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geekfanficwriter · 2 years

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Head Over Feet- Steve x Fem!Reader Part 2

Summary: After sleeping with Steve, you find out the truth of why he rejected you but are you able to rebuild your relationship? Words: 5.5k Warning: Angst, SMUT (18+, minors dni), oral (m and f recieving)

Part 1

When you finally made it to Eddie’s trailer you were completely soaked. It had started raining about 5 minutes into your walk and you had forgotten your jacket at Steve’s. You knocked on the door and heard some shuffling about inside before the door was thrown open.

‘Y/N, do you know what time it is? It’s way too- woah are you okay?’ Eddie said looking at you and seeing the tears running down your face.

‘No.’ You shook your head trying to stave off a fresh wave of tears from falling.

‘Come in, Jesus you’re freezing.’ Eddie said placing his hand on your arm. ‘Right, I’ll get you a change of clothes and you can jump in the shower. Are you hungry?’

‘Yeah, I am a little hungry.’ You mumble wrapping your arms around yourself as you follow Eddie through to his room.

‘Okay, well I don’t really have anything to eat so I’ll head out and grab something while your showering.’ Eddie handed you a change of clothes and a towel. You thanked him and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower. You stripped off your wet clothes and climbed in. You had been able to keep some sort of control while walking to Eddie’s but now you were alone you let it all out. You sat on the floor of the shower as the water cascaded over you, sobbing loudly. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid. You had been there, watching Steve and Nancy flirt while the group of you fought for your life. And yet you’d fallen for him anyway and ended up sleeping with him as if it had actually meant anything. You eventually stopped crying for long enough to probably shower, making sure to scrub all traces of Steve off you completely. You climbed out of the shower, pulling on the sweatpants and band shirt Eddie gave you. You looked in the mirror at your red puffy eyes, as you dried your hair with the towel. You eventually sighed and left the bathroom, just as Eddie entered the trailer with a bag of food.

‘Hope you’re in the mood for eggs and bacon because that’s what I bought.’ He said grabbing a pan out of one of the cupboards.

‘Yeah, that’s fine.’ You reply flopping down on the couch.

‘Okay well, you going to tell me what happened?’ Eddie had his back faced to you as he cooked up food for you. You stayed silent for a few moments.

‘I slept with Steve.’ You finally said sighing as you spoke.

‘Oh, so you finally admitted you're into him.’

‘Umm, what’s that supposed to mean?’ You ask. How did Eddie know you were into Steve? You didn’t even know you were into Steve until a few days ago.

‘You’re always so touchy with him. I mean it’s obvious. I’m just surprised you didn’t realise. Anyway, why are you so upset?’

‘Because this morning I woke up alone and when I went downstairs, Nancy Wheeler was there and then after he told me it was a mistake.’ You sighed, trying not to start crying again.

‘I’m going to fucking kill him.’ Eddie said as he started plating up your food. ‘What did you say in response?’

‘I agreed. I mean what the hell else was I meant to say, ‘thanks for taking my virginity and then breaking my heart’.’ You shrug.

‘Yeah, I guess. Oh god, you’re going to fucking kill me.’ Eddie groaned.

‘What did you do?’ You say glaring at him.

‘Before I tell you remember I didn’t know all this. So anyway, I stopped at Family Video to pick up some movies because I knew bad movies would cheer you up and Steve was working and he asked if I’d heard from you this morning and I said you were at my trailer and you seemed pretty upset.’ Eddie handed the plate of food to you, giving you a sorry smile.

‘Great.’ You say sarcastically as you start eating. You didn’t realise just how hungry you were and you ate the plate of food in front of you pretty fast. Once you finished you walked over to the sink, placing your plate down before sitting back on the couch. You sat in silence while Eddie finished up the food he had. He got up, placing his own plate in the sink before disappearing into his bedroom for a moment. He came back out, dragging his duvet and tossing it over you. You adjusted it over yourself as Eddie walked over to his TV, placing a video in.

‘Shitty B-horrors coming up.’ Eddie says sitting down next to you, pulling the duvet over himself. You adjust yourself on the couch, snuggling into Eddie’s side who wrapped his arm around you. You tried to focus on the movie but all you could think about was Steve.

‘I just don’t understand.’ You whimpered out, feeling tears fall from your eyes again.

‘Don’t understand what?’ Eddie asked.

‘Last night he was telling me how he wanted to be with me for months and this morning he was telling me it was a mistake. Why would he do that?’

‘Because he’s Steve Harrington. I mean I know he’s not the same person he was a few years ago but maybe there’s still some ‘King Steve’ leftover.’ Eddie shrugs and you give him a look.

‘Was that meant to make me feel better?’

‘I’m telling the truth. It’s not your fault that he is a massive douche.’ Eddie fluffs your hair as you let out a massive yawn. ‘Tired, huh?’

‘Tired and hungover.’ You say closing your eyes. ‘I didn’t get much sleep last night.’ Eddie snorts at your comment.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up all night then.’ Eddie said, wriggling underneath you.

‘Shut up and stop moving. Pillows are meant to be still.’ You mumble shutting your eyes.

‘If you weren’t so sad right now I’d been offended by that comment.’ You laughed slightly but kept your eyes shut, dozing off.

You woke up alone to mumbled voices outside, and it felt like a repeat of earlier. You sat up and rubbed your face slightly. You couldn’t hear what was being said but you knew it sounded like an argument which meant you were pretty sure you knew who was outside. You stood up and opened the door your suspicion was confirmed when you saw Steve stood there.

‘There is no way you're ever talking to her.’ Eddie said standing between Steve and the trailer door.

‘Eddie.’ You say grabbing his arm. ‘It’s okay, give us five minutes.’

‘Alright, I’ll be right inside so just shout if you need me.’ Eddie said walking inside. You sat down on the steps of the trailer and Steve sat down next to you.

‘You left your jacket.’ Steve said handing it over to you. You almost laughed, he came here just to return your jacket. You dug into your pocket and grabbed out the cigarettes you kept in there, lighting one up.

‘So I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?’ Steve finally spoke. You hummed in agreement as you took a drag from your cigarette. ‘Look I didn’t mean what I said this morning. I was just freaked out.’

‘Am I meant to believe that?’ You don’t look at him when you sleep.

‘It’s the truth. Besides, you agreed with me so you also lied.’ He pointed out.

‘What was I meant to say?’ You snap finally looking at him. ‘Look I’ve never really cared about losing my virginity, I wasn’t saving it for anyone special or anything like that but being told I was a mistake didn’t make me exactly feel great.’

‘I- wait you were a virgin?’ Steve looked at you with shock.

‘Who would I have slept with? The only time guys ever hit on me is because they assumed I was into kinky shit.’ You shrug.

‘I don’t know, someone.’

‘Why did you say that?’ You asked looking back down at your hands.

‘Umm, Nancy had heard that you and me were at that party and so she came over and started asking all these questions about us and I just freaked. She always fucks with my head and I get all confused and flustered. So I lied but it was just a momentary lapse of judgement because I do like you, a lot and I have for a while, I just never said anything because of the whole thing with Robin and Eddie.’

‘What thing with Robin and Eddie?’

‘Oh, I figured Eddie would’ve told you with how pissed he is with me. Well, remember how you couldn’t make it to that movie night like a month ago because of food poisoning? I told Eddie and Robin I was going to ask you on a date the next time I saw you and they asked me not to. Something about ruining our friend group.’

‘What?’ You nearly yelled. Great, now not only were you pissed with Steve but Eddie and Robin. What gave them the right to decide things about your relationships without you?

‘Don’t be mad at them, they just wanted to keep things the same. But now that it’s out I guess it doesn’t matter. So what do you say? Will you give me another chance?’ Steve reaches out and grabs your hand but you pull it away.

‘I think you need to figure your shit out before we date.’ You throw your cigarette on the ground and walk back inside seeing Eddie sitting on the couch.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Eddie asks and you just glare at him.

‘I only came in here to get a ride because I am unbelievably pissed at you.’ You say with your arms crossed.

‘Me? What did I do?’ Eddie said clearly confused.

‘You told Steve not to ask me out. What give you the right to make decisions about my life?’ You snap.

‘I was just trying to protect you. Plus shouldn’t you be mad at Steve, not me?’

‘I can be plenty mad at you both. Now please take me home.’ You walk back outside and stand by Eddie’s van just wanting to go home.

A few days later and you parked on Main Street. You and Eddie both jump out of your car.

‘You get the movie, I’ll get snacks.’ You tell him before walking off to the grocery store. You had mostly forgiven Eddie at this point and you were getting ready for your weekly movie night with Steve and Robin. You hadn’t seen Steve since that day and you were slightly nervous for tonight. You didn’t know what would happen but you couldn’t imagine it would be anything other than uncomfortable. You grabbed a bunch of snacks and a few frozen pizzas before heading up to pay and walking back to your car. Eddie arrived at the car just after you holding up a movie.

‘Gremlins. Definitely not romantic just like you requested.’

‘Good choice. I got popcorn, some candy and two pizzas; plain and veggie.’ You say as you climb in the car, throwing the bag in the backseat.

‘No pepperoni? But that’s my favourite.’ He pouts as he climbs into the passenger seat.

‘Well, I’m still mad at all three of you so we get my favourite pizzas.’ You point out.

‘I’ve told you I’m sorry.’

‘I know and I’ve mostly forgiven you.’ You tell him as you pull out of the spot and towards your house.

Robin and Steve show up a few hours later, just as you’ve finished cooking the pizza. You place it on the coffee table and start up the movie, sitting down on the couch next to Eddie while Steve and Robin both sat on the other couch. You nibble at the pizza not really focusing on the movie, instead focusing on the tension in the air and the feeling of Steve’s eye boring into the side of your head. You had only said hi to him and that had been it. Maybe it was a bad idea to have a movie night less than a week after the two of you had slept together.

You all finished the pizza around half an hour into the movie and you got up, practically jumping at the chance to leave the room. You take the plates through to the kitchen before grabbing the popcorn and placing it on the stove.

‘Hey.’ You heard a voice say from behind you and jumped, turning around to see Robin standing there.

‘Oh, hey.’ You respond and turn back to the popcorn to make sure it doesn’t burn.

‘So, how’s it going?’ She asked rocking back and forth on her heels.

‘Alright.’ You reply you knew that there was an ulterior motive for this conversation and you wanted to know what it was.

‘So Steve really misses you. You should talk to him.’

‘I’m not ready yet, Robin.’ You tell her as the popcorn finishes popping. You take it off the stove and pour it into a bowl you had placed up on the side earlier.

‘But he’s really upset. It’s all he’s talked about for the past few days.’

‘You know it’s partly your fault right?’ You snap.

‘What?’ She said taken aback.

‘Yeah if you had never interfered in the first place then things could’ve been completely different so maybe stop interfering cause it’s clearly not working out.’ You storm out of the kitchen heading up the stairs into your room, slamming the door behind you and flopping down on your bed, burying your face in the pillow and screaming. You knew you shouldn’t have snapped but you were just so tired.

A few moments later you heard a knock on your door.

‘Go away!’ You yelled, not getting up.

‘It’s me.’ Steve's voice is muffled through the door. You sit up but don’t go to open the door. ‘Please don’t be angry at Robin or Eddie. You can be angry at me, even hate me but they’ve done nothing wrong.’ Steve pauses for a moment but you still don’t open the door. ‘You know you’re all I’ve thought about for the last few days, actually, that’s a lie, it’s been months and you’ve been the only thing on my mind. I guess I was just scared that I was going to fuck it up, like I do everything in my life, which I did so guess I’ve stuck to that pattern. I mean all these nights are over now. Eddie’s pissed at me, you’re pissed at me and Robin so now it’s all ruined and it’s all my fault.’ At some point, while Steve was speaking you had gotten up off the bed and walked over to the door. You pulled it open and Steve fell into your room from where he was leaning against the door. He scrambled to get up off the floor and look at you. He had a sad look on his face, tears were welling in his eyes and you wanted to reach out to him but decide against it.

‘It’s not all ruined now and I’m not angry at Robin. I shouldn’t have snapped at her. Also, I’m not angry at you. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now.’

‘I spoke to Nancy the second after I left Eddie’s trailer. I told her that I wasn’t going to put up with her playing around anymore and that I wanted to be with you. I told her that you’re the only girl for me and I was going to do whatever I could to prove that to you. Unless you aren’t interested then I’ll leave you alone.’ Steve panicked and you reached out to him taking his face in your hands.

‘Of course, I’m interested Steve. I just- are you sure this is what you want?’

‘More sure than I have been about anything else.’ You smile slightly at his words and lean in, pressing your lips sweetly to his. You slipped your hands from his face to his neck and play with the ends of his hair and his hands plant themselves on your hips. You move even closer to him, pressing your body even closer to him. You start to move closer to your bed but Steve pulls away.

‘Wait. I want to take you out properly before we do anything. You deserve it.’ He kisses you softly on the nose and you blush at his words and actions.

‘Okay, yeah. I would like that.’ You smile slightly.

‘You free tomorrow?’

‘Yeah, I am.’

‘Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7 then.’ He gives you another kiss and you both smile, excited for tomorrow.

It was the next evening and Robin was helping you get ready. You had thought the others had left when you had gone upstairs last night but apparently, they had stayed, wanting to make sure you were okay. You had apologised to Robin who immediately forgave you which you were thankful for. They left pretty soon after, Robin agreeing that she’d come over before Steve picked you up.

‘Why am I helping you get ready again?’ Robin asked as you held up some tops.

‘Because I don’t know what we're doing and I know Steve told you today at work so it’s your job to make sure I don’t show up in a snowsuit to a beach date.’ You said as you dug through your wardrobe.

‘Do you even own a snowsuit? And Hawkins doesn’t have a beach unless you count the shore of Lover’s Lake which isn’t really a beach it’s more of a shoreline.’

‘Robin, I was being metaphorical, now is this acceptable?’ You hold up a tight maroon turtleneck jumper.

‘Yeah, I think so. To be honest you could show up in sweats and an old t-shirt and Steve would think you were the most beautiful girl in the world. I mean you know you’re one of my best friends but my god I was close to killing Steve if he didn’t stop talking about you. It was just Y/N this and Y/N that all day.’ You blush at her words. Had Steve really been talking about you all day? You turn your attention back to your wardrobe, grabbing the only pair of jeans you had that weren’t ripped.

‘Do I need a jacket?’ You ask Robin.

‘Umm, no. You shouldn’t.’ Robin said. Okay, so you weren’t doing anything outside. You grab a pair of boots with a small heel and slip on your outfit turning to face Robin.

‘How do I look? Do I need to change?’

‘You look fine. And I don’t think you have time to change.’ You glance at the clock and swear. It was 10 minutes until Steve arrived. Luckily you had put your makeup on earlier so you were pretty much ready but you still had to choose jewellery.

‘Are you sure I look good? Like would you go on a date with me in this?’ You ask panicking.

‘You’re going on a date with my best friend there is no way I’m answering that question.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’ You say digging through your jewellery box.

‘I told you, you like fine. Steve is going to swoon when he sees you.’ You finish doing up your jewellery and sigh, checking your hair one last time in the mirror.

‘Thank you for helping me out and I really am sorry for snapping at you.’

‘It’s alright and don’t worry about it.’ Just then you hear the doorbell ring and you launch out of your room, hoping to beat your mother to the door. You run down the stairs but by the time you get to the door your mom is already standing there, smiling at Steve who was holding two bouquets of flowers.

‘Hey, Mrs Y/L/N, I got these for you.’ He said handing her one of the bouquets. Your mom gushes about how sweet he was as you grab your bag off the table, walking towards Steve.

‘Hey.’ You smile at him. He also just wearing a jumper and jeans so you feel more comfortable in your outfit choice.

‘Wow, you look, wow.’ Steve said staring at you. ‘Oh, these are for you.’ Steve said handing you the other bouquet and you feel your heart flutter. No one had ever bought you flowers before.

‘I’ll go put these in water for you.’ Your mom said taking them from you. ‘Have a good time.’ She gave you a hug and walked through to the kitchen as Robin pushed past you and Steve who were just staring at each other.

‘I’ll see you two dingus later.’ She waved at the two of you.

‘Wait, I can give you a ride home.’ Steve said snapping his attention away from you.

‘I live like 4 houses down Steve, I’m fine.’ She pointed out.

‘Right, yeah, sorry, I just wasn’t thinking.’ Steve rubbed the back of his neck as she rolled her eyes, walking away.

‘We should also get going.’ You tell him, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind you. You both walk over to Steve’s car, Steve opening the passenger door for you as you climb in.

‘Suck up.’ You joke once he’s in the car.

‘What do you mean?’ He said, looking over at you.

‘Buying my mom flowers. What’s next, getting my dad basketball tickets?’

‘So your dad likes basketball huh? Well lucky you’re dating a basketball star.’ You laugh at his words. The two of you chat as Steve drives along. He eventually pulls up in front of his house and you look at him with confusion.

‘We’re having our date at your house?’ You ask.

‘Just wait and see.’ Steve gets out of the car and rushes round to your side before you can open the door yourself. You both walk up to the front door and Steve tells you to wait outside while he finishes setting up. You sat on the doorstep for a few minutes until Steve appears back at the door, ushering you in.

‘Okay close your eyes.’ He smiled at you and you shake your head but do as he asks. He takes your hands and leads you through the house with your eyes closed. He stops walking and tells you to open your eyes. You do so and look around; you’re in the living room but all the furniture has been pushed to the side and a picnic blanket is in the middle of the floor. There are candles lit everywhere and food on the blanket.

‘Wait, is this because of the time I mentioned that we should all have a picnic with a bunch of kids' food?’ You ask him as you realise what food there is.

‘Yeah, I didn’t have much time to plan anything especially as I was working so I sort of stole your idea.’ He said, ushering you to sit down which you did.

‘I didn’t think you remembered that.’ You admit.

‘I remember everything you’ve told me. Well, aside from that time you showed up to movie night in that really short skirt. I don’t remember anything anyone said that night.’ You laugh, throwing a fry at his head and calling him a pervert. The two of you sat around laughing and joking while you ate. You were genuinely happy with Steve and your heart was constantly fluttering when you looked at him.

‘When is it you’re moving away?’ Steve eventually asks as you near the end of the food and your heart sinks, you had forgotten that the two of you would be long-distance soon.

‘Umm end of August, we’ve got a place, just waiting on hearing the move-in date.’ You scratch your head as you speak. ‘You better come visit every weekend.’ You joke.

‘About that, I haven’t told anyone else this, mainly because I only found out recently but I’m moving to Indianapolis too.’ You look directly at him. He was moving?

‘You’re moving?’ You ask in shock.

‘Yeah, I got my acceptance letter to college last week. It's just community college, nothing special but with everyone else moving away I figured I try again.’

‘That’s great, Steve.’ You say as you throw your arms around him with a huge grin on your face. You were happy both because you knew how important it was for Steve to have gotten into college and that the two of you would be in the same city next year.

‘It’s really not that big a deal.’ Steve hugged you back rubbing your back.

‘It is. I’m so excited for you.’ You pull away slightly so you could look at him.

‘Yeah well, I hope you don’t get bored of me now.’ He jokes.

‘You can sleep in Eddie’s bed when I do.’ You joke back, pulling away from the hug between the two of you to take a sip of your drink.

‘God, I am completely stuffed.’ Steve said stretching his arms over his head. As he stretch his jumper rode up slightly revealing the scars from the demobat attack. You hadn’t noticed them last time, probably a combination of the darkness and being drunk, but they were on display now. Before you could stop yourself you reached your hand out to touch them, causing Steve to flinch away from your touch. You apologised, feeling guilty that you touch them without asking.

‘It’s okay. It’s just that no one’s ever seen them before.’

‘Can I see them?’ You ask cautiously. You understand that what your asking is a big ask which is why you're careful, making sure Steve knows he can say no.

‘Yeah, yeah of course.’ You reach over, pulling up Steve’s jumper so you can see the scarred skin. They were still slightly red and raised even though they had fully healed. You reached your hand up, looking at Steve, asking for permission. He nodded slightly and you bought your hand over his stomach, feeling the raised skin.

‘Yeah, looks like I’ve lost any chance of becoming a swimsuit model.’ Steve jokes as you focus on his scars.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ You said mesmerised by his scars. The scars didn’t take away from his looks, if anything they added to it. It showed his bravery and his need to protect those he cares about. You lean down, pressing a kiss to his torso. Steve let out a quiet groan as you pressed kisses to his scars.

‘Y/N, fuck if you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.’ He moans out. You pull yourself up, placing your hands on Steve’s legs as you knelt in between them. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, before leaning back down, scooting yourself back and kissing his stomach again. You scooted yourself backwards slightly so you were laying on your stomach. You move your hands from Steve’s thighs to his crotch.

‘Can I suck you off?’ You said, looking up at him.

‘Can you- fuck you don’t even have to ask.’ You moved your hands to undo his jeans, pulling them down slightly so you could see his boxers. You bent down, kissing his cock through his boxers. You could feel how hard he was through his boxers and it made you wet to think about how this was the effect you had on him. You move your head back up to kiss the bottom of his stomach as your fingers hooked into the top of his boxers, pulling them down so you could see his cock. You look down at it and knew you wouldn’t be able to fit it all in your mouth, hell you weren’t even sure you be able to fit the tip in with how thick he was but you would try. You leant down pressing kisses to his entire shaft, making sure to give his whole cock your attention. You move your head even further down to press more kisses to his balls as Steve moaned out. His noises only encouraged you as you brought your hand up to his cock, pumping it up and down as your mouth continued to suck and lick at his balls.

‘Baby, I need your mouth on my cock.’ Steve whined out and you obliged, licking up the big vein on the underside. You lick his tip, taking his precum into your mouth before you take him into your mouth going as deep as you can. You can barely fit half of his cock into your mouth before you’re gagging. You use your hand to jerk the rest of his cock as you move your head up and down swirling your tongue around him. Steve moves one of his hands that was pressed into the carpet to support himself into your hair, gripping it tightly as he moaned beneath you.

‘Babe, god I’m so close.’ He whines out and you increase the speed of your hand. You take him as deep as you can your throat squeezing around his cock and he groaned out loudly, coming down your throat. You pulled off his cock as he lay down flat on the carpet, breathing heavily. You laugh slightly as you climb up to lie next to him, his arms wrapped around you.

‘There’s no way you’ve never done that before.’ Steve laughs out, pressing an open-mouth kiss to your mouth.

‘What can I say? I’m a natural.’ You smirk, throwing one of your legs over his. Steve recovered his breath and moved to flip you over so you were underneath him, lying on the floor. He moved his hands down to your jeans undoing them and pulling them down your legs along with your underwear.

‘I’m going to repay the favour, babe.’ He tells you, kissing your jaw. He moved his hand down, pushing your legs apart slightly before his fingers ran through your wetness, taking his hand up to his mouth and licking his fingers clean. You whined out as you watched him suck on his fingers. Steve moved his way down so his head was in between your legs. He kissed both your thighs slightly before focusing his attention on your core. He licked a few strips up your cunt before flicking his tongue up and down on your clit. You moaned out, wrapping your hands in his hair as he kept quickly moving his tongue on your clit. As you continued to cry out, he pulled his tongue away instead attaching his mouth to your clit.

‘Steve, don’t stop.’ You whine out. He sucked even harder, his tongue flicking slightly as he did so. He started to hum slightly, the vibrations making it even more pleasurable.

You quickly feel your orgasm build, gripping Steve's hair tightly as you moan out his name. Steve continues his assault on your clit, as you cry out, your back arching off the ground to feel even more of his mouth on you.

‘Fuck, Steve, I’m coming.’ You yell out as your orgasm washes over you. You continue to come in waves as Steve slows down his movements helping you ride out your orgasm as he licks you clean. He eventually pulls away from you, repositioning himself so he was hovering over you, kissing you heavily.

‘Do you want to go upstairs?’ He asks after he pulls away, playing with a strand of your hair.

‘Yeah, let’s go.’ You nod. Steve stands up, helping you up before leading you up the stairs and back into his bedroom.

You woke up in Steve’s bed alone again. You immediately sit up panicking that you were experiencing a repeat of the last time you were here. You get up, considering grabbing a pair of trousers but deciding that shirt Steve had given you covered your underwear enough, heading downstairs. You look around finding Steve standing in the kitchen in his boxers, his back turned to you as he cooked up some food. You immediately relaxed as you saw him standing there, listening to his humming. You move towards Steve, wrapping your arms around Steve’s waist from behind. He jumps slightly before relaxing, turning around and wrapping his arms around you.

‘Hey beautiful, I was wanting to bring you some breakfast.’ He said pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

‘That’s sweet.’ You smile nuzzling your head into his shoulder. ‘Your hair looks good in the morning.’ You tell him. You like his hair as it was, completely unstyled and messy.

‘All of you looks good in the morning.’ He pulled away from you, turning back to the food in front of him. He finished cooking it, plating it up and handing it over to you. You both sat at the kitchen island eating your food and chatting. Once you finished, Steve picked up the plates and dumped them into the sink.

‘You know I don’t have work today, right?’ Steve pointed out. ‘Let’s go back to bed.’ He said placing his hands on your hips.

‘You, Steve Harrington, are a horndog.’ You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

‘I can’t help it. I mean look at you.’ Steve pulls you closer, tightening his grip on your hips.

‘So no regrets then?’ You smiled slightly.

‘No regrets.’ He confirmed, leaning down to kiss you.

—————

Taglist:

@selfdeprecatingnerd @shireentapestry

#steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve x reader #stranger things smut #joe keery smut #joe keery x reader #joe keery

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basicallyjustmuggleremuslupin · 2 years

Note

one last question-

The sky is falling, our world as we know it is crumbling at your feet- two people stand before you. only one of them you can alert to the issue and save. The first is a man, he wears a dark trench coat and leather satchel bag. His eyes are hazel, complimenting curly back hair and a mocha skin tone perfectly. A tattoo traces down what you can see of this man's neck- music notes cascading out of view. There is sheet music poking out of his bag too, as you see upon further inspection. He has a kind smile but sad eyes, good posture and an infuriating cowlick. He loves his hand slowly and you notice the rings he carries as they clack together noisily, one on each finger. Different sizes and shapes, each one unique and alien to the next. The second is of undeterminable gender, their hair is short and choppy; as if cut blindfolded in the dark, and dyed an unfortunately bright shade of blue. Freckles and sea green eyes meet your gaze in a manner that would almost be cold if not for the fact that they are smiling brightly with so much joy that it borders on infectious. Piercings litter their pale face, nose, eyebrow, snake bite. Somehow, this person makes the metal fixtures look downright endearing. A scar runs down their neck, a remnant of a burn if you aren't mistaken, it disappears beneath the collar of their shirt and you forget the menacing demeanour in which it stood out instantly. Beneath a denim jacket adorned with many different pins and colourful badges, this person wears only brown corduroy trousers and an oversized sweater. That, too, seems strangely endearing.

(I did my best to sound like an NPC giving you a choice, okay?)

(also, yeah, person two is enby they/them I just didn't know how to put it)

sorry for the late answer, tbh i had to debate what i'm answering haha. yeah, i still don't know...

i would say that i'd just shout it out loud so that both of them hear it but i know that's not how this works. in reality i'd probably think about it too long (i can never make choices right away, especially not important ones) so that we'd all die together lmao. however, in theory, i kinda havevto choose. see, i usually don't have a huge problem with these 'moral dilemma' type of questions like for example the one with the train tracks where you can either save one person or 5 or something, because there i just always choose to save the most lives but here? it's one person or one other. damn, that sucks. also, i'm basically just sharing my thought process now bcs i don't know what to do haha

to skip me having the same thoughts over and over again, and to make it short: i believe if i HAD to choose one of the people to be saved, it's likely that i'd choose the first person. this is actually not an active choice and more of a 'what i know would happen' thing tho, bcs i'd find that person more attractive than the other and that's pretty much how the human brain works. psychology student here hehe. so yeah, basically that's the choice i would make without wanting to make a choice if that makes sense?

(also you did a great job, don't worry)

(haha don't worry about it, you expressed that in an understandable enough way)

#christ that was difficult #i'm still like 'i don't want to answer!'#but anyway #cay answers

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

HC: The Boys Taste Their S/o’s Chapstick

Anonymous: could I request headcannons for shinso, mirio, denki, sero, and bakugo kissing their s/o and tasting their chapstick ? Or if you want or when they realize their s/o takes care of them in really subtle ways that they didn’t really notice it at first ? i love your blog so much 🥺❤️

Hey babe omg Im so happy you like my blog!!!! Also this ask OMG I have been wanting to write it for so long!!!! Im a sucker for these super cute and fluffy headcanons, so thank you so much for the idea!

Pairings: Shinso x reader, Mirio x reader, Denki x reader, Sero x reader, Bakugo x reader

Warnings: some might get suggestive, but none of these are full blown NSFW! Just a sprinkle of spiciness, thats all!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

S H I N SO U

Flavor: Cherry Vanilla

Your currently trying to get ready for bed with Shinsou, his purple hair cascading against the pillow as he’s scrolling through Insta

defintely looking at cat vids

Youre just BEAT from the day- work, school, practice, whatever your life entails it just felt so incredibly tiring today

Of course, Shinsou seems to have other plans

Once he sees you come out of the bathroom, your hair wet, your skin dewy from washing, your body only wearing one of his oversized shirts and some small shorts....

man is gonna wanna be allllll over you

“Damn, kitten who allowed you to look that hot,” he’d purr, his eyes drinking you in as he propped his body on his elbows to get a better look

You’d roll your eyes, a smile on your lips-

Lowkey a perv for his s/o fight me on this

Once you sit down on the bed, its over

Shinso’s hands are all over you, his palms trailing under your shirt as he leaved lazy kisses on your neck

“Cmon, baby, lets have a little fun before we sleep....”

Just tell him your tired, and he’ll comply, turning super fluffy and cuddly in a matter of minutes

Reluctantly tho this boi is horny when hes horny

“Ahh my kitten’s tired? Fine then, you need your rest.”

He’ll lean in to give a sweet kiss, unknowingly of how flavorful you taste now with your chapstick

And OHOHOHO after that its OVER

The taste of vanilla bursts in his mouth, the scent of cherry becoming more prominent-

When did you start tasting so good?

He honestly wont know how to react- he’ll shake his head and blink a few times, “The hell-?” spilling out of his lips

He grabs you buy the chin, his thumb swiping against your lips gently

Once he sees the faint red sheen on his digit, it kinda dawns on him whats going on

You catch on to his confusion, a small giggle spilling out of you as you tell him its just chapstick you bought since your lips felt dry

He’ll just give you a lazy smirk, his lilac eyes a royal purple as he eyes you

This man cant HELP HIMSELF

He’ll lean in for another kiss, this one lasting much longer and more passionate as he tried to capture that taste again

“Do me a favor and keep wearing that kitten,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

M I R I O

Flavor: Birthday Cake

Im so proud of fidning this picture im sorry it just matches so well

Anywaysssssssss

You had just gotten out of the locker room, your UA uniform a little wrinkled from being balled up while you were training

You walked out the metal doors, your lips feeling much softer than usual- you were in desperate need of chapstick after that particular lesson

Thanks UA for having training grounds that blow up every 5 seconds and spray dust everywhere

But thankfully Neijire is the best person ever and hooked you up with some super cute chapstick

Since it was new and just sitting in her book bag, she just told you to keep it

NEIJIRE WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO SWEET?

You had to admit though, you really liked it- the packaging was pretty cute, it was nice on your skin, but the SMELL

OMG

You felt like a bakery was near you every step you took

And everytime you licked your lips it tasted like sweets, which was an amazing addition

Makes ya wonder how safe it is to consume makeup 👀

Mirio is the cutest boyfirend though-wherever your class is, he waits for you outside and walks with you until you have to go your seperate ways

So, as usual, he’s waiting for you outside the locker room, a wide grin plastered on his face

Once he sees you walk out of the doors, he’s already bounding over, his arms swinging cause hes always just so happy to see you

“Hey sunshine!” he greets you like any other day, his voice just radiating happiness

Some days though, Mirio will kiss the top of your head as he grabs your hand and walks you to his class

Other days, he’s a little more bold, instead leaning down to give you a kiss on your lips as he snakes his hand around your waist

TODAY BABE

IS THAT DAY

You can tell he’s feeling a little more *frisky cause he’s got this mischievous glint in his eyes

ehhhh why not indulge him?

So you get on your tippie toes, leaning in to him and planting a quick kiss on his lips

But thats when Mirio gets confused- did you eat something?Is it cake? CInnamon roll? Cookie? But whatever it is, it tastes GOOD

“Sweetie, did you buy something from the vending machine?” he asks, a confused grin on his face as he eyes you

You laugh, not realizing that Mirio would be affected by your new chapstick too,

“Oh no, its just a chapstick Niejire gave me, I think its cake batter flavored- do you like it?”

Mirio licked his lips , savoring the lingering flavor on his skin

“You batter belive it!”

*cue the groaning

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

D E N K I

Flavor: Pina Colada

So Mina, bless her little music crazed heart, somehow won a pack of tickets from a radio station to a new water park opening up not too far from UA

It was superrrrr expensive to get in, but the music station hooked all you guys up with VIP tickers, a private cabana, food, THE WORKS

You had been running around with the group all day

(except Bakugo- he either went to the lazy river or the surfing simulator thignie cause Kaminari said he would wipe out and wanted to prove him wrong)

Everybody else wanted to do everythingggg, from ride the craziest rides to trying all the food the park had

By the end of the day, you were completely beat and just wanted to rest

Mina was sitting beside you in the cabana (again, thank you radio station for hooking some teens up!), just searching it for snacks the boys hadnt eaten

“Aww cmon, really?! We have chapstick but no food?!”

Your head instantly perked up at the sound- chapstick? God, you could deifnitely use some right now from all that chlorine and sun...

You asked Mina to toss you one, the pink skinned girl throwing you a tube as she grumbled about how “piggy” boys were

You checked the flavor on the tube, the fruits on the side label instantly telling you it was something tropical

As you were putting it on, the boys of Bakusquad were bounding up the steps, their feets covered in sand-

“Guess what?! We got Bakugo to go in the wave pool! Isnt that crazy! It had sand on the bottom, like a real beach-”

Kirishima was just gushing and super excited, Bakugo looking like a pissed off wet cat next to him

You sat up quickly, happy to see your boyfriend, his spiky hair all wet from the day and his boxers dripping

As Kirishima and Sero were messing with an extremely annoyed Bakugo, you went and grabbed the boys some towels, giving the last one to your boyfriend

“Aww thanks babe,” he gushed out, his hands grabbing the towel gingerly as he leaned to kiss you

But wait- you tasted- really sweet?

Kaminari pulled back slightly, a small smirk on his lips, cause damn, that tasted really good

“Did you eat some fruit or something? Cause you taste super yummy babe-”

You pointed to your lips as you told him how Mina found some free chapstick lying around in the cabana

Kaminari just gave you this really blissed out stare as he sneaked one more peck from you- he was kinda wishing his friends weren't here, cause hed totally be making out with you with that yummy stuff on your lips...

“Do me a favor and dont take that stuff off, okay? Until we get back to the dorms,”

He sent you a small wink, weaving behind you inconspicously, and giving your bottom a playful pinch

WHY YOU GOTTA BE A FLIRT KAMINARI

(Also before you left Kamianri most definitely dumped the whole jar of chapsticks into his backpack)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

S E R O

Flavor: Peppermint

You and Sero had just gotten coffee from a little cafe when it starts to rain

Like alottttttttttt

And of course it happens when your right outside, waiting for your ride to take you back home

So you two are just standing there like weirdos with the rain POURING, Sero holding up his jacket over both of your heads

But honestly, it’s not doing much to block out the rain, so honestly-why not have some fun?

You run out of the fabric, instantly feeling your whole body get drenched as you start twirling and laughing

“He-hey wait, babe!”

Sero’s gonna be laughing, and now y’all playing a wierd game of tag

Aghhhhhh so cute tho 🥺🥺

He catches you pretty quickly, his tape grabbing your waist and pulling you to him,,,

You instantly collide with his chest, your cheeks rosy from running around so much and your hands resting on his chest

Sero gives you the biggest grin, his finger under your chin and raising it to look at him

“You know your the biggest tease I know?”

“Yup!”

He laughs, placing a kiss on your lips-and omg why are you minty? and it feels soooo good to him, cause honestly mint isn’t a bad flavor-

“Hey babe whatcha got on your lips? Did you eat-gum or something?”

You just laugh and tell him it’s some chapstick you got (imagine the mint eos U KNOW THE ONE)

He asks if it’s the egg chapstick OML 💀

Yes Sero the egg chapstick

His lips are parted a little, his eyes wider than usual cause he’s lowkey confused on how he liked that so much

But he send you another huge grin before he kisses you again-

“I think your gonna need to wear that more for me, yeah?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

B A K U G O

Flavor: Cinnamon

Bakugo has ben practically forcing you to wake up at ungodly hours with him to train

He says its cause “youre getting weak” but really he’s a total simp for having such close contact with you

Also he’s a little brat and put his all into it so you cant ever beat him, which boosts his ego for some reason?

“Hah, that really the best you got?” he scoffs down at you, his calloused hands pinning you to the ground as his body cages you in for the umpteenth time

Honestly, its hard to fight when your 1) annoyed about loosing and 2) have your hot as hell boyfriend pining you to the ground

But thankfully

THANKFULLY

He was starting to overheat, his breathe coming out in low pants as strands of hair began sticking to his forehead

You felt one of his palms begin to slip ever so slightly near you, and on instinct you knew you had to do something, you finally had an opening-

so you caused a distraction

Your hands quickly flew to the nape of his neck, pressing his head down to your so you could kiss him square on the lips

Bakugo was completely confused in the best way possible- he didnt expect that to happen, but hell, hes not complaining-

until his lips start to tingle

“-the hell?!” he sputters out, his mind trying to figure out what was going on just before you successfuly flip him over, with you now on top

You stared down triumphantly at your boyfriend, not knowing how well that worked- until you noticed how shiny Bakugo lips look

He begins mashing his lips together, trying to rub it off since you had his hands pinned down

“The hell is on my lips? Agh, dont tell me its that weird ass lip stuff that supposed to make your lips bigger or something-’’

Ummmmm how does he know about lip plumping lip gloss? Question for a another day-

“Its chapstick silly,” you giggle, “-cinnamon”

Honestly, he’s gonna like it-this boy likes spicy things and the fact that “spicy” sensation came from his s/o....shoooottttt he is in love

But

Of course

He’s gonna act like it’s wierd or something, cause HES wierd

“Cinnamon? You couldn’t get something normal like cherry or grape?”

You scrunch up your nose, cause yeah your not for those flavors AT ALL, and Bakugo finds his chance

He quickly flips you over, your back now against the floor and his body on top of yours

“Cmon, baka don’t tell me thats seriosuly all you got-“

Don’t remind him that you were able to flip him over tho he’ll turn red and tell you to shut it

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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bubblesuga · 3 years

Text

Mahina || Part 1

Summary: Jungkook couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something drawing him to you. Like the moon tugs at the tides, he needed to be beside you. genre: smut, fluff, angst word count: 4,626 tags: idol!au, fantasy!au

When Jungkook awoke this morning, something was... different.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the air in his room seemed to have shifted slightly. He felt lighter on his feet, a sudden bounce to his step while he pulled himself off of the bed and towards the bathroom.

He brushes his teeth as usual, carefully scrubbing his tongue and admiring his reflection in the mirror. The eyebrow piercing was a good edition, he thinks. It accentuates his high brow and sparkles underneath even the dimmest light. Spritzing himself with cologne, he opens the bathroom door just in time.

"Jungkook, I made breakfast! Hurry up!"

Smiling to himself, he trots down the stairs of the far too large penthouse he and his band mates bought a couple years ago. He doesn't mind sharing with 6 other people, though. Having grown up with no siblings, he enjoys the dynamics at play when he speaks to the members. They're all his brothers, co-workers, family... He couldn't have asked for a better turn out when it came to finding a career path.

Yoongi is standing in the kitchen when Jungkook walks in, the smell of pork and kimchi filling his nose. Thanking his hyung, he grabs a bowl and starts filling up.

"You seem happy this morning," Yoongi raises an eyebrow, "what's going on?"

"I don't know," Jungkook shrugs, "I just woke up in a really good mood. I feel like--" he takes a bit of his food, then speaks with his mouth full, "--something amazing is going to happen today."

"We just have rehearsals?" Yoongi's statement comes off as more of a question.

"Exactly." Jungkook says, continuing to munch on his food. Yoongi looks at the younger man and shakes his head, continuing to fry meat for the rest of the members.

"Hey, did Namjoon come home last night?" Seokjin asks as he walks into the kitchen. He takes a spot beside Jungkook on the counter, reaching into his bowl and grabbing a piece of pork belly. Jungkook attempts to push his hand away but Seokjin smacks it and grabs the meat anyway.

Yoongi shakes his head again, "Nah. He stayed at the studio last night, said something about a last minute inspiration."

Jungkook has noticed Namjoon's lack of attentiveness recently. It seems as though his head is always filled with potential themes and lyrics and beats, much more so than even in the early days of the band. He's curious about his inspiration as of late but Namjoon doesn't seem to want to give away his methods any time soon.

"He's been doing that a lot lately." Jungkook thinks outloud.

"More power to him," Seokjin says, "man works his ass off and it benefits all of us."

Yeah, it definitely does.

~*~*~

"5, 6, 7-"

Hoseok's counting is cut off by the music blasting again. It's the third run through of the new choreography, Jungkook is center and carefully watches the rest of his hyungs in the mirror. He moves to the left, following Hoseok's lead and smiling as he notices a mis-step on Jimin's part. Jimin throws his head back and yells, lifting his shirt up and wiping some of the sweat that's accumulated on his brow.

"It's okay, Jiminie," Hoseok sings, "this shit is hard."

Seokjin nods in agreement, "Yeah, what the hell happened to a laid back choreography for this come back?"

"It's the last one of the year. We gotta go out with a bang." Jungkook turns back to look at Namjoon, who chugs water in the corner of the room. "Speaking of big come backs, are you working on your mixtape?"

Namjoon laughs, "Nah, definitely not. I'm trying to get a couple more songs for the album."

"Don't we have like 14 tracks?" Taehyung speaks for the first time since rehearsal started.

"16 is better than 14." Namjoon smiles, listening to Hoseok as he calls everyone over again.

"One more time. 5, 6-"

It's then that the doors burst open and Hyun enters in. "And this is the rehearsal room containing the 7 men you will be photographing."

Jungkook's eyes travel to the person his manager is talking to, and he has to hold back a gasp. He feels the way his jaw drops, but he's unable to close his mouth while he looks at you. God, you're gorgeous. Your hair cascades down your back and your clothes cling to your body in all the right ways. Jungkook struggles to tear his eyes away, but once he sees your smile he realizes there's no way he can turn away. You're literally glowing, with god-like shining eyes. Who are you?

"Boys, this is _____. She's in charge of photography and will be around to film Bangtan Bombs, behind the scenes, or anything you all want filmed and made into content."

Jungkook repeats your name in his head five times. He whispers it to himself once while everyone else heads to you to shake your hand. Jungkook stands back, finally blinking his eyes.

You step forward after having shook the hands of everyone else, "And you're Jungkook," you smile again, "I like your tattoos. Glad you're finally willing to show them."

"T- tattoos..." Jungkook mutters pathetically as he takes your outstretched hand. You giggle, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

"Well, anyway. It was nice to meet you all. I'm excited to work closely with every one of you." your words are met with a chorus of 'same!' from everyone except for Jungkook.

Hyun puts a hand on your shoulder and leads you out of the room, continuing on the tour of the HYBE building. Jungkook stares after you, the doorway now long empty but he couldn't look away. You were, by far, the most beautiful woman he has ever come across. With your simple torn jeans and black t-shirt, he feels you could pull off anything you put on your body.

It's not until Yoongi speaks does Jungkook finally tear his eyes away, "Could you have been any creepier?"

"What?"

Jimin bursts into laughter, his frustration with the choreography long gone, "You were-" he takes a deep breath in between laughter, "you were staring at her like she was the last woman on the planet!"

"W- what?" Jungkook stammers.

Jimin doesn't respond, only laughing louder as he falls to the ground. Jungkook can see the hidden smirks of the rest of the members, turning his to look at everyone, "What the fuck just happened?"

"Love at first sight?" Taehyung suggests.

"More like love at first drool." Seokjin begins laughing before he even finishes his sentence, causing the rest of the members to groan at his joke.

Jungkook doesn't react to Seokjin though, as he turns to look back at the empty doorway. If love at first sight is a real thing, Jungkook just experienced it to the fullest extent.

~*~*~

Jungkook manages to continue the rest of rehearsal without a problem, except for the way his mind kept traveling back to you. Saying your name in his head again, he washes up in the gym showers. He thinks back to the way your skin seemed to be literally glowing to him, and your bright white teeth hypnotizing him.

Never in his life has he had such a short conversation with someone that had such an impact. He wants to learn everything about you, your passions, the music you like, the books you read. He hopes that you enjoy some of the same things he does, so he has an excuse to talk to you.

Though his interest in you is certainly piqued, he has to keep in mind that you are, essentially, his employee, and fantasizing about your employee is more than inappropriate.

Fantasizing might not be the right word, but he can't help and imagine conversations between the two of you. Your voice is so pretty, it's light but carries through the room. You make sure your presence is known, though with the way you shine you didn't have to try hard. He smiles to himself, closing his eyes and rinsing off the conditioner from hair. Then, he wonders what your hair looks like when it's wet.

Okay, Jungkook. That's enough.

He shakes the water off his head and wraps a towel around his body. Exiting the shower, he realizes he forgot his bag in the dance room and sighs. Checking the time on his phone, he realizes that it's after 9 pm. The odds of anyone other than the members being here is pretty slim so he can just walk his way to the rehearsal room and change in there, right?

Right.

Tightening the towel around his waist, he walks out of the gym bathroom and strolls down the hall. He scrolls through his phone while he walks, rounding the corner and hearing your voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Lee. I'm very excited to properly start tomorrow."

"We're excited to have you," Jungkook peeks his head around the corner and watches Hyun bow to you, "your work is incredible and I know Taehyung in particular loves your shooting style."

What? Taehyung knows her? Jungkook must have missed that earlier when he couldn't stop staring at you.

"Yeah! It still blows my mind that one of the bangtan boys followed my work," you let out a small, somewhat embarrassed giggle, "thank god for Instagram."

You and Hyun share a laugh, followed by a goodbye. Jungkook gasps as he sees you turn in his direction, rushing to a small doorway and pushing himself up against the wall. You can't see him like this, not already. He's nearly naked and he knows this towel isn't big enough to cover himself as well as he should in front of a stranger, so he holds his breath as your foot steps become closer... and closer... and-

"Hey Jungkook."

Fuck.

Jungkook exhales a breath and moves to tighten the towel around his waist even more. You're eyes are not scanning his body like he thought you would be. Of course, Jungkook knows that sounds cocky of him to say but he can't help but assume that that would be the outcome of this situation. Either way, his face still burns when your eyes meet his. Those gorgeous, glowing eyes.

"Were ya hiding?" you laugh, tilting your head to the side, and Jungkook realizes that he's still pressed up against the wall.

"I- I, uh-" come on Jungkook, get it together, "Sorry. I didn't want you to see me naked."

"Oh please. When humans are naked, they're at their purest forms. It's natural, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." you smile brightly, moving a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. Your phrasing is odd, but he doesn't question it. Instead, he swallows, "You're right, but I'm sure you wouldn't have been okay with my dick just hangin' out. Neither would the security watching the cameras."

You laugh, a proper laugh that doesn't seem to be masked by something else, and Jungkook realizes it's melodic. A fine tune singing into his ears as one of the most beautiful songs he has ever heard. It's soft, breathy, and makes him want to make you laugh for the rest of eternity.

"Either way," you say after a moment, the hint of humor still in your voice, "nothing to be ashamed of. I'll see you tomorrow, Jungkook."

Jungkook tilts his head, watching you wave and waving back as you carry your feet towards the elevators.

~*~*~

The air was even lighter this morning, and Jungkook can't help but think you play a part in his bright mood.

Following the conversation yesterday, Jungkook walked with a grin on his face to grab his clothes. You're incredibly charismatic, an stark difference to Jungkook's usual shy and laid back personality. Despite your conversations together being minimal, Jungkook feels you and him are going to be close.

Jungkook hops out of bed and styles his hair carefully. Checking his phone as he brushes his teeth, he's received a text from Taehyung apologizing because he had already left. The house sounds still, he remembers Yoongi and Seokjin opted at staying at their respective apartments tonight, wanting to be a little closer to home. Namjoon probably stayed at the studio again and Jimin and Hoseok more than likely left with Taehyung. He shrugs, making a quick protein shake and grabbing a banana before heading out of the door.

As he drives to work, he makes note at how much more productive the members have been these days. Not that they never were, but the usual slump of exhaustion that follows months of continuous promotions, rehearsals, and recording doesn't seem to be hitting anyone this time around. Surely, the explanation is the high everyone is riding from the success of Butter and Permission To dance in the west. It's motivated everyone, including Jungkook himself.

He pulls into the parking garage, rides the elevator up to the 13th floor, and steps off only to be stopped by Hoseok.

"Jungkookie!" Hoseok wraps his arms around Jungkook's neck and squeezes him tight.

"Hoseokie!" Jungkook mocks, giving a pat to the older one's back. Hoseok pulls away with a chuckle, "I guess _____ is doing behind the scene shoots today. Something about wanting to catch us in our element."

"Oh? Like individual shoots?"

"Yeah," he smiles, "she's with Yoongi in his studio right now. She told me to tell everyone to choose a thing they do on a daily basis that might be interesting to see for ARMY."

"Should I work out?" Jungkook smirks. Hoseok rolls his eyes, patting Jungkook's pecs,

"You work out enough." Smiling, he begin walking towards the commons area,

"I'm almost to where I want to be." "Whatever Jungkook, you bully us enough already." Hoseok pats Jungkook's head and walks away, leaving Jungkook to sit on the couches for a moment.

He picks up his phone and scrolls through Weverse and Twitter for a moment. Despite not being as active as people wish he could be, he does keep up with what everyone is talking about. Currently he sees excitement about their online concert from last year coming to DVD, and "JUNGKOOK'S ABS" is trending.

Yeah, he's definitely going to work out for his behind the scenes.

Holding his phone up, he snaps a quick selfie and posts it to Twitter. Once a month seems to be a good formula.

"Jungkook?" Yoongi's voice enters the room, "She's gonna shoot with Namjoon then you."

"Ah," Jungkook stands, "time to get nice and sweaty for ARMY."

"You're such a freak." Yoongi laughs, watching Jungkook leave the room.

Jungkook begins on the treadmill, listening to music and trying not to think about the fact that you're going to be photographing him while he's working out. He feels somewhat dumb, being so incredibly invested in your opinions of him already, but like yesterday proved, there was something about you that drew him in.

He speeds up the treadmill, his calves burning and his breathing quickening while he runs. It's incredible, the feeling of absolute bliss he feels after a run. When his muscles ache and his chest feels clear, he feels most at peace. Though, peace isn't difficult to come across these days. Even with the sadness of not being able to perform live like he wants to, it's not as looming as it was before. It's incredibly exhilarating to wake up not feeling like the end is near. It happened so suddenly, he's not sure what changed.

At the beginning, when they had to cancel the tour and stay in Korea, Jungkook felt as though life was never going to be the same. It was dark for everyone. He remembers Jimin crying in the bathroom after the cancellation, which caused Jungkook to start crying as well. He scrolled through social media for hours, reading the anger and frustration at those who had to return their tickets. It pained him, to see such a bleak view of the fans he adored.

Now that it's been close to 2 years, Jungkook has learned to-- for lack of a better term-- live with it. He wakes up every day and tries his hardest to live, and that's all you can do when your passion in life is ripped away from you due to an ongoing worldwide pandemic.

The gym doors slide open and Jungkook looks in the mirror to see you.

You have a camera around your neck, Jungkook recognizes it as a Canon. You close the door behind you and stop him as Jungkook starts to slow down the treadmill.

"Pretend like I'm not even here." you nearly whisper, and Jungkook has to stop himself from choking on his spit. Your voice sounded almost sultry. He can't tell if that was his imagination or if it was intentional on your part.

Jungkook shakes his head, turning up the speed just a little bit more.

He hears the shutter on your camera clicking, the action setting in full effect as he runs. You move around him, being sure not to get yourself in the mirror of the shots. The only noises in the room are his breathing and the sounds of his feet hitting the runway. It's rough, his chest heaving the more he pushes himself, but he's more interested in the way you seem to float around the room, or the fact that your hands seem dwarfed by the large camera.

It makes him wonder what your hands would look like on him.

A necklace dangles from your neck, it's gold and shines under the lights of the gym. It falls gently into the crevice of your chest, what looks like a golden moon on the end of the chain.

Again, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his.

"You gotta stop looking at the camera." you giggle.

He didn't even realize his eyes were following you. Suddenly, it's like a wave of confidence washes over him. Confidence that he was not ready for.

He swallows, taking a deep breath, "I'm not looking at the camera." Why is he saying this?

"Yes you are," you grin, "I have like 7 pictures in a row of you looking directly at the camera."

"No," he shakes his head, "I'm looking at the person holding the camera." Shut up, Jungkook. Stop talking!

"Oh?" you laugh, "what's catching your eye?"

"The necklace." what the fuck? He basically admitted to staring at your tits!

"The necklace that's right in between my tits?"

He laughs, you snap a picture.

"I guess so, I'm sorry." The usual nervousness that he would feel at an admission like that is non-existent. He feels comfortable enough to talk to you like this, and judging by the way you smile, you're comfortable with it too.

"No need to be sorry," you snap another picture, "I know they draw attention."

Jungkook nods, "They certainly do."

"What do you like about them?"

The question throws Jungkook for a loop but he doesn't let that show.

"They're perky," he explains, stopping the treadmill, "and your shirts show off the perfect amount to leave some to the imagination."

"Ah, so you're imagining my tits?"

"Yes."

You smirk, walking away. For a moment, Jungkook is scared he said too much, but it's very quickly washed away by the sound of the lock turning. "So," you begin, "you're saying that if I took off my shirt, you wouldn't be opposed to looking at me?"

Jungkook shakes his head, "I also wouldn't be opposed to touching you."

"Well," you slip off your shirt, "I'm ready."

Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his gym shorts at the sight of your bra. Of your fucking bra.

Despite the blood rushing to his cock, he shakes his head, "Oh come on, darling. You know that's not enough for me."

"Your shirt first, buddy." your eyes follow Jungkook as he grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it off. Now that there's verbal consent, your eyes roam all over his torso. He's ripped, Jungkook knows this, but under your gaze he feels like a meal. Like he's about to get devoured by you, and he can't say he's not enjoying the idea.

You reach behind you, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall to the ground.

Jungkook's eyes widen at sight, stepping closer to you and falling to his knees. He places his nose against your torso, inhaling your scent. The sensuality of the small gasp that left your mouth fueled Jungkook. He grabs your hands and pulls you down to his level, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.

It's rough and heated, all teeth and tongue. He's not used to being this way, to feeling almost primal in his movements. He gnaws at your bottom lip, eliciting another moan from you. It's high pitched and nearly whiny, proving that you're suddenly filled with as much need as he is.

"I'm gonna fuck you," Jungkook states, "right here. Right now."

"Please." you toss your head back, falling onto the padded floors of the gym. Jungkook follows suit, kissing his way down your body until he reaches your navel. Again, he presses his nose into you and inhales, you smell so damn good.

He keeps smelling, inhaling your scent as he undoes the buttons of your jeans. The less clothing there, the stronger your scent becomes. He feels insatiable, nearly ripping off your panties to get to your center.

"Fuck, you're so wet already," Jungkook groans, his voice deep with want, with need. Taking a single finger up your slit, he draws it back and sucks your juices clean, "and you taste as good as you smell."

You stare up at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself up on your elbows and spreading your legs as wide as you can. "Now that you've had a taste you might as well finish it."

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice, diving into your soaked folds with his tongue. He moves fast but also meticulously, being sure to take note of all the places that make you moan a little louder, sink a little deeper into him. Your hand reaches down and snakes its way through his hair, tugging at the roots.

At that point, Jungkook begins to kick off his shorts without pulling away.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to fuck you," you moan in between words, "you always look so good everywhere you go."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckles, "did you imagine fucking me before you got hired here?"

You nod, "I couldn't help it, I knew you'd be good."

As Jungkook manages to get his shorts off, he grips ahold of his aching member. Pulling up to his knees, his thumb doesn't stop rubbing harsh circles against your clit.

"That's hot," Jungkook breathes, "I've been wanting to take you since I first saw you."

"Then do it." you demand, and a flip switches in Jungkook's brain.

He pulls his fingers away from you and leans forward, "Taste yourself."

You don't hesitate to take his fingers into your mouth, Jungkook feeling your tongue dance across the pads of his fingers. Feeling himself twitch, he strokes himself for a little bit of relief while you suck.

"Taste good?" He questions.

"Delicious."

"Good girl." He murmurs, leaning down and connecting your lips with his again. As he does so, he runs the head of his cock against your slit, enjoying the gasp you let out every time he brushes against your clit. You feel so warm, so inviting. He can taste you so well, he wants nothing more than to dive in.

So he does.

Pressing into you slowly, he feels your warmth envelope him. Your legs wrap around his hips and guide him in all the way. When he slips all the way in, you both pull away for a moan.

"So fucking good. So tight." He moves his hips achingly slow, enjoying the noises of content leaving your lips. Your moans spur him on as your tightness engulfs him yet again. He leans down and presses a kiss to your neck, your hot skin nearly burning his lips, "I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head, "You can't hurt me. I promise."

Jungkook isn't sure what takes over him at this point, but he feels his lips begin to thrust harshly into you. He doesn't process the rest of the world, the only thing that's certain is you. You're everything that he needs to focus on now, your whines, your moans, the feeling of your legs guiding him in and out of you. He wants to take you here over and over again until the end of time, and he's never felt that about anyone before in his life.

Your lips are beginning to bruise from the rough kisses he's been laying on you, so he takes a gentle approach and sucks on your jawline. Every few thrusts, he rests his forehead against yours. Then he moves again. Then rests.

"Tell me how good I feel." you whisper against his lips, breathy.

"Baby," Jungkook's brows knit together in pleasure, "you feel so good around me. So warm. I want to cum in you and fill you up so bad. Do-n't stop squeezing- fuck."

Jungkook abandons the pace he tried to keep and slams into you, pulling you on top of him and lifting you up and down on his cock. You let out a scream as he reaches a point he hasn't touched before, your cunt tightening exponentially around him.

He latches his mouth onto your nipples, the sensitive peaks hardening against his tongue. Your nails rake down his chest while you grind against him, your ass smacking against his thighs while he begins thrusting upward.

His hands grip your hips harshly, sure enough to leave bruises by his fingertips. He feels his orgasm approaching quickly, but he needs you to cum first. He need to feel you cum around him. "Fuck," he growls through clenched teeth, "cum. I need you to cum. Cum around me, please please please!"

"I'm gonna- I'm-" your sentence is cut off by your orgasm taking over, clenching deliciously around Jungkook and pushing him over the edge. His hips stutter and he releases into you, your warmth mixing with his as he collapses onto the ground. You're both silent for a while, your chests heaving as you try to calm down. Jungkook leans up, keeping you in a hug as your knees move to either side of his hips. Neither of you make a move to pull apart, Jungkook softening inside of you but the sensitivity feels so good.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, glancing behind you and towards the mirrors. On the inner edge of each of your shoulder blades, lay two large scars. They're old, pink in color now. Jungkook reaches a finger up to trace the scars but is stopped by a knock on the door.

"Hey, I'm ready when you are _____!" Jimin's voice sounds through the gym, muffled by the door.

"Shit." You whisper, "shit, shit, shit!"

You quickly pull off of him, beginning to slip your panties and bra back on.

Jungkook flinches at the sudden loss of warmth around him, looking down at his cock and seeing a mixture of his and your cum coating his thighs. "Don't you need to clean up?" he whispers.

"I'll stop by the bathroom on the way." you murmur, now fully dressed, "thank you for that, by the way." you wink, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing a hard kiss against him. Then, you're out the door.

Jungkook is left naked on the floor, confused, and wanting to ask why exactly you have asymmetrical scars on your back.

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader fluff #jungkook x reader angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x you

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fireladybuckley · 3 years

Note

congratulations on your milestone, love! could i request 5 with buddie? :)

Sure thing, love <3 Thank you for all your support and friendship (and betaing!) over the last while, you are simply awesome. :)

#5 - “At least let me clean it.”

“You sure you don’t need help with those?” Eddie asked, watching Buck’s biceps bulge as he lifted a heavy metal crate.

“Nah, I’m fine,” Buck said, grunting as he hefted the crate high into the air and slid it onto its shelf. “It’s a good workout!”

Eddie shook his head as Buck flashed a grin at him, then shrugged and moved on.

“Alright, I’m going to start inventory on the medical supplies then.”

“Sounds good to me,” Buck agreed easily, turning back to the stack of metal crates containing extra equipment and lifting the second one.

Eddie moved over to the area where they kept the medical supplies and began counting, feeling his eyes start to cross within moments. Doing inventory was always one of the most boring jobs, but he and Buck had volunteered to start while the others went on a medical call, figuring the earlier they started, the earlier they could be done.

Eddie was halfway through counting boxes of sterile gauze when he heard Buck let out a wordless yell of alarm, then a deafening crash of metal and a cry of pain. Eddie dropped the boxes of gauze he was holding and bolted over to where he’d left Buck. The first thing he saw was one of the metal crates on its side on the floor, its contents spilled everywhere. Second was Buck, sitting on the floor where he’d clearly fallen over, clutching a hand to the side of his face and looking pained.

“Buck! Are you okay?” Eddie asked in alarm, hurrying over to him and kneeling down at his side.

“Y-yeah, I think,” Buck said, wincing as he held onto his face. Eddie reached up and gently pulled away Buck’s hand, though the other man tried to resist. Eddie wrinkled his nose and inhaled a little sharply, seeing a jagged cut along Buck’s temple and over his cheekbone that began oozing blood down the side of his face the second the pressure from his hand was removed.

“Ouch, that looks like it hurts,” Eddie said, leaning closer and examining the edges of the wounds. “Come on, let’s get you patched up.”

“I’m fine,” Buck groaned, pushing Eddie away with his clean hand and struggling to his feet, gripping the shelving unit to pull himself upright. Eddie followed him, watching as he swayed on the spot, reaching out to steady him.

“Buck, I need to make sure you’re okay,” Eddie said, and there was a command somewhere in his voice that Buck automatically responded to, turning towards him but looking wary. “At least let me clean it.”

“Fine,” Buck muttered, grudgingly allowing Eddie to put a hand on his back and lead him away from the mess he’d made, sitting down on the bench as Eddie brought him into the locker area. As Eddie ran off to get a med kit, Buck touched the side of his face, wincing at the sting of the wound and the feeling of his blood on his fingers. He could feel it slipping down his neck, slowly soaking into the collar of his shirt and he shuddered, hating the sensation.

Buck realized he could feel pain on his arm as well and pulled up the short sleeve of his shirt, noting that the cloth was ripped. Sure enough, there was another cut underneath that had soaked blood into the fabric of the sleeve and now oozed sluggishly down his arm in its absence. Buck swore, running his clean hand through his hair in frustration. Why did he always have to get hurt? Was it really so much to ask to go through a two week period without having to get patched up at least once?

Eddie returned with the med kit just as Buck was twisting his arm around to look at the wound and shook his head.

“Got you twice, huh? What happened, exactly?” Eddie asked, sitting down on the bench next to Buck and digging through the med kit for the supplies he needed.

“I was lifting one of the crates and it tipped over a bit when I tried to get it on the shelf. I guess it wasn’t closed properly because several pieces of equipment fell out onto my face. Lost my balance and dropped the crate,” Buck sighed, thinking of all the stuff he was going to have to clean up afterwards.

“Are you alright? Did the equipment hit you hard, or just cut you?” Eddie asked, trying to ascertain if Buck could be head-injured, looking for the maglite.

“No, it just cut me,” Buck replied. “I fell over because I tried to back up too fast and tripped, not because it hit my head.”

Eddie noticed that Buck sounded a bit embarrassed but shook his head slightly, dismissing it. It could have happened to him just as easily; if he’d had a cascade of heavy metal equipment falling towards his face he’d have backed up in a hurry as well.

“Going to check your pupillary reflex anyway, just in case,” Eddie said and Buck nodded. Buck looked up obediently and held still as Eddie shone the light into each of his eyes, checking his pupils. “Looks good, thankfully.”

“This is probably going to sting,” Eddie said apologetically as he unwrapped an antiseptic wipe next and turned to Buck. Buck sighed and sat still, not really bothered as Eddie cleaned the cut on his arm. It stung a little, but it wasn’t terrible. Buck was far more focused on the feeling of Eddie’s hands on his skin, the warmth of his grip as he steadied Buck’s arm with one hand, cleaning the wound with the other. The feeling of Eddie touching him, even in this more clinical way, had set his heart racing and he bit the inside of his lip, looking away from Eddie, sure his expression would betray him.

He and Eddie were in uncharted territory, as far as he was concerned. Recently, feelings between them had become known, but neither one had moved past those admissions and done something about it. Buck had been dying to ask Eddie on a date, but he was too nervous most of the time to actually do it, despite knowing that Eddie was interested in him.

“Okay, all done. That cut isn’t very deep, but I’ll cover it just so it stays clean for the rest of the shift. You can take the bandage off as soon as you get home and let it breathe.”

“Okay,” Buck agreed, still looking away as Eddie taped some gauze to the wound and pulled his slightly tattered sleeve down over it. Buck watched Eddie out of the corner of his eye as the other man shifted on the bench, straddling it and facing Buck.

“Come closer,” Eddie requested, and Buck couldn’t think of a reason to protest so he shuffled closer, until he was practically sitting between Eddie’s legs. Eddie being so near jacked up his heart rate once more until he was sure Eddie would be able to sense it, which really only made things worse.

Eddie reached up and began to dab at the wound on the side of Buck’s face, and this time, it really did sting. Buck let out a small hiss of pain and turned his head instinctively, trying to move away from the burning sensation. Eddie’s face scrunched up in sympathy, but he reached up with his free hand and cupped Buck’s face, gently but firmly turning his head back and holding it in place.

“Sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to stay still,” Eddie admonished gently, and Buck swallowed hard as Eddie leaned closer, focusing on the wound. It felt strangely intimate to have him so close; Buck could smell his aftershave and see every individual hair in the stubble over his jaw that was starting to push through his skin after nearly 20 hours on shift. The touch of Eddie’s hand along his chin and cheek sent his nerves into a frenzy, and he let out a shaky breath, hoping Eddie would mistake his nerves for pain, rather than suspect just how affected by Eddie he was.

Eddie, too, was affected by his proximity to Buck, but he was doing his best not to show it. Buck’s bright blue eyes were so expressive, Eddie could see the apprehension in them, the unspoken words that he was longing to say shining back at him. Eddie gently cleaned the wound, holding Buck’s head still, desperately resisting the urge to slip the hand holding Buck’s chin up his jaw and into his hair, to pull him close and kiss him the way he’d been dreaming about for weeks.

Eddie finished cleaning the wound and then gently wiped up the blood that had slipped down Buck’s cheek and neck, stroking his skin with the wipe, trying to clean up the drying blood without rubbing too hard. Buck shivered as Eddie’s fingers ghosted over the skin of his neck and Eddie’s eyes flickered to Buck’s, seeing the nervousness there, the embarrassment of the shiver that he hadn’t been able to suppress.

“I’m just going to put a couple of steri strips on this, okay?” Eddie asked after a moment, his voice quieter than before. His affection and desire for Buck was screaming in his chest and he was amazed that Buck couldn’t hear it through his neutral words. Buck nodded in response, and Eddie carefully applied the steri strips, closing the wound and dabbing at the bit of fresh blood that squeezed out.

“All finished,” Eddie said softly, and despite his words, Eddie’s hand lingered on the side of Buck’s face, his fingers still steadying Buck’s jaw. A sudden silence passed between them as Eddie found he couldn’t pull away, and instead he slipped his hand a little higher, cupping Buck’s entire cheek, his thumb gently stroking over Buck’s uninjured cheekbone.

Buck looked over at him, his blue eyes shining; Eddie knew immediately how important this moment was - Buck’s eyes conveyed a vulnerability that Eddie had never seen before. Buck’s expression showed a complete trust in Eddie, but also a shyness that anyone who thought they knew Buck would never have suspected was there. Eddie could see from that single look how much Buck wanted to be with him, but that he was afraid to make the first move, afraid of being rejected again. Eddie also knew he was afraid, like Eddie was, of what might happen if they tried being together but it didn’t work out - what would happen to their friendship? And yet, Eddie couldn’t do this anymore. He knew how Buck felt, and not being with him when they both felt the same way was incompatible with life as he knew it.

So, instead of withdrawing his hand, Eddie took a breath and then did exactly as he had imagined a few minutes prior. He slipped his hand along Buck’s jawline and downwards until his hand rested comfortably on Buck’s neck, his fingers gently teasing the ends of Buck’s hair. Eddie could feel Buck’s pulse pounding against his hand and knew he was as excited and nervous as Eddie was, which somehow helped fill Eddie with the confidence to finish what he’d started.

Closing the distance between them, Eddie pulled Buck’s head a little closer as he leaned forward, and in an instant their lips had met. Eddie felt Buck inhale a little sharply in reaction, but then he was pressing closer, kissing Eddie back. It was like a fire ran through his veins; Eddie felt all of his limbs tingle with electricity as they embraced, his own heart racing as Buck let out a soft whimper and pressed even closer to him. Eddie wrapped his free arm around Buck’s side, his hand resting on and stroking Buck’s back, and it was Eddie’s turn to let out a soft noise as he felt Buck’s hand reach up and hesitantly touch his cheek, settling there after a moment.

Eventually they broke apart, the silence around them broken only by their shaking breaths. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, the brown considering the blue, before they moved back together in unison, joined together in a kiss once more. Buck’s heart was pounding in his chest as he wrapped both of his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, Eddie responding by pulling him in as close as possible, deepening the kiss as they both became breathless, desperate for more.

They only broke apart a moment later as Buck’s radio, which was positioned right below their heads, suddenly blared into life with Bobby’s voice, letting them know that they were headed back to the firehouse. Buck and Eddie both sat there, panting, then burst into laughter, throwing their arms around each other and hugging. The hug ended abruptly as the side of Buck’s face bumped into Eddie’s and he let out an involuntary gasp of pain and flinched away.

“Sorry!” Eddie said apologetically, standing up and leaning over, pressing a kiss into Buck’s hair, beside his wound. Buck smiled at the sweet gesture, looking up at Eddie as the other man gathered the garbage from the supplies he’d used. Eddie grabbed Buck a new shirt and helped him peel off the ripped, blood-stained one he was wearing, and by the time they’d tossed the old shirt and Buck had pulled on the new, they could hear the truck rumbling outside, about to pull into the house.

“So… where does that leave us, then?” Buck asked, turning his back to the parking bay and looking over at Eddie, who had just turned back to join him. Eddie could see the hope in Buck’s eyes, and knew there was nothing else to it.

“Why don’t we get breakfast after our shift and see where that goes?” Eddie asked, trying to sound casual but aware that the eagerness that Buck felt was also clear in his tone.

“Sounds like a date,” Buck replied after a moment, and there was barely suppressed joy in his voice that made Eddie smile. Quickly, just before the truck pulled in, Eddie ducked his head and pressed a kiss to Buck’s lips, leaving the other man feeling dizzy with happiness as the truck appeared in the bay.

Buck watched as Eddie walked away and followed in a daze to greet the others as they returned, suddenly finding himself under a barrage of questions and concerns as Hen, then Bobby and then Chim noticed his facial injury and grilled him about it. As Buck laughed and insisted that he was alright, he caught Eddie’s eye from across the room and bit his lip as Eddie grinned at him. Buck had never wanted to get off of a shift as badly as he did at that moment, and the memory of their kisses sustained him over the next few hours until they could finally be together, exploring what ‘together’ really meant for the first time.

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thefallennightmare · 4 years

Text

Amnesia

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Words: 2551

Warnings: A few swears, ANGST(lets be real, what else is new?), and some fluff.

Summary Request: Sebastian and reader broke up like a year ago and one day she receives a call from the hospital and they tell her that Seb had an accident and she’s still his emergency contact so she goes to see him because she still loves him. And when he wakes up he has amnesia and he doesn’t remember they broke up, so he thinks they’re still together and the doctors tell her she has to play along because telling him the truth can be damage for his brain and he has to remember on his own?

A/N: Here is the very long awaited request someone sent in. I’m so incredibly sorry this took SO LONG to write but life got away from me. I really hope you like it and it was well worth the wait.

The double doors in front of me opened with a breeze as I quickly walked up to the small lady behind the front desk. She was chatting with another girl but the conversation immediately ceased when I walked up.

“Hi, can I help you?” Her tired voice asked.

Guilt raked me when I realized exactly how late it was but knew that this was normal for them.

“Uh, my name is Y/N Y/LN. I got a call from Dr. Stone that someone was admitted to the emergency room,” I stuttered over a few of my words.

“Can I have the patient's name?” The nurse clicked at her computer.

“Sebastian Stan.”

I hadn't muttered that name in so long that it sounded so foreign on my lips.

The nurse's ears perked up and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m going to need to see some I.D.”

Muttering some not so nice things under my breath, I slid my I.D over to her and smirked in triumph. “Can I go see him now?”

“Room 5 on the right,” she nodded behind the desk, where the doors to the emergency room opened.

A large breath left my lips as I slowly walked towards the room, preparing myself for what I was about to see. The phone call I received said that he had fallen while doing a stunt, hitting his head hard on the mat below him. Thankfully he wasn’t severely injured but what worried me was what the doctor had stressed on the phone.

He thinks it is April of 2019.

That was over a year ago.

He had amnesia but the doctor was very optimistic that it was temporary and that he would remember everything soon; I needed to be the one to help him with it.

“Y/N?”

My feet came to a halt at the deep voice behind me and I gave the man in a leather jacket a soft smile. “Hey Anthony. How is he?”

Mackie smiled. “He’s good, all things considered. He still thinks it's April of last year.”

“So he thinks?” I trailed off.

Anthony nodded. “The docs think it’s going to help him if you play along, pretend you two are still together.”

I let out a soft sigh. “I don’t think I can, Mack. We exactly didn’t have the easiest break up.”

“I know but anything to help him get better, right?”

I nodded, agreeing, and with a quick hug goodbye to Anthony, I entered the room trying to ignore the doubts that filled my mind.

He laid in his bed, the T.V in the corner playing a soft tune of FRIENDS reruns but his eyes weren’t watching it; they were trained on me.

“Hey babe, I was wondering when you would get here.” He went to sit up in bed but hissed in pain.

“Seb, relax. You don’t need to sit up, you should be relaxing,” I chastised him.

Pulling the chair next to his bed, I sat down and hesitated before taking his extended hand. His hair was much poofier than I remembered and the amount of grey hair in his beard had doubled. The bags under his eyes were deeper than the last time I had seen him, his work schedule weighing him down.

“What happened?” I questioned.

Sebastian squeezed my hand. “I fell while doing a stunt. Doctors said I smacked my head really good.”

“Did they say when you could leave?” I asked.

“Tonight. They suggested that you watch me closely, in case I do have a concussion.”

My heart sank. We had to spend the night together?

Biting my lip, I quickly nod. “Of course, Seb.”

Silence fell between us and it took him a second to notice something was wrong.

“Are you okay?,” he questioned while lifting my gaze to meet him. “You seem distant.”

Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I tried my best to reassure him with a nod. “Yeah, I was worried about you, that’s all.”

My heart hammered in my chest when I felt his soft lips graze across my forehead. “I’m okay, babe. I’ll be even better when we're back home in bed.”

I felt my body stiffen at that thought of us in bed together. How could I play it off that we were still together and in love when truthfully, we should hate each other? We broke up over a year ago and it was the nastiest one I had ever experienced.

We hadn’t spoken one word to each other since that night but I couldn’t help but feel warmth fill my heart knowing I was still his emergency contact.

Tonight was going to be fun.

“Need anything else, Seb?” I questioned after getting him set in bed.

The flat we used to share looked exactly the same, as if I never left. The clean pile of clothes still had a permanent residence on the large grey chair in the corner of the room; Seb never having the time to put them away.

The light from the moon still cascaded it’s way through the bay window, causing beautiful shadows across the hardwood floor and across Seb’s face.

“Just you in bed with me,” Seb gave me a cheeky grin.

I couldn’t help to mirror it before nodding. “Give me a few minutes, I want to freshen up before bed.”

Eyes followed my every movement as I rummaged through the dresser drawers, remembering where Seb kept his shirts and sweats. My body froze when I saw the picture that sat upon the dresser. It was one of us when we were vacationing in Greece and we were standing in front of the Acropolis.

I couldn't help but pick it up, smiling at the fond memory.

“We should go again,” Sebastian's voice said from behind me.

I nodded. “It was a great trip, wasn't it?”

Tears brimmed at my eyes but before he could say anything about it, I scurried into the master bath, letting the door quickly shut behind me. While I freshened up, I tried everything to not let this whole situation bother me.

How could I pretend to still be with Sebastian, knowing what I know. There was a point, long ago, that we were happy. We loved each other, more than anyone knew, but the love wasn’t enough for the doubt that weighed us down.

“Y/N?”

A soft knock tapped against the door.

With a quick sniffle and wiping away my tears, I quickly opened the bathroom door. “You okay?”

Sebastian looked at me with a worried look. “Were you crying?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”

“You shut the door. You never shut the door,” Sebastian noted.

“Oh,” my fingers gripped the dark wood, forgetting that I always used to keep the bathroom door open when we lived together.

Sebastian's fingers laced with my own and with a gentle tug, I followed him to the bed. Before I knew it, my head was on his chest and his strong fingers raked through my hair. The familiar feeling made my stomach flip and I bit my lip, hoping the tears didn’t force their way out.

“I know you were scared from my accident today but I promise babe, I’m okay.” Seb’s soft voice comforted me.

No words were finding their way through my throat so all I could do was nod. I allowed myself to look in his gorgeous green eyes and with one quick look, I told myself that this was going to hurt like hell when this was all over.

Just like it did when we broke up.

The domestic bliss found its way between us and I allowed myself to melt into his embrace. My finger traced circles on his bare chest while he rubbed my back.

“You know what I noticed,” Seb’s voice spoke.

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t given me one kiss tonight,” He pouted.

My body froze in his embrace and he immediately noticed. I sat up in bed while Seb reluctantly let me go.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I cried while getting out of bed and starting to collect my things.

“Y/N, what is going on?” Sebastian questioned.

“You honestly don’t remember anything?” I asked after taking a quick pause while putting on my shoes.

When he shook his head, I couldn’t stop the word vomit that spit out of my mouth.

“We broke up, Seb! Over a year ago!”

He shook his head. “What?”

Pinching my eyes together, I let out a large sigh. “The doctors said you had amnesia and the last thing you remembered was April of last year. We broke up last July.”

“I’m confused. Then why are you here?”

“The doctors thought it would be best if I played along, to help you remember on your own but I can’t do it anymore. Knowing how we broke up and why; I can’t pretend that we are in love when you actually don't anymore.”

I could see in Sebastian’s eyes that he still wasn’t believing what I was saying so I pulled out my phone, letting a voicemail play on speaker.

“Y/N, I know that we’re not in the same city right now and this is a terrible way to do this but I can’t do it anymore. We’ve been apart for almost a month now and I’ve come to realize that I can’t keep stringing you along. I need time to grow and focus on my career, I can’t have someone waiting for me back home when I don’t even know when the next time I would be coming home. It’s not fair to you to wait for me; for someone that can’t keep his promises. I’ll be home next month so that gives you time to move out. I’m sorry.”

Silence fell throughout the flat, the sudden look of remembrance flashing across Sebastian’s face.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “I remember.”

“You broke up with me with a fucking voicemail. A three year relationship ended with a goddamn voicemail!” I yelled.

“I was scared,” Seb defended.

My eyes doubled with anger. “Don’t give me that bullshit again, Seb. We went through this already. I just want to get my things and go home.”

I went to run down the stairs away from him but he stepped in front of me, stopping me.

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. It wasn’t fair to you for me stringing you along. I was only thinking of you.”

“Give me a break, Sebastian! You broke up with me then a week later you were seen with some blonde chick!” I yelled.

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair and his shoulders fell. “It wasn’t what the media made it seem like.”

“Did you sleep with her?” I asked, the same question that I had asked him the last time I saw him.

“No,” Seb answered without hesitation.

The same answer he gave me last time.

“I can’t keep having the same fight, Seb. It’s exhausting. I was finally in a good place with myself. I was getting over you then got a phone call telling me you had an accident. My world stopped. I thought you were seriously hurt, Sebastian. The second I saw you, all those feelings came back.”

He stuffed his hands deep in his sweat pockets and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.”

“Do you think we could ever go back to how we used to be?” I asked.

This time, Sebastian hesitated. “I don’t know. My brain is still so fucked from my fall today. It’s hard remembering some things.”

I nodded, reluctantly getting my things together before walking away. “Let me know when you do know, Seb.”

The same heartbreak I felt a year ago resurfaced as I realized that Sebastian was letting me walk out of his apartment and out of his life; again.

My T.V played a soft tune in the background as I browsed through my phone, trying to let another boring day pass. My fingers had a mind of their own as I typed away a certain username on Instagram, wanting to know what he was up to.

Nothing new.

No posts or stories.

Sebastian had been M.I.A on instagram for over a month now, since before his accident.

And since the last time we had seen each other.

We both had no contact with each other, not knowing where we stood. Or even in there was something between us to hold us together. I knew it in my heart that even though how we ended was terrible, I still wanted to be with Sebastian. I wanted to be like how we used to be but there was a doubt lingering in my mind; would he want the same? Would he even feel the same?

The clock on the wall struck midnight, the chimes sounded loud bouncing off the walls of my small apartment.

A soft groan left my lips as I stood up and started making my way towards my bedroom, however, a persistent knock on the door locked my feet in place.

My eyes darted to the bat that laid against the wall next to the door. Who was at my door in the middle of the night?

“Y/N?”

His deep but yet soft voice immediately eased my fear. Before I could even second guess my decision, I found myself opening the door.

Sebastian stood in front of me, his hair way more fluffier than the last time I saw him. The stubble on his face had grown in and I smiled at the few grey hairs peeking its way through. He looked distraught, his thoughts keeping himself up the last few nights.

He let out a few deep sighs, hesitating a few times, something deep on his mind.

We both stared at each other for a few moments, the lust and love that we felt when we were together clouding around us. It encased us in our own bubble and without a second thought, Sebastian was crossing the threshold attacking my lips with his own.

My hands gripped his hips while his own found their way through my hair, gently pulling on the roots. The kiss was one of those ‘hungry, teeth smacking, and lip biting’ kisses; the kind that made your head spin and insides melt.

Reluctantly, we broke apart to take a breath but not before Seb placed another chaste kiss on my lips.

“I know the way I ended things was a dick move and I should have broken up with you in person.”

My vision was still blurry from the kiss so all I could do was nod.

“If you still want me, I’m here. If you want me out of your life for good, just say the word and I’m gone. But if that kiss means anything to you as it did to me, I know that I’m right where I need to be.”

“Lock the door,” I mumbled against his lips. “We have a year of catching up to do.”

My giggles sounded throughout the apartment when I felt Seb toss me over his shoulder, carrying me up the stairs towards my bedroom.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan and reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan and y/n #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fanfiction #reader insert

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sevlgi · 4 years

Text

i think i love you

requested: no

group: red velvet

pairing: yeri x fem!reader (feat irene)

genre: fluff, angst

contents: unrequited love, sad christmases.

warnings: none

synopsis: One time you said it to the wrong person, three times you couldn’t say it aloud, and the last time you ever needed to be sorry for loving someone.

a/n: i hope you enjoy, and have yourself a very merry christmas 💖i may or may not be projecting with this fic, so uh... ignore that.

word count: 4.2k

“Oh come on, come on, come on!”

You panted harder than you ever had before as you ran through the train station, feet thudding against the ground in a way that wasn’t graceful in the slightest. Your knuckles where white with how you clutched your car keys in your hand, and your eyes scanned the station for the petite figure you were looking for.

To your dismay, not a single person had the dark waves cascading down their back, nor the peachy sweater and jeans that you remembered Joohyun to be wearing when she left the apartment. There wasn’t a white Chanel bag in sight, and certainly no unfairly beautiful face either.

But there-- a couple feet ahead of you, the same outfit you remembered, or at least a similar one. A white bag, a petite figure growing closer and closer as you ran closer at top speed.

And a collision, an unflattering “oof” escaping you as you hit the person you believed to be your crush of years. “I think I love you,” you blurted without even seeing Joohyun’s face, stumbling back when the girl who turned back was decidedly not her.

Had you not been so hung up on the older girl, you would’ve realized that the body you collided with was just as beautiful, that the smile on the stranger’s face was just as charming. “Uh. Wrong person?” she offered, cocking her head.

All of a sudden, you realized that her hair was too short, too straight to be Joohyun. She was probably a bit shorter, and her sweater wasn’t peach at all, more of a light pink color. “I-- I am so sorry,” you gasped, ducking down in a bow. “Oh my god, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I figured,” the stranger laughed. “Joohyun. That’s a girl’s name, isn’t it?”

When you hesitated to answer, apprehension about Korea’s conservative history obviously showing in your expression, she reassured you with her hands held up in the air, “I’m not homophobic, promise. Won’t jump you.”

“Yeah. She’s-- well. I love her.”

Rather than responding, she held her hand out to you to shake, fingers warm and surprisingly strong against yours. “Cool. I’m Yerim, but a lot of my friends just call me Yeri.”

“Yeri. Got it.” You attempted to smile back, still fearing that Yeri would hit you back or something. (Okay, unrealistic, but you had expected a K-drama moment with your crush in the train station. You were born unrealistic.) “Uh, I’m Y/N.”

Yeri nodded, checking her phone with a nonchalance that lead you to think that strangers hit her and confessed their love to her on the daily. “Right. Hey, could I ask you a favor? You can totally say no.”

There was no way you could refuse a chance to assuage your own guilt, and you didn’t really want to chase after Joohyun when her train was probably already gone, so you shrugged. “Sure, give it a shot.”

The girl smiled, nodding at the keys still fisted in your hand. “Could you drive me somewhere? I’d ask my friend, but I don’t really trust her to drive.”

“You’d rather go with a possible murderer than ask your friend to drive you?” you joked, face blanching when you realized what it implied. “I’m not-- that was a joke, by the way. I’m not a murderer.”

“If you knew Seulgi, you’d understand,” Yeri snickered, tugging her bag behind her in the direction that you came from. “So, is that a yes?”

It wasn’t smart-- that much was obvious. The smart thing to do would’ve been to call Joohyun before she left the station, to beg her to come back instead of letting her leave with a hatred for you permanently instilled into her heart. But smart was never your forte.

You jogged over to Yeri, pulling her in the actual direction of your car with a grin and an offer to pull her luggage for her. “It’s this way.”

Driving a random stranger home from the only train station in town shouldn’t have resulted in anything. You should’ve just dropped her off at the house she was staying at for the rest of the year, then driven off to moan about your terrible luck in love to Sooyoung.

But instead, Yeri didn’t close the door of the car immediately, peering inside at you with the curious smile on her face that you’d come to like over the 30-minute car ride. “Well? Are you coming? Seulgi wants to vet you.”

“Uh. Sure.” You locked the car behind you, hefting up the girl’s remaining luggage as the front door swung open, another girl rushing out to hug Yeri fiercely.

“Yerim, you little shit! How could you just ask a stranger to drive you home instead of me?” she whined, pouting down at the grinning girl you’d driven home. Seulgi, you assumed, was pretty-- unique monolids, wispy bangs, and a full mouth setting her apart from most girls you tended to see in your hometown.

“In my defense, you’re a horrible driver, unnie,” Yeri answered, prying herself out of Seulgi’s grip. She beckoned you over, taking the suitcase from your hands with a grunt. “Seulgi unnie, Y/N. Y/N, Seulgi unnie. Oh. I don’t know if she’s an unnie for you...” she frowned.

You half-expected Seulgi to maim you (again, unrealistic), but she tugged you into a hug that could’ve easily cracked a rib or two. “Thank you for driving Yeri home,” she smiled when she pulled away. “I’m offended on her comments about my driving skills, but that’s not your fault. Come in?”

Going inside for a cup of coffee ended up being about 5 hours of playing video games with the two girls, and laughing harder than you had for a good year or so. Indeed, it was the most you’d forgotten about Joohyun for a while, and it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t a relief.

You only came back to Earth when Sooyoung called you in a panic. “Y/N, Joohyun said that she’s already back in Daegu. You didn’t stop her?”

“Oh.” You glanced back to Seulgi and Yeri, hitting each other with the remote controls on the couch as Mario Kart’s winning page played triumphant music. “I... I didn’t get to her in time. I’m sorry.”

Sooyoung sighed over the line, voice tinny. “Don’t be sorry. Joohyun’s always been stubborn. Did you at least get to tell her? You know, that you lo--”

“I didn’t,” you cut your best friend off, lips thinning. You didn’t want to think about Joohyun or her rejection of your feelings, not when it had been the only thing on your mind for a good couple of years. “Sorry, Sooyoung. I gotta go, but I’ll be home soon.”

Without giving her a chance to speak, you hung up. It wasn’t her fault, of course, but it got annoying sometimes to be constantly reminded that you had to be honest sometime in your life. “I think I should go,” you smiled sheepishly at Yeri, tucking your phone away. “But thank you for today.”

“Hey, gimme that,” she suddenly called, reaching for your phone. Confused, you handed the unlocked device to her. “Okay, I’m saving myself as Yeri. You better not forget my name, because I’m texting you,” she warned, smiling wide when she handed it back.

A surprisingly genuine smile was directed at her as you accepted your phone, now with a cute selfie of Yeri as the profile picture of a brand new contact. Bowing to Seulgi, you grabbed your bag from the rack by the door. “See you soon, I guess?”

“Bye, Y/N!” the oldest girl called out, waving excitedly all the way until the front door locked behind you.

Taking a deep breath of cold night air, you pressed your fingers to your sternum to try and quell the beats of your heart. As you unlocked the door to your car and slid into an icy driver’s seat, you were hit with the longing to go back, back inside a warm living room filled with the laughter of two people who had no business being so welcoming towards you.

But you turned the key and switched the radio to a loud song that echoed inside the vehicle when you drove away. There was no warmth in your life, as you had to remind yourself, and you couldn’t get used to any, in case it made you let go of the only person you held close.

It seemed that Yeri existed purely to shock you, as you were pleasantly surprised by her call a week following the strangest occurrence of your life.

For the first silent week, you were oddly disappointed that she didn’t contact you. Some lingering hope for friendship, you assumed, was behind it all, and you did your best to brush it aside at work. You didn’t tell Sooyoung about Yeri’s existence at all, for fear that it’d backfire on you when she ultimately left you alone.

Instead, she called you in the middle of grocery shopping. “Hello?” you frowned, holding the phone to your ear without checking the caller name.

“Y/N! Did I catch you at a bad time?” Yeri asked, voice just as cheery as you remembered it to be. It was odd how much just hearing her made you perk up.

“Oh, not at all.” You set a bag of chips down and switched ears, moving to a quieter section of the supermarket. “What’s up?”

Yeri hummed slightly, rustling around. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re up for a movie night. I’m bored today, and Seulgi’s off visiting her girlfriend. Do you have anything to do?”

Movie nights reminded you of being a teenager, watching dumb movies off the internet with your friends and shrieking at kiss scenes. Suffice to say, you missed it, and Yeri seemed like the perfect person to forget about all responsibilities with. “Nothing at all,” you grinned, heading towards the alcohol section. “By the way, what kind of wine do you like?”

“I hate the Titanic,” Yeri sniffled, popping another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Jack’s stupid. Rose should find a wife and live happily ever after.”

“A wife?” you laughed, rolling over just to shove the girl. “In that time period? Unrealistic, Yerim, settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

She pouted, tilting her head to face you as well. The slight smell of alcohol on her breath mingled spicy-sweet with sugared popcorn, her flawless skin flushed pink. “Come on, don’t deny you want Rose to get a pretty wife too.”

You rolled your eyes, looking up at Rose hanging onto her board again. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“If I were Rose and you were Jack, I’d save you,” Yeri promised with a laugh, grinning when you looked at her with an incredulous look on your face. “I’m serious! Come on, the both of us could easily fit on that stupid board.”

“It’d sink,” you protested. “Didn’t you say you were good at math and stuff?”

“Math,” she pointed at the screen, “has nothing to do with gay expectations of movies.”

When she laid her head back down, under the makeshift blanket fort you’d made together to ward against the night’s chilliness, her nose almost brushed up against yours, Yeri’s eyes sparkling with the light from Seulgi’s flatscreen TV. “You’re right again,” you admitted just to stop staring at the other girl, flipping onto your stomach to watch the movie. “You’re right.”

It should’ve been awkward, but the girl just grappled for her phone, earning a kick from you when the screen was too bright in a pitch black room. “I want takeout. Are you with me or against me, Y/N?”

You suffocated her with a pillow, snatching the phone to set your own order. “Depends. Are you going to steal my fried chicken?” you demanded, laughing when Yeri smacked you with the pillow herself. “Answer the question!”

“You pay, and I won’t,” she promised, holding her arms up to protect her head. “Oh, it’s on!”

When you collapsed under the half-collapsed blanket fort, sweaty with an order of fried chicken displayed on Yeri’s phone screen and the credits to Titanic rolling, you felt a phrase on your tongue that you hadn’t said since the train station. When Yeri smiled at you, you felt your lips parting to let the words out, and you felt your hand clamping over the 5 words you had already told her by mistake.

It was too fast, too intense to be real. Unlike the 5 years it had taken you to realize you loved Joohyun, it took two hangouts and one chaotic car ride for you to feel something that could burn you up from the inside if you weren’t careful.

I think I love you.

“I hope you like kimbap, because I am the Kimbap Destroyer!”

You chuckled as you shut the door to the apartment you shared with Sooyoung, said roommate nowhere to be found as a crash sounded from your kitchen. “How’d you get in, Yeri? Picked the lock?”

The girl appeared with rice-sticky gloves still on, freshly dyed hair tied up in a ponytail for cleanliness. “Joy let me in on her way out. Is that her real name, by the way?” she asked, returning to the kimbap rolls laid out on your counter. “She’s really pretty.”

“Hey, no simping for my roommate,” you protested, something bubbling at the back of your throat despite Yeri’s joking tone. You hugged her from behind as you knew she liked it, reaching over to snack on some of the extra seaweed. “Besides, isn’t she too old for you?”

“Says you, in love with a girl years older,” Yeri protested. When you fell silent, though, she winced at her own insensitiveness. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have joked like that.”

You shrugged it off, peeling your work jacket off. “No problem. I should be over her by now anyway, she hasn’t talked to me or Sooyoung since the train station. Months. She obviously doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Yeri frowned at that, staring at the back of your head as you looked out the kitchen window. “Hey. You know that isn’t true. And if it was, I’ll have you know that plenty of people care about you. Me, Joy, Seulgi, and all of your friends.”

Turning around with a grin on your face that didn’t convince the other girl for a second, you slung your arm around her shoulders. “Wow, Kim Yerim, when did this turn into soft hours? Love you too~”

She let the subject go, throwing a leftover radish stick at you. “Is it time for love already? You’ve only known me for four months, do you always move this fast?”

No, you wanted to respond. No, I usually take years. But you’re an exception, a stupid exception that’s wormed your way into my heart.

Putting Yeri into a halfhearted headlock, you joked, “I’m basically a U-Haul lesbian. By this time, I expected us to already have kids, or at least a cat or two.”

Once she kicked you away, though, you felt the smile on your face falter, looking at this random girl who made you care about her so much making kimbap in your kitchen.

I think I love you.

You swayed at a side to fend from the December wind, hands stuffed deep into your coat pockets as Seulgi hung onto Yeri. Standing just a few feet away, Wendy and Sooyoung talked quietly, smiling at the sight of their friends.

It shouldn’t have been a somber occasion in any way; all that was happening was Yeri flying back home to spend the winter holidays with her family. But somehow, it was like the end of the world, Seulgi still talking in Yeri’s ear as you waited for your own turn.

“Go on, Y/N,” Seulgi urged, shivering in the windbreaker she wore. Her girlfriend enveloped her in a hug, Wendy’s petite frame making the sight almost comical. “Say goodbye.”

“She isn’t going off to the military,” you laughed, making your way over anyway. Yeri held her arms out for a hug, her hair whipping around like a tornado around her. Despite your words, you accepted the embrace, gloved hands lingering on the small of her back as you buried your nose into her shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Yeri giggled, twisting back and forth to make the hug a little less serious. “Like you said, I’m not going off to the military. I’ll be back before you know it, though I am sad that I don’t get to spend Christmas with you and our friends this year.”

“Mm.” You didn’t want to let go, and thankfully, Yeri didn’t mind, her humming vibrating through your body. “You have a good time with your sisters. Eat something nice, spend time with your family, and have fun.”

“Why do you sound sad?” she whispered in your ear, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “I told you, I’ll be back before you know it.”

When you pulled away, you were struck with the sight of her, nose cherry red in the icy Seoul weather. The cloudy sky was a good lighting for her, though Yeri would look beautiful in any setting, and the look in her eyes stirred something sweet deep in your heart. “I know,” you sighed, bringing your hands up to your nose for warmth.

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” Yeri asked, wetting her lips slightly.

And of course, the answer was yes. After just a couple months of friendship, you already wanted to ruin it with that treacherous heart of yours, wanted to press your mouth to hers and thank her for all the unwarranted kindness she showed you. But you shook your head, stepping back to allow Seulgi to hug Yeri one more time before you had to leave.

She walked backwards into the airport just to wave to you, the grin on her face never fading. Sooyoung linked her arm in yours to tug you away when it was time, whispering, “Are you sure there isn’t something you wanted to say?”

I think I love you.

“I’m sure,” you sighed, breath forming a white dragon before your face. “I’m sure.”

Christmas stopped being fun for you at age 10, from what you remembered.

As soon as you became aware that Santa Claus was a lie, the holiday changed from being the most magical time of year to a 2 week break from school, or work, or both. It became the time to miss your family, to miss the childhood that wasn’t great but was a million times better than your adult life.

Joohyun was the one to make the holidays better ever since you met her. She was always able to somehow lighten the mood with a ticket to Lotte World, or a freshly baked gingerbread house for you to decorate and then smash. She hated making snow angels but always participated, tossing snow at you just to see that bright smile on your face.

But last year, that all changed. Last year, as soon as Joohyun knew that you felt something for her other than friendship, everything you built together crumbled down.

It was nothing against the fact that you were both girls; Joohyun had had girlfriends before, and she was always the one pushing you to date and get out of your comfort zone. However, for some reason, she couldn’t even contemplate the thought of being with you romantically.

She ran away that year, too, left you alone in your tiny, cold apartment during what was once again the worst time of year. She went back to her sister’s restaurant in Daegu, and came back after New Year’s like nothing changed. But of course it did; your friendship was irreparable, torn to pieces just like your heart. As the awkwardness between you stretched both of you thin, she completely moved out, switching roommates with Sooyoung before declaring that she was moving back to Daegu for good.

Christmas was even more ruined for you than it ever had been, and the only reason you still put up a Christmas tree was for Sooyoung, who still enjoyed the holiday. Your roommate was the only reason that a tree twinkled in the corner of the room, right next to the TV that played a stupid Hallmark movie in the middle of the night.

You expected for her to never come back. Why would she, after all? With her beautiful face and perfect personality, she could easy find someone new. A girl who possessed all the good qualities you didn’t have, a girl who lacked all the bad qualities you did have.

Nevertheless, when you heard a familiar knocking pattern on your apartment door, you knew who it was. And you knew that you didn’t have to get up from the couch to unlock the door for the former owner of the apartment, knew that you didn’t have to see her face to start crying.

“Y/N?”

“Joohyun,” you responded listlessly, not bothering to turn around as you heard the front door shut softly. “You’re back.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, appearing just as beautiful in your peripheral vision. God, you hated how your lungs seized at the sound of her voice, how many memories you could recall. “I’m so sorry for leaving you behind, and for making you feel... like this.”

Spite fueled you to raise an eyebrow, turning back to face her in the hopes that it pained her as much as it did you. “Sooyoung told you?” At the older girl’s nod, you scoffed, “She had no right to do that.”

“I’m glad she did,” Joohyun persuaded, sitting closer to you on the couch and only stopping at your glare. “Y/N, it’s wrong that I led you on. And I regret every bit of it, especially now that I know how much you’ve hurt.”

“Hurt?” You brought a trembling hand up to rake through your hair, shaking your head. “That’s undermining it. Joohyun, I loved you. And I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t let me. It’s too late to-- you can’t just come back into my life like this. I won’t let you.”

She flinched back as if you had slapped her, her hand withdrawing from where it had been trying to touch you. “I-- Y/N. That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” you shouted suddenly, springing up. “You’re the one who isn’t fair. You left in June, but you’ve been gone for a year. And I don’t love you anymore!”

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Joohyun answered back, softer than she had ever spoken before. She searched your eyes for an answer, biting her lip when she found none. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” Your voice was stronger than hers, a firm wall in front of your heart that wouldn’t let her in no matter what. And when no lie rung in your ears, you repeated, “It’s not a lie. You left me, and you can’t expect me to still love you, Joohyun. I love someone else now, someone who-- someone who wouldn’t hurt me like you.”

And to your surprise, the girl smiled. Tearily, but she smiled nonetheless, gathering her jacket from the back of the couch. “I see. Well, I... I’m glad that you found someone to mend your heart. I never wanted to hurt you, and I hope you’ll see that someday.”

Just like that, she was gone again, a whisper of her perfume the last thing fueling the rage burning in your lungs. Just like that, it was like she was never in the apartment at all, the space once again cold and empty.

Snatching a framed picture of Yeri off the dresser, you sighed and sat down again, chin in your hand as you stared at the smile that had ingrained itself into your brain. “Yeri, I don’t know what to do anymore. I... I really don’t love Joohyun anymore, but it still hurts.”

She didn’t respond, of course, but you waited a second before continuing. “But I wasn’t lying when I told her I loved someone else. Is it wrong that I moved on so quickly? Is it wrong that I let you replace her?”

Biting down on your lip, you held the picture closer to your chest. It was ridiculous to be treating a picture frame as your sense of comfort, especially when said girl probably didn’t know about your feelings or care about them in the slightest. “I think I love you.”

“Reminiscing about the way we met?”

You spun around in the couch, spine creaking embarrassingly with your speed. And there, Yeri stood in the doorway, hand still lingering on the doorknob as she smiled. “Or is it something else?”

Tripping over your own two feet was embarrassing, but the other girl didn’t seem to mind when you ran to hug her, eyes stinging when you hugged her with all your might, whispering with your eyes squeezed shut, “I love you. I love you I love you I-”

The taste of bitter words on your tongue was replaced with the sugar of Christmas cookies, soft lips moving against yours and cold hands at your jaw. Yeri was the warmth that you had missed in your arms, and you could only grin as you kissed her back.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she laughed when she pulled back slightly to breathe, lips as red as the cranberries Sooyoung hung on the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas.”

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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Text

A Lapse In Judgement - Part 5

CHAPTER ONE: A Dangrous Present CHAPTER TWO: A Past Forgotten CHAPTER THREE: A Foreshadowing CHAPTER FOUR: One Possible Conclusion CHAPTER FIVE: Untethered

Komaeda Nagito x Ultimate Empath!Reader

Summary: Just a normal day at Hope's Peak Contains: she/her pronouns, gitches, blood and gore, rejection Read on AO3

“So. Are you doing it today?” Koizumi asks, giving you a knowing smirk from her desk. It is a good ten minutes into lunchtime and the afternoon sun is cascading in through the open window. It’s a beautiful day, and you would usually be outside if you didnt have more important matters to attend to.

You are halfway through sealing a very fancy envelope with a collection of decorative stickers, but you still manage to shoot Koizumi a glare. Pointedly staring at her left cheekbone instead of into her eyes.

She laughs, “hey, no need to get all feisty with me. I’ve just seen you toiling away at that letter for over a week now, I’m glad you’ve finally finished it.”

You hum, peeling a sunflower shaped sticker from a sticker sheet and affixing it over the back flap of the envelope, “I had a lot of things to say, and I’m not a very good writer.”

“You sure as hell aren’t!” Another voice scoffs from behind you, and you turn to see Saionji sitting on her desk, swinging her feet back and forth. She clears her throat, “An except: my cheeks burn, my stomach twists! ” Her interpretation of your work is offensively overacted, she clutches her chest and bats her eyes, “ When your eyes lock with mine my heart flutters, when your lips form the syllables of my name I-“

Koizumi throws a pencil at her, you are eternally grateful.

“You memorised it?” You hiss, clutching the envelope protectively

“Yeah, duh.” Saionji rolls her eyes, “I read it over your shoulder like three days ago, it was so funny I had to write it down.” She smirks, “I already showed it to a buncha people.”

“Ugh, what the hell , Saionji?” You exclaim, pressing more stickers to the front of the envelope as angrily as someone can manage, “it’s very personal!”

Koizumi sighs, “yeah Hiyoko. That was pretty insensitive of you.”

You hear the beginnings of some classic Saionji fake tears, but force yourself to ignore it. Popping the cap off of a sharpie and inking a name on the front of your envelope. You try to write as neatly as possible, but it’s hard when your hands are shaking.

“So. Who’s it for?” Saionji asks, over her crying fit already. She leans in to take a peak and you hide the name with your forearm, glaring at her again, “What are you so embarrassed about? Is it someone gross?!”

You don’t answer, your glare grows deeper, but Saionji ignores it.

“Oh yuck! Is it Souda? Is it Hanamura?????”

Koizumi clicks her tongue, but a playful smile tugs at her lips, “yeah if it’s Hanamura we might have to disown you.”

“It’s not Hanamura.” You mutter, resting your chin on the palm of your hand, “just stop trying to guess. It’s only making me more nervous.”

Sitting up from her desk, Koizumi comes over and rubs your arm encouragingly, “hey, I’m sure whoever it is will say yes. You’re great, and your talent is really cool.”

You avert your eyes, “my talent isn’t cool, everyone thinks I’m weird.”

“Yeah, iunno, Koizumi-chan.” Saionji says, “I get shivers up my spine whenever she looks at me with her creepy eyes.”

You gesture weakly in Saionji’s direction, “see? People don’t like having their emotions read, it’s invasive and gross.”

“Hey.” Koizumi starts, giving you a soft smile, “look at me.”

Your gaze is intently focussed on her right eyebrow when you say, “I am looking at you.”

She laughs, “ No , look at me.” She points to her eyes, “right here.”

You swallow. Since starting high school you made a valiant effort to avoid using your talent, people always thought you were weird and creepy, it was hard to make friends, “Come on.” She says, placing her hand over yours, “You can trust me.” you take a shaky breath, and meet her eyes.

Protectiveness, warmth, friendship

You feel yourself soften a little, and Koizumi smiles, “okay. You get it now? We’re your friends. Hiyoko and I are going down to the cafeteria, you stay up here and do whatever you need to.” She stands upright and heads to the door, Saionji falling into step beside her, “let us know how it goes.”

Saionji sticks her tongue out, but does follow it up with a quick, “good luck!” before following Koizumi out of the classroom.

Now that you are alone, your heart starts to race. The envelope feels heavy and almost frightening in your hands. This crush of yours has lasted almost a year now, and this is going to be your first attempt to actually do something about it, you’ve never done anything like this before in your life.

You take a deep breath, and pull yourself up from your desk. Knees wobbling as you head over to the desk of Nagito Komaeda, and slip the envelope inside. Saionji would have teased you relentlessly if she knew it was him the love letter was for, but people think you are weird, and people think he is weird. Being the two weird kids in class meant that you spent a lot of time together, group projects that no one wanted to chance his luck with, or that no one wanted to spend multiple classes avoiding your line of sight during. He liked your talent, he trusted you to be respectful and careful of his feelings. Also his hair looked soft.

The letter asked him to meet the sender around the back of the gym after last period. It did not mention you by name. Until then, you were just going to spend the rest of your day completely normally. So you gave Komaeda’s desk one final look and headed back out of the classroom to go meet Koizumi in the cafeteria.

“Oh! Hey!”

You look down the hallway and see Hajime Hinata jogging up to you. You don’t know him particularly well, he sits at the front of the class at the desk by the window. The front row has five desks, the others only have four, Hinata’s desk is out of line with the rest of them. Like it was an afterthought.

“Hello.” You reply, keeping your gaze focussed on his nose instead of his eyes, “How are you?”

He gives you an awkward smile and rubs the back of his neck with a hand. You notice that his uniform looks weird on him, but you can’t place why. It fits, but it looks like it is moving and shifting on his body in ways that are unnatural, you don’t point it out, “I left my lunch in my desk. I’m coming back to get it.”

“Ah.” You say, “do you want me to wait for you?”

Before he has time to answer, you see a familiar figure coming down the hall and you instinctively grab Hinata by the wrist and tug him down to hide behind a row of lockers. You are too distracted, and don’t notice that Hinata’s uniform is black now instead of brown.

“What are you doing?!” Hinata hisses. You cup a hand over his mouth and hold completely still as Komaeda walks past the two of you and into the classroom. You notice that his vest is stained with what looks like gravy, luck related incident, you assume.

Once Komaeda isn’t visible anymore, you let go of Hinata and scramble over to the doorway. Peering around the corner as subtly as you can. He’s taken off his blazer and hung it over the back of his chair, and is in the middle of working his vest up over his head.

Hinata comes up behind you, peering around the corner as well, “What is Komaeda doing?”

“I think he has a spare vest in his desk.” You whisper, “you need to be quiet.”

Your heart is racing in your chest, and your fingers tighten around the doorframe. Komaeda lifts the top of his desk, and his brow furrows when he sees the letter. Gently picking it up and turning it around in his hand. At one point he looks around the room and you have to duck behind the door to make sure he doesn’t notice you. You can barely breathe.

“Wait. What did he just grab?” Hinata asks you, as the two of you lean back out. You don’t reply.

“Oh my god…” Hinata hisses playfully, “someone left a love letter in Komaeda’s desk?”

You’re still focussed on Komaeda’s long fingers as they slowly tear open the envelope, you see your sunflower sticker fluttering down to the ground. Biting your lip, hands shaking, trying to gauge any response.

“Oh my god!” Hinata hisses much less playfully, “ you left a love letter in Komaeda’s desk?!”

“Shh!!” You say, motioning for Hinata to zip it, “I’m watching.”

Komaeda’s eyes are wide as he starts reading, you can see his hands are trembling. Something you’ve written halfway down the page shocks him, he has to go back and read it again to confirm he understood it properly.

“Hmm...that was probably the bit I wrote about how nice his hands are.” You whine nervously, “oh god , I’ve made myself seem like a creep haven’t I?” You whisper, turning back to look at Hinata.

“Komaeda is not the sort to get creeped out.” Hinata mumbles, “I didn’t even know you liked him.”

Your other hand wraps around the doorframe as you lean out a little more, trying to get a better view of Komaeda’s face, “that’s the point of a secret.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell him. You know your talent would answer the question for you if you used it right?”

You huff, “I don’t want to use it. I want to be normal .”

“Ļ̴͕̳̮̏̊̌͝͠ͅi̷͕͋̇̿̈́͐̉̈̒̆͂̆͘̚͜͝k̵̨̹͍̩͂̎͑̔̏͂́̽͛͋̓͝e̶̦̣͎͕̦͈͉͖͆́̈́̈́̋̓̊̕ ̵̛̛̛̟̩̺͉͛̄̉̈́͗̃m̷̢̢͖͇̣̞̱̮̱͕̥͂̌ĕ̷̺̝?̶̡̞̬̲͕̜̩̪̫̥̙̦̮͇̉̈̈́͘̚͝”

You freeze, so does Komaeda. The whole school comes to a standstill, “what do you mean, like you?”

When you turn to look at Hinata again, he is gone. You blink your eyes, maybe he just ran off? Either way, your attention was brought back into the classroom by a gentle gasp.

Komaeda has a hand clapped over his mouth, chest heaving as he finishes reading the letter.

Your heart is racing, your knees are starting to hurt from crouching around the corner. You wonder if he knows that it was you

It was you

It wa̷̢̨̖̪̥̹̤̼̭͚͈͑͆͑͆͐̈̆̂̒̍̿́͝͝s you

It was you

It waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaā̵̡̪̦̰͚̭̩̼͎̪͈͋͛͗̃̕͜͝͝ͅạ̵̭͎̥̱͎̹̭̺̰͎̈́͐̒̕a̴̹̜̟̺̞̓͆͒͗͝ä̵̟̼̟̥͎͔̯̯̜́̌̈́̿a̵̹͖͍̙͇̘͍͕͙̅̅͊̌̈́̒̃ạ̴̢̗͉̘̰͉̺̹͍͛͐̆̊͐͘͘͝ͅä̶̡̮͔̹̩̪́̊͒̉̉̕̕͠ă̶̻̓̍̌̚ḁ̵̢̢̢̧̞̱̥̠͕͚̉̋a̴̠͇̻͉̘̐̿͆̄̀̈̀̅̋̅a̷̢̰̙̦̮̘̲̓͝ͅͅa̷̝͖̜̋̈͛̈́̐͌̾̓̃͘s̷̰̻̼̲͓̮̺͌̑̓̃͒̋̏͆̐͌̌̐ ̵̧̙̹̬̞̦̝̓͗͊͌͠ỹ̷̯̯̃́̃̎͋̈́̏̎o̸̩͉͍̗̯̠̙̬̱̩͔̾̅̊̂̾̿̍̌̓̌͘͝u̶̻̳̪̪̻͕̜͜

“Are you alright?” Sensei Yukizome asks.

You blink. Your eyes feel heavy, your brain feels like static. You’re back in class, sitting at your desk. The rest of 77-B has gone quiet, they’re all watching you intently, “I’m...fine.”

Yukizome cocks her head to the side, brows pulled tight with confusion, “Your head hit the desk pretty hard. Are you sure Tsumiki-san doesnt need to have a look at you?”

Not matter how many times you blink, the world never seems to fully come back into focus. You feel sick to your stomach, “What are we doing again?”

“You’re meant to be writing outlines for your practical exams. Descriptions of your strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing.” She is starting to look very concerned.

You swallow and look down at your page. It’s completely blank, you haven't written anything this whole time, “I havent started…”

When you look over towards the window, your eyes lock on Hinata. He is wearing a white shirt with a green tie. His uniform is completely gone

(Why ạ̴̢̗͉̘̰͉̺̹͍͛͐̆̊͐͘͘͝ͅre there five desks in the front ro̸̩͉͍̗̯̠̙̬̱̩͔̾̅̊̂̾̿̍̌̓̌͘͝w? Why does our clạ̴̢̗͉̘̰͉̺̹͍͛͐̆̊͐͘͘͝ͅss have an odd number of students when no other do̸̩͉͍̗̯̠̙̬̱̩͔̾̅̊̂̾̿̍̌̓̌͘͝es?)

Your head is pounding, and you can feel a distant tether to someone you cannot see or hear. Aching like a phantom limb. You stand up.

“Something is definitely wrong” Yukizome says, backpeddling from your desk when you suddenly shoot up, “Do you want someone to take you to the sick bay?”

You shake your head, “I’m just going to stand by the window for a second. I’m just feeling a little dizzy.”

She nods slowly, “Alright, but if you don't start feeling better, let me know and i'll call your parents, okay?”

“Sure…”

As you walk over to the window, something makes you glance at Hinata’s paper. Something unspooling the memories in the back of your mind whispers, s̵o̵m̴e̶t̵h̵i̴n̸g̸ ̸i̷s̶ ̵n̴o̸t̸ ̵r̷i̵g̴h̸t̵.̵

Hinata’s paper, which should be a detailed explanation of his talent. Is incomprehensible. A series of jumbled letters and numbers blurring and shifting on the page, like trying to read a book in a dream. Dread seeps inside you, and it becomes a full tidal wave when you look up at the window, and see Hinata is now standing outside. You whirl around and see only the empty space where an extra fifth desk once was, the Hinata inside the classroom is gone.

Ḧ̷̢͓̰̤́̍ḭ̵͎̋̈́̒n̸̩͎͋͐̃̊̑a̸̧͉̻̩͙͗̔̓̚ț̵͎̫͑̈́ḁ̴̛̫̞̫̒ ̴̡͇͙̄̒͛̋w̷̡̮͈̍a̴̧̘͙͌s̷͍̫̫͑̊ ̴̭͎͙̆͑̀͑ņ̷̩̈̌e̸̢̡̧͕͍͆̋̋͊̈v̷̳̼̎̌͐͘ȩ̸̙̱̮͆̂r̸͙̭͔͊̂̈́͘ ̴̧̗̣̠͚̉̏̈́͝͝ẗ̵͍̪́h̵̢̤̏̉ȩ̸̩͔r̴̮͐ē̵̘̰̼̕

Heaving a shaky breath you turn back to the window. You freeze. Eyes locked on the figure lurking down by the tree in the garden, he stands completely still, staring up at you with red eyes that you can feel nothing behind. A maw of darkness chews on you from all sides as your stomach tightens. You’re going to throw up.

The person. (Hinata?) his eyes don’t turn from yours.

nothing nothing nothing nothing

N̸̡̬͕͓̪̝̙̙͙̊͑̎̎̔̎̒͋́͑͜ͅǫ̶̛̗̺̖͊͊͝t̶̼̩̣͔͎̭̜̦͓̂͌͌̓̎͐͆́͜͝ͅḫ̵̢̞̙̯̳͍̼̜̥̰̝̉̈́̀͊͆͐̌͘i̸̡̤͌̓̔̐̂̈́̔̆̇̇̎͌̇ň̴̝̬͔̞̓̔́͛̋́̐̓̾̾͘̕͠ġ̴̢̲̩̼̠͓̗̭̯͍̱̔̈́ ̷̡̳͕͓̗̳͍̣̯̘͚͓̼̠̉̎ń̴͙͚̯̪̤̼̳̹̮̓͛̅̍́̔͒̐̑̏͜͝ó̶̢̪̋͐͋̋͑͐̃̐̀̃͝ͅt̶̢͉̺͕͉̥̽̈́͝h̴̨̨̟̣͇͙̖̉̀i̴̠̲͊͗̌͊̚͘͝ͅn̷̹͒͌͂̕ͅg̷̨͓͔͓͔̹̜̻̙̺͆̽̂͐ ̶̧̛̦̯͍͆͂̈̇̂̇̿͑̐̋n̸̨̧̧͇̼̖̗̗̦͑͆̈́̐̅̓͒̽͂̃̕͝o̴̧̳͎͕̟͒͗̈́̅͑̓́͛͝ẗ̷̨̧̛͍̬͕̫̬̻̰͓̳͗h̷͈̹̻̰̪͍͖͎̿̈́̀͌͌̊̕͜i̵̧̛̫̊̒̈͑̆̈́͘n̷̯̱̓͊̀ģ̶̧̫͇̦̰͕͈̖͓̃͘ ̵̢̨̡̪̪̯͈̾͆̿̃ͅn̵̢̞͚̠̩̦͙͈̰̻̱̩͗͜͜ơ̷̡̲̯̇̽̐t̵͚͓́̓̈́̊̏͌͑̐̋͐̅̈́͘h̶̢̗͈̖͉̪͚͔̏̽̈́i̴̡͍̜͇̗̬̩̺͎͈̐͐n̶̛͕̪̂̽̌̒̃̾̿͌̽g̴̗̲̰͈̜̳̮͙͓̼͍̒̅̂̐͗͋͛͗͜

and just before you bend forward and hurl all over your shoes. His eyes blink once . Bored.

There are stories being told behind your closed eyelids. Stories of death and pain. Your eyes are fluttering and spinning but they wont open, you can't open them. Your talent makes you sick, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts-

“Ah, good. You’re awake”

Komaeda is sitting in a plastic chair to your right. You are covered from your feet to your collarbones in an itchy blanket. The room smells like hand sanitizer.

“Oh.” You whisper, “I’m in the sick bay?”

“Yes. You lost consciousness by the window.” He laughs nervously, “I carried you over. I figured that studying for the practical exam isn't really something I need to worry about. It’s all going to come down to my luck anyway.”

You nod slowly. Still trying to slot the pieces together in your head. What made you pass out again? Dehydration?

The world is swirling, Komaeda reaches a hand out as if to steady you. His face is little more than a blur and you try to grab his hand as a way to ground yourself as the bed below you feels intangible, “Hey…” He whispers, “are you…”

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus only on the sound of your breathing. When you open your eyes again, Komaeda is still there, but everything else is gone.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his hair is longer and more unruly, the bags under his eyes are deep and purple. The sky behind his head is a shock of red and smoke, “Your hands are shaking.”

When your eyes snap down to where your hands are gripping his. Bile crawls up your throat, your breath is coming quick and sharp. This doesn't make sense, why is this happening? Your head spins and twists and your heart is beating a rapid tattoo in your chest. The hand that should be gripping Komaeda’s, is instead gripping the limp wrist of a woman's hand, a sickening mixture of purple and black blotting its once pale flesh, red fingernails resting on your wrist. Your other hand is gripping a needle and thread, shaking as you are halfway through tugging a length of fishing line through the bleeding stump of Komaeda’s left forearm.

You shriek and scramble backwards, head colliding with what is once again the wall of the school infirmary. Komaeda pulls his hand back, it is his hand again.

“Ah, sorry. I shouldn't have tried to touch you.” He laughs goodnaturedly, “Even someone who confesses their love to me is too disgusted by my filth. I should have known better.” he smiles, “This is why i must decline your affections, you see, for me to dirty you with my touch. It would be a waste.”

You want to comfort him, to pull him into your arms and tell him that his touch does the opposite of disgusting you, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The sound of your heart beating in your ears is thunderous, you can still smell the rotting flesh of the dead woman's hand, still feel the sting of smoke in your eyes.

S̵̟̥̒̕͝o̵̧̯̔͛m̸̢̛͙̈́̋͛͜e̵̛̲͍̰̿̆͜ţ̶̰͐̈͆ͅh̴̟͐̕ḯ̶͓̤̏͝n̶͔͈̼̙͆̑͂̉g̵̩̖̔͊̊ ̸̢͚̆̐ͅi̶̻̋̔̕͝s̶̢̍̚ ̷̧͚̀͌ẁ̵̛̭̬̘̕͝r̶͎̖͈̋̓o̴̯̹̒̈͗̚n̴͙̲̂̽͘g̸͖͍̽̈́ ̷̫̘̠̾̊w̸͎̻̾i̷̳̮̫͊̏̇t̵̛͇̚h̴̤͙͆͗̍ ̷̨͚̹͇̃y̸̓̉��̲̦o̸͚͋̓͊͝ủ̶̹͖̈́.̵͖̔̔͋͘

Then. A realisation.

“Wait. Confess their love to you?”

“The note you left.” His head cocks to the side, “Did you forget? You had written so many kind things about me, I can't even believe half of them.” He sighs and his eyes attempt to meet yours. You stare at his shoulder instead, “I would not want you to waste your affections on me. You can do infinitely better.”

“Are you...rejecting me?”

Komaeda gives you a sad smile. The walls of the sick bay flicker and turn to static behind his head, “Please don’t misunderstand. You are wonderful, that you even confessed to me at all is...outstanding, you have so much to give and you shouldn't waste your love on someone who

is ğ̸̰̫͍̰̥̌̊̌̃͊̾͘͝͠͠o̴̰̊i̷̩͙͖͓͒͐̽̑́̈́̑͝ͅn̷̢̡̼̼̩̘̪͍̼̻̖̙̓̆̂̄̒͊g̸̛̤̼̲͐̏̌͐͊̽͗̀̄̐̓ ̶͎͑͒̋̐͗͂͘͝t̶̨̢͔̝̥̼̤̥̜͎̗͋̑̽̏̍̈͂̎̏͊̚ͅǫ̷̧̻̗̭̜̟̜͎̪̠̭͙͊̈́͛̊̔͘ ̷̳̇̿̀̑̂̂̉̄̓͘͜͝͠d̶̟͎̯͆̏̓̾̿̎̾́͗̓͒͘͠i̴͚̥͕̫͉͇̳̤̍̂͜ͅễ̴̡̛͇̭̤͎̙̙͓̟̞̖̘̓̎͆̀̋̐̕ ̴̥̜̦̬̩̟̪̼̮͔͆͋̋͋̉͜͠ḑ̸̙̙͍͑̅͋̽ỉ̶̛͈͓͚̻͋̅̒e̸̢̧̤̦͚̖̩͗͆͌̾́͂̃̉̊̐̾́͝͝ͅ ̸̧̜̬̲͚̽ͅd̸̛̛̲͊́̔̆̈́̍́̊͊͗̚̕ḯ̶̢̡̗͕̳̭͇̗̫̤͎̮͖̝̃̔̈́̈́̕͘͘͜e̴̪̥̲̖͓̬̹̗̙̽͗̍͑̋̏̆̄̑̆̿̕̚͘͝ ̵͓͓̦̽͒̐́̀̎̇͠d̴̡͋̍̅̽̍̌̄̏͑̈́̃͗̚͘i̴͖̠͈̾̀͂̄̕͘͘͝ę̶̞͐̑̍͒̎̽͗̿̑̇̅͘͝ ̴̪̝̬̂͌̎͗̚d̴̡̛̘͖̊̈́̾͊̌̆͂͛̐̓̏͝i̵̡̩͈̮͇͉͎̯̍̓͌ͅe̸̖͎̥̦̞̺̗͚̍ͅ ̵͍̬̳̞̰͖͍͕̫̥̝̑̋̂͝d̷͇̭͎̯̻͈̜̝̜̗̗͂̋͌͊̀͘ĩ̷̮̰̂̌́͂͗̐̅̕͘̚͝ȩ̸̢̰͓͎̪̤̦̼̣̭̲̫͔͐̍̀͗̈́̾̈̚̕̕ ̷͉͔͈͔͙̖̟̣͙̭͊̅̐̓̈́͛̇̓̾͑̈́́d̶͓̲͍͉̱͕̼̰̥͖͍̥̱͓̂́͑͛͗̈̈̎̍͊̇̿͋̔͠i̵̡͎̠͑̏̈́̿̇̚͝ę̴͇̬͈̫͈͚͓̰̥̝̣̫̑͆͋͑͛̈́͐̓̕̚͜ͅ ̵͉͈̿̈́͛͌̈́͆̓̒d̷͇́̇̂͛i̸̳͎̳̲̙̎͐̐̾͊̔́̈́̉͂̈̕ȇ̸̟̰͂̈́̂̚͜ ̴̝̣͓͕̤͚͕͈͍̻̐̈́̀͆͒͗̋̽͋͠d̸̡̼͈̘̮̪͉̭̯͎͍̪͚̋͛͛̃̀̔̌ͅi̷͚̖̥̫̲͉̩̒͂̓̈́̓̚ẻ̵̡̨̹̞̮̗̦̄͑͐̑̔͆̚ ̷̜̰̖̦̓̽̏͂̓̈́̊͘͠d̸̛̜̞̫͎͕͙͈͋͌̋͌̓i̴̟̱̲͉̟͔̇̑̅̔̃̽̑̑͑͐è̴͍̱̫̱̮͌̆͗̿͆̽̃̋ͅ”

His mouth is still moving like he is speaking real words. But all you can hear is that one word repeated over and over and over. Your heart is racing, you have no idea what is happening. Komaeda is just talking like nothing is wrong, the world is turning to glass out of the corner of your eyes. Breaking and reforming again behind your eyelids.

Komaeda disappears, like he was just erased from existence and you suddenly realise that you are crying. One of the tears catches on your finger, and shimmers in ways that are unnatural. What is happening to you?

There’s a creaking noise on the other side of the room and you scramble backwards on the sick bed as the boy who looks like Hinata comes in through the door. He makes no move to approach you, he stands stiffly by the doorway and watches .

You wipe the tears from your face with the back of your hand, “who are you?! What have you done with Hinata?”

“I have done nothing to Hinata. His fracturing was yours and yours alone.” He says. His voice is familiar. It digs its claws deep inside of you.

“His... fracturing? ” A sob hiccups in your throat, “What are you talking about?”

The boy doesn’t answer.

“Can you please leave me alone? ” You sniffle, wiping away more tears, “I’m having a hard enough day as it is.”

“If it brings you comfort, you will ask Komaeda many more times.” The strange boy says, staring off into the middle distance, “he will say yes on the sixth.”

“Wha- He will…?” You whisper, “How do you know?”

His eyes turn to you and you get a crawling feeling under your skin, like he is looking straight through you, “This world is fabricated, but much of it is based in reality.”

“I...what?” You blink up at him, confused, “fabricated? What are you talking about?”

“A defense mechanism. All in your mind.”

You laugh nervously, “this isn’t a very funny joke…”

“I do not joke.” He continues staring, you refuse to meet his eyes, “use your talent. If you are too afraid to believe me.”

You swallow, “I...I can’t .”

“No. You won’t ” he sighs, disappointed, “a waste of potential, predictable. Boring.”

“Fine. If this world isn’t real, how are you here?” You say, “I doubt I would create someone just to ruin my own illusion.”

“I am not from here. I have been sent to help.” His eyes are empty, his expression unchanging, “Your world is crumbling, and you need to leave it.”

“Nothing is crumbling . What is wrong with you?”

“Your denial is wasting our time. Your mind is trying to make assurances where it should not, trying to put together the pieces of three different puzzles all at once and they just don’t fit.” He takes a few steps forward, eyes still boring into you, “This ideal world you have created is not sustainable, cherry picking the good parts of three separate lives does not result in stability. If you don’t leave here, the walls will collapse around you, and you will die in the rubble.” He reaches a hand out to you, “come with me. We’ll untangle the mess of your memories, then tell me how you feel about staying.”

You are hesitant when you take his hand. The moment feels significant, like a leap into the void. You are surprised at how warm his hand is, for some reason you had expected it to be cold. He doesn't lead you anywhere like you were anticipating, instead he presses his other hand on top of yours and closes his eyes.

The smell hits you like a wall. People always say that scent has a strong connection to memory and a fondness you have never known breathes life into your lungs. It smells like autumn, bitter winds and pumpkin spice. Sandalwood, a hint of cinnamon apple and…

“Komaeda?”

His eyes turn to you, his face tight with nervousness.

“Are you okay?”

He giggles nervously, the sound echoing in the empty classroom, “Oh, me? I’m fine! My concern is what will happen to you if someone walks in and sees us like this.”

When Komaeda says like this , he means sitting together on the windowsill. Not exactly scandalous, but his own perpetual self-loathing has morphed it into something downright sinful.

There’s a brisk wind dancing through the autumn leaves outside the window. Red and orange trapezing through the sky. Komaeda has a thick green scarf wrapped around his neck and his nose is turning pink in the cold. He looks adorable.

Your mouth pulls into a firm line and you clutch your hands together in your lap, “You know i'm not trying to hide you from anyone, right?”

“And that is very kind of you. I’m sure no one would judge you poorly for hiding our relationship.” He smiles warmly, “I am human garbage, after all.”

“Komaeda, I want to tell people.” You say, rotating in place to face him more directly, “You think i confessed my feelings for you six times as a joke?”

“I did consider that at first, but the more i think about it…” He averts his eyes, cheeks turning a little pink, “It does seem like your feelings are...genuine. No matter how misguided.”

You huff and leap up from the windowsill, facing Komaeda with your hands on your hips, “You want proof that i'm not ashamed of you? Fine. I’ll do it!”

“Huh?” Komaeda breathes, “You’ll do what ?”

It is with great purpose that you cross the room over to the blackboard. Grabbing a stick of chalk and writing in big looping letters, Nagito Komaeda and I are DATING , underneath you sign it with your name. You are not about to let this be misconstrued. Komaeda is more important to you than the opinions of your classmates, you are willing to let Saionji tease you for months to come if it means he understands just how much you care. You gesture at the blackboard, “Do you get it now?”

He’s just staring at you, one hand cupped over his mouth, eyes glimmering with the beginnings of tears, and something much warmer underneath, “But...but class is going to start again in 10 minutes and everyone will-”

You cut him off, walking back over to the windowsill and cupping his face in both of your hands. Brushing an errant tear away with your thumb, you smile, “I know . That’s kind of the point.”

He gives you a watery smile, reaching his hand up to interlock his fingers with yours where they rest on your cheek. He is shaking, but it's a good kind of nervous, you can feel it behind his eyes, “I don’t deserve you…”

You laugh and press your lips to his tear stained cheek, “Yes you do.”

Then, almost as quickly as it began. The memory fades, behind Komaeda’s head you watch the sun set and rise over and over, faster and faster. Yellow, orange, blue and then purple keeps crossing Komaeda’s face like someone is tipping over a bucket of paint. He’s still smiling up at you, a hopeful expression frozen in time and you realise with horror that you can no longer feel his skin under your hands.

“No…” you whisper, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair only to find it intangible. A sob cuts loose from your throat.

“A good memory.” A voice says from behind you. That boy who looks like Hinata is standing in the doorway. His hair seems longer and darker, the tips are kissing his jawline. You’d almost forgotten he existed, “I decided it best to start simple. Your mind would not have handled something more intense.”

The sun is still rotating outside the window, light cascading through the classroom and then fading into darkness every few seconds. Like a subway train passing by a station.

“Is this the future?” You ask, voice wavering.

“No. It is the past.” He doesn't give you the time to ask anymore questions, though he can tell that you want to, “The next memory will be difficult. I will not ask if you are ready, because you will not be.”

#this took so long lol #i think three more chapters to go?#next one is gonna be EFFED UP #komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

the first step is always the hardest.

Pairing: au!dean winchester x reader

Summary: Huntercorp!Dean asks you out on a date.

A/N: I'm happy with how this one turned out. It's very different from my usual to do, but so cute! au!dean lives in my and in brazil right now sjhsjs. Anyway, this is my part for @firefly-in-darkness 2k challenge! Congrats again, honey. My prompt was “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe.” And this was requested by @anaelsbrunette.

Warnings: mutual pining and adorableness.

Some things aren't supposed to be hard. In Dean Winchester's opinion, this is one of them. What he's about to do isn't quite professional or preferred by his dad -- although, not exactly against HunterCorp's strict code of conduct. Alright, he might have to report to HR about the relationship due the anti-harassment policy if you two ever get that far, but that's another point. The fact right now is, it shouldn't be this hard to blurt out a simple 'would you like to go out with me?' towards the woman he had been pining for weeks.

Dean asked girls out before, and three out five said yes. Usually, his goofy way of flirting is enough to make them take the lead. When it doesn't happen, though, the Winchester laces his hang out proposal with wiggling brows and a suggestive smirk. They'd laugh and a date was settled.

He isn't shy. Dean gets embarrassed easily and yes, he is a little too spoiled to have a larger vision of the world, but he can get his way with the women he's interested in. Therefore, it shouldn't be that difficult, right? In theory, safely hiding in the back of his head, it isn't. The hunter remains passing some vague steps on his mind: 1.) Go to you. 2.) Try not to get lost at the sight of you. 3.) Don't try his Spanish to impress you because it's not going to work. 4.) Smile in a boyish way, just being cool. 5.) Ask you out. Samuel said it was a good plan. He just needs to execute it, get through his words and make them into actions.

So why is it so excruciatingly hard?

You, a HunterCorp's rookie, recently graduated in their new worldwide program to recruit willing hunters that weren't born in the life. You are smart, bilingual, pretty, strategic, spontaneous, and strong. You laugh loud as if joy should be going inside everyone's ear, but you also fight to kill with both words and trained combat skills. You, one of the best hunters of HunterCorp, which is the only thing Dean would ever try to say he was compared to you. You, Y/N Y/L/N, the girl with fancy red boots and tight jeans, is everything Dean never dreamed of and way out of his league.

You are a ferocious scream in civility that shakes his ground and makes him want to know how human savagery felt like after years being spoiled. You tease the green eyed hunter, never leading to evilness, and always with a beam that makes him feel lucky to be the fool to your kingdom. Dean feels comfortable with you, like taking his expensive socks off at home and chuckling with his mouth full, or even attempting a new food that makes his tongue experience marvelous flavors never felt before.

The eldest Winchester brother is almost dancing around his own feet for five minutes and counting. Gulping nervously every time he hears the noise of a door opening as he shuts his eyes, picturing the perfect ending of 'asking Y/N on a date' plan.

Okay, fine. Maybe he does have a reason for envisioning the possible difficulties of this situation. How could he not? Dean wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking you out again if you said no today. It's a now or never situation. How can he not be sweating in his levis?

“Duncan?” you ask, your voice exhaling a name that isn't his, but it catches Dean's attention nonetheless. He must have been listening what you were saying before even turning around to catch a glimpse of you. “Duncan!”

You poke his arm, causing him to move quickly to face you. Despite getting his name wrong, you look gorgeous: your hair was a mess like usual after spending too long in your office, sunglasses on the top of your head, and a joyful grin on your painted lips.

He straightens his posture to regain some confidence. “Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Your eyebrows knit together in a weight of confusion. "Who are you?"

This is it, his mind whispers. Rule number four, be cool. Say that thing that guy says in the movie which Sammy made you watch! Dean licks his lips, leaning against the counter. He shrugs, attempting to get in a persona that would only be him in another universe. “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe. You know, Dean Winchester.”

His shoulders drop as you let out a laugh, and suddenly the perfect threat in his fantasy became a funny joke. He doesn't even waste time being too embarrassed, though: he loves that sound.

“I'm kidding, Dean Winchester. I know who you are. You know, you're kind of the owner of this building?” you say humorously, pointing around the establishment.

Dean's brows arch quickly as he replies: “Technically, it's my father.”

“Who cares about the technical, right?” Of course you would say that with your own sequin smile and a playful wink. Who gives you the right to make his heart go wild? God, he sounds like a chick-flick. “Anyway, do you need something? I noticed you standing at my door.”

“Yes.” His stupendous moment. The stage is his and he better make it worth it. Dean's going to ask you out now, and then, he sees your features changing into curiosity. You're so adorable with your soft frown and head cocked, hair cascading down like one of the surrealistic paintings decorating his office walls. It reminds the Winchester of the way their brilliant colors and space tangle together to make something so gorgeous he couldn’t bear to give it another name but art. God, what if you say no? What if you say yes? What if everything is weird after that? “No. I mean, yes. I...”

“Are you okay?” You place a hand on his bicep. One touch, a blaze starting to burn in the best ways. His heart gives out, beating too crazily to be properly felt -- that doesn't help one bit.

“Yeah, this muchacho is okay.” Dean points at himself with two thumbs. Here goes all the rules in less than three minutes of chatting. He sighs to himself, offering you a pageant smile. “Just forget about it. I was going to ask for a report on your last hunt, but you can send it to my email.”

“Sure thing. I'll send you them after I come back from lunch. McDonald's waits for me.” The Winchester doesn't know if his mind is playing tricks on him, but he can swear he saw disappointment on your face. It could've been that tell, your hair brushing your lips like he craves to, or even how you blink so adorably under the dim light that makes a sudden glimmer of newfound courage hit him. Granted, it's with a trembling voice, but still.

“Maybe I could go have lunch with you?” Dean can practically hear his brother saying, be assertive, ask her out. He rushes to correct himself. “You. You could grab lunch with me. If you want. We could go have lunch together.”

“You like McDonald's?” You bit your bottom lip, arms crossed despite your subtle chortle.

“Of course.” Dean scoffs, gaining a glare of yours for a few seconds before he sighs with a shrug, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks. “No. Processed food isn't a thing in my house. Dad likes to spoil us with homemade meals and scotch.”

“Well, I'm sure John doesn't know how to cook quesadillas. I know the perfect place we can go.” You grab his wrist, and despite all empirical evidence to the contrary of such strong euphoria stemming from a simple touch, he goes against every scientific rule and gets to heaven on earth. “And Dean?”

His voice is lighter, happier by that mere gentle gesture which causes Dean's cheeks to dimple with branded delight as he answers: “Yes?”

You don't bother pulling your hand away. Instead, you intertwined your fingers, smiling like a baby when you notice his sweaty palm. At least you aren't the only nervous here. “Our second date will be at McDonald's.”

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Blighted

For my precious Sunshine, @5-secondsofcolor's birthday!! Which is technically now, because it is 1 AM on the 20th of May and I am a mad woman. Love you and I hope you have an amazing day, when you see this of course.

Here is your fic, FBI/Behavior Analyst!Calum. Female OC.

Ivy says she's cursed after taking the same career path that took her father's life. Calum's new on the team, a liaison and media specialist, but he's looking to get his toes wet.

AKA your regular old jaded pessimist veteran and bright eyed rookie buddy cop story. Please enjoy!

CW: In depth descriptions of death/crime scenes. Depictions of violence, gore, and blood.

Enjoy my masterlist (on a haitus)

Search for more writing in the h writes tag

________________________

The whiteboard never leaves. It glows behind her closed eyelids. When staring down at the neck of a bottle, she sees it floating just as the bottom of her drink. She’s cursed. But she knew that the moment she tried out for the academy. The second the thought floated across her mind, she would be doomed just like her father. Ivy tried her best to reroute herself--she got into the arts, was first chair flute in her highschool’s orchestra. She was president of the Homecoming committees her junior and senior year, and worked during the summers at her church's camp.

And yet when she went into school for her degree, she gravitated towards psychology and criminal justice. She saw her mother’s fear. The closer it came to graduation and the more the two of them talked about what she would do after graduating, the more the thought lingered, I want to get into the Bureau like Dad. But she couldn’t utter that. She couldn’t say those words without tears welling up in her mother’s eyes.

Ivy suspected her mother always knew about the desires. Ivy didn’t remember all the nights clearly, but sometimes she’d peek out her bedroom door and see the glow of the light downstairs. Ivy followed it, side stepping the creaky fourth step from the top and from between the banister’s she’d find her dad sitting at the dining room table. The kitchen light glowed from behind him and his tie would barely hang on around his neck.

“Boo,” he’d say quietly, knowing the slight shuffle of Ivy’s feet.

“How’d you know I was there, Daddy?” she’d ask, carrying herself the rest of the way down the stairs and make her way through the living room to climb into his lap.

“I can hear your feet above me,” he’d respond, pointing above them.

And they’d spend an hour, sitting at the dining room table. Ivy asked about her dad’s latest trip. He only ever told her when she was young that they were helping save people, putting bad people away. Ivy wonders if this is where it started. If this was where her father casted the spell, leaving Ivy somehow starry eyed about what it really was he did. Ivy would always look at this job with a little bit of that hope that her younger self had, and she’d always be fucked to never be able to walk away from this line of work.

It would kill her--much like it had killed her dad. But unlike him, she’d see the bullet spiral out of the barrel. Her dad had her and her mother to get back too. It wasn’t a weakness. Ivy admired her father for sticking with his dreams and also making the hard calls to make sure his family knew he cared too. But the need to decide would always be a slight hindrance, would always be the key to living or dying in this line of work.

All that’s left of her father, besides the memories and a few of his old t-shirts that got remade into pillows, is the whiteboard she keeps at her desk. There’s a whiteboard for the entire team to use of course. But this whiteboard is the one that her father used in his office. The one where he made his notes, scribbles. The one she’d write notes to him in the bottom left corner that never disappeared until she wanted to replace the note with something new.

“Thomas, look alive, and enjoy.” The manilla folder hits her desk with a quiet thwack. Ivy blinks from the whiteboard up to her senior officer. Kennedy carries on, dropping folders on every desk and each one of them stands without needing any further prompting.

Kennedy’s been in the field for years. It was all over his face with the deep frown lines. His brow seemed permanently furrowed, as if he questioned every waking second. Ivy liked to tease he worried even about sleep. But no one could sink a decade and a half into this line of work and not come out on the other side with a healthy amount of suspicion.

“And where’s this new guy?” Kennedy asks, glancing over the office.

Ivy looks up from her copy of the file. She heard rumors of someone else coming by the office, assisting them occasionally on cases. But those rumors floated around weeks ago, long enough that she chalked it up to just that--rumors. It doesn’t shock her though. Things start at rumors often, and sometimes they come to fruition and sometimes they don’t. Ivy follows Kennedy’s eyeline and doesn’t spy any new faces.

“Want me to keep an eye out for any lost souls?” Ivy offers, glancing back up to Kennedy.

“Nah, I need your eyes on this one. Head up to the conference room and I’ll be there once he shows up.”

With a nod, Ivy closes the file. She swipes the whiteboard from her desk with a couple markers and heads up to the conference room. The rest of the team sat flipping through their files too, Jenkins sitting right near the front but moved down one seat. They’re not new, having been around for a couple years. But Ivy can tell their type--getting in chummy with the boss, trying too hard. They’re a good addition, but Ivy’s waiting for the day they take a hunch and it doesn’t lead to the results they want. A loss will show their true colors, how well they can handle being wrong sometimes. No one on the team is perfect, they’re all hedging bets. Ivy’s taken her lumps of hunches being made too late, or the wrong bets placed. They’re not often. No one likes them. But they happen.

Diaz, Russell, and Burke and scattered throughout the rest of the table. The three of them have been there longer than Ivy. But they all accepted her with open arms. Diaz and Burke were more muscular. They had the brains to match, but they came up the pipeline from their local PD departments and aren’t afraid to get into a tussle. More often than not, Ivy winds up pulling Burke from fights than she’d care to admit. Diaz’s much too big for Ivy to attempt physically restraining, so she referee’s those fights that he gets into.

Russell’s their man behind the screen. He was good at getting through the internet loops, figuring out how to sort databases for the information they need without so much red tape and delay. He preferred to stay behind the lines, but could handle a tussle. Ivy doesn’t count herself as the brains. But her gut had some sort of true north needle that, more often than not, was right. She could see patterns faster than most, could sniff the air after someone and assess how much she could and wanted to trust. Kennedy consulted her often. Whenever she felt like she had something, he’d hush the crowd for her to formulate the full thought. Kennedy didn’t always agree with her assessment, but had to listen to it. He needed to listen to it.

“Nope,” Russell huffs, shutting the folder. “Fucking hell. Kennedy told me it was rough, but I didn’t--I didn’t think it was this rough.”

Ivy settles in next to him sliding him a marker. She draws roughly a tic-tac-toe board. “It not getting easier for you is a good sign.”

Russell makes his first move, the marker squeaking just a little. Ivy follows up with hers. She knows if she makes it too obvious, too easy, Russell will forfeit the game. So she tries to play along, like she’s vying to win.

Russell places his second X though his hands shake just a hair. “Yeah, but compared to you guys, I feel like if someone took a gnarly enough shit it would make me queasy.”

“A bad enough shit could do that to anyone,” Diaz pipes in, his own folder still open but his forearms pressed down over the photographs. Russell’s been around the block, definitely seem some rough things, but has always had a softer view of the world. Still wants it to be good despite all the bad he’s seen.

Ivy places down her second O, noticing the pretty obvious wide open spot she left Russell but looks up to Diaz. “I think I heard through the grapevine you were on the losing end of one of those shits yesterday,” she teases.

Diaz reclines into his seat, his chest bouncing with his laughter. “All because of your cooking Thomas.”

“My cooking is not that bad,” she defends, the cap of her black marker pointing him out.

Burke snickers too with a shake of her head and opens her mouth to speak but the room fills with the voice of Kennedy. “Aren’t y’all old enough to be left alone not to talk about shit for five minutes?”

“Never too old to talk shit, sir,” Diaz returns, his smile lifting only half his face up. He’s a charmer, whenever they go out to bars out manage to get a moment’s peace not hounded by work, he never seems to be at a lack of folks coming up to him. He’s already got a girl, but with the hair that cascades always neatly placed and the dazzling bright grin, anyone could fall for it.

Kennedy huffs his laughter quickly and then shuffles deeper into the room. “We’ve got a new friend, so let’s play nice.” As Kennedy makes head way, Ivy notices the man behind him. He’s tall. The black dress pants and black dress shirt don’t hide everything beneath them, but Ivy’s not too shocked to see people who work in the field like that with some sort of muscular physique. There’s something about his face though--something about the way his brown eyes dart around the room and his smile never shows any teeth that something familiar tugs at her.

Kennedy goes around the table introducing Ivy first, then going to Russell, coming down to Jenkins, Diaz, and then Burke. Each one of them lifts a hand or nods at their name. “This here is Hood, Calum Hood. Joining us as a new liaison.”

Ivy’s no good with faces sometimes. But names she hardly ever forgets. Hood, she met him once a few years back at a lecture. Not that she did them often, but Kennedy got more face time. But he made sure to spread the love between the team. He asked her to tag along. Calum must’ve been in the crowd, had to be, and had to have asked a question because Kennedy told her to remember that name. And she had.

Kennedy continues on with something. Ivy suspects he’s warning Diaz to keep any hazy tactics to a minimum considering how much of a mess they’re walking into. Ivy nods once more at him, and then faces back to the whiteboard, the tap on her arm prompting her too. I’m a scaredy cat sure, but not dumb, it reads in Russell’s handwriting. She spies his X in the bottom corner, opposite of where he would’ve won.

“Pull up a seat, Hood. We’ll have more time for pleasantries once we’re up in the air. But I want everyone to at least be familiar with this case.”

“Yes, sir.” His voice is smooth, Ivy notes. A soft volume and accented but smoother than she would’ve pegged.

The team breaks down the file, recapping mostly what they’ve already read but Kennedy’s old fashioned this way, needing to make sure people have done their homework. It’s an extra step than completely necessary, but having the quick meetings has always made this team feel more like a second family. There’s always a common goal in mind for them and they’re always reminded of it. No matter what happens out in the field, they all want the same thing.

“We soar in forty-five minutes. So let’s hope wheels can turn in the air. Hood, I need you to keep in mind the local PD’s been taking a lot of heat for the last couple of months. So we don’t want to take too much star power, we’re only here to assist and whatever we can do to put the local’s good grace back onto that PD we need to.”

Not quite what she expected, though with his demeanor and looks, he’s sure to work a crowd or newsroom well. She’s sure he’ll be on the ground with them too.

“Understood,” he replies and with that, all of them push away from the table. “Agent Thomas,” Hood says, reaching out almost as if to touch her elbow but never actually do it. He continues to speak once she looks over to him. “I-I don’t know if you remember. But we met at a lecture a couple years back that you held with Agent Kennedy. And I just wanted to say that I’m excited to be here, working with you all.”

“Thomas, here, does not respond well to flattery. Trust, we’ve all tried,” Diaz laughs, clamping down on Hood’s shoulders.

“I appreciate it,” Ivy responds. “Glad to have a fresh mind on the team.” There’s no smile, at least, not one she’d give Russell, Burke, Diaz, or even Jenkins. But Calum watches her give another curt nod with a quick quirk of her lips, and then leave, stacking her file on top of the whiteboard.

“Don’t sweat it. She’s in work mode,” Diaz assures. “We get off the clock and she’s a hoot. But on the clock, it’s strictly business. I will warn you, Thomas will burn you.”

Calum’s left, watching Diaz, Burke, and Russell leave. Jenkins turned tail the second Kennedy got done. It’s not that he wants to mix business with pleasure. He’s just been studying Thomas, attending as many lectures that she gives as he can. She didn’t always go directly by the book, there was something about her method that used the evidence, used science, but also had some sort of intuition. Thomas just knew things and when attempting to quantify it, she didn’t always have the words for it. Calum just wants to see that in action, understand what it is about knowing that isn’t always present in the facts.

The plane ride is comfortable. Plenty of seats even though they squeak just a little. Calum watches Thomas sit and everyone seems to sit spread out from there, keeping her at some sort of center. “Mobile. They don’t mind the hustle,” Ivy starts.

“Crossing state lines is risky, especially after the escalation,” Burke interjects.

“But wouldn’t that be a reason for it? If all the crimes look different, enough crossing state lines might make the unsub feel confident, like they’re getting away with something.” The entire plane turns to look at him. Calum freezes for a moment. He knows better. He knows so much better than that. Fuck.

“Valid. But we shouldn’t settle. Travel might be part of their job. We’ve got a good cluster to possibly estimate a home base. Get comfortable, perfect the craft here and then spread out. But why come back? Local PD's hadn't quite connected anything, until the return. More families, found exactly the same. Even when they cross state lines, all points wind back to a specific geographical location,” Burke returns.

“Hood, you got the inside of the media. What does it look like?”

Thirty minutes of his forty five was making sure that he could at least nail down this run through. And it’s easy, even with the squeak of Ivy’s dry erase marker, to run down the media reports, what information has been released and what hasn’t been released. He makes note of what the team doesn’t want to get out and what they do want to keep available to the public.

All the while, Calum watches the way Ivy writes over her board, the squeak over and over on specific strokes. He wonders for a moment what she’s writing, what it is that she needs to keep written track of. But he doesn’t get a chance to fully flesh out that thought before he finishes his spill and Diaz cuts in. They’re fast, not quite settling on any one theory. More like compiling the possibilities, not wanting to eliminate things but ranking how plausible they all could be until the pieces click.

The first thing after the flight lands, they head for the precinct. The lead investigator greets them, and there’s no pause. They’re pulled into the frenzy, looking at boards. Calum tries to keep his head in the game, but he is watching Ivy. The way she settles in her chair, her marker always moving. He’s not even sure it’s words anymore, just a constant circular movement. Sure he’s here to help regulate media outlets, and he can do that in his sleep if local PD and media follow his instructions to a T.

But he needs an in, to show he’s more than just the new meat on the chopping block. He’s worth something. “Is the last crime scene still available?” Calum asks.

The room turns to him, well most of the room does. Ivy keeps circling, but she speaks. “The plan’s to go in ten minutes. Whatever’s got you preoccupied, leave it in your go bag.”

Kennedy chuckles, tapping at her foot. “Give the kid a break. He was buried in news coverage the second we got into the door. But Hood, shake the cobwebs. This isn’t your small town’s rodeo anymore. If you need to be caught up, ask. But if you’re going to be in the room, keep those ears open.”

A task easier said than done, but he nods, resting his elbows on his knees. God, they’re going to think I’m an idiot. The room goes back to its normal buzz, but Calum keeps his head buried in his hands.

“Talk to me. What are your theories?”

Calum lifts his head. Ivy’s closer now. He can see the black marks on her hand from where she’s held it up against the swirls and lettering. “Clearly I’m barely treading water here.”

“First day nerves, but you can shake it. You wanted to see the crime scene. Why?”

“Why there? We have indications that the unsub spent a lot of time there, even with the interruptions they've seemed to caused. They're still meticulous. I want to follow their steps. What did they do first? And why? What do they need from a crime scene before it’s done?”

“Good. But what else?”

“What-what do you mean what else?”

She smiles, much different than the first one. It shows her teeth, a bit of a twinkle in her eyes. “What else?”

He goes quiet, reclines back into the seat and closes his eyes for a second. What else? There’s a lot else. “I mean, the next obvious thing is why these victims? But besides that, how comfortable is this person? Do they feel a need to be rushed, fast, get-in-get-out or can they blend in? I have a hunch they can blend in. Maybe people even trust them. They are perfectly ordinary and in essence, they have to be in order for the fantasy to work. Detection means they have to get sloppy. Being sloppy’s not an option, so blending in it is.”

“Bring that to the crime scene.” Something taps his knee and Calum cracks open his eyes to see her, standing. Her whiteboard still gently rests against his knee. She’s not looking at him though. Her gaze is locked onto the board next to him, displaying the crime scene photos.

“What’s your secret?” Calum asks. He’s almost positive she didn’t hear him due to Ivy’s lack of prompt response. But then she turns to him.

“Secret?”

“Thomas, Hood, you comin’ or what?” Kennedy calls. “I can deal without Diaz, but I need you, Thomas.”

“I’ll remember that,” Diaz laughs as they walk through the glass doors of the precinct.

It’s not Calum’s first time at a crime scene. But the second Calum steps through the door a chill runs through him. The carpet and walls are still bloodstained. Everything about it the scene just feels wrong, makes Calum want to immediately step back out of the house.

“You feel that?” Burke asks. She continues on deeper into the house, slipping into her gloves.

“This is when Thomas says she’s too Black for all this and gets the hell out of dodge,” Diaz barks. He squats down to the blood on the carpet. Ivy’s already deep into the house, seemingly guided by a force unwillingly to let her go. She doesn’t respond verbally, just lifts her hand, the middle finger extended out in the general direction of Diaz.

And Calum is standing near the threshold of the door, trying to pinpoint why it feels so cold in a house in Texas in the middle of the summer. His hands feel sticky even inside the latex gloves. His first step is shaky but he stops next to Diaz. “There are drag marks from the blood,” Calum notes. “This isn’t where they were killed, just staged.”

“The unsub staged all the victims here in the living room. We know that. Pictures show the parents at the ends of the sofa, children in the middle, dog on the floor.”

“But there’s blood on the walls. We know the Dad’s 6’1,” Calum returns.

“And we don’t have forced entry. So, whoever is wreaking havoc isn’t threatening enough for someone not to answer the door.”

Calum turns to the sofa where the family was found. “It’s picturesque, poetic even. You’ve got a whole family right here, at your will. They knock on the door. It’s dusk, sun’s just starting to set.”

“They have a ruse that gets them inside. We already know they have to blend in with the community. So what can you use to get into a house? Who gets into a house without a problem?”

Diaz goes into the kitchen where in the case file it mentions when the family was finally discovered food was still out on the table. “The window doesn’t have to last long. But it has to be just right. All three families were either eating dinner, or just done with dinner. So why dinner time?” Diaz turns from the stove to face Calum.

“It’s when everyone is together. They’re not just going after a family, but very specific family dynamics. Which means both parents need to present, two kids seems to be a minimum.”

“What’s the average dinner time you’d say? With this job, I eat whenever I fucking can. But before this, excluding people like us, when is the average person sitting down to eat?”

“6, 6:30 I’d guess. That’s assuming the average person is working a job that calls it at 5PM. A town like this is either on the verge of collapsing or being bought out. So I assume a lot of people are traveling outside to the city for work, so the commute might be even later. But I wouldn’t hazard any guesses that our unsub’s just haphazardly picking houses.”

“No, no, you’re right, Hood,” Diaz states, walking over to the table. “I guess what I’m saying is the timing. No one hears anything. But our unsub’s using a gun. That’s not quiet. And there’s not a lot of city noise this far out. They’re spending hours in the house and somehow getting out undetected. But striking at dinner time, with the setting sun, means this person’s around outside the house. But no one’s noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

“Hunting seasons,” Calum returns. “No one really flinches at the sound of a gun shot because people are hunting year ‘round here.”

“And it seems like humans are on the menu.”

“An appetizing thought.”

******

Ivy’s not sure when the chill finally left over the course of the day but it returns when she walks into the precinct and sees the entire room in a frenzy. Kennedy spies her and it’s just a look. Not much different than his resting face, but somehow she knows with that slight arch in his eyebrow. Another family--while they were proding over photos the killer was already moving on, already in the midst of their attack.

And it shouldn’t shock her. Well, to be more accurate, it doesn’t shock her and maybe that’s the thing that scares her. “I’ve been doing this too damned long,” she mutters to herself. “Hood, you’re with me. Get the address and let’s see what that gut of yours cooks up.”

“How’d--Is Kennedy going to be okay with that? The call just came in a few minutes ago.”

“Get the address and tell me how you like your coffee,” Ivy says. Kennedy’s going to come to the scene anyway, but she doesn’t tell Calum that.

There’s not another word before Calum passes in front of her. “Cream and two sugars,” he answers as he goes.

“So Black, got it.”

Paused at the desk of a detective, he looks over his shoulder. “Cream and two sugars,” he re-emphasizes with a tiny smile and holding up two fingers. Police station coffee’s never the best, but it’s better than nothing. When on a case, time is also imperative and they take what they can. Ivy fixes Calum’s cup first, slipping a lid on and keeping the stirrer through the hole. She pours her cup with no additions.

“Not even creamer? Not one?” Calum questions.

“Takes too much time,” she returns. “Burke, you staying?”

“Yeah, Russell got those files over just before the call came in. Besides that crime scene’s bound to be crowded as all hell and I swear if I walk into another house and catch a chill after seven years of doing this job, I just might quit.”

The two ladies laugh. Ivy recovering first to respond, “I need you to keep me sane even though you’re just as much trouble as Diaz.”

“Which is why I’m going to say here, work with Russell. We’re going to need Hood back before the 5’oclock news. Whatever you find at the scene will help solidify our profile and we need it soon. We need the hands on this clock, because it’s ticking ahead of us.”

Ivy nods. It’s no fun being behind. “Kennedy, we’re moving or we’re dying.”

“I trust you. There’s something off about that last one that I want to walk through again.”

“Let’s rock and roll,” she says to Calum, handing him his cup of coffee. “Mr. Cream-and-Two-Sugars.”

The drive is relatively short, all thanks to Ivy’s lead foot. But they need to get there fast, while things are still fresh.

“Did you always want to do this?” Calum asks in the silence of their drive. The radio doesn’t even play. Ivy knew he had questions. He wore them on his face, brows furrowing anytime he was the slightest bit hesitant about something.

“I don’t think I had a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice? We’ve all got choices.”

“My dad worked with the FBI until it killed him. And I think about how he used to tell me it was his job to help put bad people in jail. And I believed him.”

“The bug bit you before you even had a fighting chance.”

Ivy nods, taking a quick glance to Calum. “But if I had a prettier face, I’d stick with liaison too.”

Calum huffs out his laughter. “I went the journalism route first, sue me. Besides, that’s you admitting you think I have a pretty face.”

“I forget faces—so don’t think too highly of it. And I’m probably old enough to be your mother. You attended some lectures, I remembered your name. How’d you convert?”

It’s silent for a moment and Calum contemplates her statement, old enough to be his mother. “Given that my mother has shared her fountain of youth with my sister and I, you might be shocked to know I’m nearing 30. And I converted because of you and your work under Kennedy and his old superior Rogers.”

“All the greats,” Ivy teases, but she doesn't sound impressed. More like tired, used to it.

“But you’re different.”

“Yeah, because somehow the Bureau hasn’t realized their mistake.”

“Mistake?” Calum asks around his sip of coffee.

“Kennedy’s going to retire soon. He's done 15 with our unit. Another ten prior to that climbing through the ranks. Then they’re going to have to find a replacement.”

“You say that like it won’t be you.”

“Because it won’t.”

“You’ve been with Kennedy for so long. He’s obviously going to recommend you, Ivy.”

“He can recommend but people higher up get the final word.”

The truck stops just in front of the house, and Calum knows the most logical thing to do is just focus on the case, walk the scene. Do his job. But he reaches across the console and wraps his fingers around hers for a second with a squeeze. “You’ll get it. They’d be dumb not to bring you to the head of this team.”

“There’s an altar or a shrine. It’s small.”

Calum pauses with his hand on the door. Ivy continues beside him. “Go to the eldest child’s bedroom. In a corner you’ll see the small shrine. Our unsub left one at the last house. And the house before, I’d bet. And this house too. That’s what Kennedy missed. What other cops missed too. Make sure you get it photographed. Besides, I’ve been doing this job too long and don’t know if I’d even want the added responsibility if they promoted me.”

“How’d we miss that?”

“We didn’t miss shit. We saw it when we needed to see it. We see things when we need them.” It's the way she says it, like she has to believe that makes Calum believe too.

The sight rocks Calum--he knew it wouldn’t be easy. But he didn’t know it’d hit him like this. The room spins, just a little. And his heart racing. Mostly because he can’t stand the thought that this could be someone he knows. These people weren’t anticipating their would be like this. And what does that even mean for him? What does his end look like?

“Hey, whoa. Whoa.” An arm comes around his waist and he follows the lead of whomever’s grabbed him.

“I’m okay,” he breathes out. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, I’m a fudge brownie. It’s okay to not be alright in there.”

Calum rests against the side of the house and squats down just a little. His elbows hit his knees. His breath is heavy, falls from his open mouth almost like he’s going to vomit. But his stomach’s not churning anymore. Not with the fresh morning air hitting his lungs. “Fuck,” he breathes out again, eyes blurring just a little.

“But you’re okay. Take a breather.” Ivy’s shoes turn up in the dirt. "Get him a water, will ya? Hood, take a minute. It's alright. I'll be inside when you're ready." Calum just watches her go. It takes a moment for him to lift his head. It has to get easier. Or least he hopes it does. It takes him a minute, inhaling deeply before he stands up straight.

The rest of them processing the scene goes by in relative silence. Occasionally, Calum pipes in with an addition to their theory. Ivy hums in agreement. And it’s not until they step out and slip out of their gloves that Ivy says anything. “This is why I drink my coffee black.”

“I’m sorry. I really--I don’t know why this one got me.”

“It’s the kids. Kids are the worst.”

Calum looks up to the sky. There’s a few clouds, but not many. “The photos are bad, but in person is way different.”

Ivy watches Calum, the way it takes him a second to come back to earth it seems. “Don’t ask yourself if it gets easier.” When his gaze lands hers, she can see the furrowed brow again. The question drips off his face. “You’ll only disappoint yourself. And this job’s not for the weak of heart. For the people that can’t take some losses with the wins.”

“You said it yourself. You wanted to put the bad people away.”

“Eight year old me wants to believe it’s as easy as putting the monsters away. Thirty-one year old me knows for a fact what the losses are, who gets caught in the cross-fire. It’s not easy, not in the slightest.”

“Innocent lives do add up.”

“Which is why I try not to do math on the job. They all slip up. They all reach a point where their methods don’t satiate the need. They all make a fatal flaw and counting the unfortunate lives on the way to that will have you walking from the Bureau faster than you can blink.”

“So what makes you stay? If it’s all so fucking bad, what keeps you going?”

Ivy nods to the car, pulling the keys from her pocket. “We need to solidify our profile and you need to run press ASAP. But to answer your question, the thing that keeps me going is that fact that they do get caught eventually.”

******

Eventually seems to come up faster than Calum anticipates. He was sure it would take weeks. After getting back to the precinct more information in Russell’s digging found a connection between all the families, a Venn diagram that overlapped to their X on the map. Another couple of days and it all unravelled. It’s a blur, when he tries to think back to it, on the plane. The only grounding thing is when one of the children, a little girl about 6, pointed out the tattoos on his hands. In all this time, he was sure the tattoos would be a barrier to entry--they’d somehow put him in a place that others would think he was nothing but trouble. But somehow, despite the terror she had done through, that little girl liked his tattoos, found some sort of comfort in them.

When he told her they were for his parents, she smiled at him. She said she wanted one for her parents too and then asked if he had anymore and how old he was when he got them. All of which Calum was more than happy to answer while the medic checked over her. Her older brother came soon after, asking a few questions, but overall he was much quieter than his sister. Understandable for what was endured. In the end, Calum’s just glad he didn’t see them staged on a couch, bleeding out onto the cushions.

There’s a small bit of turbulence and the shakes cause Calum to open his eyes for a moment. Ivy’s seated across from him, whiteboard on her lap, headphones in her ears. A tic-tac-toe grid drawn across it in the middle, but in the corners are some swirls, a crude drawing of the shrine from the case. Calum leans forward and tugs on the board just a little. She lets it go without a fight and hands over the marker.

Calum makes an ‘X’ in the top left. “You said this job doesn’t get easier.” He looks up to see if Ivy can hear him and is relieved when she pops out one her headphones. She raises her brows like she wants him to continue with the thought. And Calum’s not even sure he should. Instead, he hands over the board back to her. If seeing death doesn’t get easier, then maybe it just means he gets better at it. Maybe it means that not being okay with death is a good motivator to keep down this path.

“The job doesn’t get easier. You’re still human. You still want a spouse and a kid. You might want two dogs and a cat. You might want that white picket fence one day. You’ll want to close your eyes and not see death. You’ll want to walk down the street and see humans as humans again. You’ll have nightmares. Don’t hide from it. Nothing’s wrong with you for wanting that. But we’re in a world now where we see the horrors--what’s on the other side of everything you wanted. It’s a liminal space and it’s heavy to wade through.”

“I just want to not freak like I did the other day. It’s not easy. But sometimes I fear that maybe I bit off more than I could chew.”

Their game of tic-tac-toe has been forgotten, placed in the seat next to Ivy as she leans forward in her seat. “You said you were converted because of me. What exactly about me was it?”

“You just know things. When you walk onto a scene, you have an air of knowing. How can you just pick up on it in a snap?”

“Well,” Ivy laughs, “if that’s the only reason you want in, I warn you to get out.”

“I want to help. I want to save people,” Calum adds on. But then it hits him. Maybe this wasn’t the business of saving people as much as it was stopping people. Sure, they prevent future murders, but that didn’t always negate for all the lives lost. But they did save that family today. He saved that little girl that wants tattoos like his. “I want to save people and I want to stop people as well,” he finally adds on.

“There will always be monsters in this world,” Ivy warns.

“And there will always be heroes.”

“Make no mistake, Calum. We don’t have capes. We don’t swoop in all the time at just the right moment. Sometimes we are late. Sometimes we’re reacting more than we are being proactive. Sometimes we fuck up.”

His heart stops for just a moment at the mention of his first name. He’s always Hood, or at least has always been Hood. Just like she’s always Thomas to the team. But she said his first name. Unmistakably so. “Did-did you just use my first name?”

“You used my first name, first.”

When had he done that? He didn’t recall, but he couldn’t combat it either.

“Look,” Ivy continues, “the fact remains. We will fail. We will make the wrong call, or the right call just by the skin of our teeth. We will walk down the wrong direction only to figure out, we know it’s the wrong one. We get it right. A lot more often, we get it right and we minimize the death count. But we’re human--you don’t have to take it on if you don’t want. You don’t have to suffer.”

“If I don’t suffer and win, then that little girl suffers and loses. Then the next person loses. And the next. Their suffering or mine--the choice is clear.”

Ivy studies Calum for a moment. She sees the resolve on his face. Just how much sacrificing himself is a no brainer for him. It was a no brainer for her too. But admittedly, she was cursed. Maybe Calum wasn’t. Maybe she could save him, even if she couldn’t save herself. But she wasn’t in the business of saving people, only stopping them.

“I can’t stop you, can I?” she asks.

“Stop me from what?”

“Stop you from killing yourself with this job.”

“If it’s killing you, then why don’t you leave?” His head cocks to the side, now intrigued by her honesty.

“It’s like you said, I got bit before I could escape. I’m cursed. Are you?”

The little girl flashes through his vision again, and his chest tightens for a second before the relief kicks in. He could chase that feeling, the knowledge that he saved someone, one person. And that he helped put away one more person causing harm. “I am now. Ruined--because even though I can’t save them all. I can save some. I can help keep some people safe. I don’t think there’s a better reward than that.”

With a nod, Ivy looks back to their game on the whiteboard. They would’ve tied, she can see it after where she placed her ‘O’. But she hands it back over to Calum. “Kennedy’s going to shit himself when he realizes he’s got too hard heads on his team.”

“You’ll shit yourself when you realize you’re inheriting the second hard-head on the team after Kennedy leaves.”

Ivy scoffs. Of course, Calum still believes in the shiny idea that hard work yields rewards. “And this is where I can still tell you’re new to this--the dreams are still shiny and ideal.”

“All the work you’ve invested, they’d be--”

Ivy interrupts him. “I know, they’d be dumb not to.”

“Then why do you keep saying it won’t happen?”

“I’d call my pessimism a curse. But at this point, I think it’s a personality trait and the truth.”

“And let me guess, this is why you take your coffee black too.”

Ivy winks at him before her smile takes over her face. “You know it.”

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years

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|UNWRAP ME|M|

CHEEKY SNEAK PEEK #2

Pairing : Jimin X Reader (Ft a lil Tae)

“There’s a bow on my panties because my ass is a present!”

About- Honestly, you were just trying to prep gift bags for your company’s holiday party! But Jimins stressed, and needs a little brain reset sooo….I guess we’re prepping gift bags later!

Or- The company has quite a few deadlines to hit before you guys close for the holiday! Jimin’s in charge of talent and everybody’s fucking up…but in your line of work it’s a domino affect! So if his crew falls behind ultimately everybody’s behind! Hints Jimin’s stress and frustration....

WC: Sneak peek (1k)

WARNINGS: (FULL THING): Teasing, light edging, dirty talk, top/bottom OC, top/power bottom Jimin, hand restraints, unprotected sex, over stimulation, fingering (F receiving), biting/marking kink, VERY light degration kink (he playfully calls her a “little bitch/slut” once) light come play, light spanking

FINAL NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

*Pierced Jimin/Red haired “Dope” Era Jimin meets 2020 Jimin!?

*Also it should go without being said but Jimin, IS Westernized, he’s from LA in this ffs!

*I’m a perfectionist and re-worked the entire smut scene which is why the post is late, I felt bad and decided to drop this cheeky little sneak peek!

______________________________________________________

“You can do this shit in your sleep, this was just a curveball you weren’t expecting so it knocked you off your square a little. There’s nothing wrong with that, it doesn’t make you any less capable of doing your job!” The words hushed off your lips as you started to leave little butterfly kisses up the side of his neck. Lacing your lips and teeth around the lobe just enough to tease. A sharp breath catches in his chest, as he reclines his neck to give you more room to work while his palm flexed against your ass. Welcoming the much needed distraction “We got this, you just need to step back, breathe...regroup and refocus.”

You watch his mouth open in protest and now it’s your turn to shut him up “So, we’re down two models shit sucks, but dwelling on it won’t suddenly make their test results change! So now what’s our next move? Business strategy 101 baby let’s go!“ There’s a blatant challenge within your delivery!

“But I -“

“Jimin. Park!” The grip you hold on the hair at the nape of his neck tightens until you hear him hiss! Eyes fighting to stay open, mouth parting reflectivity. ”Breath, regroup...and refocus...”

He sighs around a moan, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s annoyed. Realizing it’s a lost cause because he knows damn well this isn’t a game he can win. “Yes, ma’am” There’s a whole lotta crass laced within that but you’ll take it I guess!

“Thank you!” Responding with the same bitchy little attitude you received! It is the time of year for giving after all! Batting your lashes up in his direction, far too innocent for your attitude! Pressing a couple quick but firm kiss to those pouty lips of his!

“Right, well, in the office, we get various incentives as motivation right? Whether that be gift cards, free dinners, bonuses..” Jimin murmurs right into your mouth, though the topic seems casual his voice is lower, taunting and huskier than usual. “So what’s mine tonight Mrs. Kim Hmm? Breath fanning against your lips, almost able to taste the remnants of liquor and cinnamon on your tongue. “What do I get as an incentive to regroup and refocus?”

Ohhh so now he’s the one challenging you...and your always down to play ....

Reaching over to take a languid sip of your cocktail, finger's trickling down his thighs as you appraise him from over the brim of your glass.

“Well Mr. Park, I'm sure you're very much aware just by looking around the room that one of my main love languages is gifts! Whether that be giving or receiving…..’ Voice dropping down to a purr, and there’s a little smirk playing on your lips that’s speaking volumes, as you shift off his lap....standing between his thighs, placing your drink aside.

“Not to mention it is that time of year after all is it not?” Slowly, tugging the shirt over your head, spine sitting in an exaggerated arch as you do so! Showcasing a matching red bra that’s completely mesh! The faint shadows from your nipples poking through the fabric and Jimin’s breath hitches within his throat! “Time for giving, putting others first, being selfless...the full nine…”

“Yeah” He’s winded already....Tongue darting out to wet his lips, though his throats suddenly what’s feeling painfully dry!

Delicately roaming your hands up your frame. Starting at your waist, slowly venturing up to caress the swell of your breast, dipping over your shoulders. Trickling up the side of your neck, and ending with your fingers tangled within your hair.

“Fucking hell….baby…” He whispers low and thick, almost as if he really wasn’t speaking for you to hear, as if he was just simply enamored!

You hum approvingly, lips curling into a smirk, teasingly trickling your hands down your sides before turning around whipping your hair over your shoulder in the process, swaying towards the obnoxious 10ft tall Christmas tree placed right in front of your wall of windows and Jimin’s mouth runs dry!

“I don’t know if you’ve even noticed all the presents Santa's already left for us this year….I guess we must’ve been exceptionally nice or something!”Pointing to the various wrapped boxes cascaded along the ground and your delivery is far too innocent for the pure chaos your erupting within this room right now!

Jimin’s gaze instantly darkens and it’s straight primal, he wants to unravel you in every sense of the word! Shamelessly he allows himself continue drinking you in from head to toe and god fucking dammit Y/n! Your ass literally looks like it belongs under the tree, the way the lace and ruffles frame the swell of your cheeks, the cute little rhinestone sitting between the exaggerated bow resting right in the center! Let's also not forget the main selling factor again...there crochless..which also means assless.. So in conclusion there's all of like 3 tiny pieces of fabric covering or I guess I should say not covering your ass and It’s just….

Inhaling sharply, biting down on the swell of his lip, soothing a palm up his length which is already straight throbbing beneath his fingers! Idly stroking himself in an attempt to relieve a little tension, which is duly noted because you're already over here doing the most!

Not missing the way you wiggle your ass a little whilst while apparently finding the need to adjust a couple of ornaments. Because of course, that was necessary... “Did your parents ever let you open a gift of two early Jimin?” Peering over your shoulder in feigned curiosity, brow titled in his direction.

“No, which fuckin sucked because I’m really impatient” Jimin already sounds breathless and throaty with pure need, you keep fucking around and he’s going to tackle your ass.

Literally.

A low hum flutters through your chest as you gracefully slide to the floor, right next to said obnoxious tree. Landing on your knees, feet tucked beneath your ass which again looks like a whole ass present at the moment.

Bow and all you're literally sitting right where you belong!

“Come here…” Head lolling to the side, signaling him closer with the flick of a finger “Since you had such a shitty day I’ll let you pick one gift to open early, if I were you’d I’d pick that pick box to the left...I think that’s from yoon.”

Patience is a virtue...one that Jimin does not have.....

#Jimin #Jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #park jimin #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts poly #bts poly au #kpop #kpop smut #jimin au #park jimin au

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palbabor-writes · 4 years

Text

Look Upon the Light

(Chapter 8: Terrify)

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, general melancholy

Word Count: 7765

“I know who you are.”

Shigaraki lifts your console up, turning it this way and that, ignoring your declaration. “The facing got knocked off,” he states, his four fingered grasp lifting it up for you to see. His eyes catch yours, the crimson ensnaring you. “I don’t think it’s going to fit back on. Lucky you, you don’t really need it to operate the machine.”

His pinky comes down against the plastic, joining the rest of his finger pads. The plating is gone in an instant, dissolving into a fine dust and drifting to the mats beneath Shigaraki’s feet.

Moving to Japan has been an absolutely terrible life choice.

Notes: Not beta edited, so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Chapter 1: Encounter || Chapter 2: Observe || Chapter 3: Hello || Chapter 4: Intoxicate || Chapter 5: Taste || Chapter 6: Teeth || Chapter 7: Polaroid ||

Terrify ter·ri·fy /ˈterəˌfī/ verb cause to feel extreme fear.

In hindsight, you should have known. It was too quiet.

The moments that stretched between Tomura’s visits narrowed and shrank. You’d come to expect him whenever you walked into your living room, your bedroom, your kitchen. He stuck to your ribs, pulled at you, wordlessly asking you to stay close. You’d wake to his warmth, his touch, the reds and whites blurring together.

Despite these moments of tranquility, he was tense. Thrumming with an energy that made you shake.

It was dangerous.

But, you’d always known that, even if you pretended that the tiger at your door was as gentle as a kitten. Something was closing in. It felt like the calm before a storm, the air pulling back and pushing forward, misting over the pliant ground.

Neither of you acknowledged it.

Like the best ghost, it only made its presence known in the chill of pre-dawn. Slipping over your sleeping bodies and seeping into your skin, slowly tarnishing, rusting out.

You wake one morning to see Tomura leaning over you. He isn’t touching and is barely breathing, his exhales coming out in little puffs of air. His eyes rake over you like coals, smoldering as they set you aflame.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep. He doesn’t answer, just continues his silent introspection. There it is again, that creeping sensation that’s been nagging at you. You don’t question him further. Instead, you roll toward him, pressing your cold hands into his warmth.

Something unspoken has been drifting above the two of you for weeks. You knew that you could give it a voice. But, you were unsure if he could. You wanted to tell him about it, to make it solid by speaking it into existence, but you didn’t know how he would react to your declaration. And provoking an unknown reaction out of Tomura was never a wise move.

Did you even need it to be said when you’d already accepted it as fact? You loved him.

And, he loved you. You knew that, you’d never doubted that. His walls had come crumbling down with yours and Tomura was nothing if not passionate and possessive. He couldn’t help himself. He might disguise it as something else, tell himself that it was another thing he was entitled to, but you knew the truth. You clutched at it, keeping it safe, holding it to you so he could never tear it away. Even if he left, even if you never saw him again, you would keep that small piece of him.

You could feel that love when he came to you like this. He would soften, his voice and touches lingering, tender. He wouldn’t let you go. Insisting that you hold onto him, that you come to him. He was at his most desperate in these moments.

Running your hands along his bare legs you look back up at his face. He is leaning closer, practically bent in half as his hair trails against you.

“Come here,” you whisper, arms lifting to pull against his neck. He doesn’t resist and you tug him back to you, trying to leech some of his warmth. He lays his head against your breasts, his low breathing making you shiver. Your hands tangle in his white hair, cascading the tendrils against your palms.

His eyes finally drift closed as the sun peeks playfully against your curtains. You should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to leave him alone in the bed. Burrowing against his slackened form, you fall blissfully into sleep, content to let your whirling anxieties still.

******

It was the little things that tripped the two of you up.

He’d been careful, and you’d been protective of his presence, keeping your movements to a minimum. But, it had always been a matter of time. He wasn’t infallible and you, well, you couldn’t stop time.

At first, the extra patrols made you feel at ease, especially when you were returning to your apartment late. There was a new hero in the area and she seemed determined to make a name for herself. Although you had never run into her, the shops and local papers were chock full of her name. She had brought along two sidekicks, kids really, but between the three of them, the crime rates had steadily decreased.

Then, you remembered what Tomura had told you once, “Guess this prefecture isn’t important enough for any hero to deem it worth their while…I doubt anyone will notice a villain respawning in the vicinity.” Now, the patrols just made you jumpy and you couldn’t help but worry for him each time he stepped out your door.

Tomura became even more inscrutable as the days wore on. He was practically seething, a deep rage bubbling over him and tipping, spreading. It tainted his voice, his movements. However, he was careful to not take his brittle aggression out on you.

No, he was never rough with you, at least, unless you wanted him to be. But, that was a different sort of dynamism he would retreat into. And it was one that you welcomed. Often, it could pull him from the brink of his restlessness.

Even with the distractions, Tomura was still on edge. He’d always worn his emotions in his eyes and body language. You could map every inch of him now and that power never brought reassurance. You didn’t question his anger.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you just knew that it was a part of him. It sat against his heart, beating in tandem with the muscle. But, it wasn’t his budding aggression that set things in motion.

Instead, something more insidious crept in.

******

A knock at your door startles you, your pen dragging against the drafting paper, an unseemly line etched across the design. Shit. You look at your phone. Although Tomura didn’t text every time he came by, he usually kept his travels to and from your apartment to odd hours, like pre-dawn, or the dead of night. According to your device, it’s just after noon. No, something isn’t right…

The knocking comes again, louder, insistent.

You stand, gulping down your shaking nerves. It could be nothing, you tell yourself as you walk to the door, your feet padding against the wood, just calm down, (Y/N).

Two men stand outside your doorway. They are wearing professional, dark suits and they look like bad fucking news.

“Miss (L/N)?” the shorter one asks, removing his hat and bowing to you.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, your heart beating tightly against your chest.

“I’m Detective Ito and this is Detective Yamashita,” he gestures briefly to the taller man, who gives you a cursory bow. “Sorry to bother you during the work day, but we have a few questions for you. Do you mind if we come in?” his voice is liquid and you distrust it immediately.

“Right now? I’m in the middle of a project, is there any way I can get a card and possibly meet with you later?” You try to make yourself stand up straight, projecting a calming lull over your tone. Come on, (Y/N), you’re not bothered by this, if anything you’ve been preparing for this. Handle them and don’t let anything slip, you have nothing to hide. Except for the villain who haunts your bed. No, don’t think that. You’ve got this...

“I’m sorry Miss (L/N),” the taller gentlemen, Detective Yamashita, presses, stepping toward you. “It can’t. This concerns some delicate information and we need to make sure we can clear you. While you’re not being accused of anything,” he amends, catching sight of your narrowed eyes, “we do need to make sure we’re covering our bases.”

“And my rights as an American citizen?” you press, holding your ground. You have a feeling it will be a null point, but it’s worth a shot.

“I’m afraid your visa doesn’t grant you any special privileges. Now, I’ll ask you again, may we come in? Or, do we need to come back with something a little more…stringent?” He lets the final word hang, a warning. Detective Yamashita is clearly playing the role of bad cop in this little interrogation, that’s not an interrogation. Yeah, right.

You pause, biting your lip, thinking. If you push back, then you might find yourself in more hot water, besides, as far as you can tell, you aren’t under arrest. That means they don’t have anything concrete, for the time being.

You bow, “I apologize gentlemen, I don’t mean to be rude, I just don’t understand what two detectives could possibly want to question me about. Please, come in.”

They seem placated by this response and follow you into your living room. You offer them a seat on your couch and bring your work stool around to sit in front of them, hands folded in your lap. Here’s hoping the demure act will work in your favor…

“It’s no problem Miss (Y/N), I know you haven’t been in Japan long. I’m sure it’s unsettling to see us. Now, before we proceed, would you please show us your U.S. passport, work visa and residence card?”

You nod, keeping your face neutral as you gather your paperwork, holding them out to Detective Ito, who takes a small flashlight to them, scanning for any forgeries. Satisfied, he hands them back, a small smile on his lips. Still doing that good cop routine, you think irritatedly, tossing the papers on your media stand.

“We’ve heard that you’ve found a boyfriend while you’ve been here,” detective Yamashita pries, crossing his legs and leaning toward you. “Where is he?”

“Not sure I’d call him that, he’s more of an acquaintance. He lives in another city,” you lie. Keep things simple and to the point, don’t supply anything you don’t mean to.

“Which one?”

“Esuha City,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the detectives.

“Your landlady said he has very distinctive features,” Detective Yamashita pauses, writing something down. Then, his eyes lift, waiting. He’s not going to let you slip past this query.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your head tilting questioningly.

“She said he had white hair.”

You tap at your chin, pretending to think. “Oh, I believe he did. He dyes it a lot.”

“What color is it now?”

“Not sure, I haven’t seen him in a while.” Well, you think snidely, that one is partially true, it had been about a few days since you’d last seen Tomura.

“A co-worker of yours, Mr. Suzuki, also mentioned something interesting about your, er, friend,” Detective Ito pipes up, and you arch an eyebrow at him, not answering, holding back.

“He said that he acted strangely when he came by. Apparently, he was very aggressive. Mr. Suzuki said he felt threatened.”

It’s really shitty luck that interaction has come back to bite you. “Oh,” you feign remembrance, “well, my co-worker, Mr. Suzuki, had decided to walk into my apartment unannounced and without knocking. Naturally, I thought he might have been a burglar. I’m sure my landlady has told you that my unit has been burglarized before?”

“She did,” Detective Yamashita replies, his eyes finally drifting away from yours. “While this might be a long shot, we would like for you to look at some pictures.” He snaps open his briefcase and pulls a collection of images out, pressing them into your hands.

You can feel them both eyeing you carefully as you shift through the images. Some of them are Tomura, some are others, and most are blurry. You lift one curiously. It’s the image of a man standing on a train platform in a dark trench coat. Squinting, you try to see the station name. You can just make out the lettering, Musutafu Station. It’s the one that is close to UA. Taking another look over the others you see the same station tiles, your heart feels like it’s floating away.

Maybe they really are just checking leads, they do seem a bit bumbling, but that could also be an act. Something that makes you drop your guard, something that could put both you and Tomura in danger.

“No, I’m sorry. Although,” you tug out one of the pictures that is not Tomura, “this one looks a little familiar. I just can’t think where I’ve seen them before…”

“That’s the League of Villain’s leader,” Detective Ito provides, and Detective Yamashita glares at him, his eyes darkening.

“Oh! God, is that who you’re looking for?” you ask, eyes wide.

“We’ve been canvassing the area, asking questions of some of the locals. A girl in downtown Tokyo thought she saw him the other day, like I said, just covering our bases.” Detective Yamashita admits, taking the pictures from you.

“But, that doesn’t explain how I ended up in your investigation. Is it because my friend had white hair? I mean, not to be rude, but that feels, vague…”

“Since Shigaraki was seen near the train, we traced other CCTV cameras in the station. We noticed that someone similar to his description was seen exiting at this station, as well as several stops in Tokyo a few months ago. Your, uh, friend, as of now, fits a similar description. We’re just checking the area for anyone who has been in contact with persons similar to Shigaraki.”

“So, no recent sightings?” You opt to ignore that last bit of information, it would make more sense for you to be worried about the bigger picture.

“It’s terrifying to think that a villain might be lurking around. After the burglary, I really considered moving to another complex. I was hoping that that new hero would turn things around.” You duck your head, trying your best to look flustered and scared. They aren’t hard emotions to reach for, given the circumstances.

“He hasn’t been seen in a while, ma’m, please, don’t worry,” Detective Ito says encouragingly, earning him another glare from Detective Yamashita.

“I just, I don’t understand something, why talk with my co-worker?” you ask, your voice low.

They're hiding something. Suzuki could have reported his minor encounter with Tomura to the police, or maybe these men approached him. It was frustrating and frightening. It’s something so small, such a tiny slip in time. You’d honestly forgotten about Suzuki’s visit, so much had happened since then. But now, thanks to Suzuki’s report, there are detectives sitting in your living room. There’s no way you can plausibly deny Tomura’s presence in your apartment. Both Suzuki and the apartment manager had seen him.

“We have reason to believe that he might have-” Detective Ito is cut off by Detective Yamashita’s throat clearing, a rasping sound that reverberates in your small apartment. You gulp, pulling yourself from your musing, your hands fidgeting in your lap.

“Ito, please. I’m sorry ma’am, we aren’t able to give that information out at this time. At present, we have no further questions for you Miss (L/N), but, before we go, do you mind if we take a quick look around?”

“Um, of course,” you smile weakly. What else could you do? The more you resisted, the more suspicious you looked. Your stomach drops as they stand and you feel like you are going to be sick.

These detectives knew about Tomura, there’s no way they didn’t. They might be checking now, but they’ll be back. And the next time they might not…

No, you can’t think about that right now. Just go along with what they want and get them out of here. You can figure out a plan of action when they’re gone.

The detectives are already pacing around the rest of the living room when you finally stand from your seat. Thankfully, this part of their investigation should be easy.

The most Tomura ever kept at your place was the two pairs of sweatpants that you’d bought him and those you can easily explain away. You’d also kept your food purchases to a minimum. Lately, he hadn’t been eating much of anything, so you’d saved on the grocery bill. Thank God for that.

Overall, your apartment looks like it just housed you.

The two detectives putter around for a few minutes, opening drawers, examining shelves and closets. They even peek in your bedroom, but Detective Ito had practically closed the door on Detective Yamashita’s nose when he poked into the dark room. The smaller detective shook his head, aghast at the very thought of entering something so feminine and private. And odd reluctance, for a man who called himself a detective.

Concluding their search, they head back to your front door and you trudge after them, feeling numb.

“Well, Miss (L/N), thank you for your time,” Detective Yamashita bows, followed closely by his compatriot. “If you hear or see anything out of the ordinary, please, don’t hesitate to give us a call. We’d also like to hear from your…friend if he drops by again.”

“Of course,” you demure, bowing back, praying that this is about to end.

“Have a pleasant day, we’ll be in touch.” Detective Ito grins and the two men make their way to the next apartment floor, their feet heavy against the carpet. Once your door is shut you fall down into the floor of your genkan, your heart pounding and hands shaking. Oh God, you have to…Wait, should you text him? You’re not using his name on your phone, but what if they’re already tracing it? Can they do that?

You pull yourself to your feet, your legs wobbly, and drag yourself back to your drafting desk, snatching up your phone. Your fingers tremble as you type in your message. You don’t know if you should put it in some kinda vague, coded wording, or if you should just toss the damn phone out the window and resort to smoke signals. Damn it.

[You: 1:13 pm]

Hey, some men came over. They were asking questions.

Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like a vague text, you think, looking over the message and hitting send. No, it looks like it’s screaming that you’re harboring Tomura Shigaraki. You move to your floor, back braced against the wall, waiting. It might be hours before he texts back. But, you didn’t want him coming over and then finding himself immediately captured by the police.

You bury your face in your hands, a low groan wracking out of your lips. Worst case, he won’t answer at all and all you’d have left of him are memories, not even realizing that they were the last interactions that the two of you would share.

The sudden vibration of your phone snaps you out of your head, and your hands shake so badly they send the device skittering across your mats. You tumble after it, lifting the screen and breathing a sigh of relief. He answered.

[Tenko: 1:23 pm]

5-2 Kusunokicho 7-chome

It’s an address. You highlight the text, hit copy, and paste it into the mapping app on your phone. It looks like it’s a tea shop. You stand, legs still trembling, and grab your purse and jacket, heading for your door. You poke your head out, into the hallway, and gather your strength. If you are going to do this, you need to look natural. Besides, if they are following you, hopefully Tomura would know what to do.

You gulp as you lock your door behind you, a morbid thought jumping into your mind. Well, here’s hoping that knowing what to do didn’t mean killing anyone.

******

The tea shop is busy. It’s raining, so that might have contributed to the bustle inside the shop. You pull the hood of your jacket higher, trying to shield your face from the freezing droplets. Tomura hadn’t texted again and you didn’t feel like it would be a good idea to ping your location on your phone.

In fact, you think belatedly, you might as well switch it off. As you power the device down, you hear a low whistle from the alleyway across the narrow street.

You turn your head slowly, the rain pattering against your face. There is a figure loitering toward the back. It isn’t distinguishable as anything other than dark. Well, fingers crossed you aren’t about to be murdered.

Splashing across the street you duck down the alleyway, thankful you’d thrown on some heavy boots for this excursion. The figure is stationary and you pause a few feet back, waiting. He lowers his hood, red eyes still focused on the street behind you. You almost run to him. You have to tense your legs to resist the temptation, your nails digging into your palms.

“Were you followed?” he rasps, watchful, his eyes flashing at you, the street, and finally, back to you. You shake your head.

You’d taken a route similar to the one you’d transversed when you came to the clinic to drop off the diagram for that prosthetic. Each time you’d switched trains or busses you had discretely studied the faces around you, looking for any repeats, anyone who might be tracking you. You’d even drifted into a few other shops before reaching this street, often ducking out a back door and taking the alleys to the next street over.

You’d been careful, you just hoped it was enough.

“This way, stay alert,” Tomura murmurs, his hands still firmly in his pockets. He leads you down another street and into a smaller back alley. He’s doing his own weaving now, taking you over some of the pathways twice, his eyes always peering over his shoulder, observant and sharp. Finally, he pauses in front of a dilapidated door and shoves his way inside.

“Come on,” he calls back to you, holding the door open, allowing some space for you to slink past him. He follows, yanking the metal closed, sealing you both inside.

You shrink back against the darkness, your eyes struggling to adjust. You can hear Tomura moving toward you, his breathing a low scratch against the silence. He stops at your side, the warmth of his body close.

Neither of you move for a time. You’re both listening. The only sounds you can make out is the rain and your own heartbeat. You close your eyes, your head thumping against the door. “God,” you whisper, your voice thick with disuse.

The sound makes Tomura shift closer, his arms pulling you to him, away from the cold metal. He presses a quick kiss against your temple and tugs you further into the room.

It looks abjectly barren.

There’s an old mattress in one corner and a smattering of trash, mostly cans and takeout containers, strewn over the greasy floorboards. It looks like it’s operating as his bedroom and the thought makes your heart squeeze. It’s fucking disgusting. No wonder he used you as a place to crash in the beginning. No human should live like this.

He flops down to sit on the mattress and pulls you after him. The two of you perch on the uneven surface and you let out a long sigh, overwhelmed. Tomura senses this and doesn’t press you. He lets you catch your breath, welcoming your leaning touch. Once you’ve shaken off your jitters, you begin.

“They were detectives. They said they saw you at a Tokyo station, so they checked CCTV and traced you to the stop by my apartment.” Tomura is silent and you gather your breath to continue.

“They talked with the landlady and they talked with that idiot coworker of mine, you know, the one who tried to come in the apartment that one night. It was vague shit, I tried my best to ask more than I talked.

One detective kept trying to get the other to stop telling me details. He finally shut down the whole thing, saying they’d be in touch and for me to give them a call if I saw anything. I…I just hope this doesn’t fuck things up for you, for-for us…I don’t...goddamn it…” You bury your face in your arms, a sob stuttering from you.

Tomura is quiet, but he pulls you into his lap, arms wrapping around your quaking shoulders.

******

He isn’t sure what he wants.

It’s not a sensation he experiences often and he’s finding it hard to grapple with. If he’s thinking selfishly, he would keep you with him. He’d drag you to hell and back if he could. He doesn’t want to give you up and he isn’t even sure if he can. A deep welling of possessiveness had overtaken him. You were his, just as he was yours.

It was strange to admit that.

He wanted to break everything to pieces, to decay it into nothingness, but, over the last few months, he’d come to adjust those goals. Not just with you, no, the same leniency applied to this league of his. They should have what they wanted, too.

So, he let you cry against him.

He wants to know what giving is like. To tell you that he could give you something of his. After all, he’d stripped you down to nothingness, taking and taking until you had finally lain bare and open in front of him. You’d started the process naturally, giving coming as easily to you as breathing.

He knew he didn’t want you around the league.

You were too different, too removed from that sense of desperation and fanatical idealism. And you didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t like seeing you in a place like this, dilapidated and crushed, sobbing against his chest, your warm tears soaking into his skin.

No, you deserved to be comfortable. You weren’t a fighter. You would try if he asked, he knew you would. But it wasn’t you. Besides, what did you want?

He would have to let you go. He’d known it from the first moment he’d felt your lips running across his. Still, it had come too soon. Perhaps that could be his gift to you? Letting you settle back into normality.

******

“What should I do?” You ask him, lifting your head from his chest, eyes puffy and tired. His gaze is clouded, the red murky, unfocused.

“Whatever you want,” he says, his voice hollow.

“Tomura,” you admonish, “I...I just don’t want you falling into some trap. Not because of this stupid…I don’t even know what to call it. I thought we were careful...I-I don’t know. I’m just so fucking mad.”

He smiles at your outburst, his scar lilting up. “What do you want to do?” He presses his forehead against yours, exhaling heavily, waiting for your answer.

“Move,” you reply, tipping your fingers up to trace along his jaw.

“Then move, it should be easy for you to get back to the U.S.”

You sigh, pulling your head back. “No, I don’t want to do that. I just mean, move somewhere that’s safe for-”

“The league is regrouping soon. We’ve caught wind of some…information. It’s going to take us farther out of the city. I was going to tell you tonight. I don’t know how long it will be. Could be months…” He speaks slowly, his voice lulling, soothing you, even as you take in what he’s actually saying. I’m leaving, get out while you can.

There is a long silence following his announcement, and you lean against him, burying your face against the rough fabric of his trench coat. So, just go home? Go back to the states? There has to be something that you’re not thinking of…

Tomura tilts your face up, craving contact. He runs his rough lips over yours, carefully letting his hands tap over your neck.

His kiss is light. The fleeting caress makes you press against him, your fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. You moan when he tilts his head, sliding wetly across your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and you open, tangling with him. Tomura grunts at your eagerness and his nose bumps yours, his exhaled breath shaky, wanting.

You sigh. How were you supposed to just say ok? How could you be ok without having him like this? What if you wanted to try and remain at his side...could you ask that of him? What if…wait…wait…that’s it!

You pull back from him, gasping and he gives you a disgruntled look, a frown creasing his features. “Oh...that’s it! I know what to do!”

“Keep your voice down,” he reprimands, as you lean back to reach for your purse. You dig in the scattered contents and emerge with a small business card, a beaming smile across your face.

“Nico! He said to call him if I wanted to take him up on that job offer. He said I could draft for him. He’s at that clinic, and he said they work in a grey area, but they have some serious connections. It’s perfect. It lets me slip away, I’ve just got to be careful how I do it.”

Tomura snorts at your enthusiasm. “So, you just get a new job and all your troubles go away?”

“No, I tell my job I’m transferring back to the states and I pack up my apartment. It won’t be the cheapest thing I’ve ever done, but if I can pull it off, then it’s the perfect solution. I can find some place else to live, and slip into a new life, one where you can still come and go.”

He stares, his eyes wide in that childlike manner, the pupils blown. You smile and fling your arms around him, kissing along his neck. He grunts and presses you back, pinning your arms to your sides.

“Stop squirming,” he growls and you still obediently, not wanting to agitate him.

“Come on, don’t be like that, Tomura. It could work. At least let me try.” You plead, watching his face, trying to see if you could get a read on him.

“You actually are insane,” he sighs, rolling his eyes and turning his head to look away from your stare.

“No, I love you.”

It just tumbles out, but it’s too late to unring the bell. Besides, you stand by it.

He freezes underneath you, his head whipping back to yours. His eyes are sharp and his lips are lifted in a deep scowl. It’s an intense look he’s giving you, almost raw, dangerous. It makes your stomach flip, uncertainty pooling in your gut. You find yourself looking away and biting your lip, “I mean it, I-”

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else.

He’s pulling you against him with bruising force, his hands trembling as they press into your skin. He can’t even seem to focus enough to land his lips on yours. He tries again, then stops himself, his face lifting away, but he won’t let you go.

His arms are wrapped around you, his grip tightening and relaxing. He tries to look at you, but ends up ducking his head once your eyes catch his, burying his face in your neck, panting against your skin. He can’t stay still. No, he’s groaning, so brokenly against you that you’re worried he’s going to shake himself to bits.

You lift your arms, belatedly, to wrap around his neck. You try to hold him to you, desperate to seep a little reassurance, fuck, a little sanity into his trembling body. Tomura shakes his head at the confinement and shoves you down, against the mattress.

You squeak as your back hits the musty sheets, but he’s pinning you under him before you can protest.

“What did you say to me?” he finally snarls, his lips curled over his teeth. “No. I know you didn’t just fucking tell me that. How could you even- How? I’m a monst- I-I...” He can’t string his words together. His head dips to your neck, his lips rough against your skin. He can’t catch his breath and he won’t keep still.

You’re gasping under him, trying to hold him. But, it’s impossible to control him. You just shut your eyes against the emotions that he’s pulling from you and let him seethe above you.

“Look at me,” he growls, his voice hoarse and ragged. You try to wince your eyes open, but you’re too overwhelmed, you just can’t, you can’t look.

Why, you think distantly, why can’t you look?

You tell him you love him and now you can’t look at him? Are you afraid of what you’ll see? Afraid of the rejection that you know is coming? It doesn’t change anything, you tell yourself, even if he tells you to get out, it doesn’t change what’s happened between the two of you. No. If this is what you want, then tell him that. He has to...he has to hear it.

“Fucking look at me, (Y/N).”

“T-Tomura,” you try, a tear of frustration, of fear, slipping down your face. “Tomura, I mean it. I lov-”

“Stop it,” he moans, his breath hot against your cheek, his lips following the path of your tear, pressing the salty wetness away. He’s straddling your hips and his hands are curled, pressing into the bed.

“Don’t you fucking dare. You don’t mean it. You can’t-”

“Stop it, Tomura. Just, stop. You think I don’t mean it? How can you say that? After everything we, no, God, how can you fucking say that I don’t love you? When I’m right here, telling you that I do? You don’t get to dictate how I feel. What gives you the right to say that I don’t?” you ask, your voice an angry whisper. You can feel him shaking, his body wracked with his shivers and the realization gives you the courage to open your eyes. Your anger melts away at the sight that greets you.

He’s hunched over, his hair draped across his face and his eyes are clenched shut. He looks like he’s ready to fall apart. One of his hands lifts to scratch at his neck, dragging red lines down the scarred skin.

As if they have a mind all their own, your own hands lift, tugging free of his weight to cup around his face. He tries to yank his way out of your grasp but you just tighten your hold. He’s not getting away that easily.

“Tomura,” you call, keeping his face captive in your hands, forcing him back to you. “Tomura, I love you.”

He sags.

His whole body seems to shrink and his eyes finally meet your steely gaze. The red is bright, wild, gleaming in the darkness. You gulp and furrow your brow, a trembling exhale falling from your lips. You have to say it now. There’s no going back. The world is shattering, splintering to pieces above you, but he has to know. Before you lose him, he’s gotta at least know that one thing in this world that he hates so much, cares about him. Fuck, loves him.

“Sure,” you begin, still gripping your fingertips into the side of his head, slowly slipping up to tug at his hair. “I’m insane. I’ve fallen in love with someone who wants absolutely nothing to do with what I can offer.

It’s not going to work Tomura, I know it’s not. But, goddamn it, at least let me try. I know I don’t get to keep you, I don’t even know what you’re fucking planning to do. You could want to burn down the world for all I care. I just...I just want to hold on a little longer.”

He’s slack jawed and his eyes are wide and unfocused. He’s still panting but he’s not fighting against your hold anymore. Finally, he closes his eyes and lowers his head, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

“Say it again,” he requests, his voice muted, thick with longing.

“What? The whole thing?”

He lets out a wheezing laugh and you slowly start to breathe again.

“You know what I want,” he murmurs. You lift his head from you, tilting until you catch his eyes.

“I love you, Tomura.” A low shudder echoes up his spine and his eyes drift closed again.

“Fuck,” he rumbles, tugging his head from your hands. He doesn’t go far. Instead, he flops to his side and drags you over, draping you across him, his arms latching around you, keeping you in place.

You sigh, relieved, dipping your head against him, feeling for his heartbeat. You’re both quiet and the room stills around you. Your fingers are tracing lazy circles over his crossed arms, careful to avoid his clenched fists. He presses his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply.

“Stay,” he says above you, his breath stirring across the top of your head.

You smile against his chest and duck into his warmth. His grip on you tightens, lean muscles coiling, holding you to him. You can feel his lips as they run along the top of your head, tapping soft kisses into your hair.

Ok, so it’s not the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard, but you wouldn’t have wanted him any other way.

******

Your new apartment is nothing to sneeze at. Nico hadn’t been joking about that pay raise. He also was so much more than you were expecting. Not in a bad way, just in a, hey, I know some shit just went down, are you ok, kinda way. He didn’t pry, but he’d gone out of his way all the same.

The rest of the team at the clinic has also been absolutely stellar at helping you to get set up. Need something moved? On it! It’s like a big family and you can’t wipe the smile off your face most days.

As for your old job, they had been disappointed, but they understood why you wanted to get back to America. However, the American side of that job hadn't been so thrilled at your resignation, but you had received a glowing review from your old boss stateside. You liked to pull it up on your new laptop, reading over the words of encouragement and shaking your head at just how seriously you’d taken her advice.

Your Japanese work buddies were heartbroken, Hanabi most of all. But, you promised to keep in touch. You hadn’t quite figured out how you were going to do that, but that was a problem for another day.

All in all, things were going to plan. You had asked Nico for a little bit of extra help with the paperwork, explaining some of the details to him, and he had been quick to get you set up with a new passport, visa and residency card. It was like the old you was just a blip. You’d just need to keep your head down for a while, check the news, and see where all the extra precautions took you. It wouldn’t be easy, but what part of life was?

Tomura had stopped by after you finished setting up your new tv and console. Appropriately, he’d said he wanted to try it out and had then proceeded to ignore you while you set up the rest of the room. You didn’t mind.

The two of you were trying to make the most of the next couple of days. That lead he’d mentioned was somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. He’d reminded you of that fact, over and over, until you’d finally told him to shut up and let you enjoy the time that you did have with him.

“Hey,” you call, unboxing the last of your new dishes, “got you something.” He tilts his head toward you, eyes still glued to his game. Rolling your eyes at his inattention, you wander over, leaning over your new couch to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Pause it,” you demand, dropping a kiss against his temple. He grumbles, but you persist, nibbling on the shell of his ear when he tries to prolong his session.

“What?” He lifts his head up to look at you, his hair falling back against your arms.

“I want to give you something,” you reply, pressing your lips to his forehead before unwinding your arms and stepping around the couch. He eyes you suspiciously as you perch on your coffee table. You lift a key up, wagging it beside your face.

“It’s a key,” you taunt. He smirks and snatches it from you, pocketing it and tugging you forward.

His kiss is soft, so achingly soft that you melt into his arms immediately, flopping against his lean chest.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he grumbles, shifting you to a more comfortable position across his lap. Your legs straddle his hips and he holds you against him, his fingers warm against your hips.

“Can’t say I never got you anything,” you tease, leaning back and grinning down at him.

“Same,” he huffs, reaching into his pocket again and tossing a small phone at you. You fumble to catch it. He snorts at your scrambling and you pout.

“It’s not like you’re throwing it at a normal angle or anything.”

It’s small in your hands, almost obsolete in this modern age. You flip it open and already see a contact programmed in: Tenko Shimura.

“So you don’t bring any more cops around. It also can’t be traced.” His voice is hushed, almost embarrassed. It makes your heart flutter.

“Awe, a burner phone. I’ll cherish it always,” you jab and tilt his chin up, so you can keep kissing him.

******

A low vibrating wakes you. Blearily, you check your phone, only to be greeted with a normal screen, no missed messages or emails. Huh? The vibrating continues and you suddenly realize what it is. Flinging your feet out of bed, you rush to your charger, unhooking the old phone Tomura gave you.

[Tenko: 2:23 am]

Out of the city. Found a new friend.

There’s a picture underneath the words and you click the buttons until it lets you highlight and bring up the image.

It looks like he’s in a forest and you’re shocked he has a signal. But…what the hell is that?

There’s something nestled between all the greenery and it looks ominously like a man. If it’s real, it’s practically a giant, no, actually hulking would be a better word…

It’s practically a living, hulking mountain. Unsure if your sleepy brain is playing tricks on you, you exit the image, deciding that 2 am is not the time to unpack this particular phenomenon.

[You: 2:35 am]

Looks, uh, interesting? Be safe & Love you.

- Fin

Author’s Note:

Ugh, this was such a bittersweet chapter for me. I wrote this fic in its entirety back in the last few weeks of August. I had time before my classes started again and I leapt at the opportunity. In many ways, I identified more and more with the reader insert as I tried to pour out my ideas. I wanted to hold onto this tiny story that I’d outlined, to see if I could make something like this work after such a long break from writing on this scale.

So, out came Look Upon the Light.

It was like a fever dream. I couldn’t stop now that I’d started. After I reached the 8th, and final, chapter, I spent the next two months pouring over what I’d written, editing endlessly. I wanted to make things feel just right.

I went from this bombastic climax to something more subdued. Why not let it be an anticlimactic ending? Life often works that way and sometimes things just, well, end.

Tomura, in particular, has changed so much over the course of this journey.

There were days when I felt like he sounded terrible, nothing like the complex character that I loved so much. But, with my sister's wonderful edits and suggestions, main ideas & patience and countless read-reads of the manga, I got a handle on him and I am so proud of how he’s come out.

Canonically, I feel like this gap in the main story is the only time something like this romance could happen to him. Tomura is in a fragile place. For the first time in his life there’s no one looking over his shoulder and he’s become a character who is worlds away from where he started.

His goals are finally solidifying and he acknowledges that the members of his league deserve to have what they want too. Inside, no matter what has been stripped from him, he’s always been Tenko Shimura: that little boy who wanted to play with the outliers, to make sure that he was letting them feel included too. I indulgently like to think that if someone like the reader existed, their relationship might help him to come to terms with this part of himself.

Finally, this wouldn’t have been possible without you, dear readers. I have cherished each and every kudo, comment, subscription, like, and reblog. I was so scared to put this out. There are so, so many talented writers for this fandom and I was nervous. It had been so long since I’d written anything on this scale, would it sound ok? You all have been so supportive and welcoming and I love you so much. The response I received from posting this let me feel confident enough to explore some of my other favorite characters.

So, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I mean it when I say that you all are amazing and I wish each of you so much joy.

While this won’t be the last time I write for Tomura, there are other facets of his personality that I want to explore, I will wait a bit to do any updates to this story. I want things to catch up and settle within the manga itself before I toss the reader back into Tomura’s life. I do hope that they can come together again, as I have become their biggest fan.

In the meantime, The Gap in the Door will explore some of their other interactions. Some take place around the time of the chapter Polaroid, but some will look into other parts of the story. If you have a prompt, or want to see another glimpse into anything that happened, let me know. These two are so much fun to write and I enjoy head cannoning how they could fit together.

In short, thank you again for all you’ve done for me and take care of yourselves.

Tags: @inumorph, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @possum-person, @akutaguagua

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moony-meadow · 3 years

Text

The Very Hungry Beelzebub (5)

Previous Part

As Mammon carried me to the bathroom attached to my room with Beel following closely behind, I became distinctly aware of the fact that I had not yet been returned to my normal size. Typically, I would have been pitching a fit and insisting the demons grow me back immediately. But strangely, for the moment, I found myself not really minding.

Despite the fact that I had just been shrunken and eaten by a demon against my will, I actually felt weirdly safe in the hands of Mammon and Beelzebub. I didn’t know how to describe it, because usually when I was so small, I felt completely vulnerable and defenseless. However, for whatever reason, those feelings weren’t currently prominent. Of course, the instinctual fear was still there, but it was more like background noise than anything.

And so I would allow Mammon and Beel to keep me miniature sized for a little while longer. Having them tote me around and take care of me didn’t sound all that bad. After all, I hadn’t been properly fussed over since shortly after the brothers all found out I was a descendant of Lilith.

Unlike Asmodeus’s personal bathroom, mine was much smaller and a fair bit less opulent. There was a porcelain clawfoot tub against the back wall, a long counter which contained the sink was situated against the wall to the left of the entrance door, and sectioned off out of sight of the door was the toilet. The countertop was dotted with a few of my personal care items such as face wash, lotion, and a hair brush, but otherwise the room was well ordered thanks to the cleaning demons that occasionally popped in.

“First things first, we gotta get the smell of Beel off of ya,” Mammon stated once the three of us had entered the bathroom. “The only demon you should smell like is the Great Mammon.”

I wasn’t sure whether to scoff or to laugh. Mammon really was intent on the whole “me being his” thing. Admittedly, I found it a little bit charming in a weird way. However, the idea that I should smell like him was taking it in a weird direction. “I’d prefer to smell like myself, thank you,” I replied simply.

“You’re pretty bad at hiding your crush on Y/N,” Beel observed casually, instantly earning him a scowl from his older brother. I smacked a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from audibly chuckling.

“Oi, I do not have a crush on a crummy human!” Mammon insisted, all while clutching me close to his chest. “Y-you’re just makin’ stuff up, Beel.”

I slapped the back of my hand against Mammon’s torso. “Enough bickering,” I ordered, craning my neck to look up at his face.

Aside from a little bit of under the breath grumbling, Mammon did as I asked and he and Beel went about figuring out how to get me cleaned up. The next thing I knew, I was laying on my back on Mammon’s palm, my head hanging over the edge. I was positioned a few inches from the warm stream of water that was spilling from the golden sink faucet. Beel’s hands hovered nearby. One glance at the redhead’s face revealed how concentrated he was on being ready to spring to my aid should I need it.

“Just sit back and relax, we’ll get the spit outta your hair in no time,” Mammon declared cheerfully.

I gave a shrug and let my eyes slide shut. This whole situation was strange and unnecessary, considering Beel and Mammon could just grow me back and I could very easily take a shower, but I was willing to roll with it anyways. If I imagined it as a giant spa experience, it was actually pretty appealing.

A moment later, Mammon had inched his hand forward until my hair was caught in the gentle cascade of water. I immediately let out a relaxed sigh once the warmth made contact with the skin of my scalp. I stayed just like that for a couple minutes, until I felt two giant fingers touch my head. Initially, I tensed up. But when I peeked a look and saw Beel carefully rubbing shampoo into my hair, I returned to my former state of calm.

“Y’know, I could get used to this,” I remarked as Beel continued to gently massage my scalp.

Mammon’s hand jolted slightly under me. “Hey, don’t think this is a normal thing. The only reason a demon as noble and important as me is botherin’ to help clean a human up, is ‘cause my dumb brother went and ate ya,” He stated firmly.

“Don’t you think that’s the pot calling the kettle black?” Beel questioned in his usual calm tone.

I opened up one eye just in time to see Mammon shoot a sour look at his younger brother. Beel didn’t even seem to notice, his focus was entirely on the task of washing out my hair.

After about ten minutes, Mammon and Beel were apparently satisfied that my hair had been cleared of demon slobber. I had been set down on the counter and stood a few inches from the sink, rubbing a cloth the size of a comforter over my damp locks.

Mammon was sitting on his knees, his arms folded over the edge of the counter with his head resting on top of them. “I wish we could keep ya like this,” he said, a dreamy look in his eyes as he watched me.

Glowering up at the giant demon’s face, I shook my head in disapproval. “You just want to eat me again,” I accused.

Unphased by my accusation, Mammon gave a small shrug. He reached out with one of his ringed fingers and ran it along the length of my arm. “Well yeah, that’s a given. But like this, you’re also so cu--” the Avatar of Greed cut himself off, hastily retracting his finger as if I’d burned him.

“You were going to say Y/N is cute,” Beel helpfully supplied, earning him a mortified look from Mammon. “I’d have to agree,” he continued. A rush of heat instantly attacked my cheeks. I looked down at my feet in an attempt to prevent either brother from seeing my involuntary blush. “Although, they are at least a little bit safer at their normal size,” Beel reminded Mammon.

I definitely felt safer at my natural height, but then again, if every demon could just effortlessly shrink me, then I was realistically always potentially a small step away from danger... “Let’s not dwell on that little technicality right now,” I told myself. After the rollercoaster of emotions I’d gone through in just a couple hours, I felt I deserved a break from fretting.

“Speaking of which,” I started, dropping the washcloth. “As much as I enjoyed you two waiting on me, I think it’s about time you grow me back.” While my head felt nice and clean now, the rest of my body was still caked in dried saliva. I was in need of a proper shower; and of course my pajamas would need a thorough washing, that is, if I didn’t end up just throwing them out altogether.

Mammon turned his attention back to me, now sporting a pouty face. “Can’t I eat ya? You’re already small and all.”

I narrowed my eyes at the white-haired demon. “Do you really want to eat me when I’ve got Beel’s spit all over my body?” I questioned, arms folded over my chest.

A look of disgust immediately formed on Mammon’s face, eliciting a chuckle from Beel. “Uck, no. I’ll wait for another time,” he grumbled as he pulled away from the counter and got to his feet.

“No one is supposed to be eating Y/N,” Beelzebub scolded. “Lucifer would kill both of us if he found out we’d done it, even if they did make it out okay.”

While the Avatar of Pride had gotten a lot less...aggressive towards me over time, it was still impossible not to be intimidated by him. I knew my status as an exchange student protected me from Lucifer’s wrath for the most part, but I still worried about how he punished his brothers. Yes, they were powerful demons capable of withstanding much more than any human could, but that didn’t mean I liked seeing them get hurt.

Rather than dismissing Beel’s words as I had expected, Mammon gave his brother a hard look. “Ya better not breathe a word of this to him, I don’t care how guilty your conscience is,” he warned.

My eyebrows shot up. It was so strange seeing him act so stern. At first, I felt the urge to scold him for being so harsh with Beel, but then I realized the reason for the warning. If Beel let it slip to Lucifer what he’d done, his punishment would no doubt be severe. Mammon was actually looking out for his little brother, and that was something I found endlessly endearing.

Beel frowned but nodded in understanding nonetheless. When he glanced in my direction, I shot him a reassuring smile, which he was quick to reciprocate. I felt the sudden urge to hug both him and Mammon, but that was something I wouldn’t be able to do properly until I was back to my usual size.

“Okay, enough stalling. One of you two needs to grow me back now,” I proclaimed.

“Only the demon who shrinks ya can grow ya back, so it’s gotta be Beel,” Mammon said, sounding none too happy about that fact. I had no doubt he wanted to be the one to come to my rescue once again.

Beel’s hands began to move slowly towards me. “Do you mind if I pick you up so I can put you on the floor?” he asked kindly, his vibrant eyes watching me as he awaited my response.

Oh yeah. It probably wouldn’t be good if I was returned to my normal size while still on the bathroom counter, my head would probably end up colliding with the ceiling. I gave Beel my nod of approval and braced myself as his massive hands gently scooped me up and transferred me to the floor.

Once I was back on solid ground, I took a moment to look up and take in the view of two mind bogglingly huge demons towering on either side of me. Talk about intimidating. That was certainly a sight to make me all the more eager to get big again.

“Okay, ready and…” Beel’s words preceded the intense tingling sensation that signalled to me the resizing process had begun. In a matter of moments I was myself again. Of course both Beel and Mammon were still taller than me, but at least I could look them in the eyes without getting a crick in my neck.

I didn’t hesitate long before tugging both brothers into an awkward three person hug. Mammon gave an indignant yelp, and a glance upwards revealed that Beel’s face was tinged red. That only made my grin widen and my grip on the two demons tighten.

It was hard to believe I was embracing two people who had both eaten me.

#woohoo we made it to the final part #shall we vore #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t vore #soft vore

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unforth · 3 years

Text

May Trope Mayhem Fill Day 1: Friends to Lovers

Fandom: Tian Guan Ci Fu/Heaven Official’s Blessing

Ship: Xie Lian/Hua Cheng

Rating: Gen

Tags: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff, 520 day, florist Xie Lian

Word count: 2,492

Cross-posted to AO3

@duckprintspress

The bell over the door rang and Xie Lian turned from the bouquet he was arranging, forcing his expression into a tired smile as he prepared to greet yet another customer. 520 was an auspicious day for love, and a great day for Xie Lian’s shop, but it was exhausting. His smile widened and became more genuine, though, when he saw his customer: Hua Cheng, one of the few regulars that Xie Lian knew well enough to consider a friend.

Not that they’d ever met any place outside of “Buds to Blooms.”

Not that they’d ever spent much time together.

Not that they talked about anything other than flowers, at least not most of the time.

Not that they had really any relationship at all, no matter how much Xie Lian might want one.

Hua Cheng looked especially dapper for the holiday, tall, slim form clothed in black slacks, a red button up shirt, and a black suit jacket. Silver jewelry adorned his neck, an intricate filigree in the shape of butterfly nestled between the open buttons of the top of his shirt. His fingers were beringed, one looped with a red string that seemed oddly familiar, and sparkling chains were threaded through his long hair. Tiny chimes sounded every time he moved his head. As if his attire wasn’t enough to demonstrate that he had a date for the evening, his eye patch, usually plain, today was decorated with a red felt heart that Xie Lian suspected had been sewn on by hand.

He was gorgeous.

(read more!)

Something unpleasantly like jealousy curdled in Xie Lian’s stomach. If only he were the one that Hua Cheng got dressed up for...if only he were the one Hua Cheng wanted...if only--

“Xie Lian?” Hua Cheng asked.

Blinking, Xie Lian flushed. He’d been staring, a white rose stem still clutched in one hand, his trimmers in the other. With a shake of his head, he shoved the blossom into the arrangement he’d been working on, set the clippers down, and wiped his hands on his apron as he stepped out from behind the counter.

“Good evening, Hua Cheng,” he said brightly. Being jealous of the man, woman, or genderqueer individual privileged to spend the evening with Hua Cheng was absurd. “You’ve got perfect timing, I was just about to close up for the night.” Xie Lian was under no delusions of what his actual relationship with Hua Cheng was - customer and businessman, with a splash of friendship. “Indeed...I’d probably be closed already, except I wanted to get a head start on tomorrow.”

“I know,” said Hua Cheng with a toothy grin. “I got tired of waiting.” Confused, Xie Lian tilted his head to one side. Stopping in the middle of the open store floor, Hua Cheng turned a slow circle, eye searching the decimated shelves and coolers. “Wow, you musta been busy.” Xie Lian usually prided himself on the profusion and variety of flowers he kept in stock, but closing time on the busiest day of the year saw him nearly cleaned out.

“I’m exhausted,” Xie Lian confessed. With any normal customer, he’d never have admitted it - always have to be bright and perky and indefatigable for the clientele! - but Hua Cheng wasn’t a normal customer. “But 520 day alone pays my rent for most of the year, so it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is,” Hua Cheng murmured. “And I’m sure you need a break, so…” A decisive nod set of a cascade of beautiful music as Hua Cheng strode to one of the coolers and pulled it open. A few bedraggled bouquets and a single bucket full of stalks of cape jasmine were all that remained within. Every year, Xie Lian stocked up on the cape jasmine, tiny white blossoms nestled in profusion amidst evergreen leaves, and every year hardly anyone bought any. Xie Lian didn’t care. They were his favorite flower, and a small indulgence, and when no one bought them, he got to take them home and put them on his dining room table and imagine impossible things while he ate dinner for one on the most romantic night of the year.

Except apparently not this year, because Hua Cheng ignored the arrangements and grabbed the entire plastic vase of jasmine.

“How much for all of these?” Hua Cheng asked, hefting the container and letting the cooler door slide shut behind him.

Could he be any more perfect?

“Oh...uh…” Catching his lip between his teeth, Xie Lian looked at the flowers, looked at Hua Cheng, looked at the darkness outside his shop window, and sighed. “...just take them. You’re a loyal customer, and it’s not like I was going to sell them to anyone else tonight. They’ll be past selling by tomorrow, so…”

“No,” replied Hua Cheng firmly. Xie Lian frowned, confusion intensifying. “Name a price.”

“But--”

“Look. There’s this person. I’ve tried everything I can think of to let them know how I feel, and nothing has worked. And I have a suspicion or three about why they won’t listen, so tonight is the night. They’re worth it, and I need them to know they’re worth it, and so I’m paying, and then I’m taking these flowers to them, and then - unless I’m devastatingly wrong about their opinion of me - we’re spending the evening together, and I’m getting them dinner, and maybe giving them a foot massage. So. Tell me how much I owe you, Xie Lian.”

No, seriously - could he be any more perfect?

Yes, he could...if I was the person he was doing all those nice things for.

Xie Lian heaved a sigh. “250 yuan,” he said. Hua Cheng lifted a suspicious eyebrow. Yeah, Xie Lian might have low-balled that number a little...a lot… “...okay, more like 400.”

“Perfect,” Hua Cheng announced. Setting the container down at his feet, he reached into a pocket, withdrew a billfold, and deliberately counted out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 100 renminbi bills.

“Hua Ch--”

“Zip it,” Hua Cheng said, setting the money down on the counter just behind Xie Lian. Because Xie Lian was still just standing there. With his hands at his sides. Staring. And feeling sorry for himself. “I’m taking the container too.”

“That still doesn’t cost--”

Oh, but he was so tired.

“This person is worth it.”

Xie Lian struggled to keep his exhale from leaving as a forlorn sigh; it whispered from him, leaving his shoulders slumped, his mind fogged, and his chest hollow. “Alright. Have a nice night, Hua Cheng.”

“I will.” There was an inexplicable intensity to Hua Cheng’s voice, but Xie Lian didn’t want to try to understand. What he already knew hurt enough, and he knew he was being absurd. Dwelling on it would only intensify his sadness. Hua Cheng lifted the bucket of jasmine again, hugged it close with apparent indifference to the damage it might do to his expensive suit, and walked to the door. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” said Xie Lian, his voice empty, his heart empty, his store empty, his life...he shook his head and followed Hua Cheng to the door. Given Hua Cheng’s burdens, Xie Lian hustled and stepped before him, opening the door so he could leave without even more difficulty. “Thanks as always for your business.”

“My business…” Hua Cheng echoed. “Is that what this is?”

Xie Lian had no idea what Hua Cheng meant.

Xie Lian refused to think about what Hua Cheng meant, as Hua Cheng stepped out of the store, and Xie Lian closed and locked the door behind him, and Xie Lian turned and stared at his barren shelves, cast in deep shadow in the low evening light.

Tomorrow, he’d be up bright and early to receive his shipments, make the day’s deliveries, run the business, do all the work of owning a florist shop himself.

Tomorrow, he’d be collected, and calm, and professional.

Today…

A single teardrop made a wet, cool line down his cheek.

...today, he was being ridiculous.

Shaking off his melancholy, Xie Lian set about shutting down. There were cases to refill, vases to wash, coolers to clean. There was work to do, so much work to do, and he lost himself in the rhythm of it, in the simple joy it brought him. Minutes passed, the evening stretching later. Outside, he could hear as celebrators walked by. There was so much joy and jollity in their voices, and brought him a sense of pride to reflect and think - he helped make the day better for many people. His flowers brought happiness to dozens, hundreds, of people.

It was enough.

His flowers brought happiness to Hua Cheng.

It was almost enough.

It was--

A knock-knock-knock startled Xie Lian as he carefully swept bits of leaf and petal into his palm after wiping the cooler interior. Tumbling to his bottom, scattering flower bits over his lap, he sat there blinking. It was probably just some doomed boyfriend or husband realizing they’d forgotten to buy their love a gift. It was probably...but he glanced toward the exterior door, and there was no one there.

Knock, knock, knock.

Uncertain, Xie Lian rose and walked toward the back of the store. The knocking grew louder the closer he drew to the receiving door, and finally, baffled, Xie Lian went to it and peered through the peekhole.

Hua Cheng stood outside, smile suave, arms embracing the container of cape jasmine branches.

Xie Lian hesitantly unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Apologies, was there something wrong with…?”

“Oh, never,” replied Hua Cheng brightly. “I just got tired of waiting. Again.”

“I don’t…um...?”

“I told you, I have someone very important I want to see tonight, and they deserve to know how much I value them.”

Hearing it again stung. Did Hua Cheng really have to rub in how special this person was to him? What did any of it have to do with Xie Lian? Why was Hua Cheng here, instead of with them? None of it made any sense, and Xie Lian didn’t want to think about it, except how could he not think, and wonder, and mourn, with Hua Cheng standing in front of him once more?

“I’m sorry...I don’t…”

Hua Cheng rolled his eye. “Unfortunately, he’s not always the most observant individual, but I forgive him for that. To tell you the truth,” Hua Cheng whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I’d forgive him anything.”

Wait.

Was Hua Cheng implying…

Don’t think about it.

“Huh?” asked Xie Lian.

...but it almost sounds like...

With a hearty, gorgeous laugh that set flower bucket water sloshing to the ground, Hua Cheng threw his head back. “They’re for you, Xie Lian,” he managed between gales. “They’re your favorite, right?”

Oh.

Oh...oh, wow.

No...it couldn’t be.

“Huh?!”

Setting the container of flowers down beside the door, Hua Cheng withdrew one stalk, length heavily bowed with tiny white blossoms, and held it out for Xie Lian to take. Too tired, too bemused, too drunk on nascent hope to decline, Xie Lian took it.

“I couldn’t exactly ask you out while you were on the clock,” Hua Cheng explained. “For a long time, I thought I’d been so clear about my interest, and that surely you’d pick up on it and, if you were interested, respond in kind. But even though you flirted back, you never, ever did, and I started to wonder...I was pretty depressed about it for a while there…”

“...you stopped coming for a few months…” murmured Xie Lian.

“Yup, exactly - then. But I couldn’t stay away, and when I returned you were so happy to see me, and I couldn’t believe I’d misread your mutual interest so completely. And then it occurred to me...what if it wasn’t your interest I’d misread, but...you?”

“Me?”

“You’re so quiet.” Hua Cheng’s voice was fond, his expression gentle, and he reached out with a hand to cup Xie Lian’s chin. “You’re so kind.” The red string tied around Hua Cheng’s finger brushed Xie Lian’s cheek. “You’re so self-effacing.” The feel of it was familiar, and Xie Lian finally recognized it - it was one of his strings, from the store, the ones he used to tie bouquets. “You would never presume that I’d be more interested in you than in the flowers you sold.” Hua Cheng was wearing it like jewelry. “Not that I don’t love flowers - I do, truly.” That was so… “Almost as much as I love you.”

...so…

...wait, what?

“Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian breathed, heart in his throat, tears in his eyes.

“Will you go out with me tonight, A-Lian?” asked Hua Cheng, deep and rich and gloriously sincere.

Xie Lian opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, closed it, blinked away tears, and then smiled. “I guess it depends,” he said with a grin.

It was gratifying to see Hua Cheng look a fraction as confused as Xie Lian had felt most of the evening. “On what?”

“...did you mean what you said earlier?”

“Every word.”

“Even the part about the foot massage?”

“Especially the part about the foot massage!” said Hua Cheng. “When was the last time you sat down?”

“I don’t even remember,” Xie Lian admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

“I know, A-Lian.” Sliding a hand down Xie Lian’s neck, along his shoulder, and down his arm, Hua Cheng took Xie Lian’s hand in his own, clasped both their fingers around the jasmine stem, raised it to his lips, and gave it a gentle kiss. Jasmine petals rained down between them like spring rain. “So I hope you’ll forgive me for making it even longer.”

“Oh, Hua Cheng…” Joy bursting through his heart, Xie Lian allowed Hua Cheng to gently tug him out the back and pull the door closed behind them. “...A-Cheng…” The soothing scent of jasmine flowers filled the alley. “I’d forgive you anything.”

“Anything, anything?”

“Anything, anything,” Xie Lian confirmed. “Though--”

“Knew there’d be a catch.”

“--I’d appreciate if I could go home and change before dinner?”

“...that’s fair. Should I wait for you here?” asked Hua Cheng with a gesture to the narrow, dirty alley.

“Why don’t you walk me back?” Xie Lian suggested.

“Not nervous about inviting a strange man back to your place?” Hua Cheng teased.

“I think only a strange man would want to come back to my place…”

“As I suspected - you sell yourself far too short.”

“Then aren’t I lucky to have you to tell me your worth?”

I do have you, right? You really think…

“You are,” Hua Cheng replied, unhesitating and firm. “And I will.”

...you really do.

“Wow.”

I was right.

“You’re worth everything to me, A-Lian.”

He really is so perfect...

“And you, to me.”

...we’re really perfect.

And, hand-in-hand, in a cloud of cape jasmine blossoms and a choir of chimes, they walked toward Xie Lian’s apartment.

Together.

#may trope mayhem #unforth writes #tgcf #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #tgcf fanfiction #what me know how to tag things #never

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