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angelamajiki · 3 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Fatgum x Female! Sidekick! Reader

CW: noncon, voyeurism, bell bulge, size kink, praise kink, breeding, cunninglingus, bondage, dumbification

AN: This is a piece for Fern’s 1k Event! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ! Read the intro and first piece before reading this one! Ty <3 P.S. the italicized quotes are Nighteye’s and reader prior convo

Gluttony: The Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno

“What I like about gluttony,' a bishop I knew used to say, 'is that it doesn't hurt anyone else.'”

You hadn’t the faith to believe him when he said it.

It was hard to call the exchanges that occurred between the two of you a conversation. More or less, he spoke the truth of your reality and you simply didn’t have the gall to question it.

The elevator he thrust you into was cold and unnerving despite the cheesy jazz music that thankfully filled the void of silence you were sure would have deafened you if it prolonged itself. It gave you time to think on his words, more so than you would have liked to.

“The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind. It is a poison that is all-consuming of the senses.”

Gluttony was the next trial, so it seemed. Lord knows what lies ahead for you, leaving you foolishly clutching to the notion that this circle couldn’t possibly be worse than the last.

The abrupt halt to the elevator allows the gravity of the situation to sink in fully. The inescapable horror was creeping in through the crack in the door, especially when it opened to find a man waiting for you.

And what a man he was, standing at nearly eight feet.

“Just the gal I was lookin’ for! I was worried my favorite lil sidekick had run off right after quitin’ time.”

An enormous, gloved hand clapped down on your shoulder, lingering far longer than you would have liked.

“Follow me to my office, yeah? I got something I wanna discuss with ya.”

And just like that, the string of fate slipped around your neck like a noose and pulled you along down the empty hallway, save for you, the man, and the numerous amounts of plaques, awards, and other celebratory memorabilia decorating the agency halls.

Judging by the pictures you saw yourself in, you were a hero of sorts, working alongside the unnamed man and two others you had yet to meet. Hopefully, your paths would never cross.

Even inside his office, you could see the remnants of what your life would be in this circle of hell. Whoever was with you seemed to be very fond of you, given the number of photographs and newspaper clippings adorning his desk and walls of the office.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and not just your fantastic work as a hero. Been thinking about what a fine woman you’ve grown to be.”

Those large hands found your shoulders again, stroking and rubbing to set you at ease in his grasp.

“Strong.”

One dipped down to your waist.

“Sweet.”

The other onto your arm.

“Everything a man like me needs. You sure fill my appetite in more than one way.”

Finally, the rest on your hips, thumbing circles into the soft flesh he took purchase in there.

Ah, so this was the glutton in question.

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean.”

Just play dumb, maybe this circle will have mercy on you.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, honey. There’s no reason to get all shy on me; I promise I don’t bite-”

His hand slid up to your neck, resting comfortably while enveloping the entirety of it with just his palm.

“Unless you ask for it.”

The whisper in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you frozen in his grasp. It was undeniable that you would never beat him, no matter what your power may be in this world. Hell, if you even had one, how certain were you that you could use it?

Your options were far and few between, but laying down and taking it like some pathetic little bitch was not going to be an option for you. Not here, not now.

The shrill sound of your own voice even hurt your own ears as you cried for help, thrashing wildly in the grip of the man.

Your cries for help should have been chosen more carefully, seeing as when your two apparent saviors sped into the room, they opted to help the man pin you down even further.

“Damn, she’s being a feisty little thing-”

“Fatgum, let go of her neck! You’re gonna hurt her.”

“S-Should we really be doing this?”

And so you were left bound against the top of the desk, shrouded in a swarth of tentacles pinning your legs open and your hands above your head.

“Thank you, boys. Didn’t realize she would cause such a stir.”

So Fatgum was his name, or so it appeared to be an alias of some sorts.

“Fatgum, please-”

His smile was sickeningly sweet as he towered over you.

“Awe, no need for formalities with me, sugar plum. Just call me Tai, yeah?”

The two other men stood beside you, watching their boss closely as he dealt with you.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.”

Damn that cursed man for sending you down here in that goddamn elevator. This journey alone made it nearly impossible to keep this strength to see your mother again alive.

“Tai, please. I don’t-” His hearty laugh cut you off. “Begging already, sugar? By the fight you put up, I’d almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t!” You protested, squirming in your slimy bonds before they tightened uncomfortably around you.

“Don’t yell at him like that. It's unbecoming of you.”

The raven-haired man snapped at you, looking down with a blush seared across his face and up to his ears.

“Relax, Tamaki. She just needs a reminder of who she belongs, ain’t that right? But, he’s right, I can't have you mouthing off like that, now can I?”

Slipping his black mask off his eyes, Tai fastened it around your mouth and head, loosely gagging you.

“Yeah, you belong to us!”

It was the redhead’s turn to pipe up before Tai shushed the pair of men.

“Now, now, I know you’re fond of our sweet little sidekick here, but this?”

He clapped a hand over still clothed pussy, rubbing gently.

“This here is mine; you boys can’t have this. But you’re more than welcome to stay and watch as I indulge myself.”

You whined into the gag, looking at him with teary eyes as he ripped a hole in your bottoms and panties.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, honeybun. You're safe with me, okay? I’m gonna take such good care of my little sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing.”

His large fingers stroked over your clit slowly and tenderly, kissing your salty tears away as he shushed you with praise and loving words. Thumbing your clit, he pushed his middle fingers into you at a slow pace, grinning softly when you bit back a moan.

“Come on now, girl. We wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel, ain’t that right, boys?”

Their collective groans of pleasure gave you all the response you needed; those sick fucks were getting off on you being harassed by your boss.

His finger sped up in pace, making you squeal once he curled his finger in an upwards motion. “Can’t wait to hear what you’ll sound like on my cock, sweet girl. Gonna sing us a nice song?”

Another finger slipped in as his free hand pawed at your tits, fondling and groping as he finger fucked you a new sense of vigor.

“As much as I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart, I’m just itching to get inside you and feel that pretty cunt around me. You understand, don’t you? I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

His lips continued to litter your skin in kisses to your face, licking at the tears that fell from your eyes when he added a third finger into your tight, wet hole.

“Mhm, you won’t mind if I have a taste, do ya?”

You could only whine in response.

“Of course you don’t, my good girl never says no to me.”

A hot mouth sealed itself around your clit as three fingers pumped in and out of you steadily, hitting all the right spots repeatedly. You squealed and shook in your binds, feeling your orgasm approaching hard and fast with the aid of his tongue lapping and suckling at you.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

That was all you needed to feel yourself reach that blinding peak, sobbing and writhing as he rode out your ecstasy. His tongue continued to work at you far after you were finished, overestimating you without a care in the world. Your whines of protest fell on deaf ears as he just pulled your body closer to his face.

“Taste so good, sweetheart. I’ll stop when I’m finished with my meal, y’understand? This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Leaving you twitching and sobbing, Tai finally pulled away and stood up, pulling his cock out and stroking it above you.

“Can’t wait to breed my pussy. Gonna make you my cute little cream puff.”

Both of his massive hands circled around you waist, pulling you flush against him as he sank all the way into your tight heat. The stretch of his girth was quite nearly unbearable as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you, rubbing the small bulge in your belly with fondness while peering down at you.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I knew you’d be so good for me. Yer takin’ me so well.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slowly pulled out, leaving your legs twitching wildly when his thumb found its way back to your clit before he sank back in all the way. You could snark about how courteous it was of him to allow you to adjust, but the thread of consciousness was hard to grasp onto as he completely dominated your mind with numbing pleasure.

“You were made to take my cock, sweet thing. Let me give you a treat for bein’ so obedient for me.”

His praise went straight to your gut, as much as you hated to admit it, leaving you feeling pliable and soft under his demanding touch. Those hands around your waist pulled at your body, bringing you back and forth on his cock like you were a goddamn fleshlight.

“Ah, ” he grunted. “I don't think I can hold back much longer; you’ll let me be selfish, won’t ya?”

With that, all sense of tenderness and gentleness was thrown out the window as he picked you up from the desk, holding you against his chest as he jackhammered into you with an impossible pace of his hips.

“Shit! Squeezing me so tight, bein’ such a good little fucktoy for me.”

The sounds of skin slapping and the collective sounds of pleasure rang heavy in the room as he used and abused your throbbing pussy, feeling his grip on you tighten when he was reaching his own high.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, gonna stuff my pussy nice and full!”

The bulge on your stomach grew even more as he came, stuffing you to the hilt with his cum and his cock. Ropes of it leaked out of your hole, even as he stayed inside you, panting and kissing at your sweaty forehead.

“Gave ‘em a good show, didn’t we, sweetheart? Say thank you, boys.”

Their thanks were mumbled out as they too had exhausted themselves just from the display of your pleasure. Tamaki’s tentacles retracted themselves from you, allowing you to stretch and return feeling to your arms and legs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart. We’re - hey, are you with me? I’m gonna clean you up and take you back home with me, okay? No more hero nonsense for you, ya hear me? All you need to do from now on is stay home and keep that pussy warm for me.”

Like hell you were going to stay for another damned second in this realm, not after being violated so horrifically.

“O-Okay.”

Play it cool, play it cool.

“Let me go to the bathroom, then.” You swallowed, hoping to fool the men. “A-And I’ll get my change of clothes and we can go home.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hobbling out of the office before making a break down the hall for the elevator. Their shouts echoed off the hallway walls as you ran with all your strength left back into the safety of the elevator, leaving them running after you before the door shut on them.

“Gluttony is a great fault; but we do not necessarily dislike a glutton. We only dislike the glutton when he becomes a gourmet-that is, we only dislike him when he not only wants the best for himself, but knows what is best for other people.”

— tagging: @sightoru @anarchicmartyr @natsuonii @whumperooni @viixens @lunar-nebula @trafalgar-temptress

#yandere fatgum x reader #yandere fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

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dienamights · 3 years

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Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s): Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.”

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to-

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?”

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now.

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her.

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week.

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No! He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.”

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario.

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,”

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-”

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.”

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight.

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it.

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?”

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high.

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly.

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you.

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed.

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

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if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

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todoscript · 3 years

Photo

SEQUEL TO “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #bnha fic

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wkemeup · 4 years

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Sunrise (2)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, hella nervous!bucky, dangerously sweet!y/n 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“What the hell do you mean ‘you’re not going’?”

Bucky shrugged, taking a bite of the bagel Steve picked up on his way to the apartment. He flinched as Steve flung open the curtains, expelling a cloud of dust as the sunlight invaded the living room, illuminating over months of untouched mail on the coffee table and crumbs in the carpet.

Sam kept his eyes burning on Bucky from the other end of the table. “You can’t back out now, Barnes. She’s expecting you!”

“What’s this about again?” Steve asked as he slid into the chair beside Bucky.

“Book club. Y/n. Barnes is being a coward again,” Sam explained a little too nonchalantly for Bucky's taste.

“I’m not being a coward,” Bucky grumbled, avoiding Sam’s eyes and very much proving his friend’s point. “I’ve just— I’ve got better things to do.”

He regretted it the moment it left his lips because both Sam and Steve exchanged a less than subtle, irritatingly familiar glance.

“Yeah, like what?” Steve scoffed. He extended his arms out to gesture to the empty apartment. “You got tons of plans this week? Think you might see sunlight again or did someone hang garlic in the hallway?”

“Shut up,” Bucky warned, rolling his eyes. It had been a few days since he’d ventured out to the VA for the first time and it was more than he’d done in weeks. It should have been enough for these two, but it never was. They always wanted more out of him. They couldn’t just leave him to rot in his apartment, could they?

“It’s Sunday, you know,” Sam said, devilish smirk rising on his face.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

“Come on, man!” Sam groaned, slamming his hand on the table enough to cause a ripple in the coffee mugs. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You can’t tell me seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go...”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed red. They burned hot on his skin and it only seemed to make it worse. He’d never been like this before he was discharged – flustered and easily embarrassed. He supposed before he came home with one less limb and baggage the size of his living room, he didn’t have much to be embarrassed about. He was a flirt, a bit shameless about it, too. He’d had girlfriends and hookups and never thought much about it.

But now? The vague idea of even presuming to be interested in a woman was borderline laughable. What chance could he possibly have? He was washed up and broken, missing a few pieces, and half off his rocker. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d go for a guy like him. It was easier to just pretend like he didn’t care, give into the empty void he believed his heart to be, and waste away.

“Seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go,” Bucky said flatly, much to Sam’s annoyance. It was a bold-faced lie, one all three of them were well aware of, but it didn’t mean Bucky needed to give them the satisfaction of admitting it.

He thought of you in that sunset red sweater, holding a book tight to your chest with that sort of bright starlight look in your eyes as you listened intently to a retired vet go on and on about his personal connection to some corny book. He’d only met you for maybe a span of a few minutes, and still, he could somehow still picture your smile. He wanted to see it again.

But there was a sharp pain in his left arm; it burned, enough for Bucky to reach across his chest and try to put pressure on it, only to slip through thin air and land against his ribs. The pain remained, like an extension of himself, on an arm that was no longer apart of him. There and not there all at once. He groaned.

“It’s not a good enough reason, Sam,” Bucky repeated. “I’m not going. She probably won’t even notice.”

Another lie.

Sam shook his head, the smile quickly leaving his face in favor of one Bucky knew all too well. Disappointment. Frustration. The thing was, it didn’t hurt as much when Bucky was purposeful in creating it.

“I thought you liked her?” Steve asked cautiously, eyes catching Sam’s for only a moment before he turned back to Bucky. They’d been talking about him. He hated when they did that.

“I don’t even know her, Steve,” Bucky shot back. He shouldn’t be getting angry with them. They were only trying to help. And yet here he was – pushing away the only two people left in his life that still managed to tolerate him. He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw, trying to push past it. “She’s nice, okay? She’s pretty. Is that what you want me to say?”

Steve sat back in his chair, exhausted. “I want you to be happy, Buck.”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, well, shoulda thought of that before I got myself blown up.”

“Bucky--”

“Let it go, man,” Sam sighed, setting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Bucky felt like he could sink straight into his chair. Why did he always do this?

“I hope you change your mind,” Sam said simply, gathering up his things as he and Steve started to make their way to the door. “It could be good for you.”

Bucky knew what he meant by that, the underlaying message hidden just beneath the surface: she could be good for you.

Right on cue, the pain started up again in his arm that was both there and not there, and Bucky tried to grit his teeth through it, though Sam could spot the tells almost immediately: his right-hand gripping to the arm rest, the flinch in his jaw, the short tense breaths.

Sam sighed, pausing in the door frame. “We’ll be back in a few days. Try to clean up the place, will you? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Ma said she’d bake you cobbler if you promise to eat it,” Steve offered, too hopeful for his own good. It had been Bucky’s favorite once; the sort of dessert he talked about on desert nights when the mess hall served day old meatloaf and bland potatoes. He didn’t have much of an appetite these days.

Bucky forced out a smile for his friend’s sake and nodded.

A familiar silence swept over the apartment as the door closed behind them. It had been a comfort once; a darkness that swept around his shoulders like a blanket. It kept him isolated and suffocated and still, safe.

Now, it mocked him.

He stared at the knob on the door, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. He’d done this about a dozen times before, trying to convince himself to do something more with his days than waste away in an expensive one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

Steve was right. What the hell else was he going to do today? Stare at the wall for a few hours? Pretend to watch TV and not catch a single word of dialogue? Make a meal he wouldn’t eat?

He thought of you again. How you might scan the room in search of him and a frown might pull at the corner of your lips to not find him amongst the crowd. He wondered if you’d be dressed in yellow or orange or if you’d resemble a cloudless sky as the sun touched over the peaks of the city in soft pinks and purples.

He wanted to know so badly it was killing him.

“Fuck.”

He dragged his feet to the bedroom to find something half decent to wear.

***

It had been a less than ideal start to your day.

The children’s reading presentation at the library got a little out of hand when the speaker – a local theater student – got caught up in the voices and scared half of the toddlers to tears as he took some interesting liberties with The Cat in the Hat.

Then, a rather unpleasant woman yelled at you for twenty minutes about a man sleeping on the bench outside the near the entrance as if it were a personal affront that this man, a little down on his luck, dared to catch a few minutes of sleep in a public place.

The internet was shotty all day, leaving a few college students red in the face and with fat tears matching those of the toddlers in the next room over when hours' worth of work had suddenly disappeared in front of their eyes.

And of course – the teenagers. A band of four boys who hid under the brim of baseball caps with skateboards tucked under their arms, who found it rather amusing to stalk out the adult section and flip through the sorts of novels with bare chested men on the cover until their snickering could be heard from the floor below.

It warranted a coffee, at least.

The only solace was that it was Sunday. Your favorite day of the week. It meant a few hours at the VA and catching up with the guys. You hadn’t seen Natasha in a while and you were hoping to see how her new job at the security firm had gone. She was exceptionally qualified and you were almost certain you had her interview answers memorized by the time you’d finished practicing together.

But there was something different about this Sunday, something that left a few butterflies in your stomach where an easy contentment usually belonged. You were nervous, but there was an excitement, too.

There’d be a new face in attendance.

A beautiful face.

A face that you imagined required a double take were you to see it for the first time on a busy street.

“You’re smiling again there, darling.”

You looked up to find Mrs. Jefferson keeping a careful eye on you from over the top of her reading glasses. She wore a smile upon her face, one that blended into the laugh lines by her eyes. Her hand trembled with a familiar quiver as she reached up and slid the glasses off her nose. They rested comfortably on a purple beaded chain as they hung around her neck.

“You always have so much going on inside that head of yours,” she quipped, chuckling to herself. She was a slow mover as she turned to the computer to begin typing in her code. “Have you checked out the books for the VA yet?”

“Already done,” you confirmed, your mind still a little in the clouds. Coffee would definitely need to be a requirement before you stepped foot in the VA.

“Get a move on then,” Mrs. Jefferson said, gesturing to the door with a trembling hand. “I know you like to get donuts for the kids.”

You still had a few minutes left on shift, but Mrs. Jefferson was always so understanding. She had a son who was in the military once who saw about four tours. Always had a habit of going back, she’d said, like he was testing his luck. You weren’t sure how he’d died, but you knew he didn’t have the chance to go back for a fifth.

She was a part of a group no one wanted to be in: those who have lost someone to war. Membership cost was steep and there was no going back once it was paid. It was a lonely group, one far too many people occupied. Your own membership card was heavy in your pocket.

You glanced toward the door. The sun was shining bright on the pavement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

She smiled. “Yes, of course, dear. Tell the boys I said hello.”

“Yes, ma’am!” you called as you gathered your things and the shoulder bag stuffed with books and quickly scurried out the door before another disaster could reel you back inside.

The sun was warm on your skin and you took a minute to savor it before shoulders started to bump into you, forcing you off balance. You could see your breath in the autumn air, and still, the sun touched your cheeks and left behind a comfort there. Smile on your face, heavy bag draped over your shoulder, you resided to grab coffee and donuts at a café close to the VA before book club started.

It was one you visited a few times before, right across the street from a painfully busy Starbucks. The quaint coffee shop was often empty inside, save for a few college students with headphones in, typing away at their laptops, and a regular you often saw nursing a black coffee by the front windows, watching the people as they walked by.

It smelled of coffee beans as you stepped inside. Fresh. Aromatic. You took in a deep breath.

“Ah, Y/n!” a voice called from the back in a thick Colombian accent. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Luciana,” you laughed as the woman who owned the shop rounded the corner behind the counter and ran out to give you a hug. She was a tiny woman, short and shout, but her hugs could render even a giant of a man to a puddle.

“Donuts for your friends down at the VA again?” she asked, releasing you from her embrace, though she still managed to pinch your cheek on the way out.

“Yes, please!”

“And coffee for yourself?”

She knew you too well.

“I could use a bit of a pick-me-up,” you admitted. She knew your order by heart.

“You should see if that Sam wants to have some good coffee for a change at his next event instead of the bean water he serves our veterans now,” Luciana inquired as she pulled on a pair of gloves and began to stack your box with assorted donuts. She had that smile on her face you recognized well. She asked about Sam a lot.

“I’ll be sure to get his thoughts,” you replied, trying to stifled a smile.

“Have him come by,” she offered rather smoothly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen his pretty face and I could use a little pick-me-up myself.”

She winked at you and set the box of donuts on the counter. Then, your coffee; lid pressed on top, cardboard around the edges to protect from heat. You reached for your wallet but she snuck her hand over the counter and grabbed your wrist.

“No, no, not today, my dear. My treat.”

You parted your lips to protest but she shook her again.

“Tell those kids to come visit me every once in a while, okay? I’ve got a discount for ‘em,” she offered, bright smile over painted red lips. She waved you off and you knew there was no arguing with her.

“That’s very kind of you, Luciana. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“So will my business, dear.” There was that wink again.

You laughed, heading for the door. “I’ll see you next week!”

The bell rang on your way out.

The VA wasn’t more than a few blocks from Luciana’s, but the bag piled high with books was starting to weigh on your shoulder. It didn’t help that you had to weave expertly between the pedestrians to balance your coffee and the donut box, too; tourists walking about 10 mph too slow and locals stuck in their path with no qualms of shoving you out of their way if you managed to jump in their trajectory.

As you approached the VA, the crowd began to disperse. There weren’t too many people who frequented this street as there was little more than the VA building itself to occupy the tourists. You were surprised to find a man standing in front of the doors, staring up at the building as if it offended him in some way.

Dark brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, just barely peeking out at the nape of his neck. Right hand tucked deep into his pocket, rigid in his stance as he stared down the double doors. He was talking to himself, you realized, judging by the soft clouds of chilled air by his mouth.

James Barnes.

Bucky.

A smile suddenly took over your face, enough that you had to bite down on the edge of your lip in an effort to suppress it. You’d hoped he would come, but Sam had talked about his friend Bucky long before you met him in the empty library of the VA a few days prior. He didn’t say ‘yes’ to much of anything and he seemed to be the sort of soldier that got left behind by the system when he returned home.

But he was sweet. You could tell that just from the small interaction you’d had. Quiet. A little flustered. Maybe reserved. But he had beautiful eyes; blue, like they could capture even the faintest colors in the sky and the sweep of a current in the Mediterranean. He’d only barely lifted the corner of his lips to a smile that day and it left you wondering how lovely he was when it touched his eyes.

“Bucky!” you called, moving a little quicker now as you approached, but he didn’t seem to hear you. Still focused on his staring match with the building, it seemed. For a moment, it seemed as though he might be turning to leave and your stomach twisted.

You were nearly at his side, a little out of breath when you called his name again and it registered this time. Only, it must have startled him because an arm jutted out in your direction, knocking the coffee from your hands. You were too stunned to do much of anything about it as they coffee flung itself to the pavement, the contents spilling to the ground and over your sneakers. You clutched the box of donuts tight to your chest.

Bucky froze, almost as still as a statue, his eyes focused on the coffee spilled on the sidewalk. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch and slowly, his eyes drew up to meet yours. He stared at you for a moment, mouth falling agape. His ears were burning red.

Then, he seemed to come back to reality as he blinked a few times, his eyes darting from the shock on your face to the coffee on the sidewalk.

“Y/n! Shit—fuck! I am—so sorry,” he started to ramble, his hand reaching out, though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “I didn’t realize you were-- fuck—”

“It’s alright, Bucky,” you tried to ease him, a laugh in your voice. “Don’t worry about it. Probably didn’t need the caffeine anyway.”

“I should, um,” he looked around desperately, scanning the street for the nearest coffee shop, his hand clenching and releasing at his side in a repetitive squeeze. It was really sort of sweet. “Let me buy you a new one.”

You smiled at him and he softened a bit. “That’s really not necessary.”

He gritted his teeth as you bent down to pick up the empty cup and shook the excess coffee off your shoes. They were old sneakers anyway and you were looking for a halfway decent excuse to get new ones. Then came a shy ex-soldier barreling in from the sky with a strong aversion to your coffee.

“I knew this was a bad idea...”

He was talking to himself, grumbling under his breath, and you realized why he was staring at the building for so long. You took a step closer to him, studying the way his chewed on the inside of his cheek and shoved his right hand into his pocket.

“Is it?” you asked.

Blue eyes flickered to yours, brows furrowed. He didn’t think you’d heard him. “Sorry?”

You just smiled at him, shaking your head. You’d been working at the VA long enough to recognize the man behind the soldier; one who’d been beaten and bruised and left to waste the second he was dropped back on American soil. Constantly beating himself up, constantly wondering if he was doing the wrong thing and struggling to be the version of himself he was before the war.

“So, James Barnes,” you grinned, “you decide if you’re coming in or not? It’s a little chilly out here. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Bucky stared back at you, unsure. But you could see the tension easing off his shoulders. His right hand was hanging back at his side again as his eyes flickered up to the doors again.

“Come on.” You smiled at him again and you noticed pretty quickly that he softened when you did that. It made your stomach flutter. You took a step forward, hoping he’d follow behind. “There’s shitty coffee inside we can share before book club starts.”

“I don’t even know what you’re reading,” he admitted, that sweet nervousness taking over again.

“You don’t need to,” you shrugged and his brow scrunched up again, confused. You glanced back at the doors. “Well, I’m going inside. I hope I see you there.”

With that, you turned and shouldered your way through the doors, donut box clutched tight to your chest. You waited by the entrance until you heard the soft grumble of a graveled voice outside, and then, footsteps as they approached the door.

You smiled.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes

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lovclyboncs · 3 years

Text

Everything I Wanted (Todoroki x Reader) Soulmate Au

inspired by Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish.

TW! Mentions of contemplated suicide and insecure thought that could be triggering.

soulmate Au! Where your soulmate tattoo appears on your wrist after you touch your soulmate for the first time.

F!reader x Todoroki

F!reader x Bakugou (brotp)

Plot: the reader is Todoroki’s soulmate, but he doesn’t want to let some mystical ink on his wrist dictate who he should love, so he rejects reader as his soulmate. This story is about how reader first reacted to the rejection and how slowly reader lets herself heal, but what the universe wants it will get.

Part two out now!

This is my very first post on here! I hope you guys enjoy!

I had a dream I got everything I wanted Not what you’d think And if I’m bein’ honest It might’ve been a nightmare To anyone who might care

Every night you’d wake up drenched in sweat, panting as you tried to calm your breathing, tears staining your rosy cheeks. Every night you had the same nightmare, you wished it was just your mind overthinking, but sadly it wasn’t. Even in your dreams you’d replay that memory in your head over and over again.

“ I’m sorry (y/l/n), but even if your name is tattooed on my wrist and even if fate says we are meant to be together, I can’t return your feelings. My heart belongs to another. I’m truly sorry if I’m not what you expected as a soulmate.” He told you with nothing but sincerity in his voice. The sad and hurtful truth.

“I-It’s okay. I understand Todoroki-san. Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine” You said holding in the need to cry, and the need to let the crawling feeling in your throat free, to scream and yell how once again this world was nothing but cruel.

He gave a slight nod of his head before walking away from you. His other half as written by the universe and written on your left wrist.

You looked down at the floor clenching your fists and look up once again to see him standing with the rest of the A-1 class who was chatting as they waited for class to resume. A lone tear raced down your face.

“I’ll be fine” You whispered to yourself.

‘I have to be’ you thought.

As a young girl all you ever did was fantasize about your soulmate. You thought it would be a dream come true for you when you would finally get to meet them. You would get your happily ever after like in those princess tales you’d love to read before going to bed. You thought you’d have the perfect white picket fence life to look forward to.

As a young foolish girl you thought life would be easy.

you didn’t know your parents were going to sacrifice their lives to save others.

you didn't know that you weren’t quirkless and that your parents had been using ‘vitamins’ to suppress your quirk because of how dangerous it was when your emotions went haywire.

you didn't know that it wouldn’t get better contrary to what your therapist would tell you.

you didn’t know that you weren’t going to make as many friends as you had hoped you would.

and what hurt the most was that you didn’t know your soulmate wasn’t going to be your knight in shining armor like you had hoped.

Thought I could fly (fly) So I stepped off the Golden, mm Nobody cried (cried, cried, cried, cried) Nobody even noticed I saw them standing right there Kinda thought they might care (might care, might care)

It had been a month since Todoroki rejected you as his soulmate. You thought you could've gotten over it but as always it seemed like the universe wanted to punish you for just existing. You didn’t participate in class anymore, You made sure to cover your soulmate tattoo so that no one would accidentally look at it, you didn’t tare your gaze from the floor, you thought that it wouldn't hurt as much if you didn't have to look at him, but then the rumors started spreading and then the rumors weren't so much of a rumor.

“ Todoroki and Momo made it official!”

“ I knew they were soulmates, I mean just look at how perfect they look together.”

“ Did you see the picture Momo posted of their soulmate tattoos? I'm so jealous!”

It was all too much for you, so you ran and you ran until you found yourself on the rooftop of U.A. and you let the tears you were holding in fall.

You let the monster crawling at your throat free, letting yourself scream, letting yourself voice the hurt you had been bottling up.

why weren't you good enough for anyone?

not good enough for your parents to live for, they would rather die for others than to live for you.

not good enough for your classmates, they barley talked to you or invited you to places like they did with each other.

not good enough for your soulmate to want you. hell he’d rather cover you up than let people know fate had chosen you for him, were you so disgusting that you weren't even worth mentioning as the soulmate he rejected?

“stop” you whispered to your thoughts.

“ please just stop” your voice sounded hoarse.

“I just wanted everything to stop. To end” you said louder to no one, because no one was there, because no one cared.

you slowly walked towards the edge of the roof and looked down at the ground.

your eyes were void of anything, they looked empty.

shakily you put one foot out into the nothingness, into the only thing that could stop you from letting the pain overwhelm you. you closed your eyes ready to fly.

‘This world is so cruel and yet so beautiful’ you thought before letting your eyes snap open and gasping.

your eyes regained a light and tears began to swell once again, you let yourself fall backwards away from the edge of the building.

Yes the world was cruel and life wasn't fair, but it was also beautiful. there was still so much you wanted to experience, still so much that would be worthwhile.

after sitting on the floor for what felt like hours, you heard the distance sound of the bell signaling the end of lunch. you slowly picked yourself of the ground and cleaned your tears with the sleeve of your uniform jacket.

you made your way back to class 1-A. you were the last one to walk in, and some of your classmates glanced up at you, but they didn’t say anything about your puffy red eyes, they didn’t ask why you weren’t at lunch, they didn’t ask how your day was going so far, they didn’t ask if you were okay.

because you were not okay.

you once again felt a heaviness in your chest.

you thought they would care at least a bit, they were heroes in training after all, yet it seemed like they hadn’t even noticed.

they hadn’t even noticed your absence and maybe they didn’t mind it in the slightest.

I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me

Maybe you were too wrapped up in your own mind or maybe you finally lost it, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out how you ended up like this. Eating spicy noodles quietly with your class’ very own lord explosion murder sitting across from you.

If you were to ask Bakugou why he demanded you have lunch with him, he’d say it was because your dumbass face was the only one he could stand enough to willingly share his homemade noodles with, and if you were to ask him why he was sharing noodles in the first place, he would tell you to shut the hell up and just eat without questioning him.

What Bakugou would never admit is that when he was roaming the school grounds during lunch two weeks ago he saw you standing at the very edge. He stood frozen in place, not sure of what he could do, but before he could will himself to move he saw how you feel backwards and out of his sight. He knew why he froze because he remembered a comment he made to deku before they entered U.A. He obviously didn’t mean it, but seeing you so willingly to just dive of a building made something in him feel guilt for making such an insensitive comment even if it was to deku.

He really didn’t know you well. He knew that he had never actually seen your quirk in action though probably more than half of the class could relate to that since you never really used it. He knew pretty much that he didn’t know you at all and that unsettled him. Sure he wasn’t the most sociable guy or easiest to approach, but he at least knew a couple of things about each of his classmates friends.

So he decided to pay more attention to you, he noticed how you really didn’t talk to any of your classmates and how they wouldn’t try to include you in their conversations. He noticed you always walked with your head down not really looking at where you were going. He noticed the bags under your eyes making themselves more prominent. He noticed how sometimes when you would space out in class you’d be staring at the back of the class where the half and half bastard would sit. He became aware of your being but he still didn’t know how to approach you.

The opportunity came after an awkward encounter.

Everyone (or so you thought) had gone out to who knows where and like always you hadn’t been invited. You decided to train for a little while. You had been slowly progressing with being able to control your quirk, but after your conversation with Todoroki you were back at square one. Your emotions were a train wreck making it hard to control your quirk. Becoming frustrated with yourself you decided to call it a day but since you were sweaty you went to take a shower first. You forgot to take your clothes with you, and since you were by yourself in the dorms you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal if you ran to your room. Midway there you bumped into a wall that wasn’t there this morning. You looked up and there was Bakugou looking down at you.

‘Oh shit I’m going to die’ you thought but then you saw Bakugou frown as he looked directly at your uncovered wrist.

‘Shouto Todoroki’ Bakugou narrowed his eyes. He finally understood why you had been acting more closed off than usual, and maybe if you had looked a little harder you wouldve seen the understanding in them.

“Sor-” you began to say but he cut you off

“get dressed and meet me in the kitchen” he said before walking away.

After that day things changed for you. Who knew eating noodles in silence with an angry blonde could set you on your path to healing?

Every time you saw them holding hands you didn't have enough time to let yourself question what you could have done for that to be you.

“hey dumbass hurry up or I’ll kill you” the red eye blonde would yell at you once he noticed you lagging behind. Making you forget about the black ink on your wrist and making you worry about how bakugou was going to react to you getting a C- on the test he spent a whole afternoon helping you study for.

And you say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you Don’t wanna lie here, but you can learn to If I could change the way that you see yourself You wouldn’t wonder why you’re here, they don’t deserve you”

It was close to the end of the school year and if you were to say that much hadn’t changed you’d be lying.

thanks to practing your quirk with bakugou and him suggesting meditation to help you stay calm you were finally able to control your quirk enough to use it without fear around others.

Through him you also became friends with the rest of the bakusquad and they helped you warm up to the others.

all the second guessing and the comparing yourself to others didn’t cross your mind often anymore.

unbeknownst to you every time you peeled off the layers of insecuirty that held you back from expressing yourself bakugou would smile glad that you,just like him, could get passed the pain left by an unrequited soulmate bond.

also unbeknownst to you, as you began getting along with the rest of the class and opening up, he couldn’t help but be captivated by some of your quirks. How you would help the likes of denki study even when you weren’t better off yourself, how you were the only one who entertained Midoriya’s rambling and even added comentary.

He began to get to know you and he could see how the universe could’ve blessed him with a soulmate such as yourself. you were the complete opposite of what he was used to, the todoroki home wasn’t exactly the most affectionate.

He was seeing you bloom right before his eyes and all he could feel was guilt as he diverted his eyes to look at his left wrist.

‘Momo Yaoyorozu’

He softly caressed his thumb over the name and even with his soft touch the fake dark ink smuged.

He thought he had what he wanted.

He thought the universe had been wrong.

He thought it was for the best.

but as he saw you bickering with bakugou he found himself wondering what he could’ve done for that to be him, for you to be open with him like that.

he knew he was wrong but he was too far in to fix it.

If I knew it all then would I do it again? Would I do it again?

lastly Todoroki knew that even if you found it in yourself to forgive him, he still wouldn’t deserve you.

Thank you so much for reading this far if you did! I don’t know why I couldn’t get this out of my head and so here it is. Also I threw in an AOT reference to cope with the pain.

#mha x reader #todoroki shōto #todoroki x reader #todoroki angst #mha angst #anime angst #bakugou x reader #brotp #fanfic #oneshot #angst oneshot #billie eilish #songfic #soulmate #themes: unrequited #unreciprocated love #healing #fanart #strwbrrybratff

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kxisuke · 3 years

Text

letting go

pairings: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: forgetting the past is never easy. but a certain white haired man and an empty ramen cup just might be the answer.

warnings: !slight manga spoilers! angst to fluff

word count: 1k

“SATORU, I SWEAR ON MY LIFE I WILL END YOU!” The all too familiar sound of you yelling at Gojo echoes through the school. Fushiguro and Itadori rush to where you are in the kitchen, to see you standing there looking like a madman, an empty ramen cup in your hand.

“What did he do this time?” Fushiguro crosses his arms, leaning against the counter.

“Why on earth must he be such a child.” You fume, rustling through the cupboards. Turning to the boys, you show them the cup.

“This is the last one that we have in the ENTIRE SCHOOL and he heard me talking about eating it yesterday when I was with Kugisaki, he even made a comment about how it was the last one, and NOW HE ATE IT.” You can feel the rage flowing through you, and the cup turns to ashes in your hand due to your cursed technique, and it settles in a pile on the ground.

“How do you know it was him?” Itadori asks, cocking his head. You hand him the slip of paper you had found in the cup and he opens it. Itadori tries hard to hold in his laughter, and he hands the note to Fushiguro, who only sighs.

“Better luck next time y/n-chan!”

Taking back the note from Fushiguro, you crumple it in your hand.

“I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna kill him.” You storm off in the direction of his room. Throwing open his door, you’re met with a neat and tidy room, nothing like what you’d expect Gojo’s room to be like. It’s visibly empty, but you want to make sure he isn’t hiding anywhere or something. You check the closet, check the bathroom, and check under the bed, even though you’re pretty sure he can’t fit under there anyway. You sigh in defeat and are about to leave the room when you notice a crumpled picture sitting on his nightstand. Curious, you pick up the picture and sit down on the edge of his bed. Smoothing out the edges, tears form in your eyes when you recognize who’s in the picture. A young Gojo is standing in front of a small café, a large smile on his face and his fingers thrown up in a peace sign. He has his arm around no one other than Geto Suguru, your long-lost best friend who you haven’t seen for what feels like centuries. You’re standing between the two of them, smile bright, making bunny ears behind their heads. You wipe the tears from your eyes and stand, trying to get rid of any memories of him from your mind.

Focus on Gojo. Remember? He stole your ramen. The LAST ONE in the entire school.

The absurdity of that statement makes you start to laugh, which quickly turns into tears running down your cheeks. You don’t know why you’re crying, but you’re pretty sure it has something to do with missing your best friend. You put the picture back on his nightstand and turn to leave, and just to your luck, you run into Gojo.

“Jesus Christ Satoru, you scared me.” Looking everywhere but him, you try to subtly wipe your eyes. He grasps your cheeks and stares intently into your eyes, his crystal blue orbs boring into your e/c ones.

“Why are you crying?” He moves his hands to your shoulders and pulls you to his chest. You can’t help the sobs that wrack your body, fists balled up. You don’t even have words to describe what you’re feeling. It’s a certain emptiness inside of you, a void that you can’t fill, no matter who enters your life. Gojo being around helps you cope a little, his immaturity and playfulness distracting you from the memories of the past. But sometimes you can’t help but remember the good times the three of you had together.

“It’s Geto, isn’t it.” Gojo says quietly. You nod into his chest, and he pulls you even closer to him. “I know it hurts, y/n, but you need to accept that he’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do about it. I miss him so much that it hurts, but I've moved on, and it makes the pain easier to handle.” He rubs circles on your back, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, body relaxing into his touch. Gojo’s always had that effect on you, as much as you hated to admit it.

“I know you can do it, it just takes time. But I believe that one day, you’ll be able to let go.” You back out of his embrace, and wipe the tears from your eyes. A small sliver of light entered into your heart again, and you smile lightly.

“Thanks, Satoru. You’re right. I just need some time.” You stand there in silence for a second, until you remember the reason why you’re here in the first place. Gojo must see it in your eyes, because he turns on his heel and goes to leave. With your lightning-fast reflexes, you grab onto the back of his jacket, dragging him back into the room.

“Not so fast. Don’t think just because I was crying that means I forgot about what you did.” Turning him around so he’s fully facing you, you change your grip to his collar, pulling his face to yours, until they’re just inches apart. Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you keep inching backwards so his lips never meet yours. Smirking at his attempts, you eventually place your index finger over his mouth.

“Nuh uh. That’s what you get for stealing my ramen.” You pull away from his face, releasing your grip on his collar. Walking out of the room, you turn back to him before you round the corner, flashing him a smile and a wink. Seeing the annoyance coming off of him in waves, you start into a sprint as soon as you’re out of sight.

“Y/N!!!” The entire school can hear him, immediately knowing you’re in for a treat once Gojo catches you. Running away like a maniac, you laugh, feeling yourself already starting to let go.

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dmwrites · 2 years

Text

In terms of Zed-vancements, Zedaph’s trophy case was looking kind of empty.

“The problem is, these things take time! But it seems like nothing is happening!” Zed told his dangling mobs. “I can only do so much, I'm just the one Zed! But I want, no, I need, another Zed-vancement done. These trophies are addicting! They’re so shiny and golden! But what! What could be done?”

He had, of course, a list of ideas, but as he had told his danglers, most of them took a lot of time and preparation. Things he couldn’t just whip together in twenty minutes. He sighed in frustration, watching the danglers dangle.

In chat, Impulse asked <hey does anyone have extra boats they don’t need rn>

<I have a few and I bet I can steal some from scar> Grian replied.

<I bet I have more then all of you fools> Pearl typed seconds later.

<Of course, leave it to Boatem peeps to have tons of boats> Impulse replied.

“Boatem.” Zed muttered. “Wait. Hold the phones. Boatem… the Boatem hole… the void… that’s it! Survive falling into the void! That’s a perfect Zed-vancement! And I know it’s possible, because the Boatem people all got here via the void! Oh my- I have to go find them right now!” Zed stumbled out of his seat and took off for the nether portal, frantically typing out messages as he went.

----

Impulse, Scar, Pearl, Grian, and Mumbo walked over the hill together towards Zed’s boulder. Zed could see them coming, like a ragtag boy band but without any instruments.

“Zed, do you want to explain the message you sent us?” Impulse asked.

Zed frowned. “What do you mean? It should have been pretty clear.”

“So you’re saying that the phrase ‘I nerdy helpsgkepdimg myself I tune the void’ is cohesive in any way?” Grian asked, reading the message Zed had sent them.

“I thought it was a brain teaser.” Mumbo remarked. “Tuning the void… could be interesting.”

“No, no.” Zed held out his hands. “Friends, fellow hermits, blorbos from right in front of me. As you may or may not know, I am working to gather Zed-vancements, which are custom advancements I make up for myself to achieve. And you all have inspired me!”

“I mean, we’ve did a lot of stupid stuff while in Boatem.” Pearl said, crossing her arms. “What in particular are you trying to accomplish?”

“I need to know how you all survived in the void for three months.” Zed said it in a rush. Instantly, the mood changed. The smile dropped from Scar’s face. Grian and Pearl shifted uncomfortably. Impulse gripped his totem a little tighter. Mumbo got a far-off look in his eye.

“It’s not possible.” Pearl spoke after a few seconds. She sounded so final about it that Zed almost gave up then and there. But doubts and fear couldn’t stop him now!

“I know it is! All of you went through the void, I’ve heard the stories! And you all survived! I just want to know how it’s done.” Zed pleaded.

“You all go. I’ll do this.” Impulse waved off the others. They all went in silence. Zed watched them walk away in confusion. Impulse didn’t speak again until they could no longer be seen. “Zed, the void isn’t… a fun place.”

“Well, I know that.” Zed frowned at Impulse. “Why did you send them away?”

“Zed, have you seen the void? Like really just looked at the endlessness of it while falling to your death?” Impulse sat down on the grass.

“I mean, not in that much existential detail, but I’ve been in there.” Zed sat down too, pulling up some grass and eating it.

“Well, imagine that you don’t die. You just keep falling. It’s just darkness and air whooshing past you. Day and night cease to exist. And it’s constant uncertainty.”

“But you had your friends!” Zed reminded him.

“Yes, you’re right. Mumbo, Grian, Scar, and Pearl were my lifeline. We all were to each other. But when all you have is each other and the darkness… it changes people. It changed us. It’s not worth living in the void, Zed. Better to die. We don’t even talk about what happened in there with each other.” Impulse looked serious, not a common expression for him.

“Like what?” Zed, ever the curious, asked.

Impulse looked pained almost. “I’m talking yelling, screaming, being brought to the brink of death and nursed back to health over and over again. We aren’t meant to be in the void. Okay?”

Zed nodded. Impulse stood up, ruffling Zed’s hair, and walked off, a bit slower in his cadence. Zed watched him go, mind racing. The void, it seemed, was more of a beast then he had thought it was. Always worth testing…

#April 12 2022 #fic #hermitcraft #s9 #zedaphplays #long post

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hannie-dul-set · 4 years

Text

HOW TO GET THE GUY | l.mk

PAIRING. mark lee x g.n. reader GENRE. college! au, friends to lovers! au, FLUFF stupidly fluffy, humor WARNINGS. swearing, flustered mark LMAO WORD COUNT. 1.2k (OOPS went over the limit i’m sorry) PROMPT(S). “why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

It wasn’t exactly a remarkable day inside the lecture room. The air conditioning was broken, as usual. Windows peeled open for the air to come in, as usual. And the amount of people occupying the room was pretty much half empty. As usual.

But Mark Lee did not feel like anything like the usual, a little more peeved than any other day, and this had not gone unnoticed by his curious friend sitting beside him at the near back of the classroom.

Johnny peered at Mark suspiciously, taking note of all the evidence he could get from his friend’s disposition— the copious amount of sweat leaking from his neck, the way he’d snap his eyes to the open door every so often, and the constant fidgeting in his seat. There was only one conclusion that Johnny had come up with. He was a psychology major, there was no doubt that this was the case.

“Are you constipated?”

He couldn’t tell if the choking sound coming from Mark’s throat was an indication of a “yes” or a “no”.

“What?” Mark looked at him, appalled at the question. “No! What makes you think that?”

The older boy was just about to defend his verdict, how there was no use denying because he could see right through him, but Mark suddenly stiffened. Stuck in his seat like a glued on statue. Johnny would have assumed the worst if he hadn’t noticed Mark’s eyes following something from afar, and so he followed his line of sight, only leading to the paramount of confusion when it landed on you, approaching the both of them with a veil of subtle mirth in your demeanor.

“Good morning, Mark,” you greeted their table with a smile.

“I’m here too, you know,” Johnny stifled out a cough, taking offense from your blatant ignorance.

“Oh,” you looked over to Johnny, as if you had only noticed him just now— “Hi,” —and brought your attention back to the nervous boy that refused to meet your eyes.

“How polite of you.”

He scoffed, eyeing Mark who was yet to utter a response to your morning greeting. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, but more like he was incapable of doing so. He wasn’t sure if the redness of his ears or neck had anything to do about it, but by now he would have assumed that you would leave considering the lack of response.

But there you were, still standing in front of his poor friend, a constant smile on your face. Johnny thought that something was up.

“Do you like him or something?” he joked, a little laugh strung after with the expectation of you to laugh along, too. But you didn’t. You didn’t even spare him a glance when you answered— void from any jest or sarcasm— as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah.”

You answered.

“What about it?”

Holy shit?

At that moment, Mark flared up even more, the redness reaching all the way to his cheeks when he snapped his head to face Johnny, wide eyed and a little rattled.

“Which reminds me—”

Mark’s attention, for better or for worse, was once more stolen by you when you slammed your palms right on the plane of his desk with a loud noise, leaning forward so that the space between your noses was less than that of a pinky finger, close enough for you to notice the pinkness of his skin in all its flushed glory, and for him to be unable to evade your gleaning eyes this time. He swallowed hard.

“—why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The surprise that buzzed his veins caused him to abruptly, involuntary, jolt forward from his seat.

“Ow!”

Which landed a harsh blow on your forehead, as well as on his.

“You could have just said you didn’t want to yet,” you whined, face scrunching as you pressed a hand on the sore spot. Mark’s chair went reeling back as he stood up in concern. “I can wait, you know.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I just—” without thinking, he grabbed your face in between his palms to examine the injury he might have sustained on you, but went still in realization in the middle of it. He coughed awkwardly, dropping his hands down and averting his eyes. “Sorry.”

As if it was your life’s mission to catch him off guard at every single instance, you spoke up.

“Can you kiss me now, then? It doesn’t even have to be on the lips.”

“Why do you keep talking about kissing?!”

He’s cute even when riled up, you thought to yourself, smiling. “I thought today was day one.”

Mark suddenly stopped breathing.

Oh.

Oh my god.

“I confessed to you last night, don’t you remember?” you spoke, a brow raised in confusion. “You even walked me home. I can repeat my long, heartfelt confes—”

You were cut off by a hand aiming to cover your mouth.

Mark had momentarily forgotten the setting he was in, the people that were around him (dear god, Johnny won’t let him live this down), and the fact that class was about to start any time soon. He ignored the rampant fire that was trying to burn his skin, ignored the smugness in your eyes because fuck, your lips were practically kissing his palm right now.

“I— I said I’ll think about it!” he whisper yelled.

You gently grabbed his wrist, removing his hand. “Didn’t you have enough time to think about it last night?”

Silence.

Sometimes Mark couldn’t find any words to answer you. He didn’t care if it was the right or wrong answer. He just wanted you to stop being struck speechless by you all the time.

“What about now?” you piqued, a smile as you slightly jutted forward. “Have you thought about it now?”

He backed off instantaneously, a nervous crack accompanying his voice as he defended. “I need— I think I need more time.”

“Ah, I was confident that you liked me back,” you sighed, disappointed. At that, you finally ushered yourself out of his sight, but maybe that was because the professor had already come in and you still have enough shame in your body to behave more accordingly. Or you just didn’t want to be scolded. Mark thought it was the latter. “But considering that you still need to think about it, I guess not.”

You gave a quick nod to Johnny, who stayed silent as he watched the entire television drama play right before his eyes, before you completely passed them by. Johnny sent a look to Mark, aggressively nudging his head to your direction as you slowly went further back, but stopped by the desk right behind his after being called out by a classmate for a quick question. Don’t blow it, dumbass, was what Johnny was trying to tell him.

Johnny was right.

“Wait.”

Mark turned around, just before you slipped away to your seat. You gave him a questioning glance.

“Let’s—” he cleared his throat, the flushing of his skin still ever present. “Let’s talk after class?”

You smiled at him. A nod was given in affirmation.

“I’ll be expecting my kiss later, Marky.”

#NCT-WRITERS #cznnet #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #mark lee fluff #mark fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #mark lee college au #mark college au #mark lee scenarios #mark scenarios #nct scenarios

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ura-writes · 3 years

Text

Trampolinist

Summary - You’re a player who jumps from server to server, often revisiting several and always trying to find access to new ones. When a victorious game of duos Skywars on Hypixel wins you an invitation to one of the most famous yet exclusive servers in the community, you find a world you never knew existed, allies you’re not certain you can trust, and enemies that may not be just that. Oh, yeah, and an anarchist piglin hybrid.

(c!technoblade/server jumper!reader)

Basic warnings: minor blood, swearing, light threats

A/N - hello! I decided to start this series as a result of a sporadic idea at midnight after quite an odd dream. Some information you might need:

A few select people can jump servers without using portals, and you (the reader) are one of them.

Some servers are public and some require invites. Hypixel and a lot of the other bigger servers are public, while SMPs such as the Dream SMP are private and require an invite.

Jumpers, as they are commonly referred to throughout the series, still require an invite to private servers, though some have figured out loopholes to this process and actively exploit it, earning the title of “Crashers”. You have figured it out but don’t use the ability.

The rating for this series is 14-15+, most likely including minor to graphic descriptions of blood/injuries, violence, swearing, minor manipulation and death.

There are select groups of people who hate Jumpers and actively try to perma-kill them or get them source-banned from servers, leaving them stuck in single player and isolation.

From the author:

This will be in second person.

There will be no use of Y/N or (Y/N) or anything along those lines. I understand some people use them as a descriptor, but in my opinion, it looks a bit messy/choppy.

Feel free to criticize, though don’t be super harsh.

Also gl free to point out spelling mistakes.

I love love LOVE feedback! Gimme it! Please! /lh /gen

Anyway, those are the basics that you need to know! For now, at least… hehe.

Enjoy the first part!

-ura

——

The familiar particles signalling a personal portal opening in the lobby sends a few people scattering, but most just move to the side, though there are a fair few that stay to watch the person step out of the rip in reality.

The person stumbles out, cursing the deities to high heaven, brushing dirt and sweat and even a bug off of their face, certainly looking a bit worse for wear.

This was certainly not what the audience was expecting. They were expecting a prim, proper or at least somewhat distinguished person to step out of the actively sparking spiral, as most Jumpers are that way, even just a bit.

Nope.

“What are you looking at?”

The people step back a bit, noticing the sword the person clutches in their hand.

That person is you.

“Fuck off, would you? You probably see Jumpers on the daily! Fuckin’ annoying.” you grumble, sheathing the sword at your side. “Fuck… is this Hypixel?”

With a cursory sweep of the attire of the people surrounding you and buildings towering over everyone, you determine that yes, it is, in fact, Hypixel.

Of course, that may have also been the big-ass sign in the sky with the server’s name on it. That too.

With a sigh and a wave of your hand, you pull your inventory up. The typical “please place your personal belongings in a safe place before playing a match, otherwise they may be wiped.” message pops up when you do. You huff, wave your fingers to dismiss the text. Not like you’ve been here a hundred thousand times or anything like that.

The Netherite blade at your side, your armor and any sentimental belongings you have on you go straight into your enderchest, categorized in one of the shulker boxes designated specifically for this purpose.

As you walk along, trying to sort your inventory out (fortunately the server provides a free repair and replace to anyone’s clothing, as yours are beaten pretty much beyond self-help), deciding what match you might want to play, the crowd that was surrounding you quickly scurries off with a few screams.

A quick glance upwards catches your gaze on a red and white nametag.

Huh. Don’t see those often.

Whispers of the name you can’t quite see from where you stand rapidly reach your ears, ringing with slight familiarity.

Dream.

Odd. The masked man doesn’t often come onto public servers, mainly sticking to his own private server, named after him. The Dream SMP. How egotistical.

Without another glance towards the fan-people, you select a game idly. The blue text pops up in front of you, confirming your want to play the match.

Skywars Duos.

Before you know it, you’re whisked off to the arena, a bit dizzy from your landing, but fine nonetheless. The timer for the start slowly counts down, ticking slowly as people pop into existence with increasing frequency.

A presence behind you alerts you to your teammate. You nod at them just as the beeping of the final ten seconds counts down.

After a few repeated sessions, most being losses, you decide on one more match before you head to a tavern for the night, preferably one with a view.

This time you’re the second one to arrive. And for once, you take a longer look at your teammate.

He’s the guy everyone was freaking out about a few hours earlier… what was his name again? Dr-something. Or was it a Tr-something? Ah, who knows. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s good. You don’t bother to look at his nametag; he’s probably just some hotshot who thinks he’s all that.

“Not going to freak out?” he asks you. You snort at the question, shaking your head with a glance at the timer.

“Just here to kick ass.”

“Fair enough,” he replies. “You any good?”

A laugh from you echoes as the beeping of the countdown starts.

“We’ll see.”

The barrier below you drops, sending you hurtling to the floating island below. You quickly hit the ground, rolling into a crouch while your teammate raids the chest beside you, tossing a few bits of armor and a stone axe as well as a golden apple, which you catch and nod gratefully.

The hood on his head drops when another player attempts to take him out of the game. He ducks, barely avoiding the glimmer of the enchanted sword, sweeping her legs out from under her. The enemy player narrowly rolls out of the way with her shield being knocked out of her hands into the dark blue void below the floating island.

She curses loudly as his axe lands beside her head, kicking it to the side.

In that moment, you shove her hard off of the crumbling stone, jabbing your axe in her shoulder for final measure. Her falling figure flashes red with the loss of hearts, and eventually, she disintegrates into dust, the announcement of her tag being eliminated in the chat making you smirk.

“Well, you are good.”

You send him a smirk and collect the spoils of your kill, mostly a few potions and the iron blade, tossing a few of the former to your teammate and splashing a speed potion on yourself.

With practiced movements you begin to build to the middle islands, your teammate throwing the occasional snowball at any approaching enemy players, even knocking one off their bridge. The message of their death rings in the chat, being the fifth elimination.

The chests there contain better loot, even a diamond sword and chestplate, a strength II potion and a Power I bow with fifteen arrows. You take the bow and chestplate (with permission from your teammate, who gladly takes the sword and potion) and book it to the center chests, almost laughing at the amount of snowballs and arrows lying there.

“Well, I’m not complaining,” you muse.

You hear a yell of your tag, quickly spinning around to block the swing of an enchanted axe, their teammate quickly turning to gang up on you after finishing off another person.

Great. You’re fighting two people now.

Swing, duck, dodge, swipe, duck, swipe, block—shit, you got stabbed! Two hearts disappear from your health bar, sending a flurry of curses flying from your lips.

But luckily, your teammate is fast enough to eliminate the weaker of the two.

The tables turn.

The clash of blades, splash of potions and grunts of pain quickly move to the edge of the center island. It’s two verses one now, and the three of you are the last competitors in the match.

Block the swing, return the blow, duck, block, dodge—

A sudden stab in your shoulder alerts you to an arrow stuck in the skin there, slowly depleting your health.

It’s merely a distraction.

The enemy player barrels into you, sending you stumbling backwards right at the edge of crumbling gravel.

Poison becomes your downfall.

The smack of another half heart.

As one last resort, you grip onto the block with one hand, the other dangling with your bow into the void. Gritting your teeth, you do your damndest to drag yourself up, the poison wreaking havoc through your body and strength.

Shit. I’m not going to survive this, am I?

The one-handed grip on your bow tightens, nocked arrow slipping between your dirt-covered fingers.

You make a decision.

Just as the enemy player comes over, smirking but low on health, you let go of the block, drawing your arrow back as you fall into the void.

The broadhead meets its mark just in time, signalling a victory with a dragon appearing underneath you right before you hit the death line. A sigh of relief escapes your lips; you direct the dragon upwards with a rush of gratefulness soaring through your body. Respawning isn’t a pleasant process.

Twenty or so seconds later, you appear back in the lobby with your teammate at your side. The lobby is nearly empty, only a few people milling around, most having traveled elsewhere or checked into a tavern or hotel.

“You’re good. We could use you on our side.”

“ ‘We’?”

Two other figures appear out of seemingly nowhere, one wearing white-rimmed black sunglasses with a blue hoodie, the other a bandana and a white hoodie with flames on the front of it.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, calling up a portal in your mind, ready to dash through it at the slightest hint of a threat. Sparks form by your palms, their signature color drawing the leader’s attention.

“Calm down. I have no interest in killing you.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you retort. “Three versus one isn’t exactly fair y’know.” The sparks grow brighter; though they are primarily used to call up portals, they can deal quite a blow to anyone who forcefully comes into contact with them.

Dream (you now read off his nametag, getting sick of referring to him by random aliases) extends a hand in front of his body. Something hovers in it, glowing a soft white and reading something you can’t quite make out.

“It’s not going to kill you.”

Bandanna laughs at that.

“Reassuring,” you snap, taking a closer look at it.

Invitation: Dream SMP

Active?: Yes

Expires: Never

Taken aback, you sputter out a few jumbled sentences before asking why they’d invite you of all people. Sure, you may be okay at Skywars, but that doesn’t warrant an invitation to literally the most exclusive server in the network.

“Uh—what?”

You take a quick glance at the two others, noting their tags are red and white as well, reading Sapnap and Georgenotfound.

“You don’t have to accept.” Dream steps forward to set the glowing orb in your hands. “Just know that we picked you for a very good reason.

How… interesting.

“Is it ‘cause I’m an inactive Crasher?”

The three stiffen at the moniker used for the infamous Jumpers, the ones who figure out ways around the system, the lines of fate that make up the different servers, finding loopholes that not even the best Mender can. They exploit them, gaining almost god-like abilities on the server only to wreak absolute anarchy on the infrastructure until the admin can step in, if they haven’t been eliminated from the system or perma-killed already.

From what little you know about the Dream SMP, you know the admin is a god of sorts, mostly staying out of the way but occasionally fixing matters that need it. Otherwise they stay… wherever gods stay.

“No,” George pipes up. You note his accent, odd and slightly out of place, but not unpleasant. “You being a Jumper does help, however.”

You’ve heard of elusive servers where Jumpers have access to a lot of power and near-unlimited resources, though no one can quite figure out why. Those servers are typically entirely anarchy.

“Yeah, sure.” But you clutch the invitation closer to your person anyway. It glows a bit brighter at the increased contact.

“Think on it.”

Those words echo through your mind throughout the rest of the night, in your bed, subconsciously in your dreams and into the next morning.

It’s no easy decision. You know you’ll be dragged into all sorts of politics, conflict and battles unlike the Skywars ones you usually find yourself dealing with.

Your hand grips the glowing ball a bit tighter, reading the same three statements engraved on it repeatedly until the words are branded into your mind.

And then it disappears.

“Invitation accepted.”

#mcyt x reader #reader insert #xreader #x reader #mcyt x you #technoblade x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #Trampolinist: Series

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milliedazzledust · 4 years

Text

Unspoken (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request by @screechingdreamercollectorsblog : the reader lost all her family and also a twin sister. She’s in love with Bucky but he doesn't know and no one knows her story except Steve but he never told it as it was her decision. One day Wanda tells her "you don't know what it’s like to lose somebody especially a twin." And Reader said "Actually I do." And then She walks away. Bucky heard It and goes to talk to her and also they confess each other feelings. Also She starts an amazing friend ship with Wanda.

Words: 3183 words

A/N: So many ideas, I feel like this needs to be a several part story. Thanks for the request, this was fun to write -

She thought a lot about her family. The memory of their death, the circumstances that led to it, the guilt. It was all a constant reminder, every day, of what she lost. She often felt like she was walking with a shadow on her back, consuming what was left of light, making her into this gloomy person everyone was so afraid to get close to. In a way, she was glad. Her guilt made her believe living this way was her sentence and she couldn’t allow anybody else to carry her burden. One person knew though, the only hope on her pathway. Steve Rogers. He hadn’t been bold enough to ask her up front but instead waited, close enough so she knew he was there, until she was ready to confide in him. Late one night, he had found her crying on the rooftop of the Avengers tower. Silently, he had put a blanket on her shoulders and had sit next to her. Without looking at him, she had told him everything. There had been no judgment from the Captain, not even a look of pity. He promised he wouldn’t tell a soul and after that, she grew closer from the man she considered now family.

That’s how Steve picked up on what was happening in front of his eyes before anybody else. Everyday, he would catch Bucky’s eyes lingering on her. The Soldier often asked Steve about her, he could guess the sadness behind every broken smile. Behind her cracks, he could almost see his own. She reminded him a lot of what it had mean to become the Winter Soldier, of the pain his mind had endured as Hydra tore it into pieces. While he was curious of her past, he also understood that whatever it was, she hadn’t dealt with it. The grief was evident and he wanted nothing more than to help her anyway he could, but every time he took a step toward her, she took three more backward. Steve assured him it wasn’t his fault. They both could see the internal struggle within her, the raging battle between self-inflicted pain and sheer will to live again. So far, she hadn’t give in and instead opted for an illusion only Steve and Bucky weren’t falling for.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the overbearing weight of grief. That specific day marked the one year anniversary of their battle in Sokovia. There was an eerie, gloomy atmosphere inside the compound. For the Avengers, it was the reminder of a difficult battle, of many lives lost, of victory. For Wanda Maximoff, it was the day she lost her brother. She had barely left her bedroom and no one dared go speak to her. Natasha and Vision had gone to see how she was doing but she had refused the company. They could all hear her crying and had collectively silently agreed that it was better to let her process her feelings alone. Y/N was debating wether she should follow their example. She had been standing close to Wanda’s bedroom door for the past hour when she felt a presence next to her.

“You should go talk to her” She heard someone whisper.

She turned her head, her eyes landing on a pretty concerned Captain.

“Wil it really make a difference ?” She asked.

“She’s hurting” Steve answered. “Just like you”

The woman dropped her head.

“I’m not sure, I .. I won’t know what to say”

“You’ll know exactly what to say, Y/N. You’ve both lost a lot”

“So have you. So have everybody here”

He sadly nodded.

“Why does it have to be me ?”

“Because we’ve all grieved. We made peace with whatever happened to us. We don’t feel sadness, anger or guilt just thinking about whomever we lost.” He explained. “You do. Just like her.”

She pursed her lips.

“I can’t pretend to understand, Y/N, because I don’t. I see the mountain that is your pain everyday when I look into your eyes. And, behind this door is a friend who’s going through the same loss you’ve experienced. Even if you haven’t dealt with the death of your sister, you know what it was like for her to lose Pietro, to live without him, to not be capable to let yourself be alive when half of you isn’t anymore”

Hearing his words was enough to reopen the gigantic wound inside her chest. She knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, encouraging her with a soft smile.

“Alright. I’ll go”

She glanced at Wanda’s bedroom before looking back at Steve and swallowed the lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance and knocked. Not waiting for an answer, she walked inside. She knew if she had ask Wanda, the Witch would have let her wait without an answer until she left.

The young woman was sitting on her bed, her gaze drifting into space. Y/N wasn’t sure she had even acknowledge her presence. All she could see was her soul bleeding an ocean through her eyes. When she sat next to her on the bed, Wanda tried to brush the tears away but it was useless. She couldn’t stop crying.

“I’m sorry you lost him” Y/N whispered.

She cursed under her breath, knowing those were in no way comforting words.

“If you came to tell me you understand, you can leave” She replied with a thick accent.

For a moment, Y/N did not say a word. She was thinking hard of something that could appease her friend, but her mind was blank.

“Are you also going to ask me if I’m okay” She heard Wanda say.

“What is the point ? I know you’re not”

She sighed.

“I’ve always hated that question. How are you suppose to know how you are if all you can feel is emptiness… It’s easier to say yes, put on a smile and turn your head”

“Is that why you’re here ? Are you expecting a yes or the truth ?”

“I already know the truth”

Wanda humorlessly chuckle.

“Are you going to pretend you know what I’m feeling ?” She told her with irony

“That’s the thing. I don’t need to pretend”

She felt her friend tense beside her.

“You should leave”

“Wanda…”

“No!” She shouted, getting up to put a distance between them. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m gonna be alright! I don’t need to hear it will hurt less with time, that I will forget ! Because I won’t, okay, I won’t!”

She started sobbing. For a split second, Y/N thought about hugging her, but she knew that this wouldn’t be a good idea. When her sister died, she couldn’t bear the hugs. They were so full of light and hope, such a bright contrast to the dark that was surrounding her. So she stayed on the bed, and watched her friend break down. Wanda needed the pain, she needed the anger, because they would inevitably lead to the last stage of grief. To life.

“Stop pretending to get this … this torture, because I can assure you, you don’t” Wanda vehemently told her, pacing around the room. “My heart is broken, okay ? It’s … It’s shattered. Not even in pieces, because he took those with him when he died.”

“Wanda …”

“No! You don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody !” Wanda yelled back. “Especially a twin!”

“Actually, I do”

Wanda instantly stopped walking and turned back to her friend, surprised. She watched Y/N playing with her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay, her eyes fixed on her lap, refusing to catch a glimpse of pity when she’ll start talking.

“It.. It doesn’t stop. The pain, I mean. It’s like this overbearing weight that crushes you every single minute of every single day. And when you get a moment to breath, a moment where you don’t feel your heart might explode of sadness, you feel guilty. So all that’s left of you now is pain and guilt. I can’t tell you it’ll get better, because it never did for me.”

She brushed the tears on her cheek as Wanda slowly sat back next to her.

“The world stopped when I lost her, my twin I mean” She continued, starring into space. “And I try, I swear I try to make it work again, but to this day all I keep asking myself is why her … why her and not…me. She was so much stronger than me, she deserved …”

A sob escaped her lips, preventing her from speaking.

“Steve told me I would be able to help you, because I understand your pain. But I can’t. What good would it do to you if I told you I feel like dying every time I think about my memories of her ?”

She humorlessly laughed.

“What good would it do if I confess I don’t want to live because I’m scarred of forgetting ? That I can’t breathe because each breath feels like I’ve cheated death ? That I’m becoming a void of darkness silently sinking ?”

They stayed silence before Wanda’s hand slowly came to hold hers. They spent a short moment without talking. Two woman with broken soul that understood each other on a level no one else’s could.

“You know ..” The Witch started to mutter. “Vis’ told me something once, and it stuck up on me ever since.”

“What was it ?”

“What is grief, if not love persevering”

A tear roll down Y/N’s cheeks, the words stabbing her right through the chest. Suddenly, she was up on her feet, alert and disoriented. This was sheer pain like she had rarely known, wide open scars bleeding through her soul.

“I can’t” She breathlessly told her friend. “I … I’m … I’m sorry Wanda I ca..”

And she fled the room. As soon as she stepped outside of it, she bumped into a muscular chest. Stopping in her tracks, she looked up. That’s when she saw it, what she dreaded the most. A look of pity. Bucky was standing in front of her, searching her eyes, his mouth open like the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he couldn’t voice any of them. He raised an arm toward her, a reflex to comfort the woman he cared the most about, but she was gone in a second. He turned back to glance at Wanda. The woman sadly smile and shook her head.

“Go get her” She simply told him.

And just like that, he was gone. He started by her bedroom, but she wasn’t there. He went to the lab, asked Tony and Bruce if they had seen her, but she wasn’t there. He passed by the gym, than their living room, but again, she was not there. He was almost running inside the building, going anywhere he could think of, but there was no sign of her. He was very frustrated when he crossed path with his best friend.

“Wha …” Steve started to ask.

“Y/N” Barnes only answered, almost out of breath.

The Captain hummed, watching his distress, knowing it was a bad time to ask him about it.

“She’s on the roof”

Bucky didn’t wait, not even hearing what Steve said next, and fled. He didn’t take the elevator and rushed up the stairs. It was a long way up but he did not care. All his mind was focused on was closing the distance between them. Finally, she was there. Sitting on the edge of the building, the sun shining so bright above their head.

“Please tell me you were not thinking of jumping” He said, half joking.

She didn’t turn around to look at him. She had felt his presence before he was even near her.

“The thought crossed my mind” She admitted.

He didn’t want to know if she was joking. Quietly, he stepped next to her and sat on the border, his legs dangling in the air.

“What happened ?” He inquired.

“I just … I thought I could help Wanda and…”

“That’s not what I’m asking” He cut her. “What happened to you Y/N ?”

She pursed her lips, turning for the first time to look back at him. She was almost expecting to see the pity in his eyes, but instead it had been replaced by worry.

“I had a family before the Avengers”

“A family you’ve lost” He guessed.

“…Yes. I couldn’t save them”

He raised his head toward her. She could see the millions of questions he had behind his stare. He was too polite to ask her but she knew he wanted to know. So she turned back to look at the garden in front of the compound, focused on the daisies Tony had insisted to have, and started to tell him her story.

“My parents were … scientists. Experts in genome manipulation. They were working for the government, for Shield. They discovered something important, something they wouldn’t tell us anything about. They started to get edgy, paranoiac, always looking over their shoulder. Whatever it was they found, they were scared. We fled America at the time. My sister and I, we didn’t understand what was happening, we didn’t get that … that they knew they were gonna die. That they were trying to keep us alive”

“What did they find ?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here”

“I don’t understand”

She closed her eyes, remembering them.

“They experimented it on me”

“What ?”

He was shocked.

“We were in Stockholm at the time. One night, they took me to their lab, they said they needed me to work. I was seventeen, just so happy to be with them, so I said yes. Four days later, I woke up alone, surrounded by ashes and no memories. I found …” She stopped for a second, her lips quivering. “I found what was left of their bodies. My sister was there too. All of them, dead.”

Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I was convinced I killed them, I couldn’t move, I was just … stuck. So I stayed there, laying on the ground, next to their bodies, until Tony found me.”

“That’s how you came to live with Stark”

“Yes. He took me in, changed my name and my story, made me swear to never talk about this”

“Why ?”

“He helped me figure out what happened that night. My parents did succeed in their experiment. They made me … enhanced. That’s what they called it anyway”

“They gave you your powers” He guessed.

“Yes. The same day, Shield found them. While I was under, they put a bullet in their head. My sister was supposed to be sick, at home. But she sneaked out and hid in the lab. She just wanted to be with us. Shield tried to make it seen like it was an accident, a malfunction”

“An explosion”

She nodded.

“Yes. They blew up the lab, with all of us in there”

“But you didn’t die”

“I absorbed the blast”

“Oh…”

She brushed the tears off her face, looking at her trembling hands. It was useless to try to make them stop.

“I never found out who was behind their assassination, or what I am suppose to be”

“What you’re suppose to be ?” He repeated, surprised.

“They put their secret inside me, that’s how I came to be. But what is it, and what am I?”

He frowned, his mind working a thousand miles an hour.

“Do you really think this changes who you are ?” He asked her.

“I lost my identity, Bucky. I lost the person I was. Those powers, they turn me into something I’m not”

“Are you saying I’m the Winter Soldier? That I’m … not a person anymore but a program design to kill ?”

He knew the answer to that question, but he needed her to understand.

“Of course not!” She vehemently answered.

“This is the same fight, Y/N. Hydra might have wiped out my memories, but Bucky Barnes reappeared each time they tried to erase him, because this is who I am. My strength, my arm, my alter-ego, they don’t define who Bucky is. The kid that grew up in Brooklyn does”

“Do you really believe that ?”

“I believe we’ve been broken. But it doesn’t mean we can’t be fix”

His metal arm moved to hold her hand. When she turns around to look at him, he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his human hand before brushing his fingertips on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I don’t know how many times you’ll need to hear this, Y/N, but we’re not beyond repair” He whispered.

A shiver ran up her spine at his whole demeanor. His shoulders held high, his eyes boring into hers, all she could see was his rage to live, his will to rebuilt stronger foundations around their broken pieces. No it was not pity anymore, nor was it worry. All she saw now was admiration.

“You and I, we are survivors” He said with force.

He was a warm light she had yearn to feel, fresh air she thought would never touch her skin again. Wordlessly, she laid her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. She didn’t want this feeling to go away and wished to hard she could bottle up this moment with him forever. They stayed like this, her body against his, his hand entangled in her hair, his chin resting above her head, and for a moment none of them spoke.

“Why do I feel so guilty to have you” She muttered so low he almost didn’t hear her.

“Because you know I can bring you peace” He honestly answered next to her ear.

“If I let you in, if I take the risk to be hurt again and I lose you…”

“You won’t”

“You don’t know that for sure”

“I know I’ve got strong feelings for you, and they won’t go away”

“And I feel the same, but we’re gonna get hurt”

“Isn’t that what love is about ? Navigating between feelings so loud they can’t be shut down, even after death. Stop being so afraid to keep on living, Y/N.”

“Bucky …” She called, slowly raising her head to look at him.

“I’m not giving you a choice, doll.”

Before she could talk herself out of this, he closed the short distance between them and laid his lips on hers. Suddenly, what was a flame became a raging fire in the pit of her stomach. She could feel her heart pumping all the way to her ears, feel the tingling sensation of his fingertips against her skin, a sense of peace finally. This was raw emotions they were sharing, sparks of electricity they were making as their lips were moving. Their own world they were creating. A promise they were sealing.

“You’re gonna be okay” He assured her, kissing her forehead.

“Promise me you’ll stay, Bucky”

“For as long as you’ll let me” He finished.

She looked up at him with hope.

“I promise”

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier x reader #falcon and the winter soldier

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haikyuucute · 4 years

Note

I commented on your kyoutani post about his omega chilling him the fuck out, and would be SO happy if you considered writing about it 🥺🥺🥺 Essa, u r so amazinnnngggg

You’re so sweet, ily😭😭 thank you for requesting this, I had so much fun writing it💝💝

Warnings: None

Soothe (Alpha!Kyoutani Kentarou x Omega!Reader)

Alphas such as Kyoutani Kentarou were a .... curious breed.

The kind of alpha that is easily set off just by someone’s scent not being to his liking.

He was a ticking time bomb and everyone was holding their breath until the next time he went feral.

A feral alpha was a scary being to witness and unfortunately for Kyoutani, he was prone to this, but everything just made him so angry. He wished he could stop it, but he was never good at learning self control.

It was why he liked volleyball.

It was the one thing he found he was good at and a way for him to channel his aggression.

But ever since high school had started, it changed.

Now he had to put up with other alphas telling him what to do, and as much as he respected Iwaizumi and would do as he said, when the others told him what to do, he was close to punching a hole in the wall.

And today, just felt like the world was out to get him more than usual.

Everything he did on court was sloppy, and to make up for this off day he ended up putting more and more force behind each and every spike.

The others were annoyed with him, yelling at him to calm down or sit out if he had to, anything to make him stop playing so unnecessarily aggressive.

Between getting yelled at and his own frustrations with himself, he stormed out of the gym. To where? He had no idea. He just needed to leave before he ended up hurting someone.

His mind was a tornado of rage and he could barely think or see straight, hands curled into tight fists and eyes narrowed fiercely, ready to tear apart the next person that decided to approach him.

He hadn’t noticed the group of omegas he passed until it was too late.

Not until he was completely frozen in his spot, eyes widened impossibly large.

Peach.

He could practically taste it. Sweet and juicy making his tastebuds stir as he could almost feel the juice of a peach run down his throat, making him swallow pointlessly.

But the feeling the scent brought was indescribable. It was warm and welcoming— peaceful.

Kyoutani forgot what it felt like to be at peace, it was an emotion that had abandoned him ever since he had presented as an alpha.

The veil of anger had suddenly lifted in those few short moments, and when he was able to grab ahold of himself he suddenly remembered the omegas.

It had to be one of them.

And whoever you were, you were his.

He spun around on his heel, but had been met with an empty hallway.

You and your friends were already gone.

The only sign that you had been there was the peachy flavor that still lingered on his tongue.

—

It was not in Kyoutani’s blood to give up easily, so thus began the search for you.

He had never been aware as to just how many omegas attended Aobajohsai until he decided to look for one and it was exhausting to say the least.

Days had gone by which eventually turned to weeks.

Weeks of Kyoutani searching for that sweet peachy scent. Not a day had passed that he wasn’t actively searching for you.

But all the omegas he saw, were all wrong. It was almost as if he had conjured up the scent in his head.

He refused to believe that was the case and continued his search.

...Until he didn’t have to any more.

He thought he was imagining it, that he was simply remembering the soothing scent of the sweet omega he never even saw, as a response to how he was currently feeling.

He was told to sit down during practice— it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the coach to tell him to sit when he noticed he was getting too riled up.

So there he sat, head down with a towel over his head, attempting to calm himself down when the same scent from a few weeks ago washed over him like it did that day.

His whole body went stiff, head jerking upwards as his eyes searched the gym frantically.

And there you were, speaking with the coach.

He couldn’t move as he stared at you— you were pretty, much prettier than he ever imagined. You smiled as you spoke to the coach and it made his heart flutter.

He then watched as the coach called Oikawa off the court.

His eyes widened in confusion at the exchange that followed. Oikawa exclaiming something or other as he tugged you into a hug, clearly happy to see you. You had giggled in response, complaining about how sweaty he was and trying to pull away from his grasp.

This... this wasn’t right.

Was Oikawa your mate? No... you couldn’t have been. There was no mark on your neck and you didn’t smell like him either.

So then why was he touching you.

Kyoutani felt a growl rumble in the back of his throat, eyes glued to where Oikawa had his hand on your shoulder now— Kyoutani had never even spoken to you and yet he was acting like this.

”She’s pretty isn’t she?”

Kyoutani blinked, looking over at Yahaba who was suddenly standing beside him, staring at your and Oikawa’s exchange.

”What’s her name?” He demanded of his teammate before looking back at you.

”(L/N) (F/N). She’s a third year and good friends with the third years on the team. She’s really cool.”

”Does she have a mate?”

Yahaba looked at him in surprise, “Do you have a thing for (L/N)?”

”Does she have a mate?” He reiterated, more annoyed now.

”No she doesn’t. But good luck trying to get an omega like (L/N). She turns down alphas almost every day, even some betas from time to time— actually, I’m pretty sure she even rejected an omega once or twice.”

Kyoutani tuned him out as he continued to ramble.

You were leaving now, about to pass him and Yahaba to get to the exit, when you noticed his piercing gaze.

You recognized him immediately as the alpha that you were sure was about to go feral one afternoon when he passed by you and your friends— it was why you all left so quickly.

But his gaze had you pinned, almost suffocating you, forcing you to freeze.

He held something possessive in his eyes as he looked up at you from his seat and it filled your stomach with butterflies.

You were used to getting stared at by alphas, but this was different— you were finding yourself wanting to submit to the alpha before you, even in front of a gym full of people.

”Omega,” his voice came out as a growl, and where many other omegas would’ve run for the hills in fear of how aggressive he was coming off right now, your lips quirked up in a grin.

”Alpha,” you nodded, a mutual understanding that this would be far from over before you continued walking.

You quickly glanced at your friends on the court, all the third years gazing at you peculiarly after the exchange they had just witnessed between you and their uncontrollable teammate. But you simply grinned and shrugged at them before leaving the gym.

Little did they know, you’d become their greatest weapon during games to get the alpha to calm down.

Requests are open!

Taglist:

@shiguraaa @tycrackculture @kynyta @cuddlesslut @baeshijima @yams046 @cutepet09 @kkimoka @elegant-gypsophilia @mrkoala4prsdnt @sapphy-taffy6969 @yougivemebutterfliess @melanieacademy @yeet-these-hoez @nekomasmeow @thirsthourdemon @nekoma-hoe @curiouslilbeast @badboysdoitbetter2 @nervousenergyy @coupsieddori @mizuchan24-blog @ly-nia @mer92 @voids-universe @savemesteeb @bokurotrash @basicallyberry @cherryonigiri @k-eijiakaashi @ethylalcoholforfandoms @sanemisthiccbih @a-book-lover-things @rue-was-here @prod983 @reject-tinkerbell @emotionalfangirl2002 @kawaiipotatochan @alienatia @mortifiedmoon @amirahroronoa @wholeasswhore @asahi-is-jesus-periodt @fake-id-69 @kkoalaworld @hithisismina @lilidrawz @royalmuffinsworld @amberisnotcrazy @atsunakaashi @srhlsx

#haikyuu #omegaverse #haikyuu omegaverse #kyoutani kentarou #kyoutani #kentarou #kyoutani kentarou x reader #kyoutani x reader #kentarou x reader #alpha!kyoutani #kyoken #kyoken x reader

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127-mile · 4 years

Text

Pairing : demon!Jaehyun x fem!reader.

Genre : demon!au / yandere-ish!au / fluff, angst, mature content.

Warnings : This is not what a normal loving relationship is like, this is a work of fiction. fingering (fem. receiving) unprotected sex (kids, please be smart) coming inside. non sexual choking. mention of deaths. explicit (kind of, it’s pretty soft) and non explicit deaths. blood. alcohol consumption. mention of drugs. manipulation. toxic relationship.

Word count : +10.1k.

Plot : Instead of having a guardian angel, you have a guardian demon. His methods are often more violent, but they are more straight forward. What does he have that the regular guardians don’t ? An obsession. You.

You didn’t think being assigned to a demon was a simple mistake, do you ?

A/N : This is part of the Halloween collab made by the incredible @neo-cult-ure. We had to choose a song, mine is Kill for you by Zolita.

Taglist : @plump-peach / @crtznstuff / @kriselynne / @yourmagnanimousholiness / @soothingjae / @peachjaem00 / @chanslaptopp / @luvlyjaemin / @jeongyoonohs / @junghoe / @nakayutasama / @ddaawwnn7

"Say my name." the voice in your ear is hoarse, and it echoes in your head. You feel the man's hands along your arms, and his fingers leave a scorching trail in their paths. "Say my name." he repeats one more time, and you make the mistake of opening your eyes. What you see is not human, the eyes are red, deep and empty of any kind of humanity, you see yourself in the void. "Say my name, and I will show you wonders that humans can only dream of." His voice is urgent, and though you are thinking, you can not remember his name.

The weight of the man's body against yours is both agonizing and reassuring, you must be losing your mind, and he is the reason. His voice, his perfume -a mixture of burnt wood, and something irresistible that you are unable to describe- and the power of his gaze from which you can't take your eyes off. "Come on, my sweet love, say my name." a shiver runs down yuor body, and you arch your back off the bed when you feel the man's tongue running down your throat, and god, you cant to feel more. He is more addicting than any drug you have ever tried.

The window is open, you can feel the cool breeze on your bare body and yet, it feels like you are burning from the inside. Drops of sweat pearl at your hairline. You open your mouth, but no words come out, only an embarrassing moan as the man's teeth pierce through the skin of your neck, but you don't have time to think about the pain because his tongue soothes the wound right away.

Once again, you find yourself unable to move, or to think and the man sits up but you refuse to meet his gaze once more, too afraid to lose yourself in his eyes. To lose yourself completely. "Until I met you, I was convinced that angels were the only creatures capable of such beauty, but you proved me wrong. They should be ashamed to show themselves when you exist, my love."

His voice is suddenly painful, and you feel your heart twist. Maybe it was a trick, because you open your eyes without hesitation, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better. But all you see is a smile. A bloody smile. "If you don't say my name, I'm going to have to force you to say it. It would be a shame to see your pretty tongue being ripped out, don't you think ?" his voice is cold now, as cold as the fingers he wraps around your throat. "Say it !"

Fear, you feel nothing but fear. But what are you afraid of ? To have offended him, or to die ? You do not know. Your breathing is getting slower, and your field of vision is darkening until you can see nothing but darkness, and feel nothing but the cold. Everything is cold, so so cold.

You open your eyes, a sudden coughing fit waking you up fully. Your eyes are full of tears running down your sleep-swollen cheeks and your lips taste metallic, you must have bitten them during the night. You put your hands around your neck where you thought you would still feel the pressure of the stranger's fingers, but nothing.

Your lungs are burning, and you sit up to catch your breath. It's long, and rather difficult but you get there. The room is only illuminated by the rays of sunshine passing through the curtains, and all you see are the small particles of dust flying around the room. Then, your gaze falls on something. Or someone, and a cry broken by your aching throat escape your lips.

As fast as it arrived, the shadow vanishes and you shake your head. You have barely woken up from a terrible dream, your mind is only playing tricks on you, nothing more.

"What the fuck..." you mumble, running your fingers through your hair. You feel the drops of sweat running down your spine, and you don't waste a minute getting out of bed. A cold shower will do you the most good, you think, heading to the only bathroom. Under the jet of water, you think about your dream. The man's touch seemed so real that if you focus you can still feel the burn from his fingers.

It's not the first time you had a dream with this man, it's not the first time he's asked you to say his name, but it's the first time he's become threatening, and scary. You sigh, and come out of the water after rising your hair. In the mirror, you notice a mark on your neck, and you walk closer with a frown. "What ?" the mark vaguely resembles a bite. Right where the man bit you. But it can only be a coincidence, right ? Maybe you did this to yourself during the night.

You come out of the bathroom wearing only a towel around your chest. When you enter the room, you have the unpleasant feeling of being watched. Yet when you turn, you see nothing but the mirror hanging from the door. You are going crazy, there is no other explanation. If your mother was there, she would tell you that it was the fault of your excessive consumption of caffeine.

You sit on the edge of the bed, and the drops of water flowing from the tips of your hair mix with the perspiration. Since when your room has become this hot ? The summer is coming to an end, you should not be suffocating.

You forget all about the heat when you feel something on your shoulder, but once again, when you turn around, nothing. Maybe you should have listened to Kun when he adviced you, and Ten, not to use a ouija board in the apartment without reading the instructions first. Maybe you called something malicious, and you are going to get possessed ? At least the thought helps you calm your heart pouding in your chest before breaking into a fit of giggle. Crazy.

The front door swings open, and you stop laughing immediately. You hear the sound of shoes swinging against the drawer and get up from the bed. You do not have time to go to the door because it opens on Ten, he is breathless. "I'm going to die. It's too hot !" he yells, before falling on the bed. Sweat made his blonde hair stick to his forehead, and you resist the temptation to pull them back. "I think the aircon is broken." you mumble while Ten nods.

"I tried to turn it on this morning, but nothing, so I went to the neighbords and they are having trouble with theirs too. I think it's the end Y/n." you roll your eyes, biting your lower lip. "By the way, did you bring someone back last night ?" he asks, sitting up on his elbows.

"What ? Of course not!" one of the rules of the roommates is not to bring anyone home without telling the other so that they can find someone to keep them for the night. "Eh, don't like, I heard you talking with someone." you shake your head, you didin't bring anyone back last night.. well not that you remember. "Maybe I was on the phone ?" the question is not for Ten, but for you. Because now that you think about it, you have no memories of the day before.

You came home from work, yes, but the rest ? You do not know. You went to bed, since you woke up in your sheets and in pajamas, but nothing else. "Are you okay ?" Ten asks in a worried voice, and you nod. "Yeah, I think I'm just tired from work." Ten doesn't look convinced, but there is nothing more he can do. "Yeah, well, you should take is slow. Have some rest."

Finally, Ten gets up from the bad and walks out of the bedroom. You take the opportunity to put on light clothes. You could've just stayed naked, but that is not possible with Ten in the apartment. You do not need to go to work today, and with the heat, you don't plan on going out, so you lie in bed, your eyes on the ceiling. You need some explanation about yesterday, about your dream, and the bite mark on your neck, but for now, you also need some rest.

"You know, if you want to see me, you just have to say my name, it's not that hard." the voice is back, and you feel an unpleasant chill going down your spine. You sit up in bed and notices that is is now dark, you must have slept for several hours. You are alone in the room, and yet, the voice sounded so close, as if the man was lying next to you. "Who is here ?" you ask in a trembling voice.

You do not expect any answer, that's why when a small laugh echoes in the room, you stop moving. "You should know that." the voice responds, and you wonder if you aren't just sleeping and having a vivid dream since they seem to be more and more frequent lately. "I've been following you for a while." the voice resumes calmly, and you blink.

"Haven't you ever had the feeling of being watched, of being followed wherever you go ?" you nod. "It's me. It's always been me. I'm always with you. It's my job after all." his work ? You are lost, and he seems to feel it as he picks up. "Say my name, and you'll understand, everything will me so much easier, I promise."

You frown, but why is he so insistent ? You do not even know his damn name. "Are you there because of the ouija board ?" you ask in a small voice, and the laughter that escapes from the void gives you goosebumps. "The ouija board ? My angel, this is only material, you can't call anything through a simple wooden board, especially not me." you suddenly feel stupid for asking the question, but you had to know.

"Your name.." you whisper. "how am I supposed to know it ?" you feel the mattress dips under an invisible weight and you culd up on yourself. "I've told you my name, so many times, but you don't listen. I'll make you remember it this time." you feel a warm breath on your face, and a pression against your lips. But before you can react, the ghostly touch slides down your neck, and the pain is the same as in her previous dream when he bit you. Except this time, it's not pleasure that you feel, but real pain.

"Open your eyes, and you'll have the answer you're looking for." at these words, a sharp pain makes you open your mouth, wide, as if one had just plunged your arm in boiling water. You try to scream but no sound comes out, the pain is too much, you are already losing all of your senses, you can feel your limbs going numb, and once again, the darkness sunrrounds you.

When you open your eyes, you are in bed, and the room is still illuminated by the sun through the curtains. You look at your alarm clock, and notice that you have barely dozed off ten minutes. You rub your eyes, your eyelids are heavy, you have the impression of waking up from a very long nap. It takes a good minute for you to come back to your senses, and when you turn your head, your gaze stops on a mark on your arm.

Not a mark. A name.

A name is like engraved in your flesh on several centimeters. You hiss when you run your fingers over the wounds, it's perfectly healed and yet so painful. You read the name a few times but do not dare to say it out loud, you are afraid of the consequences. You pull yourself out of bed with difficulty and leave the room. You have no choice, you can't keep it to yourself any longer, you need to talk about it, and Ten will have no choice but to listen to you.

You find him in the leaving room, lying on the floor, fanning himself with an old magazine. "Ten.." your voice must be shaky because Ten immediately straightens up, and he stands up when he sees you holding your arm. His first thought is that you fell out of bed and broke your arm, but when he cotices the lines of your skin, he stops. "What is that ?" you shrug, and when he approches, you whine for him not to touch.

"Jae.." you shake your head vigorously; "Don't say it, please." you are ready to beg for him to remain silent, but he shuts his mouth before you have the chance to do so. He takes your free hand and directs you to the sofa when you sit. He takes a seat on the coffee table opposite and looks at the name over and over again. "It's weird." Ten looks calm, unlike you. You are clearly panicking. You heart is hammering in your chest, and soon, you can feel the tears runinng down your cheeks. You didn't even know you were on the verge of crying until now.

"Hey, don't cry, it's fine." Ten whispers, cupping your face in his hands so his eyes meet yours. He reads nothing but confusion and fear. "What's wrong with me Ten ?" your voice breaks his heart, so low and quavering. "Seems to be your.. your guardian ?" you tilt your head, urgning Ten to continue. "Our guardian angel. They manifest themselves when they feel that we need help. But they are here long before, they are always near us to be sure that they can help us even is we cannot see or feel them. Saying their name is the only way to make them appear, but- but it's never like that."

He's talking about the mark on your arm, you know it. Ten had a visit from his guardian angel when he was barely 15, because he needed it, and he doesn't have any irreversible marks on his skin, and he's not traumatized by the experience, unlike you. "Guardian angels aren't meant to hurt you, it's quite the opposite." the more he talks, the more you feel lost. Why you ? What avec you done in your previous life to receive such treatment ? "Maybe there was a mistake, and you got a demon instead of an angel." Ten is kidding, but that simple thought could answer so many of your questions.

"But- but what if it was true ? What is if it was a demon ?" you ask, and Ten shakes his head. "If it was a possibility, don't you think we would know ?" you don't want to think about the possilibities of why you've never heard of this kind of thing, so you sigh, lowering your head. "Until we know more, don't say the name, and try to clear your mind of all this, okay ?" You nod, it's not like you have any other choice.

The following days are alike for you, except for the growing sensation of being watched and followed wherever you go. You try somehow not to look at your arm, but it's difficult. It's like a magnet. After the fifth day, you walk through the apartment door with a long sigh, it's been a long day. Ten is absent, he warned you that he would spend the evening with some of his childhood friends. Perfect.

You put your things in the bedroom, and you walk to the living room to settle on the sofa. You turn on the television, not to watch it, but to have some backgroun noises, and you look at your arm. What's the worst that could happen ? You shrug, and take a deep breath. "Jaehyun." you whisper, and when you see that nothing is happening, you speak in a louder voice. "Jaehyun."

The television turns off, and the lights flicker around you. You grab a pillow, as if it would help protect yourself in the event of a sudden attack from the stranger. "Jaehyun." you repeat one last time, and a shape begins to materialize in front of the sofa. The man's face is the last to appear, and yes, that's the face you've seen so much in your dreams. He watches you curiously, his head tilted to the side. He doesn't seem to believe that you can finally see him, that you finally called his name.

"You did it, you said my name." he says in a voice that's more softer that what you were expecting and walk over. If the sofa wasn't glued to the wall, you would've gone over it to escape. But when he sees your reaction, he throws both hands in the hair. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to do anything to you." his voice is meant to be comforting, and you get up from the sofa to observe him, not without letting go of your trusty cushion.

"You said if I said your name, I would understand everything. Explain yourself, because I feel like I'm going crazy." Jaehyun feels the weakness in your voice, and he blames himself for it, but he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't stay away from you any longer. Being near you is a vital need for the demon. "Calm down, I'll tell you everything." he sits down on the armchair, his legs crossed like a child. With a nod of his heads, he bids you to take a seat, and you obey.

"I must warn you immediately that I don't have the answer you are looking for. I don't know why you were assigned to a demon, and not an angel." if you had knows that you wouldn't get the answer to the question you deem the most important, you wouldn't have called his name. But you'll listen to him, and you'll see if you can send him back eventually. "All I know is that I've been following you for a very long time, and that I would never hurt you."

The demon has a soft voice, but that doesn't stop you from not believing those words. "You tried to kill me the other day, in my dream." Jaehyun shakes his head, a thin smile on his face. Speaking of his face, you notice that he is very handsome with pretty dimples making him look almost childish. He looks like an angel. "It's not what you think, you had to wake up, and you had to say my name." He gets up, and walks over to you. "I promise you, that will never happen in real life. You are under my protection, and nothing will ever happen to you. "

He was right, nothing happened to you.

When you say nothing happened to you, nothing happened to you at all. Your life was already not very exciting, so with the arrival of the young demon, it became even worse. The boys who dare to approch you are quickly sent away because of Jaehyun who does not seem to appreciate their presence around you. Even Ten doesn't spend as much time with you as he used to, and it hurts.

"Why are you ignoring me ?" you ask, dropping down on the sofa next to Ten who doesn't take his eyes off his phone. He shrugs, and you frown. "Tell me, what did I do wrong ? I miss you." you whisper, and Ten sighs before putting down his phone. Well, hetting his attention is a success, now the conversation. "It's your little dog. He follows you everywhere, it's impossible to have a moment with you without him showing up and threatening to smash my knees."

You shake your head. "What are you talking about ? Jaehyun has never threatened to smash your knees, he is not threatening anyone, he just want to make sure I'm safe." Ten's laughter is cold, and extremely sarcastic. "Please, this is not protection, this is unhealthy possessiveness." Ten sits cross-legged and watches you. "Jaehyun does everything in his power to keep people away from you, Y/n, including me, yet god knows I wouldn ever hurt you."

At the simple mention of his name, the demon appears in the living room. Ten jolts, and winces at the burning smell that seems to follow Jaehyun everywhere he does, but you are used to it. Jaehyun frown as he walks over to the sofa where he looks at the two of you. Seeing you together created something very unpleasant in his chest. Jealousy, yes, that's it. "What is going on ?" he asks, and you are always surprised to hear how much his tone of voice changes when he is not talking to you. From soft and soothing, his voice becomes cold and as sharp as a knife.

"Nothing, nothing is going on !" Ten growns as he gets up from the sofa. He could confront the demon about his behavior, but he doesn't want to do it in front of you. So he walks around him, looking at him with utter disgust, and he locks himself in his room, slamming the door on the way. "Did I do something wrong ?" Jaehyun asks, sitting down next to you, his head tilted. He looks innocent, but he is not, he's so far from being innocent. Even though you've never seen him hurt anyone, you know he's done it before, and can do it at any moment.

Yes, you learned to appreciate Jaehyun, but that doesn't stop you from knowing deep down that demons are up to no good most of the time.

"Ten told me you threatened to harm him." you say, and Jaehyun tenses up, but only for a second before he regains his composure. "What ? But why would I do something like this ! He doesn't like me, he's just looking for a reason to get rid of me." he mumbles, and you do not answer.

"What are you doing ?" Jaehyun's voice startle you, you didn't expect to see him in the bathroom doorway, watching you. "What are you doing here ? Shouldn't you be taking a bath in hell or something ?" Jaehyun is used to that kind of little mean jokes, especially when you are tired, so he choose to not respond. "Are you going out ? Where are we going ?" he asks with the excitement of a child, and you turn to him, shaking your head.

"I'm going out. You stay here." You explain, but it doesn't suit Jaehyun whose expression turns sour. "No, no, I'm coming with you. I can't leave you alone." you sigh. "The goal of a guardian is to give advice, to be sure that we are making the right decisions, not to follow up wherever we go." you mumble. It is not right that Jaehyun is everywhere with you. He has to protect you, yes, you understand tha part, but it's getting too much, he is invasible and you are suffocating.

"I'm not like other guardians." he growls, and you fold your arms accross your chest, looking at the demon's reflection in the mirror. You are too tired to argue. "I'm not asking for you opinion, Jaehyun you stay here while I go out. I don't need to have you glued to my ass."

You will later learn that you should never have said that.

Jaehyun was absent for the following days.

No matter how much you called his name over and over, he never answered. Even the feeling of being followed and watched stopped, and for a moment, you wondered if you had scared the demon away. And you got used to your new daily life very well. You shouldn't have.

Earlier in the evening, you were persuaded by Ten to joing him at a party organized by several of his co-workers to celebrate his promotion. Normally you would've stayed home to red, but tonight, you wanted to have fun. And it is for this reason that you currently find yourself pressed against the wall of a room of which you don't know the owner, kissing a boy of who you are not sure to have understood the name. Joe ? John ? Johnny ? You do not know, you couldn't hear it with the hubbub of the guests and the music.

You close your eyes when you feel the boy's hands slip under your t-shirt. His fingers are cold, which contrasts with your burning skin. "Coming was a great idea." he whispers close to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver softly. His lips slide down your neck for warm, and wet kisses, and you take the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and remode the button that holds his hean in place. With your foot, you slide it down until it falls loose around his ankles, so yuo can have access to the obvious tent in his briefs.

You stroke his cock through the fabric, and you smile as he tenses, his breath hitching against your throat. Your mouth open with a loud moan when you feel Johnny's teeth dig nto the skin between your neck and shoulder. The pain is extremely pleasant, and you press harder against his dick. "You are so hot." you smile, and play with the waistband of his brieds, snapping it against the skin of his hip. "So I've been told."

Soon, Johnny's lips are back on yours, and you can taste the alcohol he drank earlier, and he you had been drinking more than you had smoked, you would find it nice, but for now, the mix is pretty disgusting. Johnny breaks the kiss to catch his breath, and you looks into his eyes as you slowly pulls down his underwear. You frown when he opens his eyes wide, and before you can move, he is thrown back and slumped against the opposite wall.

"What the fuck!" you whisper when your gaze lands on Jaehyun. His eyes have nothing beautiful anymore, they are dark and frightening, like in your dreams. His breathing his heavy and rapid, he is enraged, you call feel it in the tense atmosphere of the room. "Jaehyun, what have you done !" you say when you finally come out of your torpor. As if he had just noticed your presence, Jaehyun turns to you and.. and he smiles. "I'm protecting you, my love."

"He was not hurting me !" you walk around the demon to join Johnny whose eyes are closed. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, you can see the blood streaming down his forehead. "Hey, hey, can you hear me ?" you asks. You are about to put your hand on him to shake him when Jaehyun grabs your wrist to force you on your feet. "He was going to hurt you, I felt it!" he says.

You try to extricate yourself from his grip, but he's much stronger. He pulls you against his chest, the heat emanating from his skin is strong, and he puts an arm around your waist to make you you do not move. "You can't trust them, Y/n, I'm the only one who'll never hurt you." His lips are close to yours, and like his body, his breath his hot.

Love ? You didn't know that a demon was capable of feeling anything like love. And why you ? What do you have more than other humans ? "Do you remember what I told you in your dream ?" He asks and you tilt your head, trying to remember. "I told you that I would show you wonders that humans can only dream of. And I will, but for that, you have to stay with me. You have to trust me."

You bite the inside of your cheek. Jaehyun is the dream boy. And when he behaves like a random human, you forget everything. But it is not an average boy you have in front of you, no, it's a demon, and yet..

"Is it true ?" you ask, and he frowns. "Do you really love me ?" he nods. "I love you, more than anyone will ever be able to love you." when he feels your fingers on his face, he smiles so fondly that he looks like a real angel. After all, demons are angels too, they just chose to follow a different god, you think.

"What are we going to do ?" you ask, glancing down at Johnny's limp body and Jaehyun sighs, annoyed at being cut off during such an intimate moment he's been waiting for. "I'll take care of it, you should go home." finally, he releases his hold on your waist, and you take a step back. You retrive your jacket that Johnny had thrown on the bed on entering the room, and you turn one last time when you open the door.

Jaehyun is hunched over Johnny's body, and if you weren't so confused by the whole situation and inebriated, you could swear you saw a red glow shine in the demon's eyes. You shake your head, and leave, closing the door behind you. In the hallway, you meet a guest who is about to open the bedroom door. "If I were you, I wouldn't go in there. Someone threw up, it's not pretty." the person, a boy with long blond hair growls and turns around. "Fuck, I saw no one in the fucking bedrooms."

You find Ten in the crowd, glass in hand, so you make you way to your roommate. You put a hand on his shoulder and lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going home." he nods, before answering. "You want me to come with you ?" you refuse, explaining that it was his evening, he should take advantage of it and have fun. You promise to send him a message when you get home, and with that, you leave the house.

You take a deep breath when you step outside. The air is cold, and rain is starting to fall, just what you needed to cool your burning skin. You look at Ten's car parked in the driveway, and sigh when you realize you'll have to walk.

It is while walking in a dark alley of the city that you begin to regret the sensation of being watched from afar that Jaehyun gives you, because even if you have never admitted it, you feel safe. But now, you can't feel a thing, and you keep looking over your shoulder to make sure you are not being followed. But it must be your lucky day, because you arrive in front of your apartment in one piece, without having had any altercation with a drunk person.

The partment is empty, and silent.

You walk to the bedroom, and get rid of your wet clothes that smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. You pull on a hoodie you find on the back of your office chair, and sit on the edge of your bed. All alone with your thoughts, you force yourself not to think of Johnny, and his inert body. You don't even know if he was still alive when you left, and what will Jaehyun do ? Is he going to call an ambulance ? Pass it off as an alcohol-related accident ?

You start to shake, your eyes filling with tears, you shouldn't have left, you should have helped Johnny. A sob escapes your lips, and it is at this precise moment that you feel a touch on your hands which are placed on your thighs. The contact is warm, and though you are still alone, you know it's Jaehyun. It's always Jaehyun.

"Jaehyun ?" you ask in a small voice, and you expect him to appear, but the touch on your hands disappears. After several unanswered attempts, you give up and slip under the blanket. You fall asleep in a few minutes, lulled by the sounds of the traffic outside.

You open your eyes when you hear movement near you. A form is watching over you next to the bed. "Jaehyun". you whisper, and feel a warm hand on your cheek. "You came back." your voice is full of sleep, and you push yourself on the side to make room for the demon. You have never invited him to bed, so he hesitates for a moment before lying down next to you. You lay your head on Jaehyun's chest. Is it because of the fatigue ? Alcohol ? Or the heat he gives off ? You don't know. You apprently lose the power of knowledge when the demon is around.

You feel the demon tighten, so you put a hand on his stomach. "I thought you weren't coming back, like the last few days." Jaehyun has to bend down to hear your voice, it's so low, and when he understands, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry I didn't come back." you shrug looking up at him. "I missed you, that's all."

The demon chuckles, and runs his thumb over your lower lip. "Pretty mouth tells dirty lies." he whispers, and you shake your head, sitting up. "You do not believe me ?" his lack of response is sufficient for you to understand.

You do something you never thought you would do, you kiss him softly. But the contact is quickly broken by Jaehyun who watches you in the half-light, incredulous. "Why did you do that ?" you sigh, you don't know yourself, but you still open your mouth. "You love me, right ? More than anyone can ever love me ?" when he nods, you kiss him once more, and he responds this time. If at the beginning the kiss was slow and gentle, it become a little more passionate, more feverish.

"Come on, you need to sleep, you've had a hell of a day." Jaehyun whispers against your lips, and you sigh. You lie down appropriately, and Jaehyun pulls you to his chest. It's strange to hear a heart beat in the chest of a demon, but you close your eyes. Yes, you had an exhausting day.

After this evening, the relationship between you and your demon changed considerably. If before you did everything possible to get rid of him, now you no longer seem capable to go a minute without him near you. Whether it's by being there, or just a reassuring presence. And Jaehyun is delighted. That's what he always wanted, to be there for you, and with you as much as he wants. For the first time since he first saw you, he no longer feels that nasty pressure in his chest when he sees you getting close to a boy, or when he can't be with you. He feels light, and free.

This morning, when he wakes up, he feels a weight on his hips. He opens his eyes groaning at the bright light in the room, but when his gaze lands on you, he smiles. He puts his hands on your waist, and you lean in to kiss him. Jaehyun wonders how you always tastes sweet, but he is not complaining, it's enjoyable, and addicting. Everything is addicting when it comes to you.

"What did I do to deserve such a sweet treat ?" he asks after breaking the kiss, and he chuckles softly when you case his lips with a pout. "You have to answer my question first if you want another treat." Jaehyun's hands slide under your sleeping shirt, and you shiver slightly. "Can you still manipulate my dreams ?" the demon remains silent for a while, but his smile is worth a thousand words. "Why, did you dream of something special ?" he asks, and you bite your bottom lip.

You lean down, nestling your face in the crook of his neck. He smells like sleep, and you. "I dreamed that you made me scream your name. That you kept telling me that I was yours, and that you would do everything in you power to stay close to me."

Jaehyun nods every now and then, and his smile growns. It's almost carnivorous the way he smiles. "That's exactly what I would do, if I could manipulate your dreams, of course." he answers, and you sit up. "Oh, so you didn't ?" he shakes his head, and you roll your eyes. You know he is lying, so you intend to make him pay. It is extremely unpleasant and frustrating to wake up from a wet dream. You buck your hips, and the demon groans weakly.

He opens his eyes, and you can see lust growing in that dark and frightening void. "If you haven't manipulated my dream, maybe you should show me if you are able to do that in real life." he smirks, and flip you onto the bed of hover over you. You laugh softly, pressing your hand to your mouth, it's too early to wake up Ten. "That's what we're not going to do." Jaehyun whispers, grabbing your wrist to pull it off your mouth. "I want to hear you. I want to hear every sound you make, my love."

He places a tender kiss on your lips, and he slides his lips down your neck. He repeatedly bites the skin of your collarbone, and then your throat. He loves your throat for some reason. Your hands rest in Jaehyun's hair, and when he looks up to ask permission to remove the t-shirt he's been playing with the hem of, you nod. The piece of tissue ends up on the floor. He kisses your chest, and he slowly moves down to your stomach, never lifting his lips from your hot skin.

He lowers the waistband of your pants, and he kisses your hips, he's soft, so far from what you have been expecting. You squirm with each of his kisses, and you feel so wet, it's embarrassing. "Can I ?" he asks, and you nod vigorously. He laughs at your eagerness, and he pulls down your pants and panties and the same time. They join your shirt on the floor. You suddenly feel very shy, and all you want is to curl up. Jaehyun myst feel the change in your behavior because he looks up.

"Do you want us to stop ?" you shake your head, and urge him to come back up, which he does immediately. When he kisses you, you circle his waist with your legs, your hands already working to remove his pants. He's already half hard, and you lick his lips. You could make this last for hours, but you really need to have him inside of you as soon as possible. Hell foreplay.

"You are so perfect." he whispers, and you slide your hand over his cock. You use the precum that has built up on the tip to stroke it slowly. Jaehyun lets his head fall in the crook of your neck, and his hot breath hits against your shivering skin. You're already sweating, and so is Jaehyun, yet you haven't done anything. You continue the movements of your hand until he is completely hard, following one of the veins with the tip of your index, and it is the turn of the demon's hand to find itself between your thighs. You bite Jaehyun's lips as his fingers spread your folds to collect the slick on the pad of his fingers.

For a moment -much too short- he plays with your clit with the tips of his fingers, and soon one of them is rubbing against your hole. Slowly, far too gently, he eases his first finger inside, and you moan weakly. "Come on, please .." you whisper, you do not know what you're asking for, but your brain is already turning into mush. It's Jaehyun's fault, his warmth, his scent, his hands, everything. He adds a second finger, then moves slowly back and forth, watching for any of your reactions.

When he crooks his fingers, and he reaches that little bundle of nerves that makes you roll your eyes and moan his name, he adds a third finger, and he speeds up, his thumb on your clit. "Stop stop, it's enough." you mumble, and Jaehyun withdraws his fingers. You whine at the feeling of emptiness, but is soon replaced by the head of Jaehyun's cock. He spits into his hand to lubricate his cock before returning to his original position. He puts his hands on either side of your face, caging you. And slowly, very slowly, he eases himself inside.

"You are so tight." you close your eyes, arching your back off the bed when he bottoms out you feel the bones of his hips flush against your ass, and you refrain from not whining to make him move. You spent the past few weeks blatantly ignoring Jaehyun, and now you are acting like you're going to die if he doesn't fuck you within a minute. "Move, please."

Jaehyun pulls out until only the head is still inside, and he snaps his hips. "Oh fuck." he growls. His voice is deep, and sultry, and it makes your head spin. You wrap your arms around his neck, and pulls his face to yours for a long kiss, it's only teeth and tongue but you don't care. The pace of his thrusts is fast, and you grip Jaehyun's hair between your fingers. He moans lowly at the pain, and it's a sound you don't think you can get enough of.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun ..” you mewl when he snaps his hips a little harder. You let your legs drop from around his waist, and you already feel that familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. You want to reach your climax as much as you want this moment to last forever. You grip his biceps, and when he gives a rather deep thrust, you dig your nails into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. Black blood.

Jaehyun curses under his breath, and you close your eyes. You who didn't want to wake Ten up know it was a waste of time, between your moans, Jaehyun's growls and the bed banging against the wall. Poor guy, he might give you a piece of his mind later, but you don't have time to think about it, too busy getting lost in pleasure. His rhythm is erratic, he must be close to his orgasm too.

"Are you going to cum for me, my princess?" he asks, and you nod. Jaehyun bites the skin of your neck, once more, and that's enough to make you black out. You see nothing, and hears nothing more than the beating of your heart and Jaehyun saying over and over that you are his, and only his. "I will never let anyone approach or hurt you. Mine."

When you regain consciousness Jaehyun is still inside you, but his movements are slow, coming down from his high. Your thighs are shaking, and you are sticky with sweat. Jaehyun lies on top of you, being careful not to crush you with his weight, and you run your hands on his back to stroke his burning skin. "It was good, so good." you whisper and he nods.

You remain silent, both far too busy coming back on earth after a mindblowing orgasm.

"I hate you !" the voice comes from the next room, Ten's. And you look at each other before laughing softly. Jaehyun comes out, and you scrunch your nose up at the feeling of emptiness, and at the sticky cum sliding down your thighs. "I'm tired." you mumble in a sleepy voice. You do not know what Jaehyun does next, all you know is that when you open your eyes a little later, Jaehyun is behind you, your legs are tangled, and his breathing is regular. You go back to sleep peacefully after that.

"You fucked a demon."

This is not what you expected when you left your room this morning. Your legs are numb, and your neck is painful from Jaehyun's many bites. Ten is on the couch, his laptop poised precariously in his lap. "I fucked a demon." you repeat, sitting down next to him.

"I didn't think you could fall so low." he says with a sigh, and you turn your gaze to Ten with a frown. You have had one-night stands with various kind of students students, and he never had the nerve to make that kind of comment. It's strange coming from Ten, but after all he's right, he's a demon, not just some stupid college student who sells drugs to pay for his porn's subscriptions.

"Oh, don't be like that Ten." you sigh, and he shrugs, refocusing on his computer. After a minute or two, you nudge him to get his attention. "Have you heard from Johnny?" you ask, suddenly curious about the condition of the poor boy who was unlucky enough to run into Jaehyun.

"Johnny? Why? Did you see him somewhere?" Ten puts his computer on the coffee table, and he turns to you. He's not making fun of you, he's serious when he talks. "What do you mean ?" you ask, trying to control the tremors in your voice. "No one has seen Johnny since the party."

The news hits you like a slap in the face, you thought he would be on his feet with a few missing memories, not that he would be actually missing. You get up from the couch, and without a word for Ten, you head for the bedroom. Jaehyun is still sleeping, so you pick up a pillow and swings it over him.

"Jaehyun, wake up!" it takes him several minutes to open his eyes, frowning. After a night like the one you had just spent, he expected a sweet awakening, and a few kisses, not being hit with a pillow. "What? What's going on?" you cross your arms against your chest. "Johnny. What have you done to Johnny? No one's seen him since..since the party!"

Jaehyun sits up, resting his back against the headboard. He rubs his eyes, and he takes his sweet time waking up before opening his mouth. "I did the right thing." if he thinks you are going to be satisfied with that answer, he is wrong. "The right thing? The right thing was to call an ambulance, not make him disappear! Where is he?" your voice is more urgent but you have to be silent so as not to attract Ten's attention.

"Why are you so interested in that?" he asks in a cold, sharp voice. He gets up from the bed with a smooth and graceful movement, and he walks towards you until you are locked between his body and the wall. "Do you like him? Is that why?" you shake your head, avoiding his threatening gaze. "Don't say such things! I don't like him, I just want to know why you did that!"

A low growl is heard, and if you could, you would try to become one with the wall. You squeak when Jaehyun's fingers rest around your throat. He takes a step forward, and he's so close that you can feel his breath against your lips. "You're mine, Y/n, I did what it took to keep him from coming back. And I would do it again. Again, and again. Until you figure out you don't need nobody. You only need me, do you understand me correctly? "

You grab his wrist as his grip tightens around your throat. You are already starting to feel the burning in your lungs from the lack of oxygen. "Jaehyun .. please I didn't mean to hurt you." your voice is weak, and so trembling that you wonder if he understood a single word of what you just said. "Mine." he growls before loosening his hold on your throat. You slide down the wall, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. You takes a long and difficult breath, it's extremely painful.

When you look up, Jaehyun is gone.

You feel stupid. You feel so silly for thinking that Jaehyun really loved you, and that you too could love him back. But you were wrong. It's not love Jaehyun has for you, it's an awful obsession. He doesn't show you what true love is, he manipulates you every day. And he knows how to do it, since you fell into his arms so easily after he ... after he killed Johnny.

Now that you have taken a step back, you realise that you should have been more vigilant, that you should have stayed with Johnny, and called someone yourself. You don't know what suddenly happened for you to give yourself to Jaehyun. Maybe that would have kept your life from turning into hell.

Jaehyun has made it his personal mission to make your life hell on earth.

He's always there, behind you, watching you rear, making sure no one is approaching you. When someone dares to approach you, you find yourself with blood on your clothes, and a corpse at your feet. Sad to say, but after a while you are no longer surprised. You no longer have nightmares, since nothing can be worse than your life.

Today is no different.

You woke up in Jaehyun's arms, feeling like you chest was crushed in a vise. Feeling his breath against the back of your neck is a sensation that you can't stand anymore. His hands give you chills when you thinks of all the blood they have shed. His smile is no longer angelic. And his laugh? You hear it everywhere you go. You can't do that anymore.

Lucky for you, Ten is the only person he hasn't touched yet. But for how long ? Ten is also the only person who can keep you grounded. Whenever he sees you falling back into your bad habit of letting yourself be bewitched by Jaehyun's sweet words, he is there to slap some sense into you, to remind you that you are better than that. If Ten wasn't there, you do not know where you would be.

When Jaehyun's grip on your waist loosens, you take the opportunity to slip out of bed. You take the clothes you had prepared the day before and leave the room. In the bathroom, you take a shower to get rid of the invisible dirt you feel every time Jaehyun puts his hands on you. You get dressed, and you find Ten in the kitchen. He's drinking a cup of coffee, and when he sees your face, he hands you his cup. You need it more than him.

"Are you sure ?" he asks, and you nod. Yes, you are sure, you have no other choice. "You can count on me." you walk up to Ten and places a kiss on his cheek, then turns on your heels. You put on your shoes, and after taking a long breath, you leave the apartment. You're not working today, otherwise you should have been planning this for another day.

When Jaehyun wakes up, he is surprised to be alone. The place next to him is cold, which means that you were long gone. He stands up, and he leaves the room. He searches the apartment, but all he finds is Ten and the disapproving look on his face. "Where is she ?" he asks and Ten shrugs. "She said she had to see a co-worker." that's enough to put Jaehyun in pure rage. Ten swallows hard as Jaehyun disappears, leaving behind that sickening smell of burning that he cannot get rid of. This is time for him to do something.

Doyoung is already waiting in front of the cafe when you arrive, and he smiles when he sees you. You approache, and you accept the hug he offers you. He's noticed that you haven't been yourself lately, and while he doesn't know the real reason behind this change in behavior, he's ready to help. Poor thing.

"You look tired." he says, and you sigh. You could cry, and fall into Doyoung's arms if you wanted to, but you can't, not now. "I am. Do you mind if we have coffee at my place? Ten is at work." he nods, of course he doesn't mind. You take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers. This feeling is now foreign to you who are used to the constant heat of Jaehyun's body, so feeling Doyoung's cold fingers is like comfort to you. Normality still exists.

The walk to the apartment is short. You make conversation with Doyoung who is completely oblivious to what is happening. You feel it. You feel Jaehyun behind you. You feel the holes he drills in your back with his gaze. You could even hear his heartbeat if you wanted to, heart ready to come out of his chest.

"After you." he says, like a gentleman, when you open the front door of the apartment. The apartment is empty, as you thought. Kind of. You walk towards the living room after letting go of Doyoung's hand, and you instantly miss the contact. You crave normal physical contact from a human being, it's crazy. "You want some coffee ?" he nods.

You walk to the kitchen, your hands resting on the edge of the counter, and you breathe slowly. You are ready to throw up, you are so nervous. Immediately, you find yourself leaning forward on the counter, one hand resting on you head to keep you from moving. "What do you think you're doing?" you've never heard Jaehyun be so threatening, yet he has been in the recent weeks. It's the last straw for him.

"I'm not doing anything Jaehyun, please let me go." the countertop tile is cold against your cheek, but it helps you keep your head in check. "You're really trying to make me angry! You haven't understood yet that you don't need anyone but me. I'm sure it's Ten, I should have gotten rid of him a long time ago. He's the one keeping you away from me." he releases the pressure on your head, and he walks to the living room.

When Doyoung's gaze lands on Jaehyun, he frowns. He certainly didn't expect the boy to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up to him. "She's mine." the rest is a mix of screams and blood splashing on the walls. You watch the scene, and you don't move. You cry, you can't help it, and a sob escapes your lips when Doyoung's gaze meets yours one last time. "I'm sorry." you articulate. You had no other choice.

Jaehyun drops Doyoung's limp body, and he turns to you. He is about to take a step forward when he finds himself blocked by an invisible force field. "What is happening ?" he growls. He tries to move, but he is unable to come out of this small circle protected by something that is drawing a lot of energy from him.

"It's the only solution, Jaehyun." you murmur, voice broken by another sob. You look at the ground, and Jaehyun follows your gaze. He was so angry that he hadn't noticed the absence of the coffee table in the living room, and the white chalk drawing on the dark wood floor. A pentacle was drawn there by Ten when you went out to retrieve your victim. "Why why !" he screams, and you take a step back.

You know he can't reach you, you spent hours researching it, the best way to trap a demon, and yet you can't help but feel your organs tighten with fear. "I can't do this anymore, Jaehyun." Jaehyun punches his fists against the invisible force field, and the more he does so, the redder his eyes turn. If you get close, you're sure you could see the flames of the underworld reflecting.

"I love you, Y/n! I love you more than .." he starts, but you cut him off. "Yes, more than anyone will ever be able to love me. But that's not love, Jaehyun." you can't describe the anger you reads on the demon's face. "I've killed for you baby, who else could say that?" he's using a nickname you liked for a while, but that only reinforces your decision. "Killing for me wasn't the best way to prove me your love."

"I killed an angel for you! I killed an angel to be with you!" you open your eyes wide to his words. "You- you killed my guardian angel." he nods, a proud expression on his demonic face. So everything that happened was not because of a mistake, but because Jaehyun wanted to be with you. Because he needed to be near you. "You are a monster."

This is the obvious. Jaehyun laughs and you feel your blood boiling inside of you. "Ten, you can come, it's okay." The apartment was not really empty, Ten was hiding in his room waiting for the signal. He stops in front of Jaehyun, and he can't help but smile when he sees that the demon can't reach him. "Oh, the poor little demon can't do anything, that's too bad." you roll your eyes, of course Ten was going to tease him.

It is your turn to approach the pentacle on the ground, and Jaehyun. Despite all the anger in his eyes, you can also see how much love he has for you. And you know that no one can ever love you as much as he does, that's right. But you don't mind, you don't need love like that. You need pure love that will never hurt you. If you can ever trust someone after that.

"You know, for a while, I really thought I could love you, Jaehyun." you explain in a tender voice. "But you're nothing but a monster, you don't deserve to be loved. And you don't deserve to love. At least here you won't hurt anyone anymore." you look at the demon whose face break into something you can't explain, an expression you had never seen on him. It looks like..understanding, pain, and mixed with that natural anger. It's the last time you'll ever see this face, and deep down, it hurts, but it's for the better. You leave the living room.

Ten is in front of the door, with the suitcases you packed the day before. You are ready to start a new life, far from here, far from Jaehyun and the blood he shed in this city of doom. You open the door, and you and Ten walk out of the apartment. The last thing you hear before the elevator door closes are Jaehyun's screams. He is begging for release, begging for forgiveness, promises he can never keep.

"It's you and me against the world, once again." Ten says, and he takes you hand. Yes, it's just the two of you now. You, and a trapped demon.

Trapped, but for how long ?

#nct #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #the tags better work istg

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harrysgloves · 4 years

Text

Three’s Company (part 2)

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

>>>PART ONE<<<

Story Summary: You deal with your breakup.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language // Angst // Pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic // oh and you know smut!! YEAH bet you didn’t think you were getting makeup sex but oh you are. (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks)

Authors Note: I got carried away... but don’t we all when it comes to them? Anyways, feedback is always wanted and deeply loved. Hope you you guys like it!! xx

>>>

"Is this color too moody?" You asked your neighbors cat that was lounging in your living room.

The midnight black ball of fur lazily blinked open his eyes long enough to croak out a "meow" before going back to sleep. Your head nodded in agreement as your 5th beer bottle of the day pressed against your lips.

"No, you're right. It's allowed to be moody." You agreed with the very large, very old, cat who always wandered over to your apartment. His owner, Ms. Thompson, gladly let you babysit him for a few days after she came to your door to find him the first night. Your blood shot, tear filled eyes when you answered the door, fully gave away the fact you'd been crying for the last few hours.

A bowl of Tupperware with hot chicken noodle soup laid on your doorstep the next morning along with the first gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

It had been four days since your break up with Harry and Florence. Four days of sleepless nights, alcohol filled days, and meaningless activities to keep your mind off how you were feeling.

Four vases of flowers that you couldn't bring yourself to throw away sat on your cluttered counter. The delicate petals were starting to turn brown around the edges from your lack of care. The notes on each one seemed to glare at you everytime you walked to your fridge to grab another drink.

Each one a variation of, "I'm so sorry. -H"

"When we broke up it was for totally different reasons. I wanted to raise the kids Jewish; you wanted to sleep with men." Debra Messings' voice and the horrible laugh track of 'Will and Grace' filled your lonely apartment. Your comfort show played on repeat. The same jokes, the same voices, the same fucking void in your heart.

It'd be four days and you felt like you were a second away from losing mind.

And sure, maybe, you could have called them. You could have said you overreacted and that you messed up so badly. Instant regret hit you as soon as you had walked out his door.

You'd get over it, get over them but it didn't seem to be as easy as you originally thought.

Everything reminded you of them.

"Love this one." Harry said the last time he'd spend the night with you. Your favorite record played softly in the background when he placed the needle down on it.

"Oh, this is one of my favorite episodes!" Flor cheered as she ran out of your kitchen to the living room at the sound of a 'Friends' episode starting.

"Got yeh this when I was out today." Harry handed you a dumb pen holder. A small Julius Caesar that had pens jetting out of his back.

"Take this before you freeze." Florence mumbled as she moved your blanket slightly off Harry and towards you while you all cuddled in your bed.

Everything that reminded you of them had been boxed off, separated, put away somewhere else until you could look at it again. You were left in an almost barren house that no longer felt like a home, with a cat, that wasn't even yours, sleeping on your coffee table that was littered with empty beer bottles. All while you drunkenly painted your walls at 2 in the afternoon.

How did shit get this bad?

The sound of a knock at your door called you out of your mind. An instant sinking feeling started in your chest as you walked across the floor. The wave of alcohol that ran through your system calmed some of the nerves but not all of them.

They wouldn't show up here, right?

You could feel the sweat starting on your hand as it rested on the doorknob. Another knock came from the other side of the door made you jump in your skin.

"You haven't answered your phone in four days! Open up!" One of your brothers yelled from the hallway as his fist pounded on your door. You rolled your eyes as you stood there debating if you could avoid him. Your plan to stay as quiet as possible quickly went to shit.

"Y/N, do not make me call dad." Your other brother, the one who's slightly fucking scary, voice boomed through your door like it wasn't even there.

You threw your door open to the absolute shit show that was your family. All four dumbass brothers stood outside of your apartment door. All four let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before walking into your very messy apartment.

"Jesus." Jason, the youngest, breathed out when the smell of alcohol hit him right in the face. His nose scrunched as his worried eyes flashed over the room.

"Did you drink an entire liquor store?" Tommy, the one you were closest to, asked as he scanned the damage done to your living room and what the hell you'd been doing to your liver the last four days.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you sat down on the floor, the couch was deemed unusable by you until further notice. Way, way, too many memories on that dumb thing.

Raphael's lips pursed as he studied the new living room color. He didn't even bother to hide the fact he was judging your meltdown as he turned to you.

You two were the closest in age. You were only 6 months older, and were both adopted at the same time. It definitely didn't make getting along as children necessarily easy. The both of you butted heads so much the other 3 acted more like referees than siblings. Which is why the room seemed to shift dramatically as he turned to you.

"So, you stonewall your way out of a relationship and then ignore everyone who checks on you?"

"Here we fucking go." Jack, the middle child and probably the most sensible brother groaned as he sat down cross-legged on the floor. His head rested in his hand as he stroked Marshmallow's black fur.

"Hey! We said we weren't going to bring you if you started a fight." Tommy snapped right before Jason interrupted.

"He has a point, Tomás."

"Like you haven't had your heartbroken."

"She's the one in the wrong!"

"No she isn't!"

"You can't defend her forever. She has to own up to her shit."

You groaned, your head laid back as you listened to them argue about you, right in front of you.

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with this.

"Get out." You said as you stood from your place on the floor, all eyes darted to you as you demanded for your own space.

"Wait, what?" Tommy asked as the rest of them looked at you like you had magically grown three heads.

"I said, get out. I'm not listening to this. You guys want to fight, go to dad's." You opened your front door, held it wide open for all of them to filter out. Each one gave a sad or sympathetic smile as they left.

"Y/N, I think you should really give them anoth-" Jack tried to reason with you before you shut the front door, hard. The slam echoed through your now quiet apartment as you stood there yet again, alone.

>>>

Your hooded eyes stared at the same spot on your ceiling. Your back rested on the cold hardwood floor of your wrecked living room. Your head swam with a fuzziness that only happens when you spend too many days on a bender.

You were fucked and your heart, your soul, hurt in a way you didn't think was possible.

You could feel the prick of tears starting again in your eyes as your mind ran over everything. The good times, the bad, the moment you wished you could take back.

Why did you leave that damn house? You could have at least let him explain.

You sighed as you sat up. The uncomfortable feeling of the room spinning only got worse as you shifted forward to grab the drink you'd poured earlier. The glass pressed against your dried out lips as the same laugh reel ran in the background.

Was this your life now? You wondered as you sat on that cold floor of your apartment. You used to be okay with nights like these. You used to be fine being alone.

Now, the silence felt like a stab to the gut.

Your phone that laid on the table vibrated non-stop. The worried texts of people who loved you flooded your phone, you were worried about you too but you couldn't admit it.

Why did this hurt so bad?

Was it because you'd never experienced a loss like this before?

Or was it because deep down, shut away in the corner of your mind you dared to never go to, you knew exactly how you felt about them? And it scared the shit out of you.

You gulped down the rest of your drink. Not wanting to begin the vicious cycle of why you were so quick to give up on them. Why you were so determined to leave before any explanation could be given.

Fucking hell, you needed therapy.

Your shaky legs walked over to the TV, turning off the reruns. Your glass placed on the edge of your coffee table as you made your way to your bathroom. A hot shower would always fix everything.

The stream of warm water pounded against your back as you sat in your bathtub. Your mind fluttered around the idea of taking a job that required you to permanently leave the country for a while. Maybe you could fall in love with a nice coast side in Italy or a small Cafe in France.

You didn't notice the sound of your front door opening or the footsteps in your apartment. Your eyes were already so heavy. The steam of the shower only made the low lullaby of sleeper louder in your mind.

Sleep and everything will be better.

>>>

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The bright sun burned your eyes as you blinked away the foggy feeling of sleep that still lingered around you. Your brain felt like a pile of mush as you reached for the bottle of water you kept on your side table.

How did you even get to bed?

The last few days had blurred together into a muddy picture. Everything jumbled together; drinks, painting, TV, organizing your kitchen, looking at apartments in foreign countries online.

"Morning!" Your brother chirped happily as he walked into your room.

You could have literally jumped out of your skin. You screamed, loudly, almost falling out of the bed.

"What the fuck!"

"I came back last night and you were asleep in the shower!" He said like you were the dumb one. "A thank you would be nice."

"Why are you in my apartment?" You asked, but only received the blankest of stares back. You knew why he was here. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad. Obviously, you need to hear it 'cause your apartment smells like a bar and you haven't talked to anyone in almost a week." He shrugged as he sat on the edge of your bed. The black ball of fur you'd eventually have to give back to your neighbor wasn't far behind him. Small black paws circled around you before he found a place to sleep comfortably.

"This sucks." You mumbled after a bit of silence. You could tell Jack didn't want to push you. Usually, this was a thing Tommy would handle but for some reason, the tribe had sacrificed Jack to be the emotional voice of reason this time.

"You know," he said as his hand ran through Marshmallow's fur. His teeth bit the inside of his lip as he debated what to say for a second before continuing. "you could just admit you were in the wrong and go apologize. I mean, you clearly fucking regret it."

"I don't." You answered so quickly even Marshmallow didn't believe you. His green eyes stared in lazy disbelief. "I mean I do but… I don't know, Jack. It's weird 'cause I'm so sad but… what if this never gets better? What if it's always like this? Like, we're always struggling to be a normal couple?"

"You're not a normal couple so why would you try to act like one?"

Your eyes shot to his at the words that poured out of his mouth so carefully. You'd never thought of it that way before. Your brows furrowed as you stared back at the bed.

Was there a chance for you to make this work with them?

"Look, Y/N, relationships are fucking hard no matter what but you can't just… walk out on people before they get a chance to hurt you."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's kind of your thing, you know?" He smiled softly to you. Not condescending or in a know it all way, in the way only a sibling could without getting smacked. "Not that it doesn't make sense but if they made you happy, maybe you should try to hear their side of it."

"When did you become the smart brother?" You teased with that wide smile across your face.

"Right after I came out of the closet."

"Shut up." You said through a laugh. The first one you'd had in days. That weight that laid on your chest seemed to have lifted a small amount.

Maybe, just maybe, you could talk this through with them.

>>>

You stood on the same doorstep you angrily stormed across not even a week ago. The pink door that you used to love, suddenly felt like a door to the electric chair.

Maybe you couldn't do this.

You sighed, your eyes darting back to the old Camero you loved just a little too much. Arms crossed over your chest to keep you warm as you stood in your place. You knew you couldn't go back to your apartment this quickly without getting asked questions.

Raphael, Jack, Tomás, and Jason were all waiting for your post-breakup meltdown if this didn't go well. Each one said they'd stay with you on rotation shifts until you felt better if you needed it.

Which was sweet, but you kind of wanted to rot in silence and alcohol if this went as badly as you thought it was going to.

Your tongue grew thick as your stomach churned. Your eyes closed as you sighed heavily, your ass plopped down on his front steps, head rested in your hands.

You didn't know where to even start when it came to talking to them. Your feelings were hurt but you shouldn't have walked out without giving them a chance to explain. You didn't want to feel like the odd man out but didn't want to broadcast your relationship.

The whole thing was messy and complicated. You wished so hard that it'd be easy. That talking about what you felt would be easy.

But you knew it wasn't, it never was, at least not for you. You shoved all your emotions down and kept chugging along your whole life. You pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. Which was exactly what ended you up here in the first place.

If you would have told them sooner they would have ended the PR shit.

"Hi." The thick accent from behind you startled your thoughts for a second but you didn't turn around. Your fingers messed with the edge of the rip in your jeans as your eyes focused on the crack in his sidewalk.

"Hi." You said quietly after what felt like a full minute of silence. You heard him let out a small sigh, his feet shuffled forward until he sat down quietly beside you.

You tried to not look at him, knowing if you did you'd burst out into tears. So you stayed focused on the ground, the dead leaves that floated along the road, the grass that was getting crunchy from the cold weather.

"Y/N, 'M-" he started but you waved your hand to get him to stop. Your head rested against his shoulder that tensed up from your touch.

You didn't want to talk for a second, just a second. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cologne he always wore was faint on his skin. The sleep shirt he wore was your favorite, you realized. The blue sweatshirt always made his eyes look so beautiful.

"I missed you." You said into his shoulder. Your lips brushed against the soft fabric as you spoke.

"'M missed yeh too." His voice cracked as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. His fingers laced through yours as you moved closer into the warmth of him. "Flor's inside if y'wanna talk."

You sighed, you knew you needed to talk, knew you had to talk about it. You just didn't want to. The feel of him being close to you again, the intoxicating smell of him near.

Your head lifted from his sweatshirt, only to see how rough he'd been doing himself the last few days. His bloodshot green eyes had large bags under them. His scruff on his face, messy brown curls. He'd done just as bad as you.

You only caught sight of his lips for a second before saying fuck it. Talking could happen later, you'd missed him so much.

Your lips pressed against his with a force that knocked him backwards for a second but you didn't care. No, this was the most "at home" you'd felt in days.

He felt like home.

His lips molded to yours so perfectly, once he got a hold of himself. His hand slipped to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as your lips parted, welcoming him back.

He pulled you up with him. His hands around your waist, lips still connected with yours as he walked the pair of you inside.

You wished you could slow down the moment. The way he was holding you tightly to him, like he never wanted to let you go again. The fleeting feelings ran through your mind but they all ended the same way.

You fucking loved him, so much.

All your energy was going into not crying from your surge of emotions. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, your shaky hands danced in the messy tangle of his unkempt brown curls as you tried to hold onto that shred of sanity you had left.

"I missed you." You breathed out when you came up for air. His forehead pressed against yours, his body crowded yours to the wall. "God, I fucking missed you."

He chuckled, a slight smile on his now swollen lips but you couldn't help it. It was the only thing your brain could come up with besides how sorry you were for not giving him a chance to explain.

"Miss me any?" Her voice made you look around Harry. Her arms crossed over her chest but that hint of a smile smoothed across her lips as she leaned on the doorway that led to the entry.

"Wanna see how much I missed you both?"

>>>

Maybe this wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with your problems as a couple. But at this moment you could have cared less what a therapist would say about your tendency to avoid things that were important.

You laid on your back, your legs wide open, toes digging into the mattress as Florence's tongue pressed a wide thick lick through your folds. Circling around your bundle of nerves before slipping into you.

You would have moaned out loud, if it wasn't for the dick rammed down your throat. Your head laid off the side of the bed, your vision upside down as Harry's pulsating member slid down your open and waiting mouth. His hand around your neck, squeezing himself.

"Missed fuckin' yeh throat, pup." He groaned out as his hips snapped against your spit soaked face. He backed out long enough for you to catch your breath before shoving his way back in. Your abused throat would hate you for this in the morning but right now you didn't care.

"Feel good, baby?" Flor asked as her finger curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that always made your eyes roll back. She didn't have to ask if it felt good, she knew it did, she just wanted the bragging rights of who gave you the better orgasm of the night.

Harry's member pulled out of your throat. You tried your best to catch your breath as he crouched down to your level. His hands doing the best they could to wipe away all the saliva that ran down your cheeks. Playful green eyes met yours.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked even though he really didn't need to. The sound of your moans alone was enough to tell you were close.

"Mhm." Was all you managed to get out, your hands threaded through Florence hair as her mouth joined her fingers. Your eyes closed as you got closer to your high, your skin raised in goosebumps as she did that fucking flicking, swirl, of her tongue that always did you in.

"Good, 'm gonna make you cum harder than that." Harry's words faded in your mind as that crashing sensation washed you away.

Florence scoffed as her head lifted from between your legs. The back of her hand wiped your juices away as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

"Good fucking luck trying to top that one."

"Guys," you groaned, your hand over your eyes. "Supposed to be makeup sex, not a competition."

"Can be both." Harry mumbled under his breath, quietly, but you still caught it. Your eyes glared at him as you turned around on the bed.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you reached forward, your hands around his neck as you brought him up to your level. Your mouth enveloped his quickly to stop the argument.

You pulled him onto the bed with you two. His knees hitting the edge before climbing up the rest of the way as your tongue took control of this kiss. It didn't happen often but when it did you ran with the opportunity. His mouth following your lead until you pulled away slightly, your teeth catching his bottom lip softly causing him to moan.

"Fuck," he cursed as you pulled away that sweet smile on your face like you didn't know that he loved that.

Florence came behind the pair of you, her lips pressed against your shoulder, up your neck, small love bites left here and there before she took the chance to kiss you when Harry pulled away. Her hands pulled on your waist, tugging you down to the bed to lay on your back.

"Ready?" She asked as Harry stroked himself, the nod of your head was all he needed to hoist your legs up. His pulsing tip ran through your folds as you reached for Florence, your arms wrapped around her thighs as you pulled her down on your mouth.

Harry continued to tease your opening. His tip slipping in and out of you easily as your tongue ran rapid through Florence's pussy. Her wetness was almost to the point of dripping down your face. You groaned as you pulled her by her thighs down harder onto you as your tongue circled into her hole. Fuck, you missed her taste.

You heard the sounds of their kissing, her moans, before he finally pushed his way into you. Your walls clinging around him immediately, pulling him closer into you, making him hiss lowly.

"Jesus, she always so fuckin' tight." His hands embedded themselves into your thighs as he held you open for him. His fingers pulled back the lips of your pussy briefly before you felt Florence shift forward, her core off your mouth as her tongue circled your clit.

Your loud, unabashed moans filled the room. Your mind clouded with nothing but desire and lust, barely functioning at all. Thoughts weren't making sense, you were going based on instinct when your fingers slipped into her cunt that was inches in front of your face.

Harry's grunt and groans as he fucked into your tight cave halted for a moment, his erection pulled out of you briefly. The unmistakable sounds of your girlfriend choking on your boyfriends cock filled the room.

You moaned at the sound, your core clenched as your fingers finally twisted into the right angle. Her velvet walls pulled you in as she tried her best to keep breathing around Harry's thick member.

"Fuck, keep doing that." He panted, accent thick, voice deep with pleasure as you hit that spot in her again. A flood of her arousal coated your fingers as she let out another loud moan, her body slacked on top of you as Harry pulled out of her throat.

You weren't prepared for when he thrusted himself back into you. Your moan cracked as you gripped tightly onto Florence's thighs.

"Told yeh I was gonna make you cum harder." He mumbled as Florence let out a laugh. She rolled over to lay beside you, her lips lazily kissing yours the best they could through Harry's rough thrusts into you.

"Make her cum harder than I did and you can cuddle her tonight." Florence smirked, her hands ran over your hair as you pouted.

"Deal."

"Hey! I wanted to cuddle both of you." Your head shot off the bed as you glared at the both of them, who were both very very clearly taking their competition too far.

Leave them alone for four days and you come back to them acting like children.

"Tomorrow night, sweetheart. I got somethin' prove." Harry smiled as he leaned down to you, his lips capturing yours before you could protest, a roll of his hips had you moaning.

Maybe this bet wasn't that bad.

"Yeah, proving I'm better." Florence scoffed again, adding fuel to the fire as her hand leisurely traveled between her legs. A soft moan passed through her lips as Harry basically growled at her through his teeth.

You rolled your eyes at her as she gave you a shrug and a smile. His length pulled out of you again as he lifted you up, switching you over to be on top of him.

He was pushed back into you in less than a second, his hands grasping the round flesh of your ass tightly as he leaned you forward into his chest. His legs pushed himself upwards, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

You were thankful he pulled you into his chest. Your moans rolled easily as his hands dug deeper into your skin, you were teetering on the edge with in minutes. His gruff groans as his sensitive pulsating member pushed into you only added fuel to the fire.

"Come 'ere, baby." He said as he slowed down his punishing pace his hand left your bum, fingers slipped into Florence's mouth for only a few seconds before finding their way back to you.

The pressure from his finger prodding into your back hole had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The deep, low, sound that resonated in the bottom of your chest had a smug grin on Harry's face.

He knew he'd won.

His finger and along with his cock fucked into you until you could hardly register your own name. You could feel your heart beating in your core, your nipples so sensitive you could barely stand to have them brush against his own chest.

Harry hummed as you seemed to lose yourself in the feeling of your mounting high. Florence's hand between her legs, stroking herself faster as her lips pressed to Harry's.

You felt a pressure in your stomach you'd never felt before, building and building, ready to bust any second. You didn't even have time to warn him when you felt the dam release. Your head floated in the clouds as your juices ran down him, soaking the bed.

"Well, fuck, I've never made her do that." Florence mumbled after Harry's final thrust into you. His gloating laugh filled the room as you laid limp.

"Told yeh so." He cooed as his hand ran down your back in soothing circles. Florence kissed softly on your shoulder, your arm, wherever until your eyes finally focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked as she brushed away the hair that was stuck to your face.

"Mhm, wanna sleep." You whined, your head pressed into Harry's shoulder tightly as you felt him soften inside of you. Your hips shifted to move off him but his hand quickly pressed your ass down again.

"Go to sleep, darlin'." He kissed the top of your head before he nuzzled into your. Florence arm wrapped around the both of you as Harry opened one arm for her to cuddle into his side.

>>>

"Mornin', sweetheart." Harry hummed as he rounded the corner to his kitchen. A quick kiss placed on Florence's lips before he picked up the cup of tea she already had made for him.

"Morning." She mumbled into her cup. Her legs pulled up beside her as she sat on the counter.

"Wot's wrong?" He paused before taking a sip, his eyes studying her as she sighed.

"It's just…" she stared at the coffee pot that hadn't been used in a week. The steaming brown liquid dripped into the vessel below it. She sighed, shaking her head. "I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was make sure she didn't leave again."

Harry's eyes softened, his hand ran through her hair, lips pressed to her forehead. Trying his best to comfort her which is what he tried, and usually failed, at doing all week long.

"We'll talk to her, okay?"

Flor nodded her head, her lips pressed to his one last time as they heard the door to the bedroom creak open. A shirt you'd taken out of Harry's closet hit your knees as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Morning." You said as you gave both of them a kiss, your eyes more trained to the pot of delicious coffee than either one of their faces.

"Y/N?" Florence asked as you poured your first cup, the smell wafting into your senses had your knees almost buckling.

"Yeah, baby?" You asked without turning around. The glass pressed to your swollen lips from all of last nights kissing, the warm mug felt like a relief to them.

"Can, uhm," she started, you finally turned around to see her looking uncomfortable. Her tongue wet her lips, eyes glanced to Harry before she continued. "can we talk, you know… about everything now?"

"Right, yeah of course, we should… just-" You could feel the nerves pit in your stomach growing as you nodded towards the table. The three of you sat in your usual chairs, your usual mugs in your hands, but it wasn't an usual morning.

No, now you actually had to talk about what was bothering you.

"Right." Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started with already but the room was dead silent.

"Right." You repeated mostly to fill the awkward silence that was growing thicker in the room by the second. You could feel your ears rushing, the room was so quiet. No TV to drown out the weird atmosphere, no music to cover up the fact you had to talk about what happened.

"So, I guess 'm gonna start." Harry said after he glanced at the both of you two, seeing he was going to have to get the ball rolling on this whole thing.

"Yeh know 'm really, really, sorry 'bout the Gemma stuff. I was gonna tell her the next week after the last interview but she decided to come in early and surprise me." Your lips rolled in your mouth as you listened to him. You knew the whole time you sat in your apartment, drunk, that a version of this was what happened. "And I didn't want yeh to get hurt and 'm so sorry it seemed like I was hiding yeh away from people."

You could feel the start of tears in your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from a blubbering meltdown that was about to happen. Which you might have been able to avoid if his hand didn't wrap itself around yours from across the table.

"Just," you sighed, your hand squeezed his as you tried to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek. "Just, I should have said it was bothering me before it got to that point and I'm sorry I didn't and I blew up then walked out."

"It's okay." Florence said softly, her other hand laced through your free one. "But… maybe, we should agree to talk about stuff a bit more."

"Yeah, think that would probably be good." Harry agreed as he scooted forward in his chair, his hand wiped away the rest of your tears. "So, yeh gonna stay, right?"

You smiled up to him, your hand laced tighter through Florence's fingers as you nodded your head.

Yeah, you think you'd stay with them.

432 notes · View notes

justimajin · 4 years

Text

Whac-A-Headstone

Pairing: Game Owner Jungkook x Employee Reader

Genre: Fluff & Humour

↳ (10k) BTS Village AU

Summary: Working at the arcade can be downright miserable and it doesn't help that your boss isn't, well, the brightest lightbulb in the world. Add to this his extremely dramatic and prideful ways, you're left wondering why you even choose to work at the place anymore. You fortunately receive the answer in the form of Richman V one day, who has been eyeing your boss's pride and joy for quite some time.

Warnings: pg13 rating, some major spoilers for BTS Run ep. 120-121 (watch them before reading this), everyone in this fic literally has no chill (WHAT!?)

A pair of two small feet come to a stop.

Across from the road are multiple posters and signs, from large cardboard cutouts to cliche and cheesy slogans scribbled on paper. There’s a string of colourful lights hanging from above, ranging from a neon yellow to a dark blue. It’s extremely noisy, but the boy’s feet tread closer, round eyes enamoured from the over the top appearance.

The door is cautiously pushed open, the sound of his feet slowly shuffling against rough carpet echoing.

The boy’s eyes widen, peering around in puzzlement.

The shop appears nowhere near what its display offers. The walls are painted with a hue of dull beige, and there’s no intriguing lights with huge signs compelling him forward. Instead, there’s a large bookcase that he barely acknowledges, alongside a set of bright machines that remind him of its exterior.

As if in a trance, his attention is drawn away instantly and he doesn’t hesitate to stumble across one of the machines, eagerly eyeing it down. After struggling to sit on one of the high stools, an innocent smile spreads across his lips once he eyes the multiple colourful controls within his reach. He presses a button in curiosity, but the screen in front of him doesn’t change.

His smile drops into a pout, and he attempts again, only to be met with the same result. He then presses multiple buttons, frustration only building up at the blank screen.

A shadow lurks behind him.

“Hey kid.” He jolts, spinning around instantly. “You have to pay to play games here.”

The boy stares like he can’t comprehend those words, his eyes big and naive. You cross your arms, a scowl lining your lips and expression void of any amusement.

His shoulders deflate and the corners of his mouth downturn with disappointment. You continue to stare at him, gaze not wavering.

A long exasperated sigh leaves your lips and your eyes quickly survey the empty arcade around you. Taking a step forward, you rummage through the pockets of your uniform pants and out emerges a shining coin that has the boy’s eyes lighting up.

The coin slots into the machine and you turn around to face him, features still impassive.

“You owe me for this one.” You mumble underneath your breath, but he simply retaliates with a gigantic smile on his face.

The game immediately turns on as the boy begins playing, eyes eagerly sweeping across the bright screen as his fingers hurriedly tap against the multiple buttons. You watch from afar, the corner of your mouth lifting into an amused half-smile.

The sound of loud footsteps echos through the walls.

An annoyed exhale leaves your lips and it isn’t long before the back door is being ripped open, a young man emerging within seconds. You’re unfortunately painfully aware of who he is and it’s probably high time to clarify who you exactly work for.

Jeon Jungkook ‒ or simply your boss, if you actually took the liberty to address him as one ‒ is the person in charge of your employment. You’ve been working for him longer than you imagine and as you eye him from the corner of your eye, you can only contemplate how you’ve managed to even stick around for so long.

He pushes the big glasses on the rim of his nose back with his fingers, his eyes wide and practically boiling with vigor. He’s dressed in his usual attire, a button up shirt with a subdued green print on it and tight fitted black trousers. There’s a jarring amount of gel in his hair that only seems to increase with time and if anything, he looks more like some kind of mafia boss running an organization rather than the owner of an arcade.

His gaze is targeted on you, barely acknowledging the child that was excitedly playing one of his games and who is now staring between the two of you with wide eyes. You presume the boy is having the same thoughts running through his head that everyone has when they meet Jungkook, and it could be summed up with simply calling him a‒

“Y/N!” He abruptly yells, a muscle in his eye already twitching, “I heard one of the machines being turned on?!”

A nutcase.

You work for an absolute nutcase.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how arcades work, you know? The machine has to be on for you to play an‒”

“You know what I mean!” Jungkook snaps, waving off your sarcasm.

“Oh.” You say, pointing towards the boy, “The kid wanted to play a game, so he paid for it and now he’s playing it.”

“Actually…” The boy suddenly speaks up, voice quiet and hesitant, “The nice lady paid so I could play.”

His eyes sparkle, like he holds you in high regard. Although he warmly smiles acknowledging your kind deed, your eye twitches and you mentally make a note to never to help out a child in your lifetime ever again.

Turning around, your eyes meet Jungkook’s and he’s fuming.

You internally sigh, already aware of what’s to come.

“Y/N, how could you do such a thing?!” He dramatically says, pressing a hand against his temples, “To take away from the money I could have had….just how? How?!”

“I was bored.” You honestly retort, unfazed in the slightest as you shrug, “And our only customer was a kid, besides‒”

You raise an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook, “Are you losing money or something? Why are you so worried about one kid that I paid for?” A spark resides in your eyes, “Is the business shutting down?”

Jungkook gasps, like you’ve offended his whole entire being. “What?! NO!” He shakes his head, “H-How could you even suggest something like that?!”

He leans against one of the machines, tightly wrapping his arms around it. You roll your eyes, watching him have a semi-crisis over the fact that you suggested his business is going down the drain.

“I’ll never give my business up!” He yells it out like it’s a statement he wants even the neighbors to hear.

“Yeah, yeah, sure thing, boss.” You retort as you slide over an extra lollipop to the kid that you were saving for later. He beams at you and you smile, but then Jungkook complains you aren’t listening to him enough and you let out a sigh, turning around to coax him.

***

After playing a couple of rounds on the machine before it shuts down, the boy bids you both a goodbye and sincere thank you. You tell him not to forget to bring some coins next time with a mumble and his eyes light up, followed by a very cute nod.

Closing the door behind him as he leaves, you spin around with a lengthy sigh. Digging into the pockets of your uniform, you yank out your phone and begin to scroll through the contents with tired eyes. The entire store is empty, save for you and the supposed boss of yours that you presume is lurking around somewhere.

The sound of a loud ding startles you, phone nearly slipping onto the ground. Your eyes are wide and on alert, sweeping around the vacant room.

“Aha! TAKE THIS!” There’s a loud thud that echoes through the room, and your eyes instantly narrow. You tuck away your phone, shuffling your hands in your pockets and nonchalantly walking towards the source of the sound.

Although puzzlement strikes you first, it quickly morphs into amusement as you reach the doorframe. Jungkook stands before the whac-a-mole machine, practically slamming the hammer against the poor plastic mole pieces in an effort to increase his score.

Which is nearing a hundred and fifty by the way, the highest score one can achieve in the game.

Your brows knit together as he keeps striking the popping moles, only for the machine to brightly light up seconds later with large digital letters saying WINNER in red across the board.

“I DID IT!” He suddenly shouts, spinning around and spotting you instantly, “Y/N, I beat my own record!”

You cross your arms, “Congrats.”

There’s a spark of smugness in his expression as he crosses his arms, cockly staring at you, “Looks like my score is officially unbeatable now.”

Although you know it’s practically bait that he’s throwing out, your lips move faster than you can register.

“It’s still beatable.” His irises light up in an instant and you want to curse at yourself for falling into the trap, but the look of challenge in his eyes is enough to spark your own fuel, “I can beat it.”

“Oh, really?” Jungkook questions, offering up the hammer, “Let’s see you try.”

You grab it from his hold without hesitation, gesture for him to turn on the machine. It lights up within seconds and with a deep breath, you brace yourself as much as possible.

The moles pop up within seconds, your eyes darting and flickering all over the platform. The hammer in your hands is soaring, hitting as fast as possible as quickly as possible. At one point, your hands mismatch and you catch an empty one, something that makes Jungkook snort but only increases your competitive streak even more.

Sweat has begun to fester at your temples, but you pay it no mind once the last mole is hit and your eyes are glued to the scoreboard. In giant bulging letters, your score is displayed before you.

5 points away from Jungkook’s score.

You can already hear the cheers of ecstasy leaving his voice, or the daunting smugness leaking from the words that he’s aching to sprout in your direction. But when you turn, there’s this annoying magnified smile plastered onto his face that’s somehow even worse.

You let out a huff and before Jungkook can start running all over the place in excitement like a child, a knock sounds from the door.

You straighten up immediately, raising a brow.

Customers don’t usually knock.

“Were you expecting someone?” You immediately wonder. A groan leaves Jungkook and he mutters underneath his breath, something along the lines of ‘this guy again’.

Dragging himself to the door to answer, your features contort into surprise once it’s yanked open.

A young man stands before you, his arms crossed behind his back and gaze scrutinizing. He’s dressed far too fancy for an arcade, a fine white collared shirt with a black tie and vest that hug his body. His bronze locks are long and perfectly curl at the front, but their rich appearance is muted from his piercing eyes, which at the moment are gawking all around your workplace.

Jungkook is first to speak up, clearly annoyed with the stranger’s prolonged ogling antics.

“Hey!” The stranger immediately turns to him, “Are you going to keep staring at my game room or are you going to say something?”

He stares at Jungkook, completely unfazed and apathetic to his loud exterior. It throws you off for a moment, wondering if there was even someone aside from you that possessed the ability to do so.

His words are sharp and discrete, straight to the point. “I want to buy it.” He tilts to his head slightly to the side, “Have you made up your mind yet?”

Your head snaps in Jungkook’s direction at the inquiry, appallment crossing all over your features. Jungkook looks like he’s ready to explode at any minute, hands balling up into fists.

He mimics the stranger’s tone, gritting the words out, “It’s not for sale.”

“I think there should be enough space to rearrange the front.” The man continues to speak as if he didn’t hear Jungkook, “These will have to be destroyed in order for a counter to be placed.”

He’s examining the machines already, frowning at their appearance and that’s when Jungkook ticks. Pacing forward, he wraps his hand around the stranger’s arm and begins to drag him out, even as he continues to survey the area like a thousand thoughts were running through his mind.

“Okay, now that’s really nice.” Jungkook cheekily says, but you can still hear the lingering anger in his voice, “How about you go redesign the neighbor's place? I hear they have a hairstylist who loves to gossip so it’d be nice for the two of you to chit-chat.”

The posh man looks composed and you’re beginning to question if he was potentially holding onto a facade to not be able to hear Jungkook. It’s not long before he’s politely escorted out the door, with Jungkook practically lunging for the opportunity to shut the door behind him.

He spins around, pressing his back against it as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. You can only stare at him in confusion as silence lingers, eventually breaking it with your own inquiries.

“What just happened?”

Jungkook’s wide eyes snap up, like he had completely forgotten you were in the room with him.

“Oh that,” A strained chuckle leaves him, “He’s been coming around here often, usually in the early mornings when you’re not around.”

He sits down on a chair that’s in front of the cash register, continuing to explain, “That’s Richman V, the guy nearly owns every property here in BTS Village.”

Jungkook continues to meekly laugh, but it only serves to draw out concern from you. “So...what? He wants to buy the arcade?”

“Well, uh,” He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah…”

A deep frown settles on your features as you stare at Jungkook, who’s smile seems to be fading by the moment.

“And like…” You begin, trying to wrap your head around the situation, “What? Are you going to sell it and hand it over or something?”

You’re the one laughing now, staring at him in amusement. Jungkook’s smile is completely gone, his eyes fixated on the ground.

“And what if I just did?”

For a moment, you could have sworn he was joking. But Jungkook’s tone is completely different ‒ voice having dropped a couple of octaves with no hints of humour present.

It only drills in deeper when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a certain glint of anguish residing in there that you haven’t quite seen before.

You struggle to come up with words, “Y-You can’t be serious…”

“And what if I am?” Jungkook rests his hand against his cheek, leaning against the front counter. A sigh leaves him and your brows contort together, lips pressing together into a firm line.

You scoff, “B-But I would be unemployed....”

Jungkook’s gaze is fixated on the counter as he shrugs, “Then just find another job.”

“It wouldn’t be the same!”

His head snaps up, lips falling agape with the sudden outburst. You immediately avert your eyes, letting out an awkward cough.

In the midst of the silence, you ponder again, “Have you made up your mind then...? To sell it?”

“Sort of.” Jungkook mumbles, gaze drifting to the ground, “The game room hasn’t been doing too well financially and even though Richman V is kind of annoying....I’ve been thinking about his offer.”

Your eyes narrow at him.

His tone sounds like he’s already been defeated without a full fight, giving in without any resistance.

The boss you know would have to be physically dragged out of this arcade, his loud protests probably being capable of deafening those that want to take away his prize possession.

“Wait, just like that?” For once, you’re the one that’s more upset, “You love this place.”

His features twist, “Well yeah, but‒”

“This is coming from you, the same person that tried having a disco day at the arcade to attract customers and forced me to wear a rainbow coloured wig with roller skates because ‘it goes with the flow’ and ‘the entire vibe would be ruined’ if i didn’t!”

Jungkook stares at you wide-eyed and you scoff in disbelief, gaze connecting with the bookcase stationed in the corner of the room, “At one point, we even hauled in that giant thing together when you were convinced that the youngsters are ‘reading too much these days’ and that we’ll lose popularity to a hair salon next door that was giving out free magazines in their waiting room!”

“You seem to remember a lot of the things I’ve done....”

“I’m not done!” You wave a finger at him, ignoring his astonished expression and continuing with your rant, “There was even a time when you used me to distribute flyers and made me shout that ‘there’s no place I would want to work at beside Jeon’s arcade’, which by the way, is pretty much the opposite of how I feel!”

Jungkook lets out a snort at that, to which you direct an angry glare in his direction. Your rambles continue as he fondly watches you, somehow managing to spur up a spark of hope that was diminishing by the minute inside him.

“So you’re telling me that the same person that was responsible for all that is willingly going to give up his arcade?” You plant your hands on your waist, raising a challenging eyebrow at him, “Are you sure you’re my boss?”

“You’re right.” Jungkook honestly confesses, “This place means a lot to the both of us and we can’t let it head down under because some posh guy wants to own it.”

He raises up a fist, looking more determined as ever, “I’m not letting anyone take it from me without a fight.”

You cross your arms, a smirk rising on your lips.

“Now that’s the boss I know.”

“Jungkook, this is stupid.” You protest, the icy breeze from outside already nipping at your skin. Your boss spins around on his heels, his determination still overflowing.

“How is having some faith stupid?”

“It’s stupid when you drag me out at 7 in the morning without a coat to make a damn wish.” You bite back, barely able to feel your toes as you walk behind him through the village.

“I don’t feel cold.” He proudly announces.

“You’re shivering.” You point out, his chattering teeth and quivering form already being a dead giveaway thanks to his need in retaining his weird get-up out of the arcade.

“Shivering? That’s nonsense, I don’t feel the c-c-cold.” You let out a sigh, unraveling your scarf in the midst of his protests. Instead of handing it to him, you toss it over his head and he whirls around, frowning at you.

“Take it.” You mumble, not noticing him eventually wrapping it around himself as if it was desperate to retain some heat. You walk ahead of him, halting your steps and glancing around confused.

“So where’s this headstone you’ve been obsessing about?”

Jungkook squints, “It should be somewhere her‒OH!”

You whip around, watching Jungkook jog over to a small landmark at the side of the trail. Treading cautiously after him, you notice a structure made up of granite, appearing like a round ball that was placed on a stick.

You tilt your head, “This is the ARMY headstone?”

“It protects the entire village!” Jungkook chides, “Don’t you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, it protects us and we protect it in return.” You wave away it’s history. Unlike others the stone simply just existed for you, not being as ‘special’ or ‘glorious’ as it was for the other villagers.

“We need to make a wish to save the arcade.” He firmly states, eyeing you for an answer. You let out a sigh, eventually mumbling out the words in the most monotone voice.

“Please save our arcade.” You turn to Jungkook, “There, happy?”

There’s a smug smile on Jungkook’s lips and you scoff, glancing around as he makes his wish. Your eyes roam around the expanses of the village, landing on an individual scurrying around with bright teal hair and dressed in a uniform.

Your eyes instantly light up, “Namjoon!”

He notices you right away, jogging over in an instant.

“Y/N?” He says astonished, “I haven’t seen you around in a while, how have you been?”

“Ah, just the usual.” You shrug, “I’m always at the game room these days.”

A laugh slips from him and you smile, but you don’t notice the gaze Jungkook throws in your direction.

“Find any new auditions recently?”

“Ah no, I’m still trying though.” He professes, “I’ve been saving up in case I actually manage to get one.”

“You’ll find one soon, I’m sure of it.”

Namjoon sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, a dust of pink on his cheeks, “You know...there’s this new movie playing in the theatre….”

He rummages through his pockets, pulling out two tickets. “I’ve heard really good things about it.”

Your eyes spark, reaching out for them, “Oh, that would be so ni‒”

The tickets are instantly snatched away from you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“That does sound lovely!” Jungkook smiles, “Thanks for the tickets RM!”

Namjoon glances between the two of you, “O-Oh…” He meekly laughs, “I-I hope you guys enjoy….”

He takes a step back, waving at you. “Guess I’ll see you around then Y/N....”

You watch his fading back in dismay, barely able to say goodbye to him as he rushes away.

The moment he’s gone, you spin around and glare at Jungkook. “What the hell?! I wanted to go with him!”

“Too late.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, “Now you have me~”

A deep frown settles on your features, “Perfect. Just perfect.” You shake your head, “Not only do I have to see my boss at work, but now I have to go watch a movie with him.”

“I know right?” Jungkook leans forward, “Who is this boss of yours by the way? He sounds like an incredible person.”

“Oh, he’s great ‒ great at being annoying.” You huff as Jungkook laughs at your silly taunt, practically skipping behind you as you return back to the arcade.

In the midst of your banter though, you don’t notice the particular pattern Jungkook’s shoes leave in the soil.

***

Upon returning, you and Jungkook get to work right away.

“What about a slogan?” You suggest, “Something that catches people’s eye and gets stuck in their minds?”

Jungkook places a contemplating finger against his mouth. It’s not long before his fingers are snapping, a bright glint sparking up in his eyes.

“Jeon’s arcade is the best.” His pupils are wide and there’s a giant grin spread on his features, but it clashes with your muted expression.

You raise an eyebrow, “Jeon’s arcade is the best…?”

He snaps his fingers again, shaking his head, “It’s great, I’m telling you. It’ll catch on within days.”

A dreary sigh leaves your lips, “How about something less...prideful?” Your eyes twinkle, “Like come down to Jeon’s arcade for a brand new experience?”

Jungkook scrunches up his nose, “That sounds awful.”

“It’s better than declaring you have the best arcade.” You mumble.

“It is the best arcade!” He pursues his lips, before finally muttering in defeat, “And technically the only one here…”

You’re about to suggest that maybe rearranging things in the game room would help for better promotion, but the lights begin to flicker.

“Wha‒” You’re unable to finish your sentence, the entire room plunging into complete darkness.

“Jungkook?” You question in concern, carefully shuffling your feet around. There’s a slight movement that brushes by your arm, your head spinning instantly.

“I think it’s a power outage.” He confirms, and you can hear the soles of his feet pacing around the room, “Let me see if I can find the backup generator…”

You hear some scrambling and shuffling around, until it’s accompanied by a loud thud and a sharp “ow!”.

“Are you okay?” You ponder, only receiving a dismay groan from him.

“I’m fine, but why is your voice coming from the machines?”

You blink, “Because that’s where I’m standing?”

“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief, “I could have sworn‒”

In an instant, light floods the room. Your eyes are rounded as they finally peer around, noticing Jungkook at the other end of the room with his eyelids screwed shut and holding onto his foot.

His lids flutter open, taken aback with your appearance. A sudden thump resonates against the floorboard.

You and Jungkook can only stare at each other petrified at the sound of feet moving about while both of you remain stationary.

Swallowing down his unease, Jungkook places a finger on his lips, gesturing for you not to let out a peep. He carefully steps forward, keeping the silence in the room intact to peer over at the counter.

A man suddenly pops his head out, a pout resting on his plush lips.

Jungkook staggers back, placing a hand against his racing heart.

“What are you doing here?!”

The man tilts his head to the side, looking down and then dusting himself off. There’s a black beret sitting on his head, a white-collared shirt overlapping with two suspenders that connect to his brown trousers. He continues to pout, eyes glancing around the counter until they stop on a circular object.

“Ah, there it is!” He excitedly whispers, wrapping his fingers around the large magnifying glass. Jungkook’s eye twitches, strutting up and grabbing onto the man’s shoulder.

“Hey! I asked what you’re doing here!”

He frowns, “Are you always this rude to people?”

Jungkook scoffs, but you interject, voice confused.

“Jin?”

His eyes snap up to you, “Oh, hi Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Investigating.” He immediately says, raising his magnifying glass. He begins walking around the room, a curious look to his eyes. “How long have the two of you been here?”

“Since the power went out.” You answer.

“Fascinating.” He continues his stroll, only faltering when Jungkook pulls at one of his suspenders from behind.

He appears annoyed from the former barely acknowledging him. “Why are you in my arcade trying to investigate, Jin?!”

Jin spins around, smacking his instrument against Jungkook’s head.

“Ow!”

“That’s Detective Jin to you, Mister.” He shakes his head in dismay, “Seriously, where have your manners gone, Kook?”

He glances at Jungkook, “And to answer your prior question, there’s been a recent crime in BTS Village. I’m here to solve it.”

“A crime?” You cross your arms, “What makes you think the arcade has anything to do with it?”

“Well, it’s not so much the arcade that has something to do with it…” He suddenly twirls around, pointing his giant magnifying glass at Jungkook who looks baffled, “But someone that might play a hand in the crime.”

You peer over his shoulder, noticing him narrowing in on Jungkook’s eye as the latter stiffens.

A scoff leaves your lips, “You’re drawing an absurd conclusion.”

“Oh really, Y/N?” He spins around, nearly whipping you in the face with the glass, “Perhaps you were at the crime scene too then?”

He begins scrutinizing you, and you uncomfortably shift from the glass being pointed at your eye this time.

Jungkook huffs, straightening up his clothes. “Don’t you use that magnifying glass to see how big your mouth is half the time?”

Jin raises his head, suddenly feeling offended. A snort leaves you, further fueling his dismay.

“Trying to use a personal connection on a detective now, are we?”

Jungkook plants his hands on his hips, “Well, this detective showed up at my arcade out of nowhere and is interrogating the hell out of me and my employee without any proof.”

Jin smiles, “Proof! Of course!”

He moves at the speed of wind, racing around the game room as you and Jungkook hurriedly trail after him. He stops right at the front, a small shoe rack capturing his interest immediately.

He starts tossing them aside one by one.

“Hey, stop!” Jungkook scrambles to catch them before they land on the ground, “Those are expensive!”

“Timberlands?” Jin questions, eyeing one certain beige pair before tossing it away too, “You need better taste, kid.”

Jungkook practically shoots out his arm in efforts to catch it, but it slips from his grasp and you dive forward, grasping onto it instantly.

“This is ridiculous.” You huff, “Jungkook hasn’t done anything, Jin.”

He hums, rising onto his feet. “Is that so, Y/N? Then how about you explain this?”

Whirling around, he points towards the base of one of Jungkook’s slippers, the same ones he hastily put on when he pushed for you to come with him to the headstone.

You narrow your eyes, not grasping onto his dramatic revelation, “It’s a slipper. You know, people use them for their feet…?”

“Not just any slipper!” Jin waves it in the air, far too close to your face as you grimace, “But evidence! Evidence that was at the crime scene during the time of the crime!”

He pulls out a photograph, showing a footprint that matches up to the shoe, “Someone knocked over and broke our precious ARMY headstone and that person is standing right in front of me!”

Jungkook looks as much at a loss of words as you do. You can’t deny that Jin is wrong, the picture in his hands and the slipper looking similar. The problem is you know what events transpired, having been with Jungkook as he pushed you to make a wish before speaking with Namjoon.

There’s no way he could have done anything.

“I-I…” Jungkook begins.

“You did it! Mystery solved.”

“What?” You snap, stalking up to Jin, “This is prosperous, you need more evidence than just a footprint!”

“Oh? Is that denial I hear?” Jin cheekily questions, cupping his ear and leaning closer to you. Your lips settle into a firm line, teeth gritting.

“Not denial, but facts.” You place a hand against Jungkook’s shoulder, “I was with Jungkook when the footprint was made and I know he’s innocent.”

“A counteract argument!” Jin says in excitement, “Fascinating!”

You let out a groan, “Jungkook is innocent, Jin.”

“I am.” He hurriedly says, hoping it would do something to diminish the detective’s accusations. Jin’s eyes sink down, puzzlement crossing his features.

He keenly eyes you, voice no longer childish, “He’s going to be the prime suspect.”

“He’s innocent.” You press forward again, causing the detective to stare at you for a moment before letting out a long exhale.

“Prime suspect.” Jin announces again, pretending to write down on an imaginary clipboard. His voice morphs, spiking up in volume, “I won’t stop until I catch who it is! Even if it’s you!”

The door is yanked open and Jin struts out, closing it on his way. You let out a relieved sigh, pressing a hand against your temples.

Jungkook being a prime suspect means that Jin doesn’t have the power to turn him in and he’s given you some time to figure out things as well.

He hasn’t taken his suspicions away, but at least he’s given you some leeway.

Jungkook’s desperate eyes connect with yours and you know what you have to do.

Your boss is innocent, and you’re going to prove it.

A loud bell dings as the door is shoved open, a huff leaving your lips. The shop is close to being semi-busy, a couple of customers planted down in seats and facing elongated decorated mirrors. Save for a couple of heads that turn in your direction, your eyes rake around.

Your brows are furrowed, a crease forming in between them.

A flash of white whizzes by your sight, your hand instantly snapping out and grabbing onto their collar.

A scream leaves the man’s lips, his eyes wide and petrified. They lock immediately onto yours and within seconds he’s slipping away from your hold, trying to make a run for it.

His voice screeches as he runs around the salon with a pair of scissors, “The culprit is here! The culprit is here!”

The showcase sends his customers into a frenzy, voices spiking up into the mayhem and a handful staring at you in horror.

“Hey, Chatterbox!” You scoff, “Come back here!”

You chase after him as he wails, bumping back and forth into his clients with no regard. You eventually grab a hold of his shoulder, a squeal leaving his mouth.

“NO!!” He cries, “Spare me, please!”

He tussles around within your grasp, “Hoseok!”

Abruptly freezing, he stares at you from behind his giant glasses, “Y-Yes?”

“I need to talk to you.” You profess, noticing the way his scissors are still held up in defense, as if they possessed enough of an ability to scare you away.

The sound of shutter snaps your attention away, your head whipping around to see a particular lens pointed towards you. It’s pulled down, a man with keen cat-like eyes and a resting pout examining its contents.

“Picture of the culprit.” His deep voice hums, seemingly satisfied. You tug away the camera from his hold, still keeping a tight grasp on Hoseok before he flies away from you.

“For ARMY sake‒” You scowl, noticing the apparent ‘frightening’ angle of you in the picture. Shoving it back at him, you hiss, “Delete it now, Yoongi.”

His eyes narrow, clearly not enthusiastic with the suggestion. You glare right back at him, suddenly realizing why you don’t swing by Hoseok’s salon or his photography shop often.

With a sigh, Yoongi deletes it and you let go of Hoseok, crossing your arms.

You hold up a finger, “First off, I’m not the culprit, and neither is Jungkook. Let’s get that straight from the start.” Hoseok opens his mouth like he wants to interrupt, “I’ll take questions at the end.”

He closes his mouth, a ㅅ shape taking over. “Second off, I’m here because I want to know who the true culprit is.” You take a step forward, eyeing Hoseok, “And I think the local gossiper can give me the details I want.”

Hoseok’s eyes are wider than before, his hands fumbling around with his scissors. Although he doesn’t care to admit it, you know the village folk feel extremely comfortable around him, willing to spill out all their secrets and desires with no mind over the naive and tender boy’s head.

Even to the point of professing some oh so good reasoning about a particular headstone.

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, clutching onto his camera, “How do we know you’re not trying to cover up your own tracks from the crime?”

Hoseok’s irises sway from you to him, growing only larger in size. You shake your head with a sigh, aware of the latter’s protectiveness towards his childhood friend.

“Because the crime was committed during a power outage….while me and Jungkook were at the arcade…..”

The truth sounded a lot better in your head. You can see Yoongi’s gears turning, his gaze becoming more and more scrutinizing.

To your surprise, he suddenly clears his throat, taking a step back.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What?” He raises a brow, “Do you want me not to trust you?”

“No.” You deadpan, “I just thought you would ask more questions.”

Yoongi shrugs, “You barely pay any attention to the headstone in the first place. Plus Jungkook isn’t the type to break something he’s been making wishes to since being a kid.”

You blink, astonished with the analysis. Yoongi turns to Hoseok, nodding his head as the latter hesitantly begins to speak up.

“T-There’s a rumour…” He whispers, causing the two of you to lean in, “I-I didn’t mean to spread it! I-I just thought it was interesting and my clients like to hear stories of the village while I-I’m cutting their hair‒”

“What is it, Hoseok?” Yoongi wonders as you hum.

His pupils oscillate on the ground, hands fumbling with his scissors.

“Treasure.” He heaves, glancing up at the two of you, “There’s a rumour of the headstone housing treasure.”

He tilts his head to the right.

The giant magnifying glass in his hand follows the direction, inflating the image of the remains from the headstone by tenfold.

Planting one of his hands on his hips, the other comes forth to stroke his invisible beard. His legs swing, about to turn back to head towards the arcade again.

“Find anything yet?”

A scream escapes him.

Jungkook stands before him, covering his ears as Jin places a hand against his racing heart.

“You frightened me!” Jin scolds, narrowing his eyes, “What are you doing here?!”

Jungkook frowns, “I’m not the culprit.”

“Sure, that’s what they all say!” Jin begins walking down the trail near the headstone as Jungkook closely follows behind.

“So….”

“What?”

“Did you find anything yet?” He questions hopefully, doe eyes twinkling at his elder. The man before him sighs, aiming his glass piece at the trail before him.

He suddenly crouches down, scrutinizing another footprint.

“I’m not telling you anything, Kook.”

“But why!” He practically whines, childishly clinging onto Jin’s arm, “Come on, you’ve known me since I was a kid. Does this look like the face of someone that would break the headstone?”

He gestures to himself as Jin stares, purposely widening his eyes and putting on a pout.

Jin smacks the back of his tool against his head, causing Jungkook to wince. “Stop getting cute with me.”

Jungkook’s eyes sway, “I-I’m not getting cute….”

“Uh-huh.” Jin reminisces, looking around the headstone carefully again. There’s a furrow between his brows as he picks up a chuck of the stone, bringing it up to examine.

“Find anything?”

The stone piece nearly slips from Jin’s fingers as Jungkook peers over his shoulder wide-eyed, appearing more like a naive child than the owner of an arcade.

“Will you stop doing that?!” Jin scolds, growing irritated by the moment with Jungkook’s interventions. The latter pouts, desperation leaking into his irises.

“Then tell me something.” At Jin’s withering gaze, Jungkook pulls out all sorts of cuteness he wouldn’t be caught doing in daylight, “Please.”

Jin rolls his eyes, sight landing right on top of the headstone.

“Blue Village..…”

It’s so incredibly faint, but Jungkook’s ears catch onto it right away.

“What?”

“Blue Village.” Jin says louder this time, his brow twitching. Clearing his throat, he lowers his voice again, “I think someone from Blue Village did it.”

Jungkook’s eyes are instantly enlarging, features contorting into a sudden epiphany.

“Now leave me alone!” Jin says, pushing him away, “I have mysteries to solve!”

Jungkook nods in an instant, a smile curving on his lips at the new piece of information.

It’s not long before you’re pacing towards the arcade, surprised to see Jungkook already there and buzzing with energy. His eyes light up with your presence, lips moving immediately.

“Treasure!”

“Blue Village!”

You stare at each other for a moment, confused with the notion. “Wait, Blue Village? What about them?”

“Jin says that someone from Blue Village might be responsible.” Jungkook explains, scrunching his brows together, “What do you mean by treasure?”

“Hoseok told me that there’s treasure underneath the headstone.” Your eyes sparkle, “That means someone who needs money probably broke it.”

Jungkook grimaces, “Shoot.”

“What?”

“I need money.” He honestly states. Your features twist up with the fact, acknowledging that your tidbit on the situation wouldn’t work well in his favour.

Shaking the thoughts away, you pursue more information, “Who do you think did it?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond to you, instead he stares outside the arcade’s glass exterior. Puzzled, you turn around to see what he’s staring at, only to see a young boy dressed in a yellow shirt and blue overalls walking by.

He appears to be within his own world, a dreamy smile curving up on his cheeks and a colourful lollipop in his hand. His eyes instantly connect with yours, crinkling up into half moons as he waves over to you and Jungkook.

You return his gesture with a smile, but Jungkook had a sneering look in his stare.

“I hate that guy.” He spits out, drawing out perplexment from you.

“What?” You spin around, pointing to the oblivious boy. “Leader Jimin?”

Jungkook hums and you shake your head, watching an angelic smile take over the boy’s features. “How could you possibly hate him?”

Suddenly, something sparks within his eyes. He turns to you, determination spiking his gaze.

“He’s the one that broke the headstone.”

You let out an exhale of dismay, “He didn’t.”

“He’s from Blue Village.” Jungkook says, as if all the clues finally made sense, “No one know where he came from or what his background is. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re starting to make up conclusions like Jin now.”

“He could use the money!” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I heard that he’s been living at the village doctor’s house and pays rent!”

At your look of disbelief, he smirks, “Rent gets expensive, Y/N. Don’t you know that?”

“He’s innocent.” You protest, shaking away his accusations, “He’s a happy person that just wandered into our village one day. He looks like he can’t even hurt a fly!”

At the moment, Jimin lets out a giggle, one of the village kids smiling brightly up at him.

Jungkook narrows his eyes, a hum leaving him.

“Wait, you’re right.”

“See‒?”

Jungkook deadpans, “He’s an idiot.”

“He is not an idiot.” You’re about to list more reasons as to why, but you notice Jimin walking away to ‘lead’ the children behind him, not realizing that one of them has stolen his lollipop and the rest are trying to fight the child for it.

He breaks out in a daze of giggles, happy to be their leader.

Your features scrunch up, “Okay, maybe he is, but‒”

Jungkook smirks like you have no option but to agree with him. Before you have the chance to prove him wrong, there’s a knock outside the arcade door.

A trail of goosebumps spike up on your arm, the look of annoyance on Jungkook’s features telling you enough of who's at the door.

However, this time there’s no intrigue, just a simple big white label possessively planting against the wall.

“I heard you’re not doing so well financially,” Richman V states, “This arcade should be mine soon.”

Jungkook’s jaw drops at the man’s blatant actions, orbs following him around as he continues to plaster his labels all over his precious arcade.

You beat him at the chance to intervene.

“This arcade isn’t yours.” You tug at his sleeve, only for Richman V to spin around and plant a label smack against your forehead.

“Everything I label, I possess.” He interjects, “This arcade will be mine, and so will everything that comes along with it.”

He passes by you and begins sticking on more labels. You huff, ripping off the label and smacking it onto a nearby wall. “I am not going to work for you.”

“Yes, you are.” He states, like it shouldn’t even be in question. “You work in this arcade. The arcade will belong to me. Your services will be mine.” A smile curves on his lips, “You should be happy. I’ll at least be a proficient boss.”

Your eye twitches and Jungkook looks like he wants to interject, but you scramble around, locating a pen.

Taking one of his possessive labels, you scratch out his name and scribble on Jungkook’s before sticking it back onto one of the machines.

“You can’t take this arcade because it doesn’t belong to you.” You huff, grasping his attention. “And I already have a great boss, thank you very much.”

Jungkook blinks wide-eyed as Richman V stares at you, clearly annoyed with your meddling. Turning around, he leans closer, looking at you eye to eye.

“I own every property in BTS Village, and this arcade won’t be an exception.”

Without another word, he leaves, a clutter of his labels all over the walls and machines. Your eyes are sharpened, lips twisted with suppressed fury as you pluck off the flimsy pieces of paper that demand its ownership.

“Who does that guy think he is?” You rant as Jungkook silently watches you, “I mean sure, label all your things. Your toothbrush, your comb, whatever.”

Kneeling down, you narrow your eyes at the one he’s managed to stick behind the counter before tearing it off, “But a place he doesn’t even own? Talk about really wanting to possess stuff.”

“Did you mean it…”

Jungkook’s voice is soft, near quiet.

You turn around, bafflement crossing you. “Well yeah, he seems like kind of a jerk and wanting to possess an arcade after all he has seems like a petty list of things a person would want to own‒”

Jungkook shakes his head, stopping your ramble. “Before that. About me being a great boss….”

You stare at him like a deer in headlights, clearly caught off guard. Freezing in place, you open and close your mouth a couple of times, no words managing to come out.

Instead, a pink hue dusts over your skin.

“Well, I...I-I did say that…” You attempt to begin, “And I...well‒”

“Fascinating.”

Your eyes snap up at the sound of a third voice, noticing Jin leaning behind the counter as he listens into your conversation. Jungkook immediately swivels around, placing a hand against his racing heart.

“Can you call or something the next time you show up?!’ He angrily retorts, only for Jin to completely ignore him and step forward.

He walks straight towards the shoe rack, plucking up the pair of slippers Jungkook wore to the headstone. He drops them with a hum, walking over to the counter again to flip through some paper sheets, something that has Jungkook scrambling forward.

“Why are you looking at my accounts?!”

“It all makes sense now.”

Jin finally speaks up, pointing an accusatory finger towards Jungkook, “YOU DID IT!”

“I’ve already told you that I’m not the culprit!”

“Really?!” Jin challenges, “We found your footprint. You’re the one in need of money and tried to get the treasure underneath the headstone.”

He suddenly glances around, like he was still collecting proof against Jungkook’s case.

His eyes land onto the battered mallet used for Jungkook’s whac-a-mole machine, raising it in the air.

“Aha!” He exclaims, “This is what you broke it with!”

“Actually he broke that mallet because he’s ridiculously competitive and was prepared to win at any cost.” You interject, arms crossed.

“Oh….”

Jungkook deadpans at Jin’s dwindling resolve, an impassive and unimpressed expression spreading over his features.

“You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Jin protests, grabbing a small book from his back pocket. He vigorously flips through the pages, eyes twinkling, “I told you about Blue Village being involved!”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Leader Jimin did it!”

You attempt to hush him down, but Jin cocks up a brow, baffled with the suggestion.

“What? That kid?” Jungkook nods, “Nah, he’s an angel. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Offense is written all over Jungkook, “Then what am I?!”

“A greedy game owner!” Jin accuses, only for Jungkook to sigh.

“I’m innocent, Jin.” He desperately glances in your direction, “Just ask Y/N!”

“She’s probably plotting with you!!”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, about to give your two cents on the ridiculousness of the conversation until the sound of small ding resonates through the room.

A pair of two small feet come to a stop, wide eyes staring at the three individuals in front of him.

You recognize him immediately as the boy that came to your game room the day you had barren business.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Jungkook perks up, “The kid who Y/N paid for!”

Jin whips around, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook and prepares to write in his book. “Excoriating money from our employee’s now, are we?”

“I willingly paid for him.” You correct right away, aware that Jin seemed to be on Jungkook’s tail no matter what. Spinning around, you crouch down to view the boy, “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the headstone marked as a crime scene.” He speaks, peeking around with wide eyes. “I wanted to see the Detective.”

Jin immediately pushes forward, adjusting his hat and leaning down with his notebook.

“Do you know anything about how it was broken?”

The boy nods, “I was on my way to school when I saw two people walking to the headstone. One of them was dressed very fancy and the other one had blue hair.”

“Richman V and RM!” Jungkook exclaims, only for Jin to hush him down.

“It’s too early to draw conclusions!”

Jungkook scoffs, “So drawing conclusions about me without evidence wasn’t too early?!”

“Did he have bronze hair?” You immediately question, and the boy nods, “Was the other one wearing a box office uniform?”

He nods again, “They were talking to each other but not in a nice way. I think they were fighting.”

“They were fighting?” Jungkook wonders, staring at you in disbelief.

“Hold it!” Jin exclaims, moving towards the boy. He points towards you and Jungkook, expression keen, “Did you see these two near the headstone?”

He places a finger against his chin, a spark lighting up in his eyes, “I did!”

“AHA‒”

“But they were making a wish together when the headstone wasn’t broken.”

“….oh?” Jin whispers, his pen freezing in place. The boy smiles, gazing at you.

“I hope your wish came true.”

You return his smile, “Thanks for coming by, kid.”

He nods, waving at Jungkook and Jin before you open the door and let him rush home.

Silence reigns heavy in the arcade room.

Jin eventually clears his throat.

His voice is considerably quiet, nowhere near the loud and dramatic tone you were accustomed to hearing.

“It seems like I’ve made a mistake…”

“Seems like?!” Jungkook angrily shouts, but Jin coxes him right away.

“Mistakes can happen! Someone can look guilty and end up not being…”

Jungkook has a “are you serious?” expression and Jin cheekily smiles, before racing towards the door.

“Oh wow, would you look at the time?? I’ll catch up with you guys later!” The door is shutting close before you can even utter another word, your eyes rolling at the man's catastrophe.

This just in!

Famous Property Owner and Dealer Richman V and Box Office Employee RM caught for destroying one of the more treasured possessions of BTS Village!

Thanks to the testimony of one boy, more eyewitnesses were found and several pieces of evidence led to the duo facing charges. It is said that RM needed the money to attend an audition and had tried to negotiate with Richman V for help near the headstone. Richman V, who was facing the displeasure of not obtaining a particular arcade in the village, wanted to know about the mysterious treasure hidden deep beneath the stone. Sources suggests that two were baffled about the broken headstone and attempted to cover up the accident by‒

“Oh, would you just get to the good part already?!” Jungkook slams his fist against the counter, desperation leaking into his voice.

You let out a sigh, scrolling through the newspaper until you find the excerpt. Clearing your throat, you mimic your best anchor voice again.

Initially, Detective Jin from BTS Village had suspicions on a certain game room owner that goes by the name of Jeon Jungkook, but with further investigation done, it was found that he was at the crime scene prior to the incident and was deemed innocent.

“Well, it’s nice hearing someone say I’m innocent.” Jungkook remarks, leaning against his hand on his cheek.

The newspaper is yanked down, “I said you were innocent.”

“Of course you did!” He proclaims, “Why else would you want to turn your innocent boss in?”

“I can think of a couple of reasons.” You mumble underneath your breath, only for Jungkook to pout. “What?”

“I’m still broke as hell.” He shifts his attention to his account book on the counter, lazily flipping through the pages. “Business has been better, but I’m still not making enough money.”

You roll your eyes, aware that business truthfully has been better thanks to your combined efforts and that it would take time for some stable revenue to roll in, as long as Jungkook’s dramatics don’t manage to interfere.

“Maybe you should hire a different employee instead of me.” You sassily retort, “Let’s see what happens to business then.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Because you’re ‘losing’ money.” You exaggerate in the same tone he used.

“Nah, I’m never going to get rid of you.” He softly says, “You always have my back.”

For a moment, you just blink your eyes. Turning around, you’re expecting a cocky smirk on his lips or a teasing raise of his brows.

Instead, you’re met with sincere eyes and a genuine smile, something that nearly has the newspaper in your hands slipping from your hands.

You slowly open your mouth to respond.

“Why are the two of you having a staring contest?”

Both you and Jungkook whip around, watching Jin poke at one of the machines with a frown on his face.

Jungkook’s jaw drops down, “What are you doing here?!”

Jin looks at him taken aback, the anger in his voice prevalent. “What? Were you two having a moment or something?”

You avert your eyes as Jungkook’s brow twitches.

He shakes his head, a whine escaping him, “Why are you here, Jin?”

“Oh!” He pipes up, “Are you hiring at the moment by any chance?”

“What?”

Jin cheekily smiles, “So my reputation as a detective kind of went sour with this recent case, you know, with suspecting and falsely accusing someone innocent and‒ what are you doing?”

He’s being effortlessly lifted by Jungkook, before being planted right outside of the arcade.

Jungkook closes the door shut, sending him a friendly wave with a strained smile as Jin scoffs.

“Oh come on, JK!”

“Come back when I really am innocent!” He childishly laughs as Jin throws a fit of anger from the display.

Jungkook glances in your direction almost as if to gauge your reaction to his antics, but you simply smile and shake your head with a roll of your eyes.

Jungkook snaps his fingers.

“This entire place should have a makeover!” He springs up from his seat from his revelation, pacing around the room, “We can take out the bookcase and maybe add more machines, we could even paint the walls maybe like a royal blue, put some speakers here‒….”

You lounge on one of the chairs as you watch your boss continuing his ramble, eyes follow along with the speed of his legs as he practically pounces around the place.

It’s been a while since the ARMY headstone mystery has been resolved, and aside from helping Detective Jin with getting a job after Jungkook’s refusal of hiring another employee, you’ve come to terms with yourself.

You have feelings for your boss. It’s plain obvious.

The problem lies in the fact that you work with him, meaning that no matter what you do and say, he’s naturally inclined to believe that you’re simply doing him a favour as an employee.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lean back in your chair.

Jungkook whirls around, childlike excitement sparking in his large doe eyes, “Well?”

You abruptly blink, realizing that you hadn’t caught onto a single thing he said because you were too caught up in your own head.

Standing up, you pat his shoulder and walk over to the counter, “Let’s discuss this later.”

“What?” Jungkook watches your fading form, a crease forming between his brows, “A-Are you sure? You seem to be really out of it these days, Y/N.”

At the hint of concern in his voice, your eyes widen, “Uh, yeah!” You nervously laugh, “I seriously doubt we’ll figure it all out in one day.”

Jungkook pursues his lips, “Hm, that’s true.”

He smiles and you wipe away the sweat from your temples, a relieved exhale leaving you.

***

You have to confess to him.

You’ve been thinking about it all night long, and as soon as the sun rose this morning, you were determined to tell Jungkook how you felt about him. You’ve already come up with a bunch of ways to convince him that yes, you like him in case he dips into his notorious denial, and even were prepared for any spouts of panic that might burst out from your dynamic abruptly shifting.

There’s nothing that can surprise you now.

Your feet immediately slow down, mouth falling agape.

In front of you is the arcade, and at the same time, you wonder if you’ve even arrived at the right shop.

Gone are the large advertising and attention drawing signs, cardboard cutout replaced with navy blue and black speakers. The yellow and blue lights have been replaced with midnight black and white ones, soft music radiating out from the door.

You continue to stare at it in puzzlement.

The arcade you knew was loud and bold, noise drowning through into your ears and strobe lights nearly blinding you.

Cautiously, you open the front door, your surprise simply magnifying with every step you take.

The walls are coloured with a shade of dark blue, replacing the dull beige completely. The bookshelf has disappeared, replaced with new gaming machines instead of similar ones linked up in a row.

One of them consists of a brand new whac-a-mole machine, your eyes flickering over the colorful display and shining mallet.

“Y/N?!” A voice suddenly calls out, snapping you out of your awe-filled daze. Turning around, you don’t see your boss in sight.

“Jungkook?” You call back out, only for the sound of boxes shifting resonating from the back room.

“Just give me a minute!”

You hum, picking up the mallet with a smile as you walk closer to the door.

“What have you done to this place?”

“You like it?”

You inspect the instrument in your hand, “Yeah, it looks amazing….”

His laughter seeps through the door, “That’s great! I just thought the place needed something different, you know? Almost like a re-opening.”

The corner of your mouth lifts up, “From now on, Jeon’s arcade is a new experience for all!”

You snort at the slogan, placing the mallet back down on the counter. That’s when your eyes focus onto the small bottle on the counter, the words ‘hair dye’ causing them to enlarge with size.

As you grab onto it, the back door room opens and Jungkook emerges out, his blonde strands bright and damp with drops of water.

He beams at you, doe eyes crinkling and a giant smile breaking out onto his features.

“What do you think?” He eagerly asks, “Doesn’t it help with the new experience in here?”

The hair dye bottle slips from your hands, no coherent words forming from the tip of your tongue as your mouth drops wide open. Jungkook can only stare in confusion as pink rapidly scatters across your features and it’s in that one sole moment you realize.

No matter how hard you try, your boss always finds some way to surprise you.

177 notes · View notes

beginagainunsolved · 3 years

Text

RYAN: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we’ll be talking about the mysterious “death” of Jason Todd.

SHANE: Why is death in air quotes there?

RYAN: You’ll see.

SHANE: I love it when you get all mysterious. Really draws me in. You’ve got me on the edge of my seat here, Ryan!

RYAN: Oh, it gets edgier.

SHANE: Don’t think that works in this context, buddy.

RYAN: It does. You’ll see. This guy’s a real edgelord.

SHANE: Gross.

RYAN: Shut up. Anyway, this is actually one of our most highly requested cases. We get comments to do this one every time we post a new video, so —

SHANE: You guys can SHUT UP now. We’re DOING IT. Get off our BACKS.

RYAN: Okay, maybe don’t — maybe don’t yell at them.

SHANE: Hey, I’ll yell if I want to yell.

RYAN: Okay.

RYAN, NARRATION: Jason Peter Todd was the second ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne, adopted shortly after his first ward, Dick Grayson, was emancipated and moved away from Gotham city.

SHANE: Why is this guy always adopting kids? Can that be the next episode?

RYAN: That would be so boring. “This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved: A Billionaire is Lonely.”

SHANE: There are better ways to deal with loneliness, Ryan.

RYAN: I don’t know. He seems to like his way.

SHANE: I guess.

RYAN, NARRATION: Not much is known about Jason’s life prior to his adoption. Unlike Wayne’s previous ward, Dick Grayson, it doesn’t appear that Todd had any sort of public persona. Most reports claim he was born to a poor family and largely grew up on the streets, but it’s difficult to confirm.

SHANE: You mean you couldn’t find it on Google?

RYAN: Yeah, I couldn’t find it on Google. I typed in “Jason Todd - Street Youth?” And nothing came up, so I called it a day and got a smoothie.

SHANE: (wheeze)

RYAN, NARRATION: Most accounts of Jason’s life begin shortly after his adoption. During this time, it appears that Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne weren’t on speaking terms, at least to the general public. Shortly before Jason’s adoption, Dick stopped making public appearances and attending galas with Wayne. Many speculate that Jason’s adoption was Wayne’s attempt to fill the void left by his first ward’s departure.

SHANE: Oof.

RYAN: Yeah, oof.

SHANE: And I thought my family had drama!

RYAN: Your family has you. That’s enough drama.

SHANE: Didn’t your dad cut someone’s head off once?

RYAN: Please stop telling people that. Someone’s gonna believe you! The FBI are going to show up at his door!

SHANE: I hope they do. I hope SHIELD interrogates him.

RYAN: NO!

RYAN, NARRATION: People who knew Jason Todd in the years immediately following his adoption into the Wayne family paint the tale of a troubled young man vying for the attention of his newfound father. After his supposed death, many of Wayne’s high status acquaintances who had met the boy at galas and public events were quick to come forward with their own accounts of his demeanor and personality.

SHANE: Ryan, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…

RYAN AND SHANE, IN UNISON: Rich people fucking suck.

SHANE: Rich people fucking suck!

RYAN: On this, we absolutely agree.

SHANE: This one thing!

RYAN: This one thing, yeah.

SHANE: Anyway. Eat the rich!

RYAN: Okay.

RYAN, NARRATION: The real mystery of Jason Todd, of course, doesn’t lie in how he became associated with Bruce Wayne. The real mystery comes from how this association ended.

SHANE: Here we go!

RYAN: Here we go.

RYAN, NARRATION: Then, in 2010, not long after his adoption into the Wayne family, Jason suddenly disappeared from the public eye. Much like Dick Grayson before him, he stopped attending galas and public events. Unlike Dick Grayson, no one seemed to know where he ended up at all.

SHANE: So this wasn’t a “I’m mad at my dad so I’m gonna crash on my buddy’s couch” type situation.

RYAN: Oh, no, definitely not. This kid seemingly vanished into thin air.

SHANE: Like Amelia Earhart! We all remember her!

RYAN: Don’t say anything about the —

SHANE: She was eaten by crabs.

RYAN: Jesus Christ.

RYAN, NARRATION: This went on for some time, with Jason out of the public eye and Bruce largely dodging questions about him when asked. Then, one day, Bruce Wayne called a press conference and made a startling revelation: Jason Todd was dead.

SHANE: Not a fun press conference.

RYAN: Not really, no. It’s — You can still watch it on YouTube. It’s bleak, man.

SHANE: Well, he’s announcing his son’s untimely death, Ryan. There’s not gonna be confetti.

RYAN: Yeah, but I mean — he pretty much just gets up on stage, makes a depressing ass announcement, and leaves right away.

SHANE: Imagine being a reporter there. Just standing out in the rain. Was it raining? I bet it was raining.

RYAN: I think it’s just, like, perpetually raining in Gotham. It’s got those kind of vibes.

SHANE: Depressing noir detective vibes, yeah. That’s why all those people dress up like bats and clowns. Nobody does that in L.A.

RYAN: No, we don’t get a lot of bats or clowns in L.A.

SHANE: We had the flame head guy! Miss him.

RYAN: He comes up in this.

SHANE: HE DOES?!?

RYAN: Spoiler alert!

SHANE: No, she lives in Gotham, too.

RYAN: Shut up.

RYAN, NARRATION: Life seemed to move on for the Wayne family after this. Jason was buried in a Gotham cemetery following a private funeral. Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne seemingly reunited. Some time down the line, Wayne adopted Tim Drake, a boy whose recently deceased parents ran in his social circles. Jason continued to be a rarely mentioned subject in any public appearances made by the Wayne family and their close associates, and any time he was brought up in interviews, journalists were categorically shut down.

SHANE: This is getting depressing, but I want to circle back around to this guy’s kid adopting addiction. Nobody should have this many orphans, Ryan.

RYAN: I mean, he’s helping them, right?

SHANE: Is he? He’s just replacing one with the next! Like a congo line!

RYAN: A congo line of — You know, I say this a lot, but this time I really mean it. You are going to get us so sued.

SHANE: It’s like the Macarena. You put an orphan in and take an orphan out.

RYAN: That’s the Hokey Pokey.

SHANE: And shake ‘em all about.

RYAN: Please stop.

RYAN, NARRATION: With most cases, this would be the end of it. A bleak end to a bleak story. But instead, this is where things get weird.

SHANE: Hooo boy. This is where the air quotes come in.

RYAN: This is where the air quotes come in!

RYAN, NARRATION: A few years after his death, Jason Todd seemingly reemerged. He was spotted leaving Wayne Manor, a few inches taller and with a new hair do.

SHANE: I’m just gonna put this out there, like, as an unofficial theory.

RYAN: Oh god.

SHANE: Are we sure this wasn’t just some other random orphan? The guy likes orphans, Ryan. He has an orphan problem.

RYAN: If it was another random orphan, it was a random orphan that looked exactly like Jason Todd.

SHANE: Wouldn’t put it past him!

RYAN: How would he even manage that?

SHANE: I don’t know! He’s rich!

RYAN: That can’t be your answer to everything shady you accuse someone of doing.

SHANE: It can, and it is.

RYAN: I really hope Buzzfeed has lawyer lined up for us. We’re gonna need so many lawyers.

SHANE: I’m sure we’ll be fine.

RYAN: (long sigh)

RYAN, NARRATION: When asked about Todd’s sudden reappearance, members of the Wayne family dodged the question just as thoroughly as they once dodged questions regarding his death. Their excuses, typically flimsy, varied from person to person with some saying the man who appeared to be Jason was actually someone else, and others saying said man didn’t exist at all.

SHANE: Pfffft. “Oh, no, there’s no man here! No man at all!”

RYAN: I actually looked up a lot of the denials, and some of them get… wild. Dick Grayson once claimed that no one ever said Jason Todd died at all.

SHANE: The press conference is on YouTube!

RYAN: He said it was a prank.

SHANE: A prank? Man, fuck this guy!

RYAN: I think he just panicked.

SHANE: He can panic more smoothly than that, at least! Have a little respect!

RYAN: (wheeze) You’re telling people about respect now?

SHANE: I’m very respectful, Ryan.

RYAN: You told a ghost to eat your ass last week!

SHANE: We’ve been over this. I don’t respect ghosts because they aren’t real. I told an empty room to eat my ass. And it did not comply.

RYAN: You accused Bruce Wayne of stealing orphans three minutes ago!

SHANE: I don’t respect rich people, either, because fuck ‘em.

RYAN: (wheeze)

RYAN, NARRATION: So, what ever happened to Jason Todd? Let’s get into the theories.

SHANE: I’m sure they’re all perfectly reasonable.

RYAN: As always.

SHANE: Oh, no.

RYAN, NARRATION: The first theory is that Jason Todd’s “death” was a coverup for a ransom attempt.

SHANE: That kind of makes sense.

RYAN: Yeah! Like, obviously Wayne wouldn’t want people to know his kid was abducted for ransom. Especially if he was going to plan on paying it.

SHANE: Well. I don’t think he’d say “yeah that kid’s dead” if he was planning on paying the ransom.

RYAN: You think he left him to die?

SHANE: RICH PEOPLE SUCK!

RYAN: God. I can taste the lawsuit.

RYAN, NARRATION: This theory is a rather straightforward one: After receiving a ransom note for his son some time after his disappearance, Wayne announced Jason’s death to cover it up and prevent the kidnappers from getting the publicity that would have made them infamous.

SHANE: Like a big ole fuck you!

RYAN: Yeah, I mean, you’d get a lot of clout for kidnapping a famous billionaire’s son. Especially in Gotham, right? Out there, it’s like… Crime is currency, almost. You build up a reputation like that, you can rule the city.

SHANE: Exactly! So by taking that away… Kind of ruins their whole thing.

RYAN: Right! And then they’ve got no use for Jason anymore and, you know, killing somebody’s a lot harder than kidnapping them, so…

SHANE: Oh, I don’t think they let him go. That kid was scrappy. He probably gave ‘em all rabies and ran.

CAMERAMAN, IN BACKGROUND: Guys. Defamation —

SHANE: Yeah, yeah, we know. Let’s move on!

RYAN, NARRATION: The next theory ties back to Jason’s alleged life before his adoption as a street kid. This theory states that Jason, like many young people in Gotham, got tangled up with some of the neighborhood’s local gangs and got in over his head.

SHANE: His sordid past as an eight year old came back to haunt him?

RYAN: Well, presumably he stayed in contact with people he knew at the time and got pulled into the gangs later.

SHANE: Nah, I want an eight year old with a shiv. He’ll shank you… but only from the waist down. Can’t reach any higher.

RYAN: (wheeze)

SHANE: Except for on you! You’re, like, the size of an eight year old. Man, he’d crush you.

RYAN: Yeah, well, you’d be fine, Gumbo. He wouldn’t be able to reach anything above your foot. You’d be like a giraffe stepping on a thumbtack.

SHANE: I keep telling you, Ryan, I am average height. You’re just abnormally short.

RYAN: Fuck you, buddy.

SHANE: Ouch.

RYAN, NARRATION: According to this theory, Jason’s death was faked in order to save his life from mobsters associated with famed Gotham gang leader Oswald Cobblepot, otherwise known as the Penguin.

SHANE: Why does everybody in Gotham have a stupid name?

RYAN: You don’t like the Penguin?

SHANE: I don’t care for it, no, but I also don’t love the name ‘Oswald Cobblepot.’ Like, that sounds ridiculous.

RYAN: Maybe that’s why he chooses to go by the Penguin.

SHANE: He should choose to go by Stan.

RYAN: Stan?

SHANE: Stan.

RYAN: No clarification there?

SHANE: I don’t believe it needs any.

RYAN: Okay.

RYAN, NARRATION: Our third theory is by far the most simple: Tired of the life of a billionaire’s son, Jason asked Bruce to fake his death in order to allow him to disappear from the public eye.

SHANE: (wheeze)

RYAN: I will admit… There are probably better ways to duck out of the public eye.

SHANE: YOU THINK?

RYAN: Like, faking my death might not be my first resort.

SHANE, IN AN EXAGGERATED IMITATION OF A CHILD’S VOICE: Oh, I’m tired of people taking my picture. Papa, will you tell them all I died a gruesome death? I’m going to Fiji!

RYAN: (wheeze)

SHANE: And then Wayne, what, just went along with it?

RYAN: Well, I guess he was due for another orphan soon anyway.

SHANE: I’m so glad you’ve warmed up to these jokes.

RYAN: I’m getting sued anyway, I might as well have fun with it.

SHANE: I am loving this development for you, Ryan!

RYAN, NARRATION: The next theory ties into a legend that some of our viewers from the Los Angeles area may be familiar with, —

SHANE: OH HELL YEAH! HERE IT COMES!

RYAN, NARRATION: — the Ghost Rider.

SHANE: (cheering)

RYAN, NARRATION: This theory states that Jason Todd’s anonymity exists to cover up his identity, and that the initial ‘death’ occured when he took up the mantle. Some believers of this theory claim that Wayne may have actually believed Todd was dead at the time, as he may have dropped off the radar entirely in order to pursue work as the Ghost Rider.

SHANE: This is my favorite one.

RYAN: I don’t think there’s any merit to it.

SHANE: Oh, absolutely not. But you’ve gotta love the theater of it!

RYAN: It does have a certain level of aesthetic appeal, yeah.

SHANE: Just some random rich kid out here with his head on fire, killing guys with crowbars.

RYAN: (wheeze) Why crowbars?

SHANE: I don’t know. Crowbars feel right here.

RYAN: That doesn’t make any sense.

SHANE: And the rest of this does?

RYAN: Good point.

RYAN, NARRATION: Perhaps supporting this theory is the fact that Ghost Rider tends to go after gangsters much like the ones Todd would have been dodging as a young man in Gotham. It also seems to tie into the rash, angry personality that many people claim he displayed. According to this theory’s supporters, Todd became fed up with the state of the city.

SHANE: And… what? Decided to light his head on fire?

RYAN: Well, maybe he was a metahuman.

SHANE: I guess that’s why he didn’t stay in Gotham. Doesn’t Batman kick them all out?

RYAN: That’s what people say, yeah.

SHANE: Man. Dick move of Batman to kick Bruce Wayne’s kid out of the city. (chuckles.) Get it? Dick?

RYAN: Oh my god.

RYAN, NARRATION: Our fifth and final theory is that Jason Todd was abducted by aliens.

SHANE: Nope.

RYAN: Don’t you at least want to hear the full theory?

SHANE: Absolutely not.

RYAN: Well, they do.

SHANE: Who is ‘they’ ?

RYAN: The people!

SHANE: They don’t want to hear your alien theories, Ryan. No one does.

RYAN: Well, it’s my video. And I’m going to tell the alien theory.

SHANE: (long sigh)

RYAN, NARRATION: This theory states that aliens, in an attempt to gain power and intel in preparation for an invasion, targeted Jason because of his close relationship with one of the richest and most prominent men in Gotham.

SHANE: So they interrogated him and then just spat him back out?

RYAN: Let me finish!

RYAN, NARRATION: According to this theory, the Jason Todd who returned after his ‘death’ was not Jason Todd at all but, rather, was an alien clone.

SHANE: I regret letting you finish.

RYAN: (wheeze) I knew you would!

RYAN, NARRATION: Believers of this theory claim it’s supported by the physical differences between the Jason Todd who disappeared and the one who lives in Gotham now, including his hair and his height.

SHANE: Or, hear me out. He grew. And he dyed his hair.

RYAN: Aliens seems more plausible to me.

SHANE: I hate you.

RYAN: (wheeze)

RYAN, NARRATION: So, what really happened to Jason Todd? Did he fall in deep with the wrong crowds and have to give up his life to find his way out? Was he kidnapped in an attempt to get money and influence from his wealthy adoptive family? Or is there something otherworldly about his disappearance and reappearance into the world? With the Wayne family refusing comments and no other sources to consult, it looks like the truth behind the scenes of Gotham’s most prestigious family will have to remain… unsolved.

WHAT UNSOLVED MYSTERY DO YOU WANT TO SEE NEXT?

#beginagainunsolved #episode: jason todd #true crime

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