm, but her own hands betrayed her when they kept shaking while she was preparing for my meal. “In the meantime, try to eat a little.”

“I can’t,” I told her, closing my eyes when talking alone felt too painful for me to do.

I tried to wet my lips, but it would do nothing to lessen the dryness and the patches on my drying lips. I tried putting on chapsticks and had even tried to put on the various types of lip balms that Kara had bought me. Nothing. I also had blisters inside my mouth which made it hard for me to eat anything.

“I remember when your mother had that too. I think soft pudding and soft ice cream helped her a lot back then. That’s why I figured I should get some for you so you could at least have some snacks,” Kara said as she pulled a few snacks out of the grocery bag that she had brought with her today.

My stomach was churning with both nausea and hunger, but I snatched the pudding anyway and forced myself to eat.

“Well?”

Swallowing slowly, I nodded timidly. “As long as I don’t have to chew, I might be okay,” I said with relief as I gobbled a few scoops of the pudding without a problem, though only seconds after the final word was out, I instantly winced in pain.

“The doctor better be here quick before I drag him down here myself,” Kara hissed, clenching her hands before she helped me open another container of the sweet pudding she bought me while I kept quiet.

We were scheduled to see the doctor today, but not for the reason of finding out what was wrong with me. We were supposed to talk about our plans for getting me out of here. After I had told Kara about what Jimin and I had planned, she had taken it upon herself to meet the doctor and requested that he would consider it, while also offered to take up the role as my guardian and caretaker if the hospital was willing to approve my release and make me take all the treatments as an outpatient like I used to.

With what had been going on since I woke up this morning, I already knew that we would be talking about all the different things and that I would not be getting all the answers I wanted.

Two containers of soft pudding and a small cup-sized of soft ice cream later, a nurse in her blue scrub came into the room and prepared me to take a trip downstairs. There was nothing much she could say when I asked her about it, only that the doctor needed me to take a quick visit down the lab before meeting him, and that he had something urgent to say to me after I had some blood work done.

All the way down to the doctors’ lobby with the nurse and Kara at my side, I had instantly felt it.

The dream of having a normal life shattering the closer I was to meet Dr. Kim. No more hopes for having a house with a beautiful white picket fence around it, no more hopes of building a peaceful life with Jimin.

I was sure of it even without the doctors confirming it for me beforehand when I could already feel it. After continuous chemotherapy and radiation, the strength and positive outcome that I was feeling slowly became null. I was feeling the pain again, I had no progress against the increasing pain and drowsiness I was feeling, and after a few days of finally being able to move freely on my own without anyone else’s assistance, I was suddenly becoming immobilised.

Pretty sure it was for that reason Dr. Kim had invited me to visit him in his office instead of having him come to my room as usual. There had been many changes happening already to make me feel cautious and tense. Like how today’s drug treatment was cancelled and how the schedule for my radiation—which was supposed to happen right before I was being released—was moved to an undefined future date.

The minute I sat right across from the doctor right in front of his desk, I already knew that he had come here bearing unpleasant news before he even said anything.

I could tell by the way he entered the room without even looking my way, and also from the quick exchange of glance he made with Kara as he was taking his seat behind his desk. And then there was the sigh which escaped his lips when he looked down on his notes. The deep sigh which he would always make each time he knew he was about to disappoint someone with what he was about to say. He even wore the grim look on his face, one which had his brows furrowing so deeply it made him look extremely tired and older than he actually was.

At least he had his white hospital coat disposed of before he sat down, giving me a leeway to treat him like a friend. Just the way he wanted me to.

Except that he had yet to raise his face to look at me. He still had his eyes down as he flipped through the folder on his desk, my full name imprinted on its front cover and right on the top of the papers which looked similar to my previous test results.

“Lay it on me, Doc. What’s the verdict?”

Dr. Kim lifted his face and smiled. “It’s Seokjin, remember? I’m off-duty the minute that coat is off,” he said, pointing at the coat hanged right at his door with his thumb as he winked playfully. For a moment there, the tension in the room lessened with his cheekiness. Only briefly, and then it fell back in place when his cheeky smile turned into his signature regretful one.

His silence made me wonder if he was planning to take it easy, going on a round route of giving me nice words and some positive news to distract me from the negative ones. But he knew me well enough at this point to know that it would never work on me. Enough to know that I would prefer for him to be honest instead of giving me false hopes.

“Alright—” he started, sighing once more as he straightened himself on his seat, bracing himself for what he was about to say. “I know that I had promised to keep you updated with your progress and see if we could get you out of here. You know how much I hate to do this, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Raising my brows, I could only guess what this meeting was all about and what the doctor was trying to tell me. “You’re denying my request of getting released from the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry about this, and it’s not that the hospital is completely denying to let you continue as an outpatient, which I believe you could, or that I don’t trust you to nurse ______,” he said, glancing at Kara on this part before he turned back to look at me. “I do trust your family to keep an eye on you while you are out there. It’s just that this is going to have to wait.”

“How so?”

“A new progress has occurred after our last test and with your current condition, it seems impossible to let you go before giving you another treatment.”

“Just one treatment?” I asked him while trying to figure out what he might be planning for me.

Seokjin nodded solemnly. “Just as predicted, the cancer has stopped responding to your treatments. The chemo did well at first, and your body reacted the way it should until it didn’t, even with the new drug we have added in the mix. The cancer seems to be fighting back, and we’re beginning to worry that the radiation will not be able to keep up with how fast it is growing.”

Kara reached for my hand and clenched tightly. “So, what’s our option?” she asked the doctor. Her presence comforted me, but I could not deny that I was wishing to have my brother here with me to hear this news with us instead of having to wait until I could break it down to him later.

“Your first option would be to go through radiation if only we could get it sooner than we had it planned. The X-ray photos we took from you after the last radiation showed great results, but we can’t do it simultaneously, and the pain you have been experiencing only indicates that the mass seems to keep on growing during the spare time we have between treatments. So we’ve been talking about placing you in surgery,” he said, as if he had it all figured out.

“After looking through your family history and your mother’s case, we have found that you share the same T-cells as your mother, and it seems that the cancer is building up around it the same way it did with your mother. If I’m right, it will resume to progress the way it did with your mother. The only way I can give you clearance is if we go ahead with the surgery and see if we can take it out before it gets any worse. But—” Seokjin stopped for a moment, having quite a hard time to choose his words. “—with the size of the mass growth we have now and where it is situated, the risk would be too high.”

Kara’s grip on my hand tightened, and I could have never been more grateful to have her there so she could keep me grounded. The new information was making my head spin.

“Your body is still recovering from the vigorous chemotherapy treatments you have been put through so we’re supposed to wait until you are ready to get you to another drug treatment or the upcoming radiation. But like I said, it’s a race against time. The cancer is getting aggressive and if we don’t move fast to remove it, it might progress further into the next level of its metastasis. It could either spread into a wider area, or—it would strike you at your fatal points.”

I knew that he was trying to tell me everything there was to know about my disease. But I hated the fact that he sounded like he was trying to persuade me into agreeing and let him cut me open to get this thing out of my body. And I hated that he made it seem like I had no other option.

“How—how bad would the spreading be?” I heard Kara taking over the conversation while I was mulling over the new fact that I was still having a hard time processing.

Seokjin kept his eyes on me for a moment, like he knew I was having trouble making a decision. Then he looked at Kara, sounding calm and collected when he said, “Looking at where it is located now, the metastasis could head straight into the lungs, and there is always a risk of having it reaching the brain area.”

Just like my mother, I suddenly wondered with a shudder as I recalled the day she fell into a coma when the mass inside her body progressed so rapidly, as if it had taken a turn overnight and bypassed her radiation when it began building around the soft tissues in her body. Her lungs taking the hardest blow before her brain seized to function.

“The only thing that I must warn you about is that through the surgery, the doctors tend to be aggressive upon removing this type of cancer.”

A high-risk surgery. So that was the reason why he had chosen to have this talk in his private area, instead of in the open space of my room.

“What are my odds of getting through it completely intact?”

“40 to 60 percent of survival, give or take,” he said, though it was clear to me that he was trying so hard not to make empty promises when he was not entirely sure about it.

“So basically, what you’re saying is that I’ll either die of this cancer or die in the hands of the people trying to save me?” I was practically shaking so hard after listening to everything he had to say and my heartbeat was racing so hard I could barely breathe.

How my voice came out so calm and steady at this point was beyond me.

“You could put it that way,” he shrugged, though it was obvious that he hated having to tell me all of this. For not being able to give me something positive to hold on to. “But it would be no better than to wait until the chemotherapy and radiation could finally work against it. If you choose to remain with the therapy and medications you are currently in, we can still try to intensify or add the dose on the next radiation to help you heal slowly, use it to reduce the pain until we get through the next one. But we have no clue how much time the mass will stay dormant this time before it resumes its growth.”

At this point, it really did seem like I had no other choice. It was either to take that risk so I could have a chance to have some extra time in life, or fall back and let fate decide what to do with my life.

I recalled having him offering me to have the radiation to cut down the nerves which allowed me to stop feeling any pain so I could get through the treatments more smoothly. But I had refused to do it long ago as it would be like deceiving myself and making me forget that I was going through this.

I could not decide. I felt so lost and afraid. Afraid of making the wrong choices when my own life, my own future, was at risk.

“If you were the one to make the choice, what would you say would be the better option for me to take?”

Seokjin kept his eyes on me when he spoke, as if he was trying to talk me down into giving in. “If it was up to me, then I say we remove it. It’s a high risk, but we are on a race against time and we have to move quickly if we want to get a step ahead.”

“Will you be alright on your own?”

Kara tightened her coat on while watching me closely. The nighttime had fallen and she had to return home.

She had a clearance to stay the night as my guardian, but she knew that I would want to spend some time with Jimin—even if she never knew how often Jimin would spend the night in my bed at night—while she would try to find a way to talk to my brother and update him with everything that we had just found out today.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her, forcing a smile so I could convince her the best I could. “Jimin would probably come to visit me before bedtime anyway to keep me company. Even if he’s not coming, I’m tired enough to fall asleep anytime soon.”

The lie felt bitter on my tongue, but I was glad that Kara never caught on to it.

“Okay, but keep your phone close and in hands reach so we can stay in contact. I’ll be here before noon tomorrow,” she said, before kissing my cheek one last time and walked out the door.

The room fell silent right after. It was not long until the nurses came in for the last round of the night and the lights were turned off, but I could not find sleep coming to me soon enough. Hours passed and my mind was still moving a mile a minute, pondering over the things that we had talked about earlier today.

The night continued to linger, and I began to notice that there was no sign of Jimin coming into my room.

I waited until an hour passed. Then another hour. Still no sign of him.

I had no idea what came over me. Perhaps the need to find someone to talk to had made me feel impatient and restless. Perhaps the stress was compelling me to step out of the room when it was suddenly starting to make me feel claustrophobic.

Though I could also say that I was probably just missing him so badly, since I have gotten used to sleeping in his arms.

Before I knew it, I was pushing myself off the bed. There was no infusion bag attached to me and no IV pole to hold me back, so I had thought I would have no problem moving on my own without help or a wheelchair. But it surely didn’t take long for me to realise how wrong I was.

The pain began to build up when I was only halfway out on my journey. My breath was getting heavy and my chest was growing tight. I only told myself that I was doing okay and that it was only nerves getting to me for the reasons why I was out there making my way to him.

I hated to be the bearer of bad news, to crush all hopes of us living happily together and forgetting about our battles right here inside these walls. Yet I held on to hopes that perhaps facing the truth together would be able to help us to cope, to make us feel stronger against whatever coming in the way of our happiness.

That thought alone was the only thing that kept me going, no matter how badly my body was begging me to stop.

The hallways were dark and deserted at night. I could always hear it when the nurses or security guards were walking around the hall so I was half expecting to be found before I managed to get to him. But there was no one stopping me as I continued walking, holding onto the handrails attached to the walls as I made my way towards the other wing where Jimin’s room is located.

It took me a long time to get there. Though it wasn’t exactly an easy trip to go through either.

But after having my nightdress soaked with sweat, my back aching and my legs shaking as I kept holding myself up and forcing my way, my chest growing tight as I was running out of air even when I was taking my time and moving so slow from one hallway to another, I was finally standing right in front of Jimin’s room.

The door was closed shut, so I had thought that he might have fallen asleep.

He was not supposed to be having his treatment yet, which was why I was not expecting to find him resting so early. But it did stop me from barging in, afraid that I might wake him up and intrude his much-needed rest.

Then I heard his voice, coughing so hard from inside the room. The coughs sounded wet and heavy, and unlike the sounds that I have heard him making when it happened to him before, so I couldn’t wait any longer and gently pushed the door. Just as I stepped inside, calling his name softly, I saw him hunching over on the bed, still in his coughing fit.

His face was pale when he looked up to me, his eyes were red with tears. But it was the stain on his clothes and sheets which had me gasping and nearly stumble crying, because all I saw was blood, dripping from his lips and coming out on each cough escaping him.

“_______,” Jimin choked out my name when he saw me, coughing out blood a few more times and gasping for breath, before he fell unconscious over the bed.

“Jimin!”

238 notes · View notes

purplellamanator · 5 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing!!! Can you do 136 or 125 for KaiAo?

125. "I don't deserve this this gift, Y/n. You have to take it back."

136. "Seriously, staring at me won't get me to be your new year's date."

A/N~ So I hope this is still good. I haven't posted for KaiAo before but I sure had fun with it. That, and I know you said one or the other is fine but I had an idea that could use both so yay! Thanks so much for the ask and thank you for reading my things :D By the way I made this way too long and I'm sorry LOL Also, here is the link for the fabulous prompts!

oOo

Aoko always believed that there was nobody worse in this world than Kaito Kid. Aoko thoroughly believed that down to the marrow of her bones. A fool dressed as a clown, thinking of himself as something of a modern day Robin Hood.

What a joke. He thought that just because he was a magician and could throw some fancy tricks that that made him anything other than what he really was- a thief. He broke the law and it was as simple as that. Aoko hated people like him. He was the worst kind of person there was out there. Having all of Japan fooled into thinking he was in the right; that he was doing no wrong since he was giving the money to people that 'deserved it more'.

Who was he to decide that? No one. Just an idiot who thought that since he knew some nifty tricks and had a cape, that he was a hero.

Aoko never once hid how she felt about Kid. Her father knew, her friends knew- even Kid himself knew.

So why was he always chasing after her? Why was he always getting in her damn way? Even if she wasn't there to pursue him, he was always there! It didn't have to be a Kid heist. And soon she figured that he was there simply to aggravate her. There was no other reason- well. . . no plausible one she could come up with other than that.

Finally, she had exploded.

Someone that she had been casing for days, she finally had them. She had the evidence she needed and now she could simply serve the warrant for arrest. The guy was a bit of a wack job and yes, maybe he pulled a gun on her. But she was a detective on the force. Having to deal with wack jobs that sometimes pulled guns on you were in her job description. It also sadly happened to her on numerous occasions so she liked to think she knew the ones that were serious and would actually pull the trigger.

This guy however was not. He was scared and Aoko just knew it was a threat he wouldn't actually carry out. So she called his bluff- or. . she tried to.

Suddenly she had been knocked to the floor and the culprit had a second to look confused before he was realizing this was his only chance, and then he was gone.

All the while Aoko was staring at his retreating back, eyes wide and too shocked to fully comprehend what just happened.

When it did and she noticed the way a white cape seemed to be draped over her, she went off.

"Get off of me!" she practically barked as she elbowed and wiggled against the chest that was still pressed into her back.

The responding deep chuckle and the way he took his sweet time getting to his feet, pissed her off even more. "That's one way to say thanks."

It felt like Aoko's eye was twitching with her anger. Did he just say. . .

Finally her eyes narrowed impossibly and her features became flushed with her rage. "Thanks? You want me to say thank you?" The question was clearly rhetorical but of course the jerk actually responded.

Kid actually seemed to take the time to think before he responded before nodding his head. "Yeah, I think that would be a nice start."

She couldn't believe the gall. Was he serious. . ? "You just- You just lost me my perp! Do you have any idea who the hell that guy was?" Not giving him a chance to say anything back, she took to steps forward so she could jab him firmly in his chest with each word. "That man is wanted on more than four counts of identity theft. And I've been watching him for an entire week," she practically screeched that last word. "And you just let him walk away!"

Kid actually looked in the direction that she pointed before looking back to her. "He actually ran," he started to say but he must've seen the look on her face because he quickly turned that into, "but that's obviously not important and has nothing to do with what you're saying."

"He was about to shoot you," he said plainly as if she were the dense one.

Aoko still firmly believed that wasn't the case but she knew he would never agree with her and- wait. Why was she even thinking about explaining herself to him?

"If he had then that would've been no concern of yours," she said curtly before shoving him away and making her way to the exit of the apartment building.

"Of course it concerns me," he said gently and admittedly, his soft tone had her freezing but she didn't dare to turn around and look at him. And with what he added, she was glad she hadn't.

"What would I do without my favorite cheerleader at all my heists!" The joking lilt was back in his voice and huffing angrily, she continued to storm out of the building.

oOo

She had gotten hell for losing Tanada-san. After she had spent so much time on it and then Kid's ridiculous blunder, the man was gone. He disappeared again and she knew she wouldn't be finding him anytime soon until there would soon be another incident this man was responsible for.

She had no choice but to take the verbal lashing. What else could she do? Say that it wasn't her fault? That Kaito Kid- another wanted thief, had foiled her plans? Not a chance. Then she'd hear it for letting two idiots go free in one night.

"Aoko-chan, I said I was sorry," he whined from her side in the bar.

All she did was ignore him in hopes that he would finally take the hint and get that she didn't want anything to do with him. Even if he didn't take the hint, she needed to focus. She wasn't in this bar dressed like this for nothing.

She had a lead on Tanada-san; a second chance.

And she would not be wasting it.

"Hey."

She didn't respond.

"Aoko."

Nothing.

"Ne, Aoko," came the annoying whisper again.

Hands balling into a fist, finally she turned to glare at him. "What will it take to get you to leave. Me. Alone," she asked between gritted teeth. "I'm trying to work and because of your ass, I might not get much more of that."

Of all things he could say, she had not expecting this.

"Go out to dinner with me."

The demand was almost laughable to her. She wanted to bust out in chortles because for once, a joke he made was actually funny to her. When she saw that he was actually being serious though, her eyes widened before she narrowed them again.

"You're a joke."

"So . . . is that a yes. . . ?"

"Figure it out," she snapped back.

oOo

Honestly, Aoko thought that he had been joking. She didn't want to be on the brunt side of his jokes so there was no way she would risk taking him seriously for him to just laugh in her face. She would not allow it. Not on her life.

But if it was indeed a joke, it was one he was not willing to let go and was dragging on for weeks.

Every time he showed up while she was working, he'd ask. If she was at his heist, he'd ask. He even included her in one of his Kid notes. Of course, not that he would steal her but in an eloquent way, asked her to give him a date.

He was making her look like a damn fool in front of her colleagues.

She'd admit and say, when it was just them and after she got over the initial anger of the Tanada incident, he was . . . funny. He made her laugh. And when she made it very clear he was not to ever interfere with her cases, she actually liked seeing him. But not at the expense of her image at work.

At this point, she knew he was just trying to get on her good side because when she brought it up, he apologized and said he wouldn't do it again. That caught her off guard considering he had never said sorry for letting Tanada go. He had made it clear he had been sorry that she got in trouble because of it. Not because he pushed her to the ground and in turn, the culprit got away.

Again, in a bar, she felt him before she saw him. She knew he was sitting there beside her; staring intently at her face and probably wondering why she was here. Somehow he knew when she was working and where and right now, she was not working. She was drinking.

Aoko knew he probably wanted to know why but instead, getting annoyed by his piercing stare, she said without looking, "Seriously, staring at me won't get me to be your New Year's date."

She thought that would make him laugh, but he didn't. When he still didn't say anything, she finally looked at him and she froze.

He looked so serious. . .

"What's wrong?"

With a loud and exaggerated sigh, she leaned her cheek against her palm as she stared at her empty glass. "I'm probably gonna get canned," she said simply. Truthfully, she didn't really know why she was being honest with him but after the morning she had, what did she have to lose.

Without missing a beat he asked, "Over the Tanada-san incident?"

Aoko looked at Kid as if in contemplation. Finally making up her mind, she shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she said softly. It was because of the Tanada-san incident but for some peculiar reason, she didn't want him to feel responsible for that. It was her case. It was her fault he got away.

Kid looked like he had been about to say something, but quickly she took notice of the present wrapped neatly beside his arm. Seeing her chance to change the subject she pointed it out.

"What's that? Is it for me?"

Of course it was. She knew that. She was the only one sitting there with him but maybe he was rubbing off on her with his humor.

For once, he looked remorseful as he eyed the neatly wrapped gift. "I don't it would be appropriate now." Clearly he was saying that because she just confessed that she'd likely be fired. Aoko kind of felt guilty for darkening their usually care free mood.

"What? No, I want my gift," she fake pouted in hopes that it would make him lighten up again. The face he was wearing now was too handsome to marred with such a sad and dejected expression. Aoko honestly had a feeling he knew she liked that face because now he only showed to see her with that one. When he had first started following her around, it had been a different face each time. Sometimes it was someone she worked with or the barista that made her morning coffee. Sometimes he even showed up as a woman. But for the past week he had arrived like this. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a gentle but mischievous smile.

Her blush she already had from the alcohol darkened. Yep, she really liked that face.

Her small pout worked though and soon that teasing grin was spread wide across his features. When she went to just grab the gift, he quickly snatched it up. "Nuh uh," he wagged his finger at her and this time she pouted for real. "It's only yours if you go on a date with me," he leaned his face closer to hers and probably expecting her to lean away, his eyes went large when she leaned into him instead.

"That's not very fair if I don't even know what the gift is." Aoko couldn't be sure because of the lighting, but it really looked like he was blushing. Making a proposition she said, "How about I open the gift. If I want it, I go on the date."

They were still leaning close together but she could tell he was actually thinking over her deal. Finally he sat back and slid the gift over to her. And with a winning smirk, she ripped it open.

And almost fainted.

It was a necklace. A very expensive and dazzling necklace. It was littered with diamonds and sapphires, which honestly, she was impressed he knew she liked those. But. . . This wasn't right. She couldn't accept this even if she wanted to. She told him as much.

Kid almost looked offended. "Why not?"

"I don't deserve this gift, Kid-"

"Kaito," he interrupted her to correct her. He had been doing that the more she warmed up to him. He wanted her to stop calling him Kid and to call him Kaito instead.

"And it's my gift. Doesn't that mean I get to decide who deserves it?"

Giving an annoyed huff at being interrupted she said, "You have to take it back. This is way to expensive!"

"Well it's not like I paid for it."

"What?!" Aoko raised her voice but quickly ducked down at all the people that looked their way. "You stole it?!" she whispered furiously between clenched teeth.

Kaito looked at her as if she were crazy. "Of course I did. Did you even look at it? I can't afford that."

She couldn't believe him. Honestly, he was a whole new type of person.

Safe to say, she grabbed the gift along with all the wrapping paper and shoved it roughly into his chest. "Return it," she demanded icily before leaving cash on the counter for her tab.

"If you really want that date, why don't you start by bringing me Tanada-san," she threw over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

oOo

Her bell going off signaling someone was at her door had her wanting to throttle whomever was on the other side. It was three in the freaking morning.

"Kaito, I swear if this is some kind of joke I'll-"

Swinging the door open she froze before really getting angry. No one was there.

But when she went to step out, she almost tripped and then she really froze up.

There sat Tanada-san with his hands bound, mouth taped over and with the looks of being unconscious. A blue bow was placed on the man's head and on closer inspection, there was a note.

A note with the Kid symbol.

I'll be by to pick you up for our date at 7:00PM. Wear that black dress that has no back. You know the one ;)

-KID

#dcmk #dcmk fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #kaito kuroba #aoko nakamouri #ask #drabble #ask prompt #my writing

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secretshinigami · 5 years

Text

Not Alone

Author: @jam-knife (I’m submitting through my main) For: @misas-biggest-fan Pairings/Characters: LxLight Rating/Warnings: Mature. Major characters’ deaths. Mentions of sex (though nothing too explicit, and I kept curse words to a minimum too). Angst, lots of it. Prompt: Light being tailed by L’s ghost Author’s Notes: heyyyyy first of all I LOVED your prompts! I really enjoyed writing this for you, it was a very interesting scenario to explore. I hope you like it!!! Please let me know what you think of it once you finish reading it. Second of all, this fic begins with a scene that was unfortunately cut from the anime (though it wasn’t canon in the manga as far as I know, so it’s not that bad). I don’t know whether or not you’ve watched it, but I’ll leave the link here just in case! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tX1_K-mUH94 Word Count: 12k (approximation)

“You said nothing much to look forward to, Ryuk?”

Light’s words were met only by the rustling sound of leaves being ruffled by a sudden cold breeze, which carried with it the smell of removed earth, moss and death. The dirt stuck to his palms and the fabric of his pants as he stood up. He didn’t even show the empathy it required to rub it off.

“Not really. From now on, I’m going to show you how the new world is built.”

His eyes travelled to the sky, dyed orange and red as dusk fell upon him and his –unusually silent– Shinigami. He didn’t give L’s grave one last glimpse as he turned and left. What was there to see anymore? The rocky cross was nothing more than some artfully carved stone, the body six feet below it just an empty carcass, and the dirt that covered it and clung to his person wasn’t different from any other dirt.

None of it truly represented what L had been. L couldn’t possibly be reduced to or preserved in a graveyard lot. Those symbols were hollow.

L was gone. Forever. Which meant that Light now had green light to do with the world –His world– what he wanted.

That’s when he felt it, for the first time.

A step.

Light froze. That… he must have imagined it. Just in case he glanced over his shoulder, and confirmed there was nobody else there; just Ryuk, hovering half a foot over the paved path. That means he imagined it.

That extra step, as if someone tailing him had synchronized their walking with his own, but their last step was slightly off-key.

No. It was nothing. It had been a long day… a long year actually. But now the war was finally over, and all there was left to do was conquer-

He didn’t manage to conclude that thought before the chilling breeze enveloped him in a personal whirlwind of sorts, seeping into his clothes and attacking his every nerve. It only lasted a moment, but it was more than enough for him to perceive an intention in it. One simple idea. Confrontation.

Light was free. Omnipotent. And L was no more.

That is the plain truth… right?

The second time he noticed it was a few days later. Most of the time he wouldn’t even remember it, but every now and then the extra step would announce itself. Subtle, barely present enough to tickle the back of his head. And it grew worse every time he looked the Task Force members in the eye and manipulated or lied to them.

No, he didn’t feel guilty about L’s death –or about any death that preceded it. To think that the reason why his subconscious invoked a constant sensation of being followed and sneered upon was because of some pathetic remorse was ridiculous. Light Yagami was above all that moral crap humans loved to entertain themselves with. He was the God of a newborn world; he simply did what needed to be done for true justice to prevail.

No matter how many times he told himself this, though, the sensation wouldn’t fade away. But, again, it was just that. A sensation.

Or so it had been, until that night.

He had been working on replicating L’s voice synthesizing program for hours on end. There were no windows on the building’s main room, but he knew it was probably very late by now. Even Ryuk, who didn’t biologically need sleep as the otherworldly being he was, had sprawled himself messily on one of the couches and was snoring to his heart’s content.

Light sighed and went back to work. He remembered how that artificial voice had sounded when L used it against him, and when he lent it to Light so he could contact Namikawa during the Yotsuba period. That’s how he knew he was close to getting it right; going to sleep now would only be a waste of time and concentration.

He tweaked the depth and the vibration here and there, checked it, then went back to correcting it. And finally, he succeeded.

“Hello, one two three, testing…” He spoke into the mic, and beamed when he realized he made it. Yes, this would work.

To make sure it was convincing enough to fool anyone, but mostly just because he was feeling giddy with victory, he tried out some L-ish phrases and worked on his intonation and mood.

“You’re in Japan. And your first victim was… little more than an experiment.”

That was exactly what that man had said… so many months ago. Light could still perfectly recall the smugness dripping off every syllable.

“It won’t be too long now before I am able to sentence you… to death.” He replicated impeccably, the words leaving a sour aftertaste behind as he remembered the rage they had unleashed within him back then.

Light gulped and took a breath before leaning into the mic one more time.

“I am L.”

Are you done playing detective?

Light jumped. The chair rolled beneath him and he landed roughly on the floor, together with the toppled mic and a stack of papers, causing a momentary ruckus. He quickly scrambled to his feet, finding support on the desk behind him as he eyed the room. But there was nothing there.

There was no way. He could have sworn he heard L’s voice –not the digital fake, the real deal– whispering inside his head just now. But it lacked the inconsistency of a memory; it had sounded way too organic. It was nothing like the footstep or the silent vigilance. That… was real.

But it couldn’t be. L was dead –he was absolutely certain of that. He had held his body when it happened. He felt it go numb. Still. He confirmed there was no pulse. Then why… why could he hear him?

Was he going crazy?

Every ounce of rationality in him told him so. But. If that… thing just now was real, then…

“Well… Shinigami exist, don’t they? Literal Gods of Death.” He thought out loud. “So… what would be so weird about ghosts?”

Slowly, as if not to disturb the atmosphere, he picked up the chair and sat back down. Not facing the computer, but the room enveloped in darkness. Nothing happened, but he still raised his knees to his chest and adopted his rival’s trademark position out of instinct.

He was definitely losing it.

“Did I make you mad, L?” Light teased, his lips twisted into a wry smile that lost some of its effect given how shaken he actually felt. Even so, there was no answer. “Nothing to say? Why so shy all of a sudden…”

The room was completely quiet except for Ryuk’s thunderous snores. Light waited for a whole minute, and then two more. There were no words… but that feeling of something lingering remained.

“You said yourself I’d do a great job succeeding you.” He tried out, although he was probably just trailing off. “But we both know you wanted to test me, to see if I gave you a response worthy of Kira. You weren’t expecting to actually see it unfold, were you. Does it irritate you? Do you want to hurt me?”

He was about to give up and go back to work when the quiet, familiar chuckle resonated inside him, sending shivers down his spine.

That’s rich coming from the man responsible for my death.

Light’s heart skipped a beat… and his smile grew darker. So it was really him. He wasn’t crazy, or hallucinating. L was haunting him.

“So what? Have you come to take revenge? Talk about a sore loser.”

That, right there, is where you are wrong, dear. You think you’ve already won, but the war is far from over.

He frowned. Even dead, L continued to be as smug as ever. Had it always been this annoying? Moreover, how come L could say it wasn’t over? What else was there left to do? Who else left to defeat?

“What do you mean? I killed you. Everyone left believes in my innocence and supports me as the new L. I’ve acquired the ultimate power. I can direct the police force as L while enchanting the general public as Kira. There’s nothing and nobody else standing on my way to absolute victory.”

Only silence followed his statements. Even more exasperated, he declared:

“You are already dead, L. You’re dead.”

He waited, but nothing else came from L that night.

That, of course, didn’t mean he was gone for good.

Light continued to hear the extra step following him from room to room. That he learned to ignore over time, since it’s easier for the brain to disregard what it gets used to perceiving –just like not seeing your own nose in front of you all the time unless you actively think about it.

What always caught Light off-guard, even though it had become an everyday thing, was when L spoke to him. Light would normally be able to feel when L was laughing at him, or when something he did made the ghost mad. But every time L spoke actual words, they echoed inside Light’s head and his skin tickled.

It was icky. Plus, talking to L always got Light on his nerves. Even after death, the detective had found a purpose for his existence in unnerving Light. And even that was remarkably ordinary and unsurprising compared to the fact that Light somehow managed to put up with it for over four years.

Four years of snarky remarks over his shoulder. Four years of effort dedicated to ignoring that voice and pretending he didn’t hear it, only for L to slip into his dreams where he couldn’t escape him.

Not all was bad, though. He had already experienced having L study his every move, follow him from room to room… back when they were handcuffed they even had to sleep in the same bed and take showers together. Compared to that, the current situation was not so bad. The lack of chains was an improvement, he no longer had to hide his identity as a mass murderer, and since he already had several years worth of experience with talking to entities nobody else could see, concealing L’s presence to the Task Force wasn’t too hard a task.

Ryuk would sometimes eye him like he had gone insane, but Light had no interest in explaining himself to a Shinigami. He knew what Ryuk thought of death: after passing away, the soul goes to the 無(Mu). The Nothingness. According to that, L’s existence as a ghost should be impossible. But here he was regardless.

L didn’t just talk. Light came to realize he was a great listener too. Maybe ‘realize’ was not the right word; more like… rediscover. Except that back when the man was alive, Light was convinced the only reason why he listened to anything he had to say was because he was desperately trying to blame him for something, even though Light didn’t have memories of being Kira back then.

The fact that L listened to him, now that everything was out in the open and what couldn’t be undone had been done, was… nice? That was not quite it.

Sometimes they’d just debate for hours about justice, life and other philosophical matters; sometimes Light would get engrossed in explaining detail by detail each and every plan he executed against L while the ghost laughed and mockingly praised his ingenuity. Sometimes Light felt so alone he crawled out of the bed he shared with Misa and went to the living room, just to sit down in the dark and talk nonsense to that invisible presence.

Meanwhile, time flew by and the world mutated. Kira had become the universal symbol of justice with little to no opposition from any government or social movement, and the mighty detective that once confronted him had slowly faded away, until people grew to remember him as one of many who rebelled against God and obviously failed.

Ghost L found this hilarious at best, and revolting at worst.

And even though the supernatural factor of their whole relationship also extended to how annoying the ghost could get, Light still got used to him not ever really leaving. Slowly, too gradually to pinpoint when, the rage of an imperfect victory was subdued by the solace of keeping the one person that understood.

Until Sayu was kidnapped by Mello. And that changed everything.

There were more opponents. L would call them ‘successors’. The words that were spoken by the ghost over four years ago began to make sense: the war was far from over. With the rise of Mello and Near, Light felt like he was facing his old rival all over again, except this time everything was messier, and the stakes higher.

They had to give away the Death Note to save Sayu’s life. Light did everything that was at hand to stop them from taking it… but they lost the missile. A defeat of that magnitude… It was something he hadn’t experienced in years. It was even worse than when L publicly humiliated him with his live broadcast.

It reminded him of that time. The rain fell relentlessly. He sat, soaked, and let L massage his feet while those huge, merciless yet peaceful eyes pierced him with the truth that the detective had never, not even for a second, swallowed his bluffs. And it made Light feel stupid and desperate and small. That was how he felt now.

The wrath, the impotence, the absolute disgust it all produced were so intense he did nothing but sit on his chair, staring at the ceiling. Misa approached with a cool drink, probably trying to soothe him, but he lacked the energy and the interest to pretend he gave a fuck, so he simply slapped it off her hands and to the floor.

Why was everyone so useless? Why was he so useless?!

Those two kids… he hated them for getting in his way. And he hated L, for being related to them.

Light stormed out of the room and into the bathroom, the door finding its frame with a bang. He wanted to yell. He wanted to break something. With no means to release his rage, he began briskly ripping his clothes off and turned on the shower. Steam immediately filled the room from floor to ceiling; the heat was suffocating even without exposing himself to the water and that, somehow, was relaxing.

You know, that was a very rude thing to do.

Light growled. Not now. He couldn’t handle L as he was now.

“Nobody asked for your bloody opinion.”

I knew you had some anger management issues, but I never would’ve thought you’d take it out on the only person in your life who’s ever offered you comfort and her unconditional support-

“What do you care, L!” He swirled around, yelling at the empty bathroom. He knew he wouldn’t find the man there when he turned, but screaming at the shapes in the steam was easier. “For someone who isn’t even alive you do have a lot to say. It’s pretty hard to give a shit about what you think when you’re never useful and you’re not even here.”

What do you expect me to do, then?

“I don’t know! How about you face me for once instead of hiding like a coward? Or maybe you could just disappear! Why are you even here?!”

He was being irrational, he knew it. And he could only imagine what Misa or Ryuk would think of all this if they walked in on him, screaming at the air. But he didn’t care if he didn’t make sense; he was too angry, and the only one he wanted to take it out on was L. Because it was his fault that people continued to sabotage his perfect plans. If L hadn’t shown up… everything would have been easier.

Do you really want me to leave?

“Yes.” He answered, without a shade of a doubt. “That’s the only thing I’ve wanted ever since you first threatened to sentence me to death. I thought you picked that up when I held you in my arms and watched you die with a smile on my face. Or didn’t you see me laughing at your grave?”

I did.

“Then what the hell are you waiting for?”

A moment of silence followed. Then, hesitantly…

I can’t.

What?

“Why?” Light asked, reaching the limits of his patience.

You think that if I knew I’d still be here? Don’t flatter yourself. The voice answered dryly. It was irritating, but… somewhere deep inside those words he could identify an edge of frustration and… pain. There is something that draws me towards you. Like there’s something I need to do, and it won’t let me go until I do it. But whatever that is I have no idea.

Light huffed, holding his head in his hands.

“Why couldn’t you just die normally…”

I ask myself the same thing every day.

He breathed out. So there was no way to get rid of L as it was. No chance of freedom in the near future. Well, at least he could vent out a bit. Resigned, he finished stripping and stepped into the shower.

He reached out to take the soap, and froze. The presence… L’s ghost was usually respectful of his personal space but now, it had followed him into the shower.

“What are you doing?” Light asked cautiously, his face beat red and not because of the heat. He didn’t want L in his shower, not even for old times’ sake.

You must hate my guts. Not that I have any anymore.

“Isn’t that obvious?” He retorted, not knowing when the atmosphere got so dense or why he felt uneasy about it.

I guess. Still, I never thought of our altercation as something personal.

“We literally tried to get the other killed for months, L. I’d say it was pretty personal.” Light frowned, earning himself a giggle from L.

Fine, I guess you’re right. However, I don’t think I hate you now. I hate what you did. What you still insist on doing. But I don’t hate you, even though it doesn’t really make any sense.

He didn’t answer. He had no words worth speaking, and even if he did, he wouldn’t know what to do with them.

I’m sorry. I wish I could disappear just as much as you do.

“It’s okay. I… don’t mind having someone to talk to either.” He admitted through gritted teeth.

But, about facing you… I think I might be able to do that much.

What… what was he talking about? Light stayed put as water dripped down his body, feeling the steam behind him shift and change, then settle. His skin tickled with even more intensity than it did before, and for a whole five seconds, he seriously considered running off without turning around to see. But, of course, he didn’t. The temptation was too great to ignore.

When he turned around, every nerve end alert in case he had to fight –even though he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to fight a ghost–, he saw it. A translucent figure, its edges blurring into the steam…

“L…”

The commotion of seeing his face again, his eyes, his knowing expression after so many years was so strong Light stumbled back, and found stability against the dripping tiled wall. L’s pale lips curved into a small smile.

“Better?”

Light gulped. Even his voice sounded more corporeal, now that it was coming out of a mouth and not echoing inside his head. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and reached out to touch him. L, understanding his cautious curiosity, didn’t move.

Light went for the chest, over the point where he felt that last dying throb before L’s heart failed permanently. But when he got close enough to touch, his fingers simply trespassed the specter. Energy tickled like electricity all over his hand and up his forearm. He pulled out in shock, and the steam regrouped around the hole he left behind.

“Could you feel that?” He blurted out before thinking.

“Not at all.” The man answered, calmly even though he was also eyeing his own shape with devouring interest. This was new for him too. It was the first time in over four years that he tried out a physical shape.

Wide translucent eyes beamed when a new idea crossed his mind. L tossed his hand against the shampoo rack, but it didn’t even react. It didn’t show the slightest disturbance. That new discovery had L bedazzled. Meanwhile, Light couldn’t stop staring at him, still not quite grasping that this was real. That he could see L again, just the way he was when he lived. His expressions were even livelier than they were back then, now that he was dead and didn’t need to be cautious with his thoughts.

“Can others see you?”

“I don’t know yet. But given how nobody could hear or perceive me before except for you, I wouldn’t think so.”

“Then, from now on, can you stay like this? Visible I mean.”

L’s eyes narrowed, his features shifting with amusement, and Light looked away, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Did you miss me that much? I’ve always been here though.” He teased. Light thought he’d die of mortification.

“Shut up. I just hate hearing you speak inside my head. It feels icky.”

“Alright then.” The smirk grew meaner.

“Also, step out of my shower. This is already weird enough as it is.”

L’s laugh in response to that couldn’t have been more annoying.

L had been right… for the most part. No other person or living being could see him hovering around Light; they wouldn’t react at all to the late detective’s presence as long as he avoided being trespassed by them.

But coming to realize Ryuk could see and hear him was amusing. For L at least, who could also now perceive the God of Death and seized the opportunity to suffocate the otherworldly being with questions until Ryuk lay on the floor, exhausted. Ryuk, too, seemed flabbergasted to find out ghosts actually existed, and he even taught L how to perfect his manifestation technique, until the specter managed to muster an almost solid-looking consistency he could acquire or shed at will.

Meanwhile, Light felt like his temper was gradually being gnawed at. Having both entities annoying him separately had been irritating enough, but he simply couldn’t have imagined how much worse it would get when they did so together.

“And then he told me he wouldn’t give me any more apples unless I found all the cameras!” Ryuk whined. “Even though he knew of my terribly painful withdrawal symptoms. And then I am the monster…”

“How awful.” L shook his phantasmagoric head in exaggerated disapproval. “Oh Light dear, what a cruel, terrible Master you are.”

“You said it! Heh-heh.” The Shinigami barked in agreement.

That was it. He wasn’t taking it anymore.

Light groaned, tossed the earphones away, snatched a pencil holder from the desk’s top and unchained a vicious rain of pens and pencils against the source of his irritation. L and Ryuk simply sat, amused, and watched the items as they trespassed their intangible forms.

“For the love of everything good in this world and the next, can you both just shut up for a goddamn minute?!”

“Anger management, remember?”

Exasperated, Light simply growled and went back to work.

“Ryuk, go back to my father before the rest begin wondering where you went. We’ll be ambushing Mello’s headquarters in a few hours. I need you to be there so he’ll do the deal of the eyes with you.”

“Heh-heh. Sending others to accept deals you’d spit on yourself.” Ryuk chuckled grimly, his eyes flashing bright red for a moment. “Alright! Let’s catch up later, L.”

L nodded at the Shinigami before it disappeared through the wall. He then came hovering to where Light was and sat –or rather landed– on the desk, facing him.

“So the reason why you forfeited the ownership of the Death Note is not only passing the trouble of handing over half of your remaining lifespan to someone else, but also avoid your father realizing you are a Note owner yourself when he comes back. Am I right, Light?”

“It was the only way.” Light shrugged it off, not quite grasping why L found that little trick so interesting. “How can I hope to rule the New World if I die young? I’m not going to risk my life on the frontline, let alone give my years away.”

“But your own father’s years are alright to sell.”

Light didn’t answer.

“You don’t care at all, do you. You’re straight up throwing him to the wolves. He could be shot to death in there and even if he does survive, he won’t have much of a life ahead of him, will he?”

“Enough.” He mumbled, but L didn’t stop.

“You know it. You know they wholeheartedly believe in that 13-days rule you made up. You know that lie is the only alibi in your hands that’s keeping Aizawa and the rest at bay. Which means… that even if tonight works out how you want it to and Mello is killed by your dad, then you’ll have to murder him in two weeks for your plan not to crumble-”

“That’s enough.” This time his voice came out firmly, and the ghost fell silent. “I’m just doing what needs to be done, L. I thought you of all people would understand that, after you confined and tortured Misa and me for days and even forced my dad to pretend to shoot me.”

“But I didn’t kill anyone. We are not the same-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Light cut him, every muscle in his body tense. His stare was hard, unyielding, when it locked with L’s. “You were perfectly willing to let a criminal use the Death Note to prove the 13-days rule was false. You admitted yourself that you were expecting me, Kira, to instantly kill my dad if he tried to shoot me, because you knew damn well I’d put my own life before his. His death was no more than a calculated risk to you. In fact, in your head, it was the most probable outcome.”

The detective fretted, and Light grinned maliciously. He hit home.

“See? We both do whatever it takes to get what we want. You’re not different from me. You’re not better than me. So, instead of pretending to be surprised by my methods, how about you leave me alone so I can work on getting my Death Note back?”

The silence that followed was smothering. Painfully so. L was no longer looking back at him, but staring through the window. He looked offended mostly, but also guilty. His expression was so open and so sincerely aching Light blinked. So this was how L truly felt about the decisions he took, back when he was alive.

“Fine.” The ghost muttered finally, as his form dissolved in the air and disappeared.

For a moment that sight filled him with pure dread, but then he realized, as his heartbeat settled down, that he could still feel L’s presence coating him. He wasn’t really gone, he had just temporarily left his visible expression.

Good. Light didn’t feel strong or stable enough to face him right now.

A few hours later, Soichiro Yagami died in a hospital bed, relieved to know his son wasn’t a mass murderer.

After returning the Death Note to its rightful owner –a Shinigami that called itself Sidoh– all the Task Force had left to do was wipe their tears away and wrap it up. The trip back to headquarters was silent. Light appreciated that everyone was too shook and devastated about his dad’s death to talk about it.

Once alone in his room, he was free to be himself again.

He began calmly taking his clothes off and getting ready for bed, but before he could invoke some self control, he was already screaming and punching a pillow while tears rolled down his face.

This had been his father’s fault. If he hadn’t been weak… if he had killed Mello instead of hesitating…!

“Why did you let yourself get killed, idiot?!” Light yelled, his throat aching. His hands, which were clutching the pillow with violence, trembled vehemently as his crying echoed through the room and his tears fell, abundantly and showing no signs of stopping. “You didn’t even get rid of him! Why?! You weren’t supposed to die! Y-You… you weren’t supposed to…”

A sob shook his whole body on its way out, and he collapsed on bed, his face buried in the wet pillow. Only soft whimpering could be heard.

Later, he felt the air shift, and electricity tickled him in the leg.

“I thought you were counting on his death.”

Light’s face was swollen from crying when he lifted it from the pillow to look at L’s figure, sitting next to him in the dark with his hand on Light’s thigh. The touch held no weight or warmth, nothing quite organic; just a tingle.

“He was destined to die.” He mumbled weakly as his gaze wandered to the opposite wall. “It’s as you said. Either tonight or within two weeks, he had to. What’s more pathetic is that he only lived for a few hours after doing the deal… which means… that even if he hadn’t done it, he didn’t have much time left in his clock to begin with. He would’ve passed away naturally by tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Why are you crying, then?” L inquired softly, as his hand caressed up and down Light’s leg. “Because you couldn’t see Mello dead?”

Were other the context Light would’ve found the sparkly sensation bothersome –even embarrassing. He didn’t want to reach the level of feebleness that made him deserve L’s consolations. But that was not the case. The detective’s almost inexistent touch was comforting. Light closed his eyes, trying to remember what the real thing felt like, while fighting the devastating pang L’s question induced in him.

“My father’s death was inevitable. I know I did what I had to do. Still… that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead. In an ideal setting, Aizawa, Ide or even Matsuda would’ve taken it upon themselves to do the deal and kill Mello.”

He sat up, feeling the warmth building behind his eyes as new tears accumulated.

“Then… I could’ve killed any of them easily. But he just had to be… so freaking moral. He had to sacrifice himself… why? Nobody would’ve judged him if he had let someone else do it, then why?! It was that same attitude that got him shot in the end!”

Furious, he wiped the tears away before they overflowed. It was the truth. Even when his father died a somewhat happy death, he would’ve preferred it had been anyone else in his place. Still…

Light’s breathing settled, and he looked L in the eyes with determination.

“However, when he stood with Mello in that room, and when the building exploded and all the cameras went blank… and even as he lay there dying… all I could think of was ‘kill Mello. Kill him for me. Don’t leave without taking him down with you’.”

The pain of actually losing his dad came a while after, and even then it had been tainted with frustration and resentment. He wanted Mello dead. That, together with retrieving the Death Note, had been the whole point of the mission, and he had failed because his father chose the worst possible scenario to be humanitarian.

Light hated the feeling. He lost, even though he did nothing wrong. He hated not having control over his own battles. He hated how his father had chosen to die without revenge. He hated Mello for being alive out there somewhere.

“Even if it had been someone else in his place, I know your methods well enough by now to know you won’t be able to hide your true self forever.” L placed a finger on his chin. Even though the gesture wasn’t useful in practice since he simply trespassed it, Light still raised his head to look at him “Eventually, you’ll be wiping all that is left of the Task Force. And then it won’t matter anymore that your dad died today.”

Yes. L was right. Light… would have killed Soichiro eventually. It was only natural to take that course of action. And Light would bite his tongue and choke on it before letting himself hesitate on that matter. L’s eyes as they regarded him were incredibly sad, but not surprised.

“Do you find me disgusting, L?” He asked, a wry smile taking over his lips even though he was terrified of the answer he’d get. The ghost shook his head.

“No, Light.” An incorporeal hand brushed over his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and leaned into the tingle. “I’m just trying to decipher whether you’re a remorseless psychopath faking the pain you show, or if you’re actually acting remorseless to hide how much you’ve wounded yourself. Either way… I find you pitiful.”

And Light wanted to be angry. He tried his best to feel rage, indignation… even shame. But he couldn’t find it in himself. He was empty.

“Maybe… you’re both.”

“Tell me, Light. Did Misa approve of this plan?”

“Shut up.” He scowled, fixing his tie in front of the mirror.

Of course the answer was no. If Misa ever found out about this then she would gouge out both his and Takada’s guts. Giving up her Death Note and passing it to Mikami didn’t really make her any less lethal.

“I thought so. Especially by the way you whispered sweet nothings into the phone earlier.”

“Look, L.” Light turned around to face the late detective. L had become so good at expressing a physical shape that, if it weren’t for the blur at the edges when he moved, Light could’ve believed he was actually standing there in flesh and bone. “Whatever I choose to do with my love life is not your business, especially if it has something to do with my plans as Kira.”

L narrowed his eyes. Whether or not he was judging Light was hard to say.

“You have no moral structure whatsoever, do you?”

“As previously established, you don’t have much of that either-”

“I know.” The ghost cut him, raising a hand. “And I admit I wouldn’t hesitate to do the exact same thing you’re about to do to gain a benefit, as you already know.” At that, Light looked away. The room was too dark for his blush to be discernible. “Still, your shamelessness continues to amaze me.”

He chuckled ironically, staring the specter down as if it had just dared him to do it.

“Aizawa will come to install the cameras and mics now. Once he begins, I’ll have a perfect excuse to ignore you for the next few hours.” Light opened the box on top of the coffee table and began pulling out wires. He then halted, a meditative twinkle in his eyes, and addressed L. “Actually, could you disappear? I don’t want to see you through the corner of my eye when I-”

“You know that I’ll still be here even if you can’t see me, right?”

“Ah, yes. I forgot you’re a prime voyeur.”

“Trust me; this is about the last place in the world I’d like to be in.” The detective retorted, and for some reason his voice had an irritated edge to it.

“I guess we both have to compromise, then. As long as you stay invisible and keep yourself from talking inside my head until I’m done here, I’ll make sure not to kick your ass in Hell.” Light satirically extended a hand to him. “Deal?”

L simply stared him back, scorn invading his whole expression, before disappearing. Light could feel he was mad –uncharacteristically so. Yes, Light had seen him in a foul mood many times, while they lived chained to each other and they both had to listen to Matsuda speak.

But whatever got him so on edge about tonight, Light had no idea.

In fact, L’s mood grew worse and worse as the night progressed. He didn’t notice it at first; It became a constant buzz in the back of his head after Light looked Takada in the eyes and said ‘I missed you’, so he managed to ignore it quite well. However, by the time all mics and cameras were disconnected, he realized L was on the verge of bursting.

Lately, L’s thoughts had grown more tangible, together with his physical shape. So much so they sometimes became suffocating. When L would forfeit his form and settle back inside his head, Light often had a hard time differentiating their mixed feelings.

In life, L had always been incredibly skilled in the art of preserving a cool semblance. Even when he had been visibly annoyed or angry, the way he carried himself always sold the idea that the matter in hand was no more than just a mild inconvenience for him.

“Listen, Kiyomi. I am the real Kira.”

Light would’ve never expected to come face to face with that bubbling rage.

Takada gasped in surprise.

“That’s right. I’m Kira.” He repeated, mostly to confirm she had heard him right, but also to assure himself against L’s violent, thundering emotions. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.” Takada didn’t respond immediately, so Light took the chance to raise the phone to his ear and wrap up the conversation with Mikami. “Listen. I won’t allow you to ask Kiyomi who I am; you don’t need to know my identity.”

“Yes. I’ll leave the rest to you, God.”

Bastard.

Light shook. It had been a while since he had last heard L’s voice inside his head. Didn’t he explicitly tell him not to do that?! He’d make sure to devote the rest of his life to researching a way to kill a ghost again. He hung up the phone and turned around to address Kiyomi, as he stifled down his irritation.

“Do you understand? I am Kira. The man who was on the phone, is one of my followers who I’ve shared my power with.”

Takada’s eyes lit up.

“I… I can’t believe it’s you!” She whispered in awe. “You are the only man I’ve ever really admired. To be honest… the only man I’ve ever felt a connection with.” L growled. “And now, to find out you’re Kira… it’s incredible.”

As planned, Light had Takada curled around his finger in no time. He would’ve been able to fully enjoy the sweet taste of victory if it weren’t for L’s sour invasion. Oh, but he wasn’t about to let that bloody ghost spoil his mood. Was he pissed off now? Then he was about to become completely infuriated.

Light stepped closer and willfully lowered his voice to a deep whisper as he cupped Takada’s cheek in his hand.

“Please… join me, Kiyomi. And you will be the goddess of the New World.”

“Light…” She immediately pulled him into an embrace he didn’t fail to return.

He smirked over her shoulder –he had her right where he wanted her… and she was about to have him right where she wanted him too.

When Light leaned down to kiss her, L’s wrath pulsed through him.

Two and a half hours later, Light finished doing his tie, put his coat on and exited the room. Takada had already left –it was best for both that they weren’t seen leaving the hotel together.

Everything was working out smoothly. He now had a connection to Mikami through her, which would make everything easier from now on. The annihilation of the whole Task Force, together with the SPK and Near were visible in the horizon. In a matter of days, there would be no one left in his way. He’d be the only, unquestioned God of his own New World.

Confident with his secured victory, Light pulled the phone out.

“Light! Are you okay?” Matsuda exclaimed. Of course they were worried, after losing all connection with him for over two hours.

“Yeah… Kiyomi was able to work things out with Kira. I decided that from now on, I’m gonna pretend to be dating her.” L, who had fallen unusually quiet for a while now, suddenly shifted uncomfortably inside of him. He smirked. “We might be able to find Kira that way.”

“Alright, if you say so…” Matsuda answered, and for the musicality in his voice it was clear to everyone that a) he had serious doubts Light was just pretending and b) he knew Light simply hadn’t spent the last two hours with Takada playing Monopoly.

Right after that, a smack could be heard. Matsuda whined out loud as Aizawa scolded him. Light rolled his eyes and hung up.

So you actually went and did it.

He stopped on his tracks, overwhelmed by how the voice reverberated inside him. He growled in annoyance.

“I told you not to do that!”

As an answer to his protest, L materialized in front of him. All the ire he had felt bubbling inside him left. It shook him to realize that L had turned back to his old –living– habits. The expression in his face was barely a washed-down version of the consuming wrath Light now knew inhabited him.

“Still manipulating women and using sex to get what you want, uh?”

“You say it like that’s the worst thing I’ve done.”

“Oh, no. Of course it isn’t.” L shook his head. When he narrowed his eyes, the gaze he bore was venomous. “When are you gonna kill her, then?”

Light gulped, glaring at him. He wanted to be surprised that L brought that up, but he couldn’t; he knew how vicious he could get. The ghost smiled back at him, even though the gesture held no warmth, sympathy or bliss whatsoever. It was a dry smile, filled to the brim with a wish to hurt.

“That’s what you do, isn’t it? Attachment and intimacy are alright as long as you can get something from it. As soon as the other person becomes a hindrance you dispose of them.” L spat. “So? How long until you murder Takada too?”

“I hate you, you know.” Light hissed. “I hate how you always talk like you know everything about everyone. I hate how hypocritical you are, going around making moral statements about other people when you were just as bad or even worse. And I hate how you are convinced that everything has to be about you!”

The ghost took a step back, and Light seized the opportunity to push further. They had already pulled each other down on the mud; they might as well fight.

“Maybe I just like sleeping with Takada. But… oh? Does that irritate you?” One look at the detective’s face told him he had hit the nail’s head. “Does it drive you crazy, that it’s her and not you?”

“This is nonsense. Stop talking before you humiliate yourself.” L growled, earning himself a barking laugh from the other.

“Come on. I felt it. I felt how your blood boiled when she embraced me. Admit it.” The ghost stood there, and said nothing. Suddenly intoxicated with rage and something close to desperation, Light walked up to him and reached out to grab his arm. He grabbed nothing. “Admit you’re jealous.”

“How…” for the first time ever, the specter’s voice came out so terrifyingly low it sent chills down his spine. “… am I supposed to be jealous, when we both know you’re just using her? We both know she’ll soon be dead meat. She isn’t getting anything I haven’t gotten already.”

Light shivered, unable to talk through the knot in his throat.

“You can’t fool me, Light. I see everything, remember? Goddess of the New World… How many times have you used that trick on Misa this month?”

“Shut up.” The words were no more than a tremulous whisper. It was mortifying.

“Then how about this very week?” L pressed, and even though Light couldn’t feel a breath meet his face, he still stepped back, looking hurt. When he replied, his words were calm with bitterness.

“So now we’re pretending you’re not the same?”

It happened often during the lapse of time Light had to cope with L cuffed to his wrist and without his memories of the Death Note. He’d constantly be shaken awake by nightmares that didn’t seem his own. Sometimes the startling would be soft enough to simply wake him up, and he could just roll over and go back to sleep without disturbing L. And sometimes, like that time, he’d physically jump on bed and find himself drenched in cold sweat.

He sat up and looked to his left –by his side, L slept soundly, curled into a ball with his knees to his chest, the half of his face that wasn’t buried in the pillow giving off an expression of peace.

Light sighed deeply as he wiped sweat off his face and neck. He wouldn’t mind being able to lock himself up in the toilet, but handcuffs. He directed his energy into staying still and steadying his breath instead.

“Another nightmare?”

Light blinked. So L wasn’t even half as asleep as he pretended to. He looked at him from below, his face still half-buried in his pillow. It was way too adorable –Light looked away.

“Yes.” The detective sat up too, the sheets sliding down his torso.

“What was it about?”

“I… stood on top of a very tall building.” He narrated, his gaze lost somewhere in the shadows that inhabited the room. “Below, at ground level, people were screaming. I wanted to look down to see what was happening to them, but I was too afraid. Then, from behind… a tall massive shadow hovered over me. It’s silhouette wasn’t that of a human. The thing laughed; that wasn’t human either. I tried to look over my shoulder, and was pushed off the building. I fell. The screaming grew closer…. and I woke up.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.

“Is that all?” L inquired quietly. A crease took shape between Light’s brows, and he fixed his stare on his lap.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not stupid enough to not be able to deduce what you think my dream represents. But, Ryuzaki…” He formed fists with his fingers to keep them from fidgeting, and raised his eyes to L’s. “I can’t be… I don’t remember ever doing any of that. And I know. I know people can do the unspeakable when pushed to the limit, but I’d never kill on my own free will.”

“Light…” L hesitated, and then crawled across the bed to reach out and grab one of the towels from a nearby hanger. When he crawled back, he pressed it to Light’s face. “There is a chance Kira somehow possessed you during that period. In that case, you wouldn’t have been in control of your own actions.”

His tone was soft, but it wasn’t enough to conceal his real thoughts. Light smiled sadly as L wiped the sweat off his neck.

“But you don’t think I was possessed.” He spoke the truth nobody wanted to acknowledge. L stopped drying him. “You’re certain I was the original Kira. Even now, you must be wondering whether I’ve been bluffing ever since I was inside that cell. You’re probably thinking all this is just part of an act; some greater scheme on my behalf.”

The detective didn’t respond immediately. They looked at each other for several seconds; when he did, his words were grave with the amount of seriousness the statement deserved.

“I am.”

Light nodded. He didn’t really blame L for thinking that. He, too, was slowly getting more and more obsessed with the idea that he might have been, indeed, Kira. Yes, the justice system was flawed. But if he had had Kira’s power, would he had actually used it like Kira did?

“I understand.” He replied. “You’re just doing your job. And I want to help however I want. I want to reach the bottom of this, and cleanse my name. It’s just…” Light sighed and scratched his head. Saying it was much more awkward than he had anticipated. “I really wish it could have been different.”

“What?”

“My relationship with you.”

His heart was beating like crazy, but he had already begun talking. The rest gurgled out and he couldn’t restrain it.

“I wish I could’ve stood on equal ground with you when I met you; with me being a detective, not the prime suspect for the greatest mass murder of the decade. I wish I could’ve gotten to know you, without all the games and the lies. We could’ve held conversations that didn’t feel like interrogations. You’re very smart, and determined.” His face was burning up now, but he kept on talking. “Even though that shouldn’t be good, considering you suspect me… I admire that a lot.”

Their eyes locked, and Light’s stomach turned.

“I admire you.”

For a long while, L didn’t move or react at all; instead of widening eyes or abrupt exclamations, that was how the mighty detective processed shock. It was pretty embarrassing for Light, though. The blush crept to his ears and neck, and he was about to roll over and pretend none of that ever happened, when L cleared his throat. A soft, pink shade took over his pointy cheekbones.

“You admire me.” He reiterated, as if not completely believing it. Light would’ve found it funny had he not been focused in his racing pulse. He nodded… and L gulped. The detective raised a hand and brushed a strand of brunet hair away from his eyes. “Do you only admire me?”

“I…”

“How else do you feel about me?” His finger curled around Light’s ear. His voice was soft, but deep. “Tell me.”

“Not all is good.” He admitted, too distracted by the touch to watch his words. “Sometimes I hate you. So much I want to punch you-”

“Yes, you have done that.” That made him laugh.

“Yeah… it’s because I hate it when you prod me for a confession I can’t give you. And when you say things like ‘it’s pointless to keep on trying’, when my name is in as much of a stake as your title, and when you’ve already done too much to me to just dismiss it like that. I hate being reminded that you only see me as a potential murderer; that you were lying when you said we were friends… And I hate being unable to accept your kindness without thinking you’re playing with me, because I-”

Crap. That was close. He barely managed to bite his tongue before he spurted something dangerous. But L, being L, simply wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. The detective scooted closer –their legs were touching, and they were breathing the same air. Light’s heart fluttered. L’s fingers on his cheek were cold compared to the flushed skin beneath.

“Because?” L whispered, and Light’s gaze fell on his lips, fascinated by their shape, the cadence with which they moved, their invisible, indescribable allure.

Don’t make me say it if you already know. That was what he would have liked to say, but he couldn’t speak. He barely had a moment to process what was happening and take a breath before L closed the distance between them and delicately sealed their lips together.

Light held his breath and sat, static, as his mind was filled with the subtle, tingling sensation of L’s mouth caressing his. That alone was enough to make his heart pound hard against his ribcage. It was a soft kiss; plush, barely more substantial than the brush of a finger. When the man pulled away –only one inch, just enough to end the contact–, their lips separated with a quiet pop.

Light’s whole body was tingling, and he had to forcefully stifle down the urge to tremble that was building steadily in the pit of his stomach. He breathed out, and in, and out; shallowly. He didn’t want to risk inhaling any more of L’s scent.

He should have backed off. Gone back to sleep and pretended that never happened. It would have been wiser. Instead, he remained still and did not oppose L’s movements when the detective cupped his nape and angled his face into another kiss.

It was a deeper one this time, given how their mouths were briefly open. Moisture quickly built up over his upper lip as he felt L’s lower lip seductively pressing against his teeth. Light closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Swiftly, without letting the chance slip by, the man expertly locked their jaws together and entered Light’s warm mouth with his tongue.

A soft gasp that escaped him and coated L’s lips, and then transformed into a barely audible whine. It was inevitable. He couldn’t fight the trembling anymore. He felt feverish all over. Touch-starved and about to burst. His tongue tingled when L’s caressed it, and it filled him with desire and a deep-rooted desperation. He changed his angle to reciprocate the man’s movements, their lips now moving in unison as they sank deeper into each other.

Nobody had ever… not like this. Misa’s kisses weren’t necessarily bad, but they were always messy and indelicate-

L’s free hand began travelling up his thigh, and the spasm that triggered on the muscles of his leg was so powerful Light jolted backwards, and the trance was broken. Out of breath, he searched the detective’s face, and looked away when he realized he could only focus on the blush in his cheeks, the intensity of his gaze and the moist spot on his lower lip.

“Ryuzaki-”

“What’s wrong, Light?”

He bit his lip. L’s voice was still deep, but it was gradually acquiring a sharp edge. Now more than ever, he knew he shouldn’t have allowed that to happen. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What about Misa? Even if she never finds out…”

He shyly searched the man’s face again. L held still for a moment, as he considered his words. Slowly, he seemed to assimilate them. He nodded, and cupped Light’s face again.

“Then… you can hold me accountable for it.” L whispered, and dived back in. That time their mouths locked together even more naturally, and although Light’s whole body was brimming with the urge to give in to the kiss, he still couldn’t brush off the feeling that it was wrong.

Disrespecting Misa, playing with her feelings for him… he wasn’t like that. And the fact that he had to instruct himself to feel guilty about it only brought him self-disgust. He turned his face to the side, and L’s lips slid away from his. The detective didn’t waste over a mere second to understand that this –whatever it was– would not drag any longer.

“Could it be that you were pretending to be interested in me?” He inquired.

Light flinched. His words stung more than he could’ve predicted.

“Do you think I’d do that? You know what, don’t answer. Either way, this… it’s not fair on Misa. I told you I would never use a woman’s feelings to my advantage, so don’t make me betray myself-”

“You don’t love her.” Light gulped. “You don’t even know why you are with her, do you.” L’s gaze grew harder as he went from appreciating Light to analyzing him; a shift Light himself was all too familiar with. “You forgot… together with everything else-”

“That’s enough.” He cut him, his voice coming out firmer than he had expected, and brushed L’s hands off his face. “I’m not about to believe I am a murderer. And Misa isn’t either. I’m not what you think I am, Ryuzaki.”

That being said, Light rolled over and pulled the covers over himself, signaling the end of the conversation. What they just did… it was better off forgotten. As things were now, stubbornly trying to follow that path would only bring pain, regardless of Light turning out to be Kira or not, and regardless of his feelings for Misa and the man. Which didn’t necessarily mean that Light wasn’t already aching over it, but he’d never admit to it.

After a good five minutes of complete stillness, L finally tucked himself in bed, he too giving his back to Light, and before drifting to sleep he murmured:

“If it’s worth something, I really hope you weren’t.”

Yes. The memory of that night’s events, no matter how long gone, was very fresh in their minds. Though, just like the nightmares had been back then, the Light from the present didn’t quite feel that it belonged to him.

When he lost the Death Note… it was crazy. He became a completely different person. It wasn’t just about not remembering being Kira; it reached the point where thinking of what Kira had done revolted him to the core. Then he began questioning himself, doubting his own innocence, and came to realize he could understand his actions to some extent. He used to think the world was rotten before Kira entered the picture, and he still did during the Yotsuba period.

However, the retrieval of the Death Note carved a crack in his moral system he didn’t remember ever sealing. He went back to his old ways, used Misa just like the dangerously volatile tool he had always seen her as. He used everyone, including Rem, a God. Thinking back, it made sense L was suspicious of his most tender side; the Light he was now would have definitely tried to seduce L if he had seen some utility in it.

Kira would have never fallen for the detective.

Even so… what he had felt back then had been real. He did fall for him. And he was given a chance to shatter that burden when he got his memories back –his priority went back to being himself, and L was simply an obstacle–, but this was the first time he let himself think about what could have been, and he found out his feelings weren’t shattered at all.

It still ached.

“Didn’t you do that just to test me?” Light said, accusingly. “You thought I was acting it out, didn’t you. You had to see for yourself how far I’d take it.”

L didn’t kiss him because he felt something for him; he did it to see if he would recoil. In fact, the way he rejected the man in the end was probably interpreted as a positive result.

The ghost didn’t need to answer –Light could see the admission in his face.

“I pretty much confessed to you.” He looked away. That was in the past now. It should have been. L was dead. Then why did he still feel so bitter about it? “And you didn’t even care. You were too busy studying me like a bloody scientist.”

“Can you blame me?” He couldn’t. “Besides, that is not entirely true.”

Confused and untrusting, Light locked eyes with the ghost. L sighed.

“I do admit I didn’t believe it at first –it was too convenient. But I never gave you any hints I was romantically interested in you, and I couldn’t have imagined you were. Therefore, I didn’t understand why you resorted to that method if you just wanted to manipulate me. I began to wonder if it had been for real; but before I could question you further on the subject it was too late. We captured Higuchi, and it didn’t take me long to notice that you… changed.”

Light’s stare landed on his feet. He believed L; he was dead and didn’t need to lie. What if the detective had said something before they cornered Higuchi? It was pointless to dwell on it, since Light was certain he would have killed him in the end. The world needed L to die so Kira could reign. In retrospect, it was a good thing he didn’t, since he allowed Light to move forward with his heart unscathed.

Or so he thought, before all the pain he wasn’t even aware existed inside him through the years came back to bite at him. He hated it. Despising L was easier than this.

“Why are you telling me this?” He bit back, arms crossed as he returned L’s gaze, his ache now obvious in his features. “If I had broken into tears back then and told you I still felt the same way for you, would you have let me go? Would you have risked trusting me? No, you wouldn’t have given me a chance-”

“I did give you a chance. That’s how I know Takada is as good as dead now.”

Light’s eyes widened. He couldn’t mean…

“That time…”

It had been the night after Higuchi’s capture. He had his memories back, and L had, according to the Task Force’s wishes, begrudgingly agreed to dispose of the handcuffs that had bound them together for months. Light was allowed to spend the night in his own room, alone, for the first time in what seemed ages. However, he couldn’t sleep.

It must have been because the excitement at seeing his plan work out perfectly had been too great. Or maybe he had grown used to having someone else lie next to him. His bed seemed huge to the eye and cold to the touch, even though it was the same size as the previous one and both rooms’ thermostats shared the same settings.

He was pacing around aimlessly when he heard a knock on the door. It was L. But Light didn’t get to talk to him, for the man immediately raised his dark eyes to Light’s and determinedly jumped him, pulling him into a ravenous kiss. And before nobody could get in the way, the door was slammed shut and they were in bed.

This could work for my advantage, Light had thought as he gave in without a care for the world. He had wanted it for so long, anyway. In the end, it had been a good way to release pent-up frustrations and unnecessary feelings, and no sweet words or pathetic confessions were exchanged.

“I woke up, alone.” He recalled. “You had gone out to the roof, even though it was pouring. That’s where I found you.”

Right now, Ghost L looked just as sad and decidedly hopeless as he had looked back then. Light could even imagine the rain dripping down his face and dampening him whole in between one blink and the next. Later, at the staircase, L had smiled sadly and said ‘It will be lonely, won’t it? You and I will be parting ways soon’.

He couldn’t have predicted that wouldn’t really ever happen. Still…

“Back then… you already knew you’d die, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” L nodded solemnly.

“But why? I… I gave you my consent. We-”

“Exactly. I knew you disposed of people as soon as you stopped finding them a use. By letting me have you the night before, you were clearly trying to manipulate me. If you had been the same Light I’d been handcuffed to for months –if you had felt strongly enough not to kill me– you would have rejected me. But you didn’t resist or hesitate. Not even when I-”

“Enough.” He breathed. He felt like he was choking. So that was why L had called him a liar back at the roof. The detective had seen right through him… the whole time. But… he was missing a vital piece. A thunder resonated in the distance.

“I invited you to use me. And you did.” L concluded, a small smile forming in his lips without reaching his eyes. The first few droplets began falling.

He had to say it. If he didn’t say it now, he never would.

“Yes, I admit it.” Light lowered his head. The rain grew stronger above him. “I wanted to manipulate you, just as much as you wanted to call me out for it.” Then he raised his chin to look straight into the ghost’s eyes, water rolling down his face as he spoke up. His voice came out broken. “But that’s not all it was, and you know it.”

L’s specter froze, his eyes slowly gaining focus. Light, on the other side, let out a long exhalation. The aching deep in the pit of his stomach didn’t really yield, but shifted. A weight had been lifted; one he couldn’t claim back even if he wanted to.

“Are you saying you truly wanted me?” L breathed out, as if worried that raising his voice would disturb the atmosphere. However, he looked more aghast than hopeful.

“No.” He shook his head, his expression softer. “I’m saying we wanted each other.”

There was silence, and rain. L stood there, petrified as the falling drops trespassed him without disturbing his clothing or his black messy hair. And with every second that he spent with his wide, desperate eyes glued on him, Light’s heart beat faster. Harder.

He had to wait until the man was already dead, but he finally did it.

He finally confessed.

“Won’t you… say something?” He whispered.

L opened his mouth… then closed it. Then opened it again.

“I…” The ghost looked away, and Light realized then how utterly devastated he was. His voice quavered. “I can’t.”

And then he disappeared.

…

Wait.

Why… why couldn’t Light feel him… he was always able to feel him when he vanished, then why?

No.

No… No.

“L…” Nobody answered. “L!!!!!” It was useless.

L wasn’t there. All there was, was silence and rain.

Events continued to develop without further disturbance. He met up with Takada several times –with the Task Force listening, so he didn’t try anything–, and passed his instructions to Mikami. The SPK found out about Mikami and tried to tamper with his Note, so a fake Note was crafted. Everything was going according to plan.

Even Mello’s decision to kidnap Takada, though unexpected, worked out perfectly for him, as he managed to dispatch both of them easily. He had been waiting to see Mello dead since the explosion. As for Takada, he was relieved to take that weight off his back. And he would have actually been able to be a hundred percent remorseless about it had he not remembered his conversation with a certain deceased someone.

As for L… he didn’t return. No matter what Light did or how awful he became, L didn’t manifest, talk inside his head, or give any other signal whatsoever of still existing. And Light had expected it to hurt… maybe he wanted to feel hurt. But he was too empty to feel nothing other than rage, and greed. All that occupied his mind was Near, and their encounter at the warehouse. He was too busy with conquering the world to feel lonely.

Still, some nights he’d surprise himself yelling at the top of his lungs at a soul that no longer tailed him. He’d yell stuff like ‘Aren’t you going to show yourself?!’. There never was an answer.

Then the day came. Mikami did his job perfectly, so much so Light physically struggled to avoid bursting into laughter ahead of time. And right when he was feeling giddy with victory, desperate to rub his success in Near’s juvenile face as the boy’s heart failed… everything was gone. It slipped from between his fingers as easily as the seconds ticked away in his watch.

He didn’t go down without a fight. First, he desperately attempted to accuse the SPK of framing him, and when that didn’t work, he used the truth. The mask he had carefully crafted crumpled. In a feverish, delusional moment of revelation that lacked little to reach hysteria, he gave the greatest speech of his whole life; he shared with them the legacy he had tried to leave behind, hoping they would understand. Even so, Near still called him a crazy serial killer, nothing more, and nothing less.

He had his watch with a piece of the Note inside, but he could have never calculated that Matsuda would shoot him; repeatedly. When he fell to a puddle on the floor and Matsuda stood over him, tears streaking down his betrayed face as he glared and aimed his gun at his head… Light realized how badly he had screwed up.

He could have died. That man could have killed him in a mere instant. Even through the multiple layers of tortuous pain his fresh bullet wounds were inflicting on him, he only had the mental capacity to process that gut-deep, swiping fear.

He called for Mikami… but the man was of no use. So he simply lay there in his puddle as it changed its color from transparent to red. He gasped for air, and cried out.

“Where are you, Misa?!” He had used her, and left her at home, deprived of her memories. “Where’s Takada?!” He had killed her. His actions finally settled fully on him, and tears swelled at the corners of his eyes.

Someone… w-what do I do n-now…

…

L…

Mikami stabbed himself, and Light wasn’t about to grow out of old habits. He used his follower one last time, to crawl to his feet and escape while everybody else focused on the bloodshed.

He ran. As fast as he could, with his body bent over in pain and his injured arm hanging like dead weight by his side. Every step was excruciating to take, and every gasping breath was more difficult to inhale than the one that preceded it, but he didn’t stop. He knew his legs would give in soon. The blood loss was taking an exponential toll on his body. He kept on running, even though it was futile.

Every decision he had made up to that point, only now he could see how they had stuck to him like parasites. He had been rotting away ever since he picked the Note. Ryuk… had been right. In Kira’s crimeless world… the only rotten apple left was him.

However, if he had been given the chance to go back to being that seventeen-year-old, naïve boy he once was, he wouldn’t have taken it.

His running slowed down to walking; he had lost Aizawa and the rest long ago. By the time he reached the abandoned building, he could hardly stay on his feet. He sprawled himself on the stairs… and then he felt it.

It coated over him. It felt like coming back home after what seemed forever.

Hello, Light.

Tears overflowed his eyes. He could have never imagined that his voice would bring him such intense joy.

“L…” he whimpered. “Y-You’re back-”

The specter materialized before him… weird. He looked more corporeal than he ever had before. Or was it just that Light had forgotten how he had looked after so long? There was some sort of ethereal blue aura around him, though, which hadn’t been there before. And he was smiling… fondly.

“You don’t look too well.”

Light laughed, which made him cough and wince in pain.

“Missed you too?” He retorted sarcastically, and it lacked most of its usual bite. Everything, even just raising his head to look L in the eyes, felt awful, but he did it all the same. “I thought… you were gone for good.”

“And give you the pleasure?” The detective grinned, his eyes gleaming. “Never.”

“Good.” He replied, relaxing and smiling at last.

It was at that moment that his heart hammered through his chest… once. Burning pain irradiated in all directions from there. He felt the tingle taking over every inch of his body as his vision blurred and his focus faded.

“W-What…” The pain, suddenly, stopped. All at once. He jerked to his feet, utterly confused, only to realize he didn’t feel the pressure of a floor beneath his feet anymore. L was staring at him wide-eyed. Whatever he saw had him flabbergasted. Light looked over his shoulder… at his own limp body, lying on the stairs and with no soul in its eyes. And he understood. “Ryuk…”

He shook at the incorporeal sound of his own voice.

“That makes two of us, I guess.” L mused, walking over to face him. “Welcome to the realm of the dead, Light.”

“I’m…” He stood still, having a hard time processing it. Then, slowly… a sparkling sensation in his stomach bubbled up, and he giggled. The smile he gave to L was radiant, as he reached out to him.

And as if things couldn’t get any more amazing, when his inexistent fingers landed on the man’s chest… there was resistance to oppose them. Solid, and warm.

“L!” He beamed, patting the other repeatedly. “I can touch you… I’m touching you!”

“Yes. Yes you are.” L confirmed, laughing too. He was bedazzled. “I feel you…”

The moment after, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, laughing. It shouldn’t have felt this real, but it did. Light could even perceive a hint of L’s scent when he dug his face into raven hair.

“You’re here…” He squeezed harder. “What happened? Why did you disappear? Where did you go?”

“I was always here. I was just in such conflict with myself I couldn’t reach out to you.” The man murmured against his shoulder. “I get it now… this was my mission all along. I was supposed to be here, to welcome you when you passed away. Everything makes sense now…”

Light pulled away. He needed to look L in the eyes.

“So, a moment ago…” He hesitated for a moment that didn’t last too long. “When you spoke to me. Was I able to hear you because I was agonizing, or-”

“I don’t think that’s the reason.” L shook his head, and smiled. “I finally found an answer to my conflict. To my feelings for you.”

Light blinked, finally understanding. He didn’t think he’d be able to feel butterflies in his stomach given how he no longer had internal organs, but he did.

“What I said that time…”

“You wrecked me.” L joked, and cupped Light’s face in his hands. When their eyes locked, his were full of devotion. “But you were right. I shouldn’t have, you were a mass murderer not to mention my nemesis, but I did want you. More than you can imagine.”

Light reached up, to fondly caress L’s knuckles.

“L, I loved you.” He swallowed, and leaned into the warm touch. “I… still do. Even after everything.”

“Me too.” The man whispered back, and for the first time, Light heard him go weak.“Even after everything.”

He grabbed him by the collar and locked their lips together. He melted into the kiss, trembling feverishly. He had missed this sensation so much he could barely stand it. The plush, wet and enticing brush of their lips soon grew hungrier, starving, even though they were both smiling into it. And it felt, both literally and metaphorically, more real than any other touch they had ever shared, dead or alive.

Then, they slowly began crumbling away. The kiss was broken as they both stared down. It began at their feet –they were dissolving into iridescent specs of dust that caught the light, and then into nothing. Gradually, it crawled up their shins, reaching their knees, and thighs.

But it wasn’t painful, or scary. Neither of them was scared. It was very peaceful. But just in case he didn’t get another chance, Light pressed every part of him that remained to L’s shape.

“L…” He breathed against the man’s mouth. “Are… are you even real? Or have you just been a product of my imagination all this time?”

L looked puzzled for a moment, but then he simply smiled.

“Does it even matter at this point?”

Light looked him in the eyes, as their torsos began to fade, and felt it deep within himself. He took L’s face in his hands, even though the tips of his fingers were disappearing too.

“No.” He concluded, and leaned in for one last loving kiss which L reciprocated.

And after that, nothing.

#Death Note #L Lawliet #fanfiction #submission #jamknife #misasbiggestfan #ratings: mature #L #Light Yagami #lawlight #B's Bitchin Borthday 2k19

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prorevkiss · 5 years

Text

Nighttime in Zone 3 - Secret Santa for Ferris @iggyvoid !!

The Girl gets taken. The Killjoys are each shaken up about it in their own little way.

warnings: cursing

notes: dude i am so sorry that this is so late, long story short ive had this written in my notebook for like a month now but i moved 30 minutes out into the country where i have no internet signal lolz

------

It was nighttime in Zone 3. Actually, I don't know why I said that. It was nighttime in all of the Zones. I suppose nighttime is different in Zone 3, the stars seemed to shine a little brighter and on some nights killjoys claimed to see a green moon.

The air smelled a bit like gunpowder and the body bags rolled in, whether taken by dead or simply sleeping. That was the trick of it, the dead bodies blended in so well with the simply sleeping ones that the Dracs could never tell the difference.

The four joys sat in or atop their car, all distressed in their own little way. The Girl had been taken that afternoon and none of them had a completely sure idea where she was or what was going to happen to her.

Jet Star was seated in the driver's seat, fingers tap tap tapping against the banged up steering wheel. His anxiety was through the roof and he wasn't planning on sleeping for the rest of the year.

Ghoul's eyes were red from crying, but if you repeat that, he'll kill you and everyone you love. Tears made tracks in the desert dust on his face and the wave of emotion made him completely and utterly exhausted.

Kobra...well, it should be a well-known fact by now that he knows two emotions: euphoria and rage. Kicking up dirt over and over, his mind was so clouded with anger that he didn't know he was beginning to tear a hole in his boot.

Party had shut down completely. Their eyes stared in the same place they had stared in for the past four hours. They wouldn't speak to anyone.

Kobra paced in front of his sibling, step step step, step step step, so on and so forth. He shook with rage until he turned to Party and said stiffly, "Shut. Up."

Jet looked at Kobra confusedly. "They didn't...say...anything."

Kobra sneered. “Sure they didn’t! That’s the whole thing.”

“What?” replied Jet.

“They should be-!” Kobra sputtered. “They should be fucking remorseful! It’s their fucking fault! They were the one who wanted to stick behind at the spot! If we hadn’t stayed behind this never would’ve happened!”

Party continued to stare forward, but their lips moved a tiny bit to let out a very small noise.

“I’m sorry.”

Kobra instantly deflated.

Party let out a shaky and painful sigh before climbing off the hood of the car. Avoidance was one thing Party Poison was very good at.

They walked and walked until the headlights of the Trans Am blended in with the stars in the night sky. In the other direction, they heard music through the dreary silence of the desert.

A killjoy hangout. There were some in the zones, the amount falling somewhere in between few and many. This one wasn’t one of the more known ones, like the Nest, because Party wasn’t extremely familiar with it.

As soon as they walked in, almost all of the killjoys recognized them. Some tried to say hi, but they pushed right past.

This hangout was probably a house from before the Analog Wars, like most of the buildings in the zones were. Party walked into an open bedroom and spotted a walk-in closet. They had always dreamed of having one like this, but they didn’t think of that at that very moment. All they simply did was sit under a shelf and stare forward, letting things storm within.

------

As Party left eye and earshot, Ghoul wiped his eyes and scoffed. After leaping out of the backseat of the car, he nodded at Kobra angrily. “Nice going, man.”

He took off in the direction Party had gone.

Ghoul began to see commotion through the desert loneliness. A joy hangout.

He walked through the building. Some unnamed punk song was playing through a boombox. Only places like these had them.

He didn’t expect to see Poison in the crowded part of the hangout. He knew his partner wouldn’t go out and party when they were upset, despite their name.

He poked his head through the doorframe of an open bedroom. He would rather not have had to look in a bedroom. If the door was shut he definitely wouldn’t have.

The lights were off, but he saw a reflection of the hall lights in some sort of glossy blue fabric in the closet. Ah, he thought.

He turned on the closet light and sure enough, there was Party Poison. He sat next to them and laid his head on their shoulder. This is usually what one did when the other was upset. No words, just physical reassurance.

One word did end up escaping Ghoul’s lips: “Breathe.”

And Party did. They took a deep breath for the first time in probably months. And with that breath came a catch in their throat. Soon after came tears from their eyes.

A duration of events meant those small tears led to full sobs. Their body shook and they kept repeating two words: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Ghoul held Party’s face and whispered to them. “Sh...”

Those sobs turned back into small tears, which were soon kissed away from their face by their boyfriend.

“We’ll get her back.” Ghoul reassured gently.

“Are you sure?” Party sighed.

“I have a feeling,” Ghoul said. “I’ve never had a wrong feeling.”

Party breathed shakily. “If- when we get her back, how do I tell her it was my fault? What if she already knows it was my fault? How do I get her to forgive me?”

“Hey,” Ghoul replied, concerned. “It was nobody’s fault except for Korse and those Dracs. And listen, your brother gets irrational sometimes. I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said.”

“The irrational part I know for sure.” Party laughed. “But...if it weren’t for me, we would’ve been gone by the time they got there.”

“Baby, how could you have known something like that would happen? It was a huge unfortunate coincidence. And how do you know they wouldn’t have found us at the next place, or the next? There’s no way to tell the future.”

“I guess you’re right.” Party still couldn’t quite look Ghoul in the eyes.

“I know you feel guilty. All of us do. Even Kobra does. But be logical. Know it wasn’t your fault.”

Party leaned over and kissed Ghoul softly before returning to where they were sitting.

A short while after that, the two heard the voices of their companions through the thin walls of the room. They weren’t quite sure what Kobra was saying, but soon enough, the other two entered the closet door.

Kobra sat next to his sibling. He fiddled with his hands and couldn’t really look up at Party’s face. “Man, I’m...I’m, uh, really sorry. I was, like, really mad and I think I needed someone to blame so it would, like, make sense? Um...It really wasn’t your fault and I’m- again, I’m really sorry, I-”

Party engulfed him in a hug.

“You’re rambling.” they mumbled into his shoulder.

“I know.” He laughed.

The four of them walked out of the hangout and all sat against the Trans Am and began looking at the stars.

Nighttime in Zone 3 was different. There was something weirdly comforting about a green moon.

#danger days #killjoys #ttlotfk

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cheesy-che · 5 years

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TMNT Secret Santa for Tunasammich

~ One shot about Michelangelo, 2k3 TMNT ~ Note : I hope you like it ;3; It’s not much, but I feel like Mikey could help us all understand something very important for Christmas. Enjoy! <3

Michelangelo was setting up decorations in the kitchen. His handmade snowflake garland added a fire hazard in the room, according to Donnie, but that didn’t stop him from pinning it on the ceiling; this time slightly higher so it would be acceptable. His brother was not the type to be such a killjoy during the holidays, but there they were. Recently, every member of this family has been letting their feelings take a hold of them… except him. He was simply refusing too. Michelangelo would not have thought he would be the last turtle happily standing in these hard times. He never imagined a situation where he would be the strongest, and “happily” seemed like a strong use of words.

They almost lost their father in their recent battle. Raph has been training non-stop for the past three days, telling himself it wouldn’t have happened if he had been stronger. Donatello was also blaming himself for different reasons. Supposedly, he could’ve predicted their attack if the security system on their truck didn’t abruptly fail. Of course, he was blaming it all on his work. Leonardo was spending hours in Splinter’s room changing his bandages and taking care of him. Even if their father had told them all repeatedly that it was nobody’s fault, the blue masked turtle kept asking him if his decisions was the reason of their failures. Every time Leonardo had tea with Splinter, his father ended their conversation by telling him to let it go. The older turtle would simply nod, then go hide in his room for hours.

It’s not that Michelangelo wasn’t feeling guilty; just that he has been easier on himself than his brothers, apparently. He felt awful, in distress, remorseful even, but that didn’t stop him from rationalizing that nobody could have predicted what happened. He wasn’t the type to burry his bad feelings and hope they would magically disappear… but these days, he mostly wanted Christmas to be the center of his thoughts. No, he wanted Christmas to be the center of everyone’s thoughts. He knew he could make them forget about this incident, but how? No matter how many decorations he was installing all around the lair, no matter how much he smiled every time he was addressing his brothers, no matter the joyful music he would put on; they wouldn’t budge. However, Mikey was sure of himself. Today, on December 23rd, he was convinced he was right about wanting to clear the air. He just knew he had to, being the most energetic and determined right now.

The next morning, he woke up earlier than everyone. He entered Master Splinter’s room and kindly woke him up to change his bandages. Upon questioning, Michelangelo simply preferred to say he wanted to give Leo a break.

“Erh, well… not that I would qualify this as a task, sensei.”

“I know,” the rat answered kindly. “What are you doing up so early?”

Michelangelo shrugged before smiling.

“You’ll see!”

He made him a nice cup of tea and sneaked into the kitchen. He texted April, informing her of his plan. He looked up on the internet for every recipe he could find that would qualify as “comfort food” on his T-Phone. He started with a loaf of banana bread, and then proceeded with a homemade omelet and some muffins. Two hours passed and he had managed to make a decent feast for his family. Yes, Christmas celebrations wouldn’t start until later, but he wanted to surprise them. April arrived around 8 in the morning with a pie and helped him do the dishes. It’s probably the small clattering provoked by the latter that woke up Donatello first.

“Why so early, Mikey?” he inquired while going down the stairs.

As he saw April helping his brother, Donnie slightly tilted his head on the side, still waking up. She smiled at him and said nothing, not wanting to spoil Michelangelo’s surprise.

“I’ll tell you when everybody’s up,” mentioned Mikey.

“Well, I sure am up now…” indicated a voice from upstairs. “Good morning April”.

Leonardo was looking at them with a rather serious face. As he got closer, the wonderful smell of food didn’t seem to affect him that much.

“What are you doing?” he said, crossing his arms on his chest. “I don’t know if you invited other people, considering the amount of food, but we have more important stuff to do than cooking. “Oh, please don’t take any offense, April. It’s just… we have other things to take care of.”

She shrugged, a bit sad to realize how this whole thing was going completely over his head. Because she didn’t want to argue, she simply sighed, ignoring the last part of what he had said.

“I know Leo,” retorted Michelangelo, “but surely it can wait! Don’t you know which date we are?”

“December twenty-fourth.” Leo said in a stiff remark.

“Exactly!”

“Mikey, we don’t have time for this.”

“What? Since when, dude?”

Leonardo let out a more aggressive sigh than he would have thought. Either his little brother was trying to play dumb; either he was too tired himself to deal with this so early.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Leo insisted, “for the past three days, Donatello is following the foot with his scanner. They always come close to the lair...too close. They’re looking for us, Mikey. We should be on our guards.”

“Hum, well…” Donnie murmured. “I’m pretty sure they can’t-“

“You think I don’t know that!?” Mikey argued, almost ignoring Donatello.

He realized his tone went just a note too high, but he couldn’t stop there. Michelangelo took a deep breath before continuing. He put the dishcloth on the counter while approaching his brother.

“I just want us to enjoy Christmas… I can’t believe I’m the only one doing this right now.”

Leo sighed, again.

“Listen, Mikey… it’s not that I don’t want to-”

“It’s exactly that!” He cut him quickly. “Why can’t you just focus on what we have… what we still have, instead of focusing on what we could lose all the time!?”

They were interrupted by a door sliding swiftly, the echo resonating on the walls. Master Splinter walked out of his room, Donatello hurrying in his direction to help him face the two small steps in front of him. Everyone became immediately silent after this… and April felt so out of place right now.

“Hey, what’s with all the racket?” exclaimed Raphael from upstairs.

Nobody answered, which made him eventually jump down from the second floor. He couldn’t understand why no one wanted to answer. His eyebrows lifted up when he noticed his father weakly approaching them.

“Good morning April,” the old rat smiled.

She hesitantly waved in his direction. He was always so good at being ambiguous with his intentions. He casually sat at the kitchen table that has been set up and asked Michelangelo for a glass of orange juice. Confusion was the main visible emotion on everyone’s faces. They kind of followed Mikey at the table while he was bringing what his father asked for.

“Sit with me for a minute, would you?” Splinter asked.

“Uh, me?” Michelangelo inquired.

“All of you”

They did so immediately. Splinter drank a mouthful of orange juice and took the time finish it before actually mentioning where he was going with this demand.

“I think that you should all learn a thing or two from Michelangelo today.”

The involved turtle showed a surprised expression.

“That’d be a first,” mocked Raphael

April took the liberty of nudging his shoulder.

“He said something quite interesting,” continued Master Splinter. “Focusing on what you have. That is a very important part of life. We have a beautiful family, delicious food, and a good home.”

“Yeah, about that…” mentioned Donatello. “I tried to tell you guys that I have recent records of The Foot being on the complete opposite of Manhattan right now.”

After a few minutes of calm discussion, it seemed the three of his brothers owed at least a small apology to Michelangelo. They didn’t usually talked so openly about how they felt, but it was obvious that they all shared a common worry for their father. The fact that Master Splinter reminded them of the importance of enjoying this moment surely helped them too.

“I just wanted everyone to feel good about… just being here,” Mikey declared. “to be happy we’re…alive… altogether. I feel like we don’t give enough importance to this.”

A wave of happiness found its way to everyone’s mouth, their father putting his hand on Michelangelo’s shoulder.

“That is very wise, my son.”

Mikey noticed they were all paying a lot of attention to him, which provoked a small rush of bloods to his cheeks.

“I love you guys…”

#tmnt #2k3 #one shot #michelangelo #tmnt secret santa #teenage mutant ninja turtles #it's UUUHH more depressing than I thought hrfdgjheg however I did my best during this HELLA busy season #;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;#writing

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flabwahn-blog1 · 5 years

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I’m starting a blog for me. I don’t actually want anybody to read it I just need somewhere to dump because I can’t afford counselling and my support system is just non existent. Since my 25th birthday I came to this horrible realisation that my support system (barely if any) was a complete fraud and I watched it crumble before me leaving me feeling like I have wasted the last 10 years on people who have no respect for me whatsoever.

I am one of 6 children with a broad range of personalities. The eldest Michael, is hardworking, has never touched drugs or cigarettes, rarely drinks and lives with his wife and has been with her for over 10 years and for this I am so proud of him. He has achieved the most considering he was dyslexic and has been called thick his whole life with people constantly reminding him he could never achieved anything. Now, he is above and beyond all of us by leaps and bounds. However, he has realised this and sits very highly on a pedestal. In his eyes, he cannot do any wrong because of the stark difference between him and the rest of us siblings. The result of this, he has the absolute incapability to apologise, recognise his flaws or acknowledge he can upset anybody because he feels so strongly about his opinions, which isn’t a bad thing but it causes huge grudges within the family. When he has a thought in his head - a mild assumption - he believes it too be true, This is turn results in this thought becoming verbal, and he has no hesitation in telling all family members this thought as if it’s the truth and he really does believe it himself. I picked my nose in his car, and he thinks I had been sniffing cocaine. Rather than discuss this with me, he told the whole family this was the truth when it wasn’t. Now we don’t talk, because I wanted an apology. This may seem very high and mighty, which I understand. But when we upset him he refuses to speak to anybody unless we apologise and kiss the ground he walks on. So without an apology, I will not entertain the relationship anymore. I was so hurt, and as I am getting older I am beginning to realise that you may be my brother, but that doesn’t mean anything. If someone in the street did this to me, I wouldn’t accept it. Having the title of brother means nothing, it doesn’t give any right to treat or accuse me like this. So that’s the first relationship that died for me. Michael was my favourite brother, I always admired his honesty and his big heart. I miss him so much, but my stubbornness won’t falter right now because I’ve always been a doormat, and now I have stood up to him our relationship has gone.

My brother Craig, the second eldest is again a hard working man, he has respect for women and in recent years I have noticed how good he can be. Me and him are very similar where as we feel like the black sheep of the family. I can’t relate to him though, his experiences have been more horrendous than mine and I would never say I can imagine how he felt because that would be an insult to him. As the black sheep growing up, he was subjected to bullying day in and day out from members of his own family, his support system and his own parents. I am ashamed to admit at times I was involved and is probably one of my biggest regrets considering the place I am in at the moment with my family. If you ever see this Craig, know I am sorry from the very bottom of my heart. You are a good man and you didn’t deserve what happened to you. But to see you achieve now with your skating, your beautiful girlfriend and home, I know you’re so much stronger now and I am so proud of you. Out of us 6, you probably are the most empathetic brother I have, you listen to me and don’t make it a competition of who has had it worse or try to invalidate anything I have felt. You are a good ear and the rest of this family doesn’t see you for what you are, because you detached yourself from us all, and I don’t blame you. Sometimes you think you know it all, but you’re just you. I accept it when we chat, but I know it’s you demonstrating that you only have my best interests at heart.

Then it’s Paul. I don’t think I have ever come across anybody in the street like Paul. But then again if I did, I wouldn’t see that side I see with Paul with anybody else because I don’t live with them. Hate is a strong word, and believe me when I say I hate him. I know he is my brother but again this is just a title. This doesn’t mean I have to like him or love him. In his world, Paul is number one and nobody will ever come first not even his own children which just baffles me. He is a bully, he shouts and shouts when you try to confront him about just about anything because he knows he will win. To a point where he knows this, and knows no one can be bothered or have the guts to confront him anymore because of his reactions and he abuses this. Not many people can bring the worst out in me but he does each and every time and I am so ashamed he can do this to me. My dad works long hours and hard days, he has no issues with waking him up every morning whether its making a cup of tea, blowing his nose (he has a cocaine problem and if anyone knows a cocaine addict blowing their nose it’s not quiet) or just moving around. And he generally believes it does not matter because he needs to do those things and does not care about any consequence, he is completely incapable of recognising he has the ability to upset people, acknowledge it or even show any remorse for it. I moved back home a month ago, and my only lay in is on Saturdays. He wakes me up around 6am every single weekend without fail. I came home from an 18 hour shift, and the dog had wet herself indoors. I came indoors and trod in it, and noticed footprints around the whole home from him where he’d seen in, walked in it and ignored it and my heart just broke. I looked at that pile of wee, and knew exactly what he thought of me and that is a maid. His opinions of women are very outdated in the sense we have a place in the home and he would not dare lift a finger because that’s not his job. And that’s how he sees me, just a maid who belongs at home and couldn’t even take 5 minutes to clean it up because he felt it was my job. It broke my heart my own brother thinks so little of me, I can’t grasp it. He has the complete inability to even clean up after himself unless it benefits him directly such as his own bedroom. He refuses to wash up because he strongly feels that is my job and makes no hesitation to remind me that this is my job not his. Whenever he gets a girlfriend I feel so sorry for them because all they do is blame themselves for his actions when they don’t realise he has always been the same. He was bullied when he was younger massively, and in turn this made him into a bully. He is so scared about being the victim again he makes damn sure that everyone around him knows hes the alpha male to make sure this never happens again to him. The lack of respect for everyone around him just baffles me again. I would happily never ever speak to him again or see him again, and if he dropped off of this planet I would feel no remorse or grief. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I am only human.

Then there’s Jack. Jack is a wonderful person, the biggest heart and genuinely cares for anyone he loves. I have never met anybody that dislikes him because he makes you feel so valued and that you matter. Jack has empathy, sympathy and knows how to make you laugh and diffuse the situation. But this side of him I rarely see anymore, because he has a serious and big problem with cocaine. I lost the Jack I loved because of that drug, watching the mood swings, the thieving, to come second to the drug itself broke my heart. But I knew he needed help and because of how he was I knew he deserved the help and did everything in my power to give it to him. I tried to build his self-esteem, his self-worth and his confidence. But time after time over the last 8 years, he has stolen from me, degraded me, abused me and more. He doesn’t work and hasn't done so consistently for the last 5 years. I took him to get his haircut every month to give him some self worth, we went to dinner every week, everything I ever had I shared with him because I knew he had nothing and I didn’t want him to go without. I shared my cigarettes, my weed, my soul, my paycheck with him in a desperate attempt for him to realise he could have those things himself and to try and give him confidence to know he deserves more than what he is currently doing. But on my birthday we had an argument, only petty for throwing rubbish out of my car and I told him off - he sent me multiple voice notes telling me he hates me, I’m a slag, I mean nothing to him etc. After spending so many years doing what I did, hearing that made me snap and I gave up. I feel guilty every single day worrying where he is, what he’s doing, if he’s safe. But I realised at some point I had to come first for me, because I knew I would never come first in his world only the drugs. I keep a picture of him with me all the time, but I know I am waiting for the day when I get a call telling me he didn’t make it. Because I know before he’s 30 this will kill him. But I can’t sacrifice myself anymore for him, it was destroying me.

I can’t finish this tonight. I’ll finish this tomorrow. I need somewhere to put my story.

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realitachifacts · 6 years

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HCs about Itachi and his dreams, nightmares, sleeping habits and alternate states of consciousness. Does he get insomnia? Anything about parasomnia? Maybe a brief writing about it.

okay i just finished this and wtf it ended up being so long. i am not editing the story so if there are typos or anything sucks to suck for me.

headcanon time! i’m really excited for this one not gonna lie.

itachi has nightmares. many of them. this… makes sense, really, considering traumatic experiences induce vivid nightmares and, actually, blind people have more nightmares (though the difference is much slighter that that of the average person if you become blind later in life).

i’m gonna get into the blindness first before i get into the nightmares. some of this is probably going to be scientifically inaccurate, but i mean… this is an anime headcanon.

the more his blindness progressed, the less visual the dreams became, focusing more on sensory experiences; at the same time, the imagery incorporated became more “familiar territory”, by which i mean the elements involved show up in a way he’d been familiar with for a longer experience of time. i guess the best example would be, before the final showdown, he’d seen sasuke once, at around age thirteen. the last few times he was able to see even anything in dreams, one of the few visuals that remained was his family, at the age he killed them; despite not seeing them in years, playing solely off of the most prominent memories.

as he began to see less and less in general, before blacked-out dreams, the more the things less important to him would fade away, out of sight.

as far as dreams go, it’s likely he had very few positive ones while in the akatsuki. i’d imagine more of them came when he could no longer see, but it was still painful, to hear the voices of loved ones and not be able to look into their faces again in the only way you can, knowing you have only a few months left to live.

now onto the nightmares.

more or less as an interesting concept alone, but for the majority of his life, itachi never had nightmares. stress at night manifested solely through insomnia rather than having bad dreams. since he’s a ninja, i would imagine learning to remain composed is sort of an essential asset of the job, and he was probably taught how to do this, so he could at least force himself into sleep, even if he woke up several times or barely felt rested in the morning.

he’s had dreams though, but that’s never been something all that significant to him; i don’t think any of them have been super good dreams.

[ okay just note that i haven’t gotten to the shisui death scene yet i just know that it happens and that’s about it so i’m probably interpreting some stuff wrong ]

but when that happened he couldn’t sleep for 10 full days until he passed out from sleep deprivation.

the first time he had a nightmare was the first time he was able to sleep after killing his clan.

okay actually that’s cool i’m gonna write something with that. ugh OP… your mind…

obviously the nightmares were trauma-based. he had them up until his death, but the further away from the time the event occurred, the more abstract elements worked their way into the dream. he still had the dreams after he lost sight in his dreams, and he felt a bit guilty about it, but he was grateful he didn’t have to look at the eyes and faces of his clan members as he killed them.

for a while after the sasuke encounter during part I, sasuke played a more prominent part in his nightmares, for a good while.

the majority of the nightmares involve bad things happening to sasuke, or him killing his clan, or havoc in the leaf village, since i doubt anything harm that could come upon itachi scares him as much as the thought of those three things.

i imagine both dreams and nightmares are very vivid for itachi, being an observing/calculating/analytical individual he takes in more and has more to process.

as far as parasomnias go, dream-enacting behavior might’ve happened once or twice but i can’t imagine much beyond that.

as for sleeping habits, probably just mindfulness exercises before sleeping, because being someone introspective and having done/been through terrible things you feel guilty about that giving yourself time to think before you sleep is probably not the best of ideas ever.

with worsening depression/illness, itachi’s wanting to just sleep all the time probably amplified. it’s particularly hard, knowing that after closing your eyes the misery will continue or even worsen.

as for altered states of consciousness, i have a personal headcanon that using genjutsu efficiently requires a calm/collected/well cared for mind, otherwise you might not be able to control or even, worst case scenario when you’ve totally lost your marbles, get trapped in your own genjutsu. so i would assume something like meditation/mind training in some way would help you maintain that.

i think that covers everything?

now for a story.

Itachi Uchiha has never had a nightmare before in his life.

“Why?!”

He doesn’t need to.

“W-Why would you do this?!”

He’s living one.

Itachi talks about wanting to prove his vessel.

Doesn’t mean a single word of it.

… , …

He spends the rest of the night running, getting away and putting as much distance between himself and the Hidden Leaf Village as is completely possible, and in his head the moment plays over and over and over, but it doesn’t feel real, he’s existing in this dreamlike state, as if he’s repeatedly reading some page of a book because his eyes are blurred, unfocused.

He appears calm, at least, he thinks, as he stops running; the one area falling short of perfection in his academy exams was stamina, but a fighting style rooted primarily in genjutsu more than makes up for that missing proficiency. He has… a lot of emotions to process, really, it’s foreign territory when the majority of his emotional responses have a tendency towards being at least moderately underwhelming. This whole endeavor, every part of it, it’s been so stressful, so painful, deep hurt powerful enough that it manifests physically in his body, chest bleeding with.

Sadness.

Loss.

Loneliness.

Remorse.

He wonders if he should feel remorse, or at least, if remorse is logically applicable here. He was doing this to save the village, it would have happened either way, but at least this way Sasuke his safe, holding that sword with the metal drinking in and shining out the colors of moonlight, silver gleam broken by patches of slightly rusted crimson, red like roses lovers give to each other; blood of his ancestors and uncles and aunts and cousins and his parents and. And anyways. His little brother would’ve died, if it had been anyone but him. His clan was going to stage a coup, start a war, the death toll would’ve been worse, so many of the Uchihas would’ve died in it anyways, at least he put them out of their misery fast, and-

These are rationalizations.

Itachi knows this.

But he saved the village, he thinks.

It was going to happen anyways.

Sasuke will grow stronger, Itachi will ensure it, kill him and paint the clan name in new colors; clean off the bloodstained sins Itachi left on his blade. Sasuke will go back to the village a hero, Itachi thinks. Find happiness and acceptance, slaughterer of his criminal brother, sociopathic mass-murderer, heart and soul black as the eyes of crows.

Itachi is orchestrating his own divine justice. Playing as a deity in order to be purged by an angel of his own creation.

… , …

He’s sitting underneath a pine tree, long bark-wrinkled branches with needle fingers hang lazily from its sides. It’s still night, but in a few hours, it’ll be dawn, Itachi’s internal clock estimates. Still, the sky above him is as dark as a scorpion’s carapace, white stars speckled across like the shine on its shell. By now the world up above the deciduous forest is moonless, clouds consume it like parasites. It’s not that cold, or it could be colder, but maybe Itachi’s body is just numb from.

Everything.

Anyways, he’s exhausted. Doesn’t know where he’ll go from here. Thirteen-year-old self too life-drained to carry on much further. He lays down on a bed of pine needles, rough against his back, stinging in minutely; closes his eyes.

He thinks sleep won’t come easily.

He’s wrong.

But Itachi promises himself one thing before he fades down into unconsciousness.

If he can, he never wants to kill anyone, ever again.

… , …

Itachi is in the Uchiha compound, night’s almost fallen, the sky is painted indigo from the tail ends of dusk.

Many battles ensue.

Itachi wins all of them

His parents sit next to each other, in their room, side by side, execution style.

They talk about some things.

Itachi kills them.

Sasuke is crying.

If you want to defeat me, you need these eyes, Itachi says.

He’s already mentioned that he never cared about him, this whole time.

There’s nobody else in the world Itachi could ever care about more.

… , ��

Itachi wakes up with tears heavy in his eyes, breathing hard, the milky pink of dawn has managed to claw its way into the sky and the first breaths of light whisper down between leaves and what was that.

Rationally, Itachi knows it’s a nightmare, but his heart is still fast and his breathing is a bit sped up and his eyes are wide, less characteristic emotional expression (though the normal tends to be majorly apathy, with any other responses muted partially).

He’s.

He’s never had one of these before.

It felt so real, and his dreams, they’ve always been vivid, mainly processing stressors or other events that provoked a more intense response from him; he’s never needed to analyze them, because his sleeping mind still holds hands with reality, and so now, this, this reliving it, as it happened, had to look into his relatives’ death-fearing eyes, had to act on notions antithetic to his moral code of pacifism, had to murder so many people.

Itachi shakes his head, tries not to dwell on it for too long.

He has a life he needs to figure out what to do with, until its preordained end.

… , …

He has that dream many, many more times.

It doesn’t get better, any of them.

… , …

Itachi is already halfway out of one of the two beds he’s rented at the inn, soft and luxurious and feather down mattress, as Kisame begins to speak. Asks Itachi if it’s another nightmare.

Itachi says nothing. The yes is unspoken.

Kisame asks Itachi if it’s the same one.

“Partially.” Itachi says. “Though devoid of all visual imagery.”

Kisame makes a jest, something along the lines of ‘finally, huh’? Itachi finds it non-offensive. He’s trying to be supportive, lighten the situation. Itachi doesn’t laugh at much anything, anymore. Kisame still tries.

“It’s been this way for some time, actually.” I just never wanted to talk about it.

He’s going to sit outside, take some space, as he does. This is a regular occurrence. Kisame tells him to come back soon.

… , …

Itachi comes back after around thirty minutes. Kisame is still awake, likely awaiting his safe return. It’s considerate.

He reminds Itachi that they’ll be at the Uchiha Hideout soon.

Itachi wouldn’t have forgotten ever. The scene of the final showdown, holy retribution, smite by the angelic.

… , …

This is Itachi’s last night alive.

He hopes the night is dreamless.

… , …

It isn’t.

But actually, in a good way.

… , …

Itachi is practicing shurikenjutsu, he’s around thirteen, sort of, leaps into the air in cat smooth motions, the throwing stars bounce off of each other and white shines across the metal. It’s warm and summery and the rare breaths of wind are hot, comforting almost. The trees are painted golden at the edges by sunlight, shuriken impale the targets on them, biting into their canvas skin.

Perfect score.

Sasuke is there, too, a child, around seven. He’s smiling and there are stars in his dark eyes and he’s looking at his older brother like Itachi is going to give him the world.

“Can you teach me that, too?” His voice just bleeds excitement and awe, he wants to be just like his older brother who is the Best Ninja Ever. Itachi extends his hand, moves his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. There’s a half moon smile of white teeth suddenly there on Sasuke’s face, he runs towards his brother, and Itachi uses his index and middle finger, pokes in the middle of Sasuke’s forehead, who flinches back, makes a pouting face, knowing the next sentence by heart.

“I’m sorry Sasuke, maybe next time.”

“You always say that.”

Itachi smiles apologetically, then thinks about it. Is he really busy right now? He usually is; he planned to finish his training and help his father with some mission work. But… Well, considering the state of things, he might not have more opportunities like this.

So that can wait until another time.

“I think I may be free now, actually.” Itachi sees Sasuke’s whole being shine brighter and warmer than the sun.

Itachi teaches Sasuke the beginnings of shurikenjutsu. Sasuke learns quickly, and glows in every word of his older brother’s praise and encouragement.

At the end of it all, Sasuke grabs Itachi, hugs him tight.

“Thank you, older brother.”

And Itachi feels…

Happy.

… , …

Suddenly, things are different. His body hurts, all over, it’s cold around him, dark, Itachi’s vision is blurred and then he realizes where he is, remembers that this world, this is his reality. Kisame is already awake, it’s morning, they have to get ready for… what’s next, for Itachi.

Kisame tells Itachi that he should’ve woken him up earlier, but he didn’t.

“Why?”

Apparently he was smiling in his sleep. Kisame asks what he was dreaming about.

Itachi has to think for a while, before he finds the right thing to say.

… , …

“How things should have been.”

#ask #drabbles

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youngjaelook · 6 years

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Querencia — Park Jinyoung

author's note — another requested imagine! i actually really like this one, it's lowkey kinda fluffy yet angsty at the same time. hope u guys like itttt! also send me some more requests! to anon, i know u requested a jinyoung au and im so sorryyy asfkdfjfdkl i hope u still like it tho T.T #UNEDITED!

request from anon — Hi! Would like to request for park jinyoung au, where he forgot about 1st anniversary and his s/o had prepared a surprise for that day. but jinyoung didn’t appear and then, when he realized, he tried to put the situation to rights?

summary — Lately, it seems like Jinyoung doesn't know that he's the reason you're falling apart.

warnings — slight smut, angsty-ish & flufffff

word count — 2K

Jinyoung was rarely ever running late, so when the clock struck ten and he was still nowhere to be found, you wondered if you supposed to feel worried.

It was mid-November in Seoul, so it wasn't exactly warm outside. The air was biting and you could practically make out the white snow starting to fall down from the sky like beads of rain on a July afternoon.

"It's Jinyoung! I'm probably busy at the moment, so please leave a me —" Usually, you loved the sound of Jinyoung's voice, but tonight it was anything but soothing.

You looked up at the sky, cursing the gods for your luck today, and sighed.

You were aware that dating an idol wasn't going to be a walk in the park. You had to compete for his attention on most days.

Sometimes you felt almost like a burden to him.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you jerk in surprise.

It's Jinyoung.

You don't hesitate to answer him, heart beating widly in your chest as you prayed he was okay and safe, and not in some freak car crash or something. "Yah, Park Jinyoung! Why haven't you answered my calls? Are you alright? Oh God, please tell me you're alright."

You hear shuffling on the other side, followed by a heavy sigh.

"I'm fine, jagiya. I just — I'm still at this party and I don't know if I can make it tonight." It's like your heart is free falling into the dark void in your stomach.

You don't know if you should be relieved that he's safe and not in the hospital, or if you should cry because this is the third time he's flaked out on you. You figured any other day would be fine for him to ditch you for his job, but today marked your first year together — did he even care?

Jinyoung takes note of your silence. He's pulling at his dress tie, mouth dry and lip twitching as his guilt starts eating him away.

"Princess —"

"Why do we even bother anymore, Jinyoung?"

And it's as if all of Jinyoung's demons start mocking him, torturing his senses, driving him insane as the words roll off your tongue.

He swallows thickly. "Jagiya, let's not talk about this now," he looks around, hoping nobody can see the tears in his eyes, or the tremble in his hands. "please."

It takes almost everything in you not to scream at your phone before hurling your phone into the busy street. You take in deep breaths in order to calm your state of mind, but it doesn't work — you don't know if anything will work anymore.

"Goodnight Jinyoung." Your voice is soft, on the brink of breaking, and you hung up the phone before you could hear him protest.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, only the sound of your sniffles and the buzzing of the cars on the roads, are the only sounds you hear along with the shattering of your heart with each step you take.

When you get home, you fling yourself on your bed — the velvet sheets keeping you warm, and providing you comfort.

After what felt like hours of crying which were only just about twenty minutes in reality you make yourself a cup of tea to calm down your raging head-ache.

You don't know where you stand with Jinyoung at the moment, neither did Jinyoung.

He was whizzing past crowds trying to get to the exit. The remorse in his heart prompted him to run back to your apartment, to see you.

Wonpil was the one who noticed his fellow label-mate sprinting for the door. He frowned as he made his way to Jinyoung.

"Jinyoung-ah!" Jinyoung looked like a mad man as he turned around to face Wonpil. "woah, are you alright? Did you drink too much — it's very unlike you to get drunk this early into the party."

Early? Jinyoung wanted to scream. It was half past midnight, and the girl he loved oh so dearly was probably back in her apartment after hours of waiting for him, crying herself to sleep because he didn't show up!

It was too late.

Wonpil noticed the conflict in Jinyoung's face and laid his hand on Jinyoung's shoulder as he gazed deeply into his eyes. "You haven't been taking," he looked around and lowered his voice. "drugs, right?"

Jinyoung's eyes visibly widened. "What? No, of course not! It's just," he ran his hand down his face, flustered and frustrated. "I flaked out on my girlfriend."

Wonpil pursed his lips. "Again?"

Jinyoung nearly choked on his spit. "Again? What the hell do you mean again —" Wonpil shook his head. "I can take you to her apartment if you want, I know where it is."

Jinyoung always thought Wonpil was a gift sent from heaven.

"You would do that?" Jinyoung asked.

Wonpil always liked you not in that way, though, he thought you were a nice girl, an extremely warm soul with a good heart — he knew you deserved better, but he always knew that you loved Jinyoung with every fiber in your being.

"Yeah, of course."

Jinyoung didn't hesitate at all as he followed Wonpil to his car parked in the basement.

And as the car started to take off and the party's music fizzled from earshot, Jinyoung couldn't help but think, "Wait, you know where my girlfriend lives?"

Wonpil switched gears and chuckled. "Y/N's a really nice person, and a great friend."

Emphasis on friend.

Wonpil managed to get them there in under fifteen minutes. But in those less than fifteen minutes, he nearly ran over a stray cat, nearly missed another car's side mirror by an inch and ran a red light.

Jinyoung looked pale as he reached to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Hyung," he gasped. "How did you even manage to get your license, or a car for that matter?"

Wonpil merely shrugged. "I have my connections." He said. "Now go," Jinyoung nodded and wobbled got out of the car.

"Yah, I'll be down here if anything backfires!" Wonpil gave him a thumbs-up and attempted to parallel park the car.

Jinyoung races to the elevator and tries to calm his breathing, though it's no use because he's starting to panic and the cramped space of the lift isn't really helping.

There's this dread sinking into his bones that he's going to lose you. It's been only a year, but he's convinced that he only wants you.

Jinyoung feels at home with you.

Every time the sunlight pours into his room and you're sprawled out beside him, his heart warms and it's like he's going crazy as he stares at you. He wants to have this everyday, to bask in your warmth and that pretty smile of yours.

Jinyoung raps on your door four times.

You're by the kitchen, stirring your tea when he knocks. You nearly jolt out of your skin. You check the time and see that it's nearly one in the morning.

You open the door and stare in shock when you see it's Jinyoung, looking like a mess — a handsome mess.

"You look like you're about to puke, are you drunk?" Jinyoung shakes his head. "No, Wonpil drove me here." You immediately understand.

One time Wonpil had suggested he take you home after you both got some coffee together — never again, is what you tell yourself.

"Okay, I think you need to sit down," You don't hesitate to take Jinyoung inside. He always made you so soft.

You guide him to the couch, laying him down softly against satin pillows. He suddenly feels intoxicated by your touch, compelled to run his hands against your sides.

"Jagiya," You don't respond, finding interest in your fuzzy socks.

Jinyoung feels desperate. "Princess, look at me." You still don't look.

"Y/N," your head snaps up and you stare into Jinyoung's eyes with your glassy ones.

Looking at you right now, Jinyoung felt beyond guilty. How could he put you last, how could he leave you out in the cold? How did he deserve someone like you?

"Come here," And it's like his voice is a spell, bewitching you to follow everything he said.

You hesitantly sit on his lap, the material of your cotton shorts hiking up to your thighs. Jinyoung buries his head into your chest, sniffling and muttering out incoherent sorry's.

Your heart breaks even more if that's possible.

You run your digits along the softness of his dark locks, twisting and caressing his silky hair. "Jinyoung," you murmur.

Jinyoung sobs and clutches on to the fabric of your shirt. "Please don't leave me, Y/N. I know I don't deserve you — but please, I promise I will do what ever I can to give you everything you want, everything you need."

You're sobbing along with him, not caring if his tears are ruining your shirt. "Jinyoung, don't say that." You cry.

"I just really don't want to lose you," he peers up at you, and you feel like falling in love with him all over again as you stare at him.

His eyelashes are wet with his tears, and his eyes are iridescent and lustrous under the warm lighting of your living room. His lips are parted and rosy, so tempting to kiss and nip at.

"You won't, Jinyoung-ah." You reach out to stroke the supple skin of his flushed cheeks, admiring how smooth he felt underneath the pads of your fingertips.

Jinyoung brings his lips up to touch your own. His kisses are urgent, yet soft and gentle. His hands travel down to touch the small of your back, guiding you flush against him.

The material of his pants kneaded the heat between your legs, leaving you panting and whimpering, and he doesn't stop, only picking up his pace as he admires you falling apart above him.

"Jagiya," his voice has turned hoarse and slightly deeper, sparking a blue flame in you. "strip for me, please." It doesn't take much from you to do what you're told.

In a matter of seconds, you're nearly bare in front of him; the only thing acting as a barrier between you two are your panties and his slacks.

"So pretty for me," he muses.

You sigh when his lips leaves a trail of kisses on the valley between your breasts. "Only for you."

And as Jinyoung hooks his fingers on the hem of your underwear, his phone blares in his pockets. Who could be calling him at this ungodly hour?

Jinyoung gives you a look as he continues to undress you. Your hand reaches into his pocket, fishing out his phone.

"It's Wonpil?"

Jinyoung stops what he's doing and curses silently. "Shit, he's still downstairs."

You watch in amusement as Jinyoung answers the phone, a look of anticipation in his face. "Yah! Park Jinyoung, I've been waiting here for the past hour —" Jinyoung frowns at you and shifts the phone to his other ear. "I swear to God if you two are fucking up there I will —" You take the phone from Jinyoung's hand and giggle.

"Wonpil-oppa,"

The line is silent for awhile before Wonpil speaks up, his voice much softer compared to earlier.

"Y/N-ah," Jinyoung stares at you in shock. There's a twinge of bitterness that strikes his chest, pouting and crossing his arms like a child being told off.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, oppa. But Jinyoung and I are okay now, so you can go home." You tell him, sweetly.

Wonpil nods, though you can't see him. "Yeah, alright alright."

"Thank you, Wonpil-oppa. Drive home safely, and text Jinyoung when you've arrived home." Jinyoung glares at the wall behind you, still pouting. You hand him the phone, and Jinyoung presses it against his ear. "So, you've got a soft spot for my girlfriend, huh hyung?"

You shook your head and began to unbutton Jinyoung's button-down.

"Of course, I do — I mean, what kind of person doesn't?" Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Wonpil snickers. "You should see Jinyoung PD-nim with her." You shrug innocently at Jinyoung and offer him a small smile.

"Anyways, I'm going. Take care, and I'll see you soon." The phone call ends and Jinyoung takes your hands away from his shirt.

"Jinyoung PD-nim?"

Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I have that effect on people."

Jinyoung chuckles and smiles knowingly. "I can attest to that."

#park jinyoung #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung smut #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung angst #got7 #wonpil #day6 #got7 imagine #got7 angst #got7 fluff #im jaebum #kim yugyeom #choi youngjae #bambam #jackson wang #mark tuan #kpop

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stellatex · 5 years

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Nine Questions I Need Teresa Giudice to Answer: Updated

Originally published February 15, 2016 I actually gave up Bravo for Lent, but I've already floundered on day one by continuing to watch, think about, and write about this bullshit. Sunk costs and all that.

So, here is my updated scorecard on the nine questions I needed Teresa to answer if she expected the viewing public to continue watching and supporting her.

1. You said in your statement to the judge during sentencing that you “fully take responsibility” for your actions. You said, “It’s time for me to wake up… I will make this right no matter what it takes.” Why, immediately afterward, in your interview on Watch What Happens Live, did you backtrack and try to deflect blame to your husband while insisting things were just put before you to sign?

In my opinion, she's doing this because she's being coached, either by her lawyer or a new PR team, or both, probably because they mistakenly believe that painting Teresa as some kind of innocent bedazzled Madonna will allow her to keep the Bravo Sunday gravy train chugging along. It's also possible that Teresa's advisors, friends, and various hangers-on, whoever they may be, are telling her how faaaaabulous she is--that's it's obvious she's the wronged party, and that she's so very strong and inspiring, etc., etc.--because they know who butters their bread, and, if history is any guide, Teresa has a habit of cutting out anyone who questions her lies and self deception (as we've seen both on the show and in the news reports about how she fired her publicist, her lawyers, and her co-writer). It's obvious that there are still a few small-time Jersey famewhores buzzing around Teresa in the mistaken belief that she is a queen bee. Typical celebrity yes-men and con-men. We've seen this over and over with celebrities, and it never turns out well, though a lot of people may make a lot of money in the short-term, and get some of that reflected spotlight that they so obviously crave. Regardless, like I said in my original post, if Teresa thinks she can just skate out of federal prison as a sinewy, chilled-out felon and continue to stonewall and deny and refuse to acknowledge any criminal culpability whatsoever, she has severely misjudged the nature of her dubious fame. But more on that in a moment.

Regardless, all of the interviewers asked her a fairly direct version of the question above; shockingly, Andy Cohen pushed it the hardest, asking point-blank, "What did you do? Can you tell us what you did?" And still she played dumb, owning up to merely "signing some papers." Girlfriend, we can all read the indictment. If you're so innocent, why didn't you take your case to trial? You admitted in the process of accepting a plea deal that you were guilty. Accepting a plea deal necessitates that you not only agree to pleading guilty, but that you are fully cognizant of what you are pleading to and that you understand the consequences. We all know what you did, Teresa.

2. You claim to be “business savvy,” telling your husband on an episode of RHONJ, “Like, you know, that’s what I do now. I’m a businesswoman, so I’m thinking business.” You’ve touted your online businesses, your Fabellini drink line, your Milania hair care line, your success as a “New York Time [sic] best-selling author.” So how is it that you are also simultaneously claiming to be a clueless housewife who knows nothing of her own finances, including the assets from said businesses that you tried to hide during both your fraudulent bankruptcy and your sentencing?

See above. This is bullshit.

3. If you are blaming your husband Joe for your ten-plus-years of financial fraud and the year you spent unjustly incarcerated in a federal prison, why are you still with him?

"Because I know he would never do anything to hurt me. He didn't mean to."

Uh, okay. That is also bullshit. Just transparently, obviously, self evidently, undeniably, total bullshit.

4. What would you say to the creditors, banks, and, most importantly, small business owners of New Jersey whom you and your husband fleeced to the tune of millions of dollars? Do you feel any obligation to repay these debts?

Still waiting on someone, anyone, to ask her this obvious follow-up question.

Furthermore, Teresa: I don't want to hear anything else about how this is all Joe's fault, or your brother Joe Gorga's fault, or your sister-in-law Melissa's fault, or your cousin Kathy's fault, or your accountants' fault, or your bankers' fault, or your attorneys' fault. It's not. It's 100% your fault. You're the one who committed the crimes. You're the one who went on national television flaunting thousands of dollars of cash purchases despite the fact that neither you nor your uneducated, clueless husband could possibly ever earn that much money legitimately. And, most importantly, you're the one who cravenly filed for bankruptcy to the tune of $13+ million dollars when you could no longer prop up your charade of nouveau riche consumerism for America's most satanic cable network. You're the one who stole from banks and fleeced businesses. You're a thief, a liar, and, now, a felon.

5. Explain this.

Everybody asked her about this, but instead of answering, she just blamed Joe, who leased it for her (another obvious lie; how did the bankrupt, apparently unemployed felon, who currently has a lien on his house to the tune of half a million dollars, get a lease?). She even blamed Lexus for putting a big red bow on top--which she claims they did because they knew it would be good publicity for Lexus! Uh, okay. I'm sure Lexus wants their brand to be associated with tacky low-life Jersey felons. Sure. Yep. Nobody asked her, "Why not a cheaper car, though?"

6. Why are you and your husband suing your bankruptcy attorney? Furthermore, do you not realize that, in doing so, you will be giving up your attorney-client privilege and opening yourselves up to a new investigation of your finances during the discovery process?

Nobody has asked her this. I am sure she's just say she can't talk about it. But I wonder if these questions have even occurred to her tiny, pisello brain.

7. What are you going to do when Joe is deported?

She demurs on this one, too, probably because--as Vicki Hyman points out--she doesn't want to jeopardize the incredibly small chance Joe has of not being deported per federal guidelines by admitting that she would move to Italy with him.

8. You talk constantly about your love, love, love for your four beautiful dorters. Why did you put them in this position?

I don't think anyone has really asked her this recently, but she is still selling the story that none of the dorters but Gia know what's going on. Which is obviously ridiculous.

And remember how she previously whined on-camera about how haaaaard all of this financial mess (i.e. her multiple felonies) has been on her four beautiful dorters, who don't even have a college fund!

So, you were busy stealing $13+ million dollars, and earning tens of thousands per episode appearing on Bravo, and earning more selling tabloid stories and writing multiple "New York Time bestseller [sic]" books, and buying all those designer clothes and bags and luxury cars, and creating that hideous redone home, and yet you didn't put any of the money aside for your kids? Honey, that's not on anyone but you. And you've made it abundantly clear from your actions that you do not give a single shit about the well-being of your girls. So shut the fuck up with the martyred mother pity party. America ain't buying it.

9. Why should viewers overlook your felonious criminal past and continue to support you by watching RHONJ or buying your books or products?

??????

This is the question.

I, for one, am not.It was clear from five minutes into Teresa's comeback tour that she hasn't changed one whit.

As a fan of the show from the first notes of the opening credits of the first episode, I was shocked when Teresa was sentenced. I had followed the news all day, waiting... waiting... waiting... for the verdicts to come down. And, much like her famewhore family members who allowed their reaction to be filmed (or recreated...) for RHONJ, I was utterly gobsmacked. This zany, silly, thoroughly unserious woman, whom we had all watched for years, was in fact "going away" to prison--and for a not-insignificant amount of time. In that moment, everything changed. This was really real. And I couldn't help thinking about the shock Teresa herself must've felt. She was clearly still in shock when she and Joe sat down for a WWHL special with Andy less than 24 hours after their sentencing.

But it was also kind of cathartic. It was obvious to everyone that the Giudices were Up To Something--from the first episode with the wads of cash and carefree spending. Having followed the case closely and read the indictments, I was not surprised--not really. Even as someone who had a love/hate relationship with the Bravo character called "Tre," it was an awful thing to witness--but it seemed just. And there was a sliver of hope there... that maybe Teresa would, finally, be forced to her own personal reckoning. Maybe, just maybe, all that time away from her children and the onyx manse and the cameras might give Teresa's limited mind the space it needed to feel a small glimmer of shame. That maybe the dawning light of that shame would lead to some actual introspection. She even used the vanity vehicle of "Teresa Checks In" (which I maintain should've been called "Teresa Goes Away") to brag about how much praying she was doing in there. I think many of us more savvy viewers were really hoping she was experiencing genuine remorse.

But nope.

The truly staggering thing to me about all of this is that even eleven months in federal prison wasn't enough to lead to any moral progress at all for this self-obsessed, brain-dead, glitter-bombed Portrait of Dorian Gray.

She will never change.

She is irredeemable.

Her story is over.

There is nothing new to see here. Watching the continuing cautionary tale that is Teresa Giudice is not only a waste of time and potentially personally morally corrosive, but--even worse--it's boring.

And the cherry top? Her blithe, casual endorsement of the candidacy of Donald Trump. I wasn't expecting that--though I probably should've--and it is so much more perfect than either of them could ever realize.

Both of them think they're famous; but, in reality, they're only infamous.

#RHONJ

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janedujour · 7 years

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Hey! For the writing prompts, if you feel like it, no. 92, please - "What do you want me to say?" Thanks.🙂

This will never be finished. Just take it! Thanks!

Mike/Harvey. Untitled.

9:30am. That’s when the agony of not knowing anything subsided into the irritation of knowing not quite enough.

Since Harvey rolled in to work like a damp towel two and a half hours late, Mike had a determined eye on him. He caught Harvey looking away when Mike looked at him. He knew Harvey was making himself scarce by keeping busier than he really was — checking in with employees he’d never met, taking calls that would normally have been ducked, taking more bathroom breaks than coffees… it didn’t really add up. Harvey was always impossibly busy, but he never made a show of it like this unless he was trying to prove something or avoid somebody.

Keeping a secret was hard work. Mike should know.

Every time Mike saw the back of Harvey’s head, it made him work harder to get in his face. He didn’t care if it made him look desperate. Harvey owed Mike an explanation for the night before. A text (“sry can’t make it”) was worthless. It’s not like they were just meeting up for a beer after work. This was bigger. They had plans. Was Mike’s time and consideration so cheap that he could be blown off like that with no explanation? Was Harvey’s excuse so devastating that he couldn’t share it? Harvey hadn’t been this late for work in a long time, which meant he had either blown off Mike for something really important, or really fun. And, yes — those two things were mutually exclusive. (With the exception of the fun, important thing that Mike had lined up for him the night before.)

A part of him was genuinely worried, but bitterness felt much safer.

Mike was prepared to stalk Harvey off-site for lunch, when a golden opportunity for well-earned passive aggression landed in his lap instead. Harvey arrived to Mike’s office with a single sheet of paper hanging lifelessly in his hands. Mike could tell by his posture that he’d really made the rounds before finally landing at this inevitable destination.

“Need you to handle this.” Harvey held out the paper. Off-white. Thick. Faintly speckled, indicating post-consumer environmentally friendly wizardry. The expensive paper. The good shit. Must have been a hefty client. Time stamp was from that morning. This had nothing to do with Harvey’s absence the night before.

“Sorry, can’t make it,” Mike declared in triumph, mimicking Harvey’s last-minute text from the night before, clenching his whole head in an effort not to grin with satisfaction. He pretended to turn his attention back to his computer. That junk mail wasn’t going to delete itself…

“Shit,” mumbled Harvey. His shoulders softened as he clasped his hand around the paper. “Are you really that pissed off at me that you can’t find it in your heart to do your job?”

“Ringside, Harvey.” Mike met Harvey’s eyes for the first time all day, mirrored with the same command and superiority. “Ringside. It was not easy to get those tickets.”

“I know. I tried last month,” Harvey confessed. The corner of his mouth twitched into a remorseful grin. He shrugged. “I don’t know how you did it.”

“I guess you’ll never know”, said Mike, typing some empty nonsense into his computer, pretending to be too busy for the brilliant, beautiful son of a bitch he’d spent a weeks negotiating and outbidding on behalf of for those tickets that ended up in a gutter. If all he’d wanted to do was to impress him, this would have been his success. He got the damn tickets. Woop-dee-goddamn-doo. Worthiness accomplished. But Harvey would have done anything to have been there for that match, and Mike really did want to give him what he wanted. To make him happy. And to gain his envy and appreciation, sure, but that was just a perk.

“Let me take you out.”

“Wow.” Mike leaned back in his chair and looked up at Harvey. The bastard must have felt really guilty.

“Listen…” Harvey began to unfold the crumpled paper in his hand. “I know there’s got to be a loophole here, but I don’t have time to find it right now. Deal with this, and I’ll take you… wherever. You name it.”

“Does this have anything to do with why you bailed on me last night.”

“No. Why would it?” Harvey sounded sincere.

Mike tried not to think too long or hard before deciding that he was unwilling to give Harvey the satisfaction.

“I’ll take your case, but I’m not going anywhere with you.” That wasn’t easy for him to say.

Mike leaned towards his computer and pretended not to see the strong, elegant lines of Harvey’s suit inches from his face. Pretended not to breathe the delectable scent of his cologne. He blindly snatched the paper from Harvey’s hand — just a contract with some notes scribbled in the margins, very professional, Harvey — and gave it a quick once-over. His mind started to pose questions and make connections regarding the flimsy document. The loopholes were there. Harvey knew that this was his weakness. The work excited him. Always would. Mike pretended not to take too much interest. It was hard to pretend not to care when you had a brain that was interested in every little detail in the world, but he couldn’t let Harvey smooth this over so easily with a tasty little bureaucratic challenge and a lunch special. It wasn’t fair.

Harvey was still standing there, even though he was apparently too busy. Everything on the page was obvious and Harvey wasn’t stupid. He was looking for an excuse to come talk to Mike. Fair enough.

“I’ll pay you back,” Harvey offered suddenly. “Whatever the tickets cost. Both of them, not just mine.”

“I don’t care about that,” snapped Mike, quietly. He looked up at Harvey with a scolding glare that lasted one barely-detectable second. “Don’t do that.”

“Are you really that pissed off at me?”

“Forget it, Harvey. It’s not worth it.” Once Mike realized that Harvey wasn’t going to give him any explanations, he decided that it really wasn’t a discussion worth having. But he couldn’t forget it. He couldn’t forget how insignificant it had made him feel when Harvey bailed at the last second with no explanation, without even pretending that something urgent had come up. It was so casual. So this debate would be casual, too, if that’s the kind of relationship they had. He wasn’t going to let Harvey write him a cheque to reimburse him, because that would just make it okay, and it wasn’t. The offer was insulting. Actions speak louder than money.

“Shit.” Harvey was still, tense, breathing deeply, slowly, and gathering all his strength before he finally landed with his hands pressed against the edge of Mike’s desk. “I’m sorry.”

Mike could feel Harvey’s stare so he looked up. And goddamn it, he believed him.

“I am really sorry about that,” Harvey repeated, holding Mike’s uncertain gaze. “I really wanted to take you up on those tickets, but something came up.“ Harvey shook his head. “I’m a piece of shit. I know it.”

Mike just nodded, disappointed by the ambiguity. He knew that this was mostly a problem of his own pride. He felt like a fool for letting himself think he could be a priority in this man’s life. Harvey was always the VIP and Mike was always the Plus One, and that was something Mike have to come to terms with on his own time. He was not a priority to Harvey and never would be. Not when it came to his personal life. And feeling disappointed by that was the problem. Mike was the problem.

Harvey exhaled, his shoulders drooping, well aware that the apology hadn’t landed.

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t care,” lied Mike. This was going nowhere. Mike just had to shut up and learn to accept that he and Harvey simply had very different ways of managing their so-called friendship.

Mike turned his attention back to the paper Harvey had given to him, only to have it snatched away again. He opened his hands in defeat.

“Do you actually want me to help you with that, or—“

“You should care,” said Harvey, the guilt in his voice shifting a few gears over to annoyance. “If you did to me what I did to you, I’d be angry.”

Harvey’s phone rang in his pocket. Mike expected Harvey to take the call as an opportunity to end the conversation — what a gift! — but he pulled it out, switched it off, and put it away again without even looking at it.

Alright. Harvey was being civilized. Mike would meet him halfway.

“I wouldn’t say angry,” began Mike.

“Come on, you’re obviously pissed at me.”

“Harvey —“

“You’ve been giving me cut-eye since I walked in today.”

“Because I was worried about you,” Mike confessed through clenched teeth. “Alright? Can you understand that? You blew off ringside tickets to the match of the century. You’d spent all week getting ahead of your schedule so that you could be there for it, and you didn’t give me any explanation at all. And then you didn’t come in to work this morning… I thought someone died. I mean… are you okay?” Was he? Was Harvey okay? Deep down, that’s all Mike really wanted to know. Excuses be damned.

“Oh.” Harvey looked stunned and baffled.

Mike rolled his eyes. Was Harvey really that oblivious to how his actions — or inactions — affected other people?

Harvey settled himself into the chair across from Mike’s desk and exhaled deeply. “Don’t exaggerate. It wasn’t the fight of the century — more like decade. Okay?”

“So, what happened?” Mike could finally lean back in his own chair and relax now that he and Harvey were sitting down and talking like friends.

“Nobody died.”

“So I guess…” Mike searched for an explanation, since Harvey still wasn’t giving him one. “You were so jealous that I got the tickets you couldn’t get that you decided to boycott?” Before Harvey could respond, Mike held up his hand. “I’m joking. Don’t worry, Harvey, we all know that you can get whatever you want.”

Harvey laughed softly. “Right.” He shook his head in bemusement. Or possibly disagreement.

“I know it had to be important,” said Mike, talking himself through this shitty feeling. “I know how much you were looking forward to it, so obviously it was something really urgent.”

“Yes and no…” Harvey scratched his head. “Mostly no.”

Mike waited. He couldn’t really afford the time to wait him out, but Harvey couldn’t really afford the time he was taking to sit there either. The office was bustling around them and they should have been flowing with that current, but they were both stubborn as rocks.

“Alright,” Harvey said finally, provoked to confession by Mike’s silence. “Alright. You want me to be honest?”

Mike laughed. “I don’t want you to lie.”

Harvey raked his teeth across his lip and nodded. With a shrug, he confessed: “I needed to get laid.” His tone was flat and low. A disappointing confession.

Mike’s mouth fell open but nothing came out. He was relieved and angry and couldn’t comprehend how something like that could possibly take priority. From Mike’s perspective, Harvey was getting pussy left, right, and centre. Was it that hard to go without it for a few hours to spend some time with a friend doing one of his favourite things in the world?

“So… what, are you, like… a sex addict?”

“Jesus Christ…” Harvey seemed offended and disappointed — in himself, or in the question, Mike wasn’t sure. “No, I’m not a goddamn sex addict. I was…” Harvey gave up for a second, well aware that his words were going to fail him in this explanation. “I was on my way to meet you, and I bumped into someone I used to know.”

“And suddenly she tripped and you broke the fall with your dick. I totally get it. Happens to me all the time.” Mike still couldn’t wrap his head around Harvey’s priorities.

“I’ve been going through some…” When Harvey saw the interest on Mike’s face, he shook his head and waved off whatever he was going to say next. “Look, I’m not going to get into my personal shit with you right now, but I’m not using the word need lightly here.”

Mike had no idea how to respond. This was not what he was expecting. “No, be my guest. Get into the personal shit. I really wanna know.” He heard how sarcastic he must have sounded, but he wasn’t. At all.

“Are you going to accept my apology or not?”

Mike shrugged.

“What do you want me to say? I’m a bad friend. I’m impulsive and inconsiderate. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I heard you apologize the first time,” said Mike.

“Then say something.”

“Did you honestly cancel plans with me for sex?’

Harvey considered his answer for a moment. “More or less” he compromised.

“Didn’t it cross your mind that when someone goes out of their way to get you ringside tickets to a match you’d give your let nut to see live, that they might expect you to put out after?” Mike couldn’t resist. Harvey was asking for it.

Harvey let that sink in for a second. Then he laughed humourlessly and stood to leave, brushing Mike off. Moving on.

“Oh.” Mike straightened up in his chair when he realized he’d put an abrupt end to their conversation. “Okay, bye. Good talk.”

“Shouldn’t joke about that shit,” Harvey said under his breath, and pushed open the door.

Mike wondered if Harvey realized he was still holding that contract he’d come by to give to him.

“Harvey.” Mike bolted out of his chair and pushed open the door, catching Harvey a few steps into the hallway. He was on to something. He wasn’t going to let this go.

Harvey turned and rolled his eyes, walking reluctantly back over to Mike.

“So are you gonna give it to me or not?” Mike asked.

Harvey examined Mike’s face in confusion for five full seconds before Mike realized what it had sounded like. But he didn’t correct himself. He just loved watching Harvey squirm. Why the hell was this making him so uncomfortable, anyway? Had HR been breathing down his neck about professionalism in the workplace or something?

Mike’s eyes inadvertently darted down to the contract in Harvey’s hand, and as soon as Harvey’s gaze followed, he clearly understood, and he breathed again. Harvey held up the paper with a relieved grin spreading across his face.

“Think you can take it?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, playing along with Mike’s game that wasn’t a game, and Mike played back. It was so hard not to.

Mike took the paper from Harvey’s hand. “When have I ever sad no to you?”

Harvey scoffed. “That’s a good one. I think you’re averaging at least one no per hour…”

“Then you’re not asking me the right questions,” Mike told him.

“What do you want me to ask you?” Harvey was venturing precariously out on a limb now. It was a very open-ended question.

To everyone around them, this must have looked like a very normal, casual conversation. They were starting to get really good at that.  “Why don’t you take the day to think about it.” Mike tried to stop himself, but he didn’t try that hard. This has been a long time coming. “Then ask me at dinner. If the offer still stands.”

Mike pretended to breathe under Harvey’s curious stare while he waited for a response.

Harvey looked Mike up and down with a subtle nod. “It’s a date.”

Mike held his breath until Harvey — after taking one good, long look at him — turned to walk to back to his office. Mike almost collapsed. He couldn’t believe it worked. Whatever it was. Harvey would probably reschedule again, but…

“Oh, I almost forgot…” Harvey snapped and turned back to Mike with an afterthought balancing on the tip of his tongue and his manicured finger.

Mike’s heart sank, and he scolded it for reacting at all. Harvey was an expert at keeping Mike at a manageable distance. He certainly had enough practice.

“I hope you don’t have plans after dinner, because I had the match rescheduled.” When Harvey didn’t see any reaction from Mike, he clarified: “From last night, to tonight.”

Mike was numb. He couldn’t be hearing that correctly. "You’re fucking lying.”

Harvey didn’t deny it. Instead, he reached into his pocked and pulled out a pair of tickets. They looked just like the pair Mike had thrown away the night before, but with a different date. Today’s date.

Mike stared at the tickets that Harvey held up in front of his face. He read the fine print. This was no bullshit. The tickets were authentic.

“Ringside,” said Harvey. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“This is…” Mike didn’t know what he was feeling. He was impressed and angry for all the things that he always felt impressed and angry with Harvey for. His superiority. His perfection. But most of all, his surprises. This didn’t make it okay for him to stand Mike up the night before, but it was worth something. “This is impossible.”

Harvey shrugged, like it was all so simple. “You said it. Match of the century. And I get what I want.”

“But that can’t…” No. “It can’t… you can’t…” Who the fuck did he think he was?

“I did.” Harvey took Mike by the arm and slid one of the tickets into his pocket, discretely, like it was a bribe. They both knew what it felt like to be on the giving and the receiving end of that at this point in their lives. And now they were standing too close. Anyone could see that. And that didn’t matter to Harvey… which mattered to Mike. So he didn’t pull away.

 “But just so you know…” Harvey warned, leaning into his ear with a grin in his eyes. “When someone gets you ringside tickets to the fight of the century… they expect you to put out.”

Mike extended his hand — which barely fit between them, they were standing so close now — to end this transaction before Harvey could see how red his face was getting. “Deal,” he agreed.

Harvey shook his hand with a nod, and another discerning once-over. “You know, if you wanted to stand me up to get back at me, this would be the opportunity.”

“I know,” Mike said quickly, as if that’s what he really wanted.

Harvey sighed in satisfaction and walked away.

Mike stood there, dumbfounded, and put his hand in his pocket to touch the thick card that his ticket was printed on. Harvey had done something impossible. And he’d apologized. And he’d offered Mike revenge. Or whatever else Mike was up for. He may have been a rich, entitled jerk but at least he did it with flare and consideration. Mike didn’t give a shit about wrestling, and Harvey knew that. He knew a lot. And Mike had a suspicion that he wanted to know more.

Mike went back into his office and dispelled all thoughts of revenge or bitterness. Keeping a secret was hard work. Pretending to keep a secret was even harder. Mike reclined in his chair with an ease he hadn’t felt in a long time, and accepted Harvey’s apology.

#marvey #suits fanfiction #suits fic

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