#and he added on the '2 years before the game' for good measure like. yeah
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john disagreeing with in his words "copying and pasting the origin story from the books into the games effectively spoiling everything about it" in his new video is so fucking based he is so real
#like yeah. i dont blame you john for making theories about the gameverse being different than the book#this is boring asf lmaoo#and he added on the '2 years before the game' for good measure like. yeah#no wonder im not interesting in Sotm. i can just go read everything itll show me in the books or watch a summary#literally sucks theyre going down this route#pandas.txt#discourse#pre sotm#so glad the fnaf fanbase has a theorist like john like#he literally is so needed in this content farm 'theorists' hell#no wonder the only people ive seen excited or looking forward to somt are#literal casual fans who wouldnt know book lore or the diehard mimic and tftp fans who know every inch of its lore#which i know the point is so the casual fans who dont know can know#but like then. literally what was the point of writing this shit in a book.#they could have just made a game about its origin and it would be new for everyone#but now they wrote a book telling everyone a character and its backstory existed before it even showed up#spoiling ruin instantly#and now its spoiling whats supposed to be its origin story by. writing its origin story years prior#surely to god there could have been a much better way to handle this
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[2:14 pm]
(cw: cursing, reader is a lil teensy weensy bit toxic but it's fun!!!)
"Did you still want to go get food?" you ask from your position on gamer!Haechan's bed. The same spot you'd been in for the last, wow, almost 3 hours.
"Fuck off! Get my 6 motherfucker!" Haechan yells, before answering softly, "yeah, of course, baby."
You rolled your eyes, he wasn't even listening to you. He had been listening to you when you showed up 4 hours ago when he was very calmly showing you all the changes he made on his Animal Crossing Island. Then, and this was smart, he slid his Switch over to you and told you to make any changes you'd like. So you spent about an hour on his Switch, placing decorations and buying clothes to send to your own island before you realized he was keeping you busy so he could play Fortnite.
Just like he'd been playing last night when he insisted you call him to talk. That casual, and some might even call it cute, conversation lasted all of 20 minutes before he was screaming so loud, you heard him across the room even when your phone wasn't on speaker. Since he'd been so adamant about playing last night and played for so long, you thought today he'd be over it. WRONG! Apparently, there had been some update or something and that reignited his Fortnite obsession.
"Well, do you want to go out like we planned or do you want me to order something?" You asked, turning to lay on your side.
"Of course, my love- oh you stupid fuck! Get back here!" Haechan groaned as the keyboard clacking got even louder.
You pulled a blanket over your face to muffle a groan of your own. A groan of annoyance an frustration more than anything. You'd give him 10 more minutes and then you'd take drastic measures.
You checked the time, 2:14, perfect. You figured you could have at least a little fun while you waited.
"I think it would make you totally ugly if you shaved your head, but why not do it anyway? What do you think?" You asked with a smile.
Haechan nods, "Totally agree, babe. Someone come get this stupid ass little 10 year old that tried to steal my loot."
"And you should pay for our food! And dessert!" You added.
"Of course, baby! Oh, oh, dude! Dude! Headshot! That was a headshot! Holy shit! That was gold!" He exclaimed excitedly.
"And I was thinking maybe after dinner we can go sell your whole set up. Maybe to the first guy we see for like a dollar even less!"
"Yeah, definitely. Dude, I'm out. Fuck, I lagged. Let's join a new game, I'm tired of playing with these fucking kids," Haechan groans, running his hands down his face.
Perfect, you stood up and quickly moved to his computer, pulling at some random plugs until the screen shut off. You placed your hand over his mouth with a sickeningly sweet smile, "We're going to go eat now. Then, because you agreed, we're going to shave your head, you're going to pay, and then we're going to sell your little computer and the whole set up."
You could feel his lips moving beneath your hand, "But-"
You tsked with a fake pout, "Baby, you agreed."
"I wasn't listening! I don't remember what you said!"
"You don't listen when I talk?" You ask with an arched brow.
He opened his mouth and quickly closed it to take a second to think. He hummed, "I promise, the next time we have plans I won't get distracted by games." You gave him a look as if to ask, and? he cleared his throat, "and I won't try cheap gimmicks to distract you. And I will pay for dinner and for the rest of the day all my attention will be on you and no one or anything else. But I won't shave my head or sell my set up."
You smiled, "I was joking. I just wanted to see if anything would catch your attention. Now, let's go, I'm hungry."
You were both on your out when Haechan asked, "do you think I'd look good with a shaved head? Is that why you asked."
You couldn't even look at him, choosing instead to focus on the sidewalk beneath your feet, "yeah, baby. Of course..."
#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct timestamps#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#haechan imagines#haechan x reader#haechan fluff#haechan drabbles#haechan blurbs#haechan timestamps
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Marriage 101: Part 4
Earlier parts here or on AO3: 1 | 2 | 3
And without further ado:
“Are you cooking?” Tim asked Jason, who was in the kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans and ground beef and tomatoes and Tupperware.
“Gosh,” Jason deadpanned, cleaving an onion in half with a bang. “It’s like you were trained by the World’s Greatest Detective.”
Tim shut his mouth in his next question, which was going to be <i>what</i> Jason was cooking, and surveyed the ingredients. Ground beef, chopped onions, tomatoes - “Chili?” he asked hopefully.
“Yeah and if you want any, you’d better get in here and get to work,” Jason suggested.
His tone was only slightly menacing but Tim got in there and said gamely, “Okay, what do you need me to do?”
“These onions aren't going to chop themselves,” Jason said, sliding the cutting board in front of Tim. He turned to the stove and started unpacking the ground beef.
“Okay, cool,” Tim said to hype himself up. Then he searched YouTube for an onion cutting tutorial.
“Are you for real?” Jason asked as Tim watched it on 1.5 speed. “Have you never had to cut an onion before?”
“It turns out it's much safer to let your kids microwave their meals instead of letting 9-year-olds use butcher knives and gas stoves, “ Tim said mildly and started making clockwise cuts through the onion like the person in the video.
At the first cut, Tim’s sinuses ached. He winced, eyes burning. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrist and tried to open them to look where he was cutting. <i>Tear gas</i> he realized, slamming the knife down. How had it gotten in his kitchen?
“Jason,” he shouted. He couldn’t see but Jason had only been a few steps away. He reached out -
Jason was laughing like this was fucking hilarious.
“What the fuck?” Tim managed. He staggered sideways and the burn in his eyelids eased a little.
“Whoa, kid.” Jason’s big hands clasped Tim’s shoulders. “C’mon,” he laughed. “There’s no crying in cooking!”
“Ha,” Tim said, squinting up at him with watering eyes. “What?”
“The onions did you in,” Jason said. “Hold on a sec.”
Tim pried his eyes open wide enough to see light and then squeezed them shut again.
“Here.” Jason pressed a damp cloth to Tim’s face. The burn eased and finally Tim was able to shutter his eyes open. Jason grinned ruefully at him. “You okay?”
“Ugh,” Tim said. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
Jason shrugged. “It doesn’t hit everyone like that.”
“Oh, I’m just lucky.” Tim dabbed at his eyes and glared at the offending vegetable on the counter.
“If you take over the beef, I’ll finish the onion,” Jason offered.
“Maybe,” Tim caged. “What’s it gonna do to me?”
“The worst it’ll do is burn if you don’t keep it moving,” Jason told him.
Tim took over stirring the ground beef and breaking up the pieces. He watched from a safe distance as Jason sliced up the onion and started in on a green pepper.
“Did you pick this up from Alfred?” he asked, shoving the ground beef around the pan.
“Some of it,” Jason said, scooping the onion and pepper into the stock pot and slicing into the tomatoes. “I sometimes made stuff when my mom wasn’t feeling well. Most of it came out of a can, though. Alfred taught me about real food.”
There was an awkward silence as Tim realized this was the most Jason had ever said about his childhood in Tim’s company. He poked at the ground beef. “When I was a kid, we had a cook named Mrs. Mac. Mrs. McIlvaine. Everything she made seemed to be a casserole. Except lasagna. She made a really good lasagna.”
“Isn’t lasagna kind of a casserole, too?” Jason asked, taking the pan of beef away from Tim and draining it in the sink before scraping it into the stock pot.
“Yeah, I guess,” Tim said after due consideration.
“What happened to her?” Jason asked. He glanced over at Tim as he was adding chili powder and Tim wondered if he should be concerned that Jason didn’t feel the need to use measuring spoons.
“My dad had to let her go when he declared bankruptcy,” Tim admitted. “She went back to Ireland to live with her sister.”
“That sucks,” Jason declared, moving on to a half dozen other spices. “What’s it like going from riches to rags?”
“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Tim said because for him what came later was so much worse. “We moved to an apartment downtown but we were only there a few months before - “ He shrugged. “And then I lived with Bruce full-time before I bought the Nest.”
Jason slowed in his stirring of the chili. “Yeah. I always thought you were lucky, having parents longer than any of the rest of us. But what happened to your dad was shitty.”
“Thanks,” Tim said, because that was actually pretty empathetic for Jason.
“Here, taste this,” Jason said, shoving a spoon in Tim’s face. Sharing time was apparently over.
Tim mouthed the chili from the spoon. “Needs more garlic,” he said.
“It doesn’t even - “ Jason stopped and dipped the spoon back in the chili. Tim winced, but only a little. Whatever finally took him down, it wasn’t going to be his own germs. Jason stuck the spoon in his mouth.
“You’re right,” he declared, and Tim shrugged, trying not to be too pleased.
$
It was weirdly easy to avoid Bruce these days. The most important thing to remember was to not be weird about it. Tim showed up for roll call and patrol assignments, showed up for work at Wayne Enterprises, showed for training.
He made it through August and most of September in this fashion, and then Bruce said,
“Tim, you're with me, tonight.”
Stephanie kicked him in the ankle.
“Ooh, what did you do?” she stage-whispered and Tim played his part, rolling his eyes and hissing back,
“Nothing!” He kicked her ankle for good measure and tried to look innocent and attentive when Bruce glanced back their way.
When everyone split up to go their separate ways, Tim drifted over to Bruce’s side.
Jason hadn't shown up that night, not that Tim was surprised. He had his territory and he didn't need to be told to patrol it. There was no citywide emergency thus far and no reason for Jason to be hanging around. But if Tim was going to get called out on his marriage of convenience, he wanted his co-husband along for the ride.
<i>Don’t be weird,</i> he reminded himself and lingered in Bruce's shadow.
Bruce kept it broodingly silent as they got into the Batmobile and accelerated quickly through the long tunnel that took them out to Gotham proper. Tim, who paid attention to the briefings, made a pertinent remark about the night’s stakeout plan and received an approving nod.
“I haven't seen much of you since classes started,” Bruce finally said. “I know you've been busy. Do you need anything off your plate?”
“What? No!” Tim’s brain raced through his to-do list and tried to remember if there were any balls he'd dropped. Maybe he didn't always do all his reading and maybe he was a few HR trainings behind at WE but his case files were up-to-date and he hadn't been taken hostage in literal months.
“It's not a criticism,” Bruce said mildly. “It's just a matter of delegating some of the responsibilities you've outgrown if necessary.”
“Oh, um, no,” Tim said. “I mean, there's that ethics training I haven't done yet but - “
“I’ll make that go away,” Bruce said.
“It’s <i>ethics</i> training,” Tim protested. “I’ll…just play it in the background while I’m in a meeting or something.”
Batman side-eyed him. “Tim,” he intoned. “It’s <i>ethics</i> training.” The corner of his mouth twitched and Tim knew he was good to let out the laugh that had been lurking behind his poker face. Bruce didn’t seem to have any unusual suspicions about his marital state. Good.
“What about next week’s board meeting?” Bruce asked. “I can ask Lucius to cover it if you need.”
“I got it,” Tim said confidently. This was the one thing he shared with Bruce that was just his. Dick wasn’t interested in the business and Jason could care less - at least Tim assumed he could care less. He was starting to question his assumptions about Jason these days. Damian had tried to insert himself into the workings of Wayne Enterprises but middle school had (thankfully) diverted his attention.
“Hm.” There was silence while they surveyed the streets of Gotham and then Bruce said, “I’ve heard Jason has been taking classes, too.”
Tim was used to long silences. He worked with Batman, after all. He knew long silences were designed to make people want to fill them. So he would. But carefully.
“We actually have a freshman English class together,” he said casually. “I gave him a key to the Nest in case he wants to crash.” In case he wanted to crash every weeknight so far.
“That’s generous of you,” Bruce said slowly. “So you and Jason are getting along?”
“More or less.” Then, before Bruce could express any sort of concern - “More, really. He’s pretty chill when it comes to class.”
“Hm.” Bruce’s mouth twitched. It wasn’t quite a quirk, not quite a concession to a smile but Tim could tell he was pleased. “And you?” he asked. “Getting all your reading done?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tim scoffed. “Absolutely.”
$
Between his day job and his night job and school and being married to Jason - which didn’t actually take up any time but was hell on his concentration - Tim hadn’t gotten around to the assigned reading. He wasn’t worried though. He’d read The Great Gatsby when he was a freshman and he had good recall.
“Mr. Drake, what did you make of the subtextual indications of Nick’s homosexual experience?”
“The what?” Tim answered, because he sure as hell did not recall gay sex in The Great Gatsby.
“Ha!” Jason said from the next desk over. “I knew you missed that when we were talking about it last night. What did you <i>think</i> he and Mr. McKee were doing in their underwear, looking at pictures?”
Tim’s mind raced, landing on the party scene. “Holy shit.”
“While Mr. Drake digests this revelation,” Professor Worthington said dryly, “Mr. Peterson, please elaborate.”
“McKee comes with a wife,” Jason said, “but doesn’t go home with her. The last we see of her, she’s doing something with Myrtle’s roommate, who is the obvious pairing for Nick. Instead he takes Nick to his apartment, there’s a time skip, McKee’s in bed in his underwear, another time skip and Nick’s in Penn Station.”
“To what purpose?” Worthington asked.
“Small-scale, to establish Nick as an unreliable narrator,” Jason says, his words coming fast with his thoughts. “He claimed to be an honest man but here he’s lying by omission, he’s skipping time on purpose, leaving things out.”
“And broad-scale?” Worthington prompts.
“It calls into question the entire narrative,” Jason said. “Nick’s in love with Gatsby and sees him through rose-colored glasses, paralleling how Gatsby sees Daisy. Everything is built on perception, everything is artificial, even the perspective of the text itself.”
<i>This</i>, Tim realized, staring at Jason’s mouth. This was why he had married Jason in a court clerk’s office, hacked into the university system to put himself in a class he otherwise never would have taken, actually showed up for class. To have the chance to watch Jason argue passionately about the role of gay subtext in a narrative that was otherwise pretty PG. He wanted to crawl into Jason’s lap and kiss the words out of his mouth.
“Okay,” another student piped up. “But last week you were saying that Jay and Nick were the same person, like in Fight Club. If Nick’s gay, why is Gatsby in love with Daisy?”
“Because Nick’s the truth and Gatsby’s the lie,” Jason shot back, turning slightly in his seat and Tim bit his lip against the sigh that wanted to escape when the muscles in Jason’s shoulders bunched under his shirt. “Nick’s a failure to his family - 25, busted career, still single. But he has this, this ideal in his head, of what people want, and it’s Gatsby. Made his money illegally, but he’s still respectable, a man about town, fancy parties, the works.”
“So you’re saying,” said another girl, “that Daisy’s a beard?”
“More like a delusion.” Jason shrugged. “She’s an ideal, too, unattainable, which means he won’t ever actually have to fuck - uh, sleep with her.”
“But he’s attracted to Jordan,” someone protested as the bell rang. “Maybe he’s bi?”
Jason snorted. “Jordan’s built like Tim,” he said, glancing over. Tim tried to look casual. “She has a boy’s name, and she’s a professional athlete in the 1920s. She’s the beard.”
“We’ll pick this up on Thursday,” Professor Worthington cut in. “Good discussion. Mr. Drake, please have your husband explain the nuances of subtext to you.”
Tim flushed. “I just - “
“He’s an engineer at heart,” Jason said, suddenly in his space and resting a big, warm, hand on the back of Tim’s neck. “He likes plain meaning.”
“I like subtext,” Tim protested, but Jason just laughed and Professor Worthington smirked.
“I like noodles,” Jason said. “Let’s get Thai for dinner.”
“Is that subtext?” Tim demanded, only half joking.
“Not in front of the teacher,” Jason chided softly and crap, maybe it actually was subtext.
Jason nudged Tim out of the classroom and tangled their fingers together as they walked down the hall. “Did you even read the book?” He asked when they were out of Professor Worthington’s earshot.
“Yes,” Tim insisted mulishly. “Just. It’s been a while.”
“You’re eighteen,” Jason pointed out. “What’s a while?”
“Like three years,” Tim mumbled.
“Oh baby bird,” Jason said, voice pitched low, “even I knew whose lever Nick was pulling when I was fifteen.”
$
There’s minimal subtext in pad thai, but Tim has trouble keeping his eyes off Jason’s lips when they purse around the ends of his noodles.
“Thanks for the save,” he said, picking at a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. “Between Clock King last night and a shareholder meeting today, I’m toast.”
“No problem,” Jason said, picking out a sprout. “Why are you taking this class anyway?”
Tim’s throat suddenly burned. “Requirement,” he managed.
“And you picked this one?” Jason asked. “I’m actually surprised they want you to take required classes now. I figured you’d just take the computer engineering ones to set you up to transfer to MIT or CalTech or somewhere.”
“Nah,” Tim said, frowning at his noodles. He had an answer for that. “I’m probably staying here. The job at Wayne Corps pays well and it’s a good cover for, you know, other things.”
“You never wanted to get out of here?” Jason asked and the tinge of wistfulness in his voice surprised Tim.
“When I was younger, maybe,” he said. “My parents were always somewhere more interesting and I thought I’d like to see that. But I have and - “ The next thought didn’t lend itself easily to articulation. He finally settled on, “Gotham is home.”
Jason’s eyes were on him and Tim memorized the layout of his noodles, bean sprouts, and crushed peanuts.
“Yeah,” Jason said eventually. “I wanted out when I was younger too. But things are different when you have...power isn’t exactly what I mean, although it sure works for Bruce.”
“Autonomy,” Tim offered, forgetting that he wasn’t looking at Jadon.
“Yeah,” Jason said. “That’s it.”
He glanced down at his food and Tim studied the way his lashes fanned across his cheekbones from that angle.
“Do you think it’s weird that I’m married to a guy and can’t recognize gay subtext in anything?” he blurted out.
Jason laughed around his noodles, no more than a slight cough in the beginning. Tim was never, ever that lucky.
“Absolutely,” he said. “But entirely in character.”
This time Tim choked on his noodles. “Hey!”
Jason thumped him on the back, which didn’t actually help at all, and then left his hand resting between Tim’s shoulders.
Tim didn’t protest.
#batbrats#jason todd#tim drake#jaytim#jason todd/tim drake#red hood#red robin#red hood/red robin#fic actually#jason todd's potty mouth#jason todd's literary obsessions#tim drake's jason todd obsession
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How to win a heart of Jamil Viper?
1. Don’t be a typical hero(ine).
Contrary to the popular romance trope, tripping over the air to land on a certain cool-looking boy, and dropping all carried things, wouldn’t make Jamil fall for you. Instead, just falling because of you and sharply crashing with a floor would make him rather cautious around you and keeping a distance whether he has anything in his hands.
Believe him or not, he doesn’t need another ditsy and erratic person around him—like a certain leader from a certain dorm, who happens to create a mess anytime, anywhere.
So, let someone else be the protagonist of the story.
In that situation, you may be a side character that gets its way through obstacles and classic borders of story scheme and is much more interesting than the main persona.
That’s how you get his attention.
2. Be a help.
Oh, a person that would help him with his chores means to him much more than gold. Sometimes.
“Can I help you anyhow?” you asked when Jamil was going to the kitchen after a daily training with the rest of the dorm. He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for further explanation. “I mean with cleaning or something.”
Jamil glanced at you, not sure about your intentions.
Who would like to do something to help without having something in return? With only your will? No, it doesn’t work well in the same sentence.
But some help would be great. So, he just needs to keep sure that he won’t fall into any trap for letting you help, yes?
“Sure,” he said casually, not letting his face nor voice reveal any of his thoughts he run into. “[Name], right? Could you bring and clean the dishes from longue?”
And you helped. You really helped him a lot, staying over two hours till everything was shimmering with cleanliness and your abrupt desire to clean something and be more useful, burned out.
“Thank you for your help,” Jamil said, after correcting the last cushion in the Scarabia’s longue. You flashed him a smile. “But why, if I can ask, did you offer it in the first place?”
He got a quick response in form of a shrug.
“I... don’t really know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “...But you don’t complain, no?”
3. Be his dish taster.
“The way to a one's heart is through his stomach.”
“Try it,” Jamil handed you a spoon filled with some kind of stew. You consentaneously your opened mouth and drank all content of the spoon. Your mouth filled with many flavours and you couldn’t be sure if you ever ate that good combination in your life. “How was that?”
“Excellent as always.”
You said it all sincerely and maybe would have asked for seconds, if not the fact that Jamil already turned his back to you and got back to pots. He took another spoon and tried the dish himself, clicked his tongue and added more salt.
Once again, he turned to you and handed you a spoon.
“And how was that now?”
“Excellent as always,” you chuckled as he frowned at you.
“Don’t you think that you should add more words to your dictionary? You say the same thing on every dish,” once he said that you finished drying the last plate and preparing silverware for today’s fiesta.
“Don’t you think that I won’t be able to eat anything at the party when I will eat enough of your cooking now to write a poem about each of your culinary masterpieces?” Jamil chuckled slightly at your words.
“So, you don’t want any more?” he teased, but inside he was really flushed. Praises or cajolery, it all makes his heart skip a beat.
Finally, there was someone who appreciated all work he’s done.
4. Distract Kalim from him.
“You really shouldn’t go there,” you said, your voice as serious as you could keep it. “I mean, what if there is a monster who wants to kidnap you?”
Kalim cocked his head a little, considering your words. After a while, he nodded, fully convinced by your argument.
“You’re right,” he said. “I will warn others about this..!”
Kalim turned on his heel and spotted some people returning from morning classes. He ran to them, greeting them and walking with them as he tried to introduce the situation.
Still not believing Kalim fall for your words, you were standing alone in the centre of the corridor, a bit dumbstruck to discover the excuse Jamil came up with work.
“...Are you sure, you don’t want to tell him that some student’s from other dorm are here?” you asked as if saying to yourself your thoughts aloud.
But there was someone, someone who was hiding behind a big potted palm. He only gave you thumbs up as a preventative measure if there was still a chance that Kalim didn’t just dash through the halls to talk with some dorm students.
Jamil only looked at you and mouthed “No. Party. Today.” and quietly shifted to the corner, where the wall hid him and he could finally get up.
Mission accomplished.
5. Get rid of bugs for him.
“[Name],” Jamil called out to you, bursting through the door to your room. He looked very pale and panic was staying still in his eyes. “Would you be so kind to... deal with an intruder?”
You frowned a little before biting back a sigh. At first, you were concerned. Even Kalim getting in a serious mess didn’t make him react that seriously. But then you remembered that there was one thing that could make Jamil call you out of nowhere, acting like in an emergency. Emergency only in eyes of few.
Bugs.
Jamil never admitted to you that he is scared of them, but every time you brought up the topis, he snapped his fingers at it, saying that insects just aren’t his favourite kind of animal.
“Hmm~ Maybe after I finish this chapter,” you said, conspicuously turning a page of the book you were reading and with all your will trying not to smile nor to look at the wincing expression Jamil was wearing.
“[Name],” he said, his voice shaking with anger or frustration. “Go there right now or I will make sure you won’t get today’s dinner.”
...No dinner?
“Yes, mum,” you said putting the textbook aside and getting up from the comfortable couch.
Of all people, Jamil is probably the only one—well, maybe also Trey—that could make those words sound dangerous. Like, no dinner made by the best chef in Scarabia? It would be pure agony.
6. Have competitions.
“Aren’t you a little too good in this game?” you asked, regretfully placing pieces of the game back to the initial places.
He gave you a smile that slowly turned into a smirk, as you groaned at the next round you have lost. You flopped on the big pillow, all your will to play destroyed, as you sank between really cosy material.
“I told you I won’t give you a head start,” Jamil said, his steady voice mixed with amusement. “You even told me that you don’t want me to go easy on you before the game started.”
“Too bad,” you clicked your tongue at his response. “I was sure that after watching you play with Kalim, I remembered your tactics.”
You’ve watched at least eight rounds of Jamil and Kalim playing this game, and when it was coming to end, you were almost sure you understood and remembered the technique he was using in certain situations.
But, to your disappointment, it looked like he – even without using any of his tricky cards in his sleeve – was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, because, after three moves, you knew that probably all three were wrong when the opponent was Jamil.
“You gained nothing by it. Of course, I lost to him or... there would be a trouble,” he exclaimed. “You are different.”
“Oh, thank you. I can lose but he can’t, huh?” you frowned at him as he almost choked on the surprise he felt by hearing your response.
“...Yeah, that’s it. Just it.”
7. Have study sessions together.
“One class had a test before us,” you said scrolling through your class chat group. “They said that there wasn’t any question about these dates.”
Jamil scribbled down years of the most important magic wars, from time to time looking at you who were listing some test exercises and feeling somehow unmotivated to even properly open a history book.
Your notebook was lying in front of you, today’s lesson topic on the top of the page and many detailed doodles on its margin.
Once again... what was the unit you are having an exam about?
“It doesn’t mean, we won’t get a question about that,” Jamil tried to convince you, sliding textbook your way. “Now, read that aloud, while I prepare notes.”
You blinked twice as if woken up from daydreaming. Were you daydreaming?
“Are you sure..? I mean, all I will do is reading. Wouldn’t you rather want us to read it silently and then share our notes after this?”
“Don’t think about it much. I really like your voice,” he said it so thoughtlessly you weren’t sure if said it as an unarguable fact or just his smooth talker abilities were showing off, “and gave me your notes for the last exam so we’re even. And you won’t do any good notes when you’re sulking over this exam like that.”
8. Remind him to take breaks.
“You won’t get out of here,” you exclaimed spreading your arms as shielding a door from him. “Not a chance.”
Jamil stood a feet next to you, grimace stretching on his lips as he knew what’s coming up.
“I have to go, [Name].”
He tried to get through you, lightly removing you of his way. He wasn’t a fan of using force on anyone, and he was a hater of using force on you.
Much more than a speakable argument, you were pushing each other closer or further from the door, having a staring contest and reciting all the things he had done in the past two days; except for his daily duties and with the upcoming birthday party of few students of Scarabia who happen to have a celebration in the same day, the number of tasks he was given was overwhelming.
“Stop it!” you protested, trying to push him back. “I am seriously worried about you! Please... take a break.”
Every time he was coming closer to the exit, you stepped back, blocking his way, bumping into him and having to try again.
“You know I have a lot of work to do,” he said, finally stepping back and giving you a break from trying to separate him from the door. “I can’t just give up all my duties, even if I would love a break.”
“I can do it for you,” you quickly offered. “But please, now, go to sleep and don’t you dare touch anything related to school or cleaning.”
...What a weird request.
When was the last time anyone told him to take a break?
He doesn’t remember.
But now, he can say it was recently, all thanks to you.
9. Promise.
It was really hard for him once all his hard work to keep a high position within the dorm students suddenly dropped after his overblot accident.
“[Name]...”
However, the thing he regretted the most was hurting you. Taking the whole dorm under his unique magic spell, the hypnosis also affected you, making you another servant of his. Even you weren’t the one he ordered a lot, you felt betrayed that even the friendship you two developed didn’t stop him from overblotting.
And if he knew that you would avoid him like fire after the accident, he would probably hesitate a lot.
His throat tightened as he saw you one day in the corridor, looking somehow lonely and tired. He dashed to you, beseeching you to talk to him.
“Sorry for asking, but, Jamil, you don’t hate me, right?” you asked with a pain in your voice. You couldn’t even look at his face, feeling the incomprehensible weight in your gaze. “I mean... Do you only act in front of me friendly? ...Like... with Kalim..?”
“No, no, no,” he protested quickly, making it almost sound like a plea. He gently grabbed your hands, praying that you won’t harshly jerk them back because of him. “I don’t hate you. I really like you. I mean every word I said to you.”
The feeling of release struck you like thunder, you took a big breath, your eyes watering. You slowly reached for his touch, finally ending in a hug.
Jamil ran his fingers through your hair, smelling a familiar, reassuring scent of yours. After a while, he whispered a question.
“So... could you please not avoid me anymore? I know it will be hard to bring up the same relationship we had, but... could you give me a second chance?”
“Okay. But under one condition,” you said, slightly backing off from him. Before he could wonder about the term you would require from him, you finished your thought. “You must be honest with me. I... don’t know what will I do if it all turned to be a play...”
“I will,” he replied, putting his whole heart in these two words. “I will always be honest with you. And won’t ever use my unique magic on you.”
You looked up at him, a small smile starting to rise and heart-throbbing more wilder with his words. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
10. Make him confess.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
Jamil appeared in front of you, almost like popping out of nowhere, as you were done with today’s lessons and slowly heading to your dorm. He caught up with you, changing his pace to match yours.
“I have no plans. I will be probably sleeping or something,” you answered honestly, shrugging and reminding yourself that you should finally hang out with some people from your class to make sure your social life isn’t all over dead.
You were walking in quietly before Jamil broke silence and spoke up again.
“Would you like to go somewhere?” he asked his voice only giving a hint of nervousness—it was nothing compared to the stress he felt inside. It was just a “yes or no” question, he knew that he will meet in future many amazing people like you and shouldn’t be stressed, but having someone so dear to him being asked for a meeting where he will try to finally out find his feeling... it is stressful.
“Hehe~ what, are you asking me on the date?” you teased, but much more than mocking, you were hoping for an answer. For the honest answer, he promised you.
“...And what if I am?” he asked, his voice a bit hushed, but steady.
You felt how heat was coming all the way up to your cheeks, although you tried your best not to let anything more, as if a blush wasn’t obvious enough, know how excited and spellbound you are.
“Then, your wish is my command.”
#.......i don't know how to feel about this#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#twst jamil#twst jamil x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland jamil x reader#twisted wonderland
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sick manager :)
-> feat. sugawara and kuroo
part 1 with bokuto, oikawa, and tsukishima here!
genre: fluff!
synopsis: y/n, the manager of her school’s volleyball team, finds herself sick after days of hard work, yet she still goes to school to support her team~
warnings: the reader is sick, and she passes out in kuroo’s scenario :))
pairings: sugawara x reader, kuroo x reader (separate!!)
total word count: 1.5k
a/n: OKAY SO HAHHSLKDFJ RIGHT WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I GOT SICK W/ A FEVER- I THINK I JINXED MYSELF OMG
i tried to make the scenario KINDA different, but with the same idea hehe
anYWAYS i’m so sorry if this makes like zero sense AHSLDKF- i wrote a lot while i was sick SO ill blame it on fever delusion if it flops 😌
OH AND THIS IS FOR @haikyuuheartsclub ty for reading the first one and asking for a part 2 hehe <33
You getting sick was inevitable.
You knew that you were bound to get sick with all of the work you had been doing and all of the late nights you spent preparing volleyball strategies, planning practice tournaments for your team, or studying until your eyesight blurred.
Being your school's volleyball team manager was not only hard, but it was ridiculously time consuming. Not to mention that you were bombarded with schoolwork, and you had exams coming up. Your stress levels had never been higher, and you were practically living off of caffeine with the amount of sleep you were always lacking.
So when you woke up with a sick feeling and the worst headache, you weren't completely surprised. Annoyed would have been a better word.
You knew that your team was getting ready for an important tournament, so you would have to stay extra long for practice. Groaning as you got ready, you weren't sure you could make it through the day.
You sluggishly pulled on a hoodie and brushed your teeth, taking note of how warm you felt as you washed your face. Grabbing a thermometer, you quickly measured your temperature.
100.4 Fahrenheit. Not too bad... just a low-grade fever. You tried to shrug it off and ignored how disgusting your body felt. You slung a backpack over your shoulder and walked out the door, heading to school.
You waited at the bus stop, shaking your head to try and make the sickness go away. When the bus arrived a while later, you plopped down onto the closest seat and you couldn’t stop your eyes from closing. You were just so... tired...
You drifted off to sleep, the soft sound of the bus driving across the road comforting you.
...
“Uh, Y/N?” Someone was shaking your side, and you immediately lifted your head from the bus window you were leaning on. It seemed like you just closed your eyes a second ago... where were you now?
"Mm?" you hummed sleepily, blinking slowly. You rubbed your eyes as the sunlight filtered through the window, and it made you feel warmer than you already felt.
"Hey, sorry to wake you, but we’re already at school." You looked outside, and he was right; you saw Karasuno in the near distance.
Your brain processed the fact that Sugawara, a third year from Karasuno’s volleyball team, was sitting next to you. You saw his blurred figure lean next to you, and he brushed some hair out of your face. His fingers grazed against your forehead, but he quickly froze.
"Y/N- Y/N! Why is your forehead so hot?" He studied your face with concerned eyes, noticing how tired you looked.
"Hm? No, it’s not. It wasn’t that high when I checked... probably the sunlight..." you mumbled, leaning on the back of your bus seat behind you. You put a hand on your forehead, and it confirmed that you were indeed burning up; it was considerably warmer than earlier in the morning. You groaned and got up.
"You don’t look too good, don't you think you should go home-" Sugawara started, but you interrupted him.
"No, you need your manager today, you guys have a game soon," you said, your tone tired but strict. Sugawara eyed you anxiously, but you waved him off. "I'll be fine," you reassured him. Grabbing your backpack, you got up from your seat, heading for the bus’ exit.
Woah.
You knew you were sick, but you didn't think you would be this dizzy. Everything seemed to sway to one side, and you put one arm on the seat of the bus, leaning on it for support. You rested your head on your arm, and you felt Sugawara’s arm wrapping around you for support.
“Alright, now you have no choice. You’re taking a break, whether you like it or not, clearly something’s not okay,” he told you, and you were too lightheaded to argue. You just nodded along and he helped you back into your seat.
You clutched your head as you tried to make everything go away. Sugawara went to talk to the bus driver in the background, and miraculously, the driver made an exception for you.
“We’re ahead of schedule anyways,” the bus driver reasoned. He turned the bus around, heading back towards your house.
“Okay, now that that’s done, you can sleep if you want to. You could probably use the rest, I can only imagine how tired you are...” Sugawara said softly, and you gave a small nod. You scooted further down into the seats, making enough space for the boy to sit next to you. He gladly obliged, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you drifting off to sleep. Your head subconsciously drifted onto his shoulder, but he didn’t mind.
“Hey, Koushi?” you mumbled, your voice coated with sleepiness.
“Yeah? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing... I just wanted to thank you.” Your eyes remained closed, and Sugawara couldn’t tell if the blush on your face was from your fever... or something else?
“You need to take breaks, you know. You work really hard, it’s a wonder you haven’t dropped dead yet,” he said, half jokingly. “Thank you.” You smiled, and finally fell asleep.
Kuroo found you in the classrooms; your head was down, and your headache was terrible. You were almost asleep; you were trying your best to stay awake, and you weren't sure how long you could keep it up.
He was walking down the halls, casually glancing into your classroom to see if you were finished, and he softly smiled at the sight of you.
"Tired, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, smirking as he tapped your shoulder.
"Hm?" You lifted your head up, surprised at the unexpected touch. "Oh- Kuroo, shut up," you replied, rolling your eyes as you stretched. He laughed and grabbed your backpack for you, slinging it over his own shoulder.
“Ready for practice?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, and the two of you walked to the gym.
Your head was killing you with every step you took, but you had no choice but to ignore it. You looked to the distance, trying to ease your headache. Kuroo’s voice was slowly melting into background noise.
Suddenly you froze and stopped walking, earning a curious glance from Kuroo. You were forgetting something...
“Wait- where’s my... backpack?” You spotted it on the boy next to you, and you shook your head. “Sorry, forgot that you had it,” you said, with a sheepish laugh.
“Something wrong?” he frowned. “You’re acting distracted... more distracted than usual, anyways.” You shook your head, deciding to keep your sickness to yourself.
“I’m good, just tired,” you assured him. He nodded slowly, and walked into the gym, you following close behind.
Only you, Kuroo, and the coaches were in the gym; you were early. You flashed a quick smile as you waved hello.
"Great, you guys are early. I have a couple strategies to discuss," the coach said, gesturing to a whiteboard in front of him. The two of you nodded, and he began to explain.
"Alright... if we're going to win this next match..." he started, but you couldn't make yourself pay attention. The only thing on your mind was how your head wouldn't stop hurting, everything seemed to echo, and just overall how sick you felt.
"What do you think, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction. You snapped out of your sleepy state at the sound of your name.
“Wha-” You blinked, looking around at all of the eyes on you. You tried to remember what the others were talking about... oh. Strategies. Right. "I just think we... we need to..." You looked at thr whiteboard, but you couldn't focus. You swayed to one side, blinking hard. The world really seemed like it was tilting to one side... "Woah, sorry-" you tried to say.
"Y/N?" You saw Kuroo reach out towards you as you slowly lowered down into a fetal position, resting your head on your knees. "Hey, Y/N? You okay?" You swallowed.
"Yea- yeah. Just... give me a second," you breathed. You felt Kuroo kneel down next to you, and you were right; someone's arm wrapped around you for support, and you knew it was Kuroo's. You knew you were safe as you lost consciousness, falling further into his arms.
...
You awoke, and the first thought was how bright the gym lights were... they weren't this bright before...
"Oh- Y/N! You're awake," Kuroo said, rushing over to you. He put the back of his hand on your forehead. "You're still burning..." he said with a frown.
"Sorry," you muttered. "I don't know, I've been sick all day and I guess I couldn’t handle it..."
"Why didn't you tell me you weren’t feeling well?" he asked, concern clear in his voice. You smiled softly.
"It wasn't important... besides I have manager duties to take care of," you said with a sigh.
"Not if I can help it." He picked you up in one swift motion bridal-style, smirking as you struggled to get down. "I'm not letting you down; I'm taking you home and getting you some proper medicine for this fever of yours. Health is more important than volleyball." You huffed and flopped into his arms in defeat.
"Fine." You leaned closer into Kuroo's chest, and he smiled, satisfied with your surrender.
"That's my girl." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile.
A/N: THESE WERE NOT THE BEST- I ADMIT BDHDDJNDJEW
hopefully these weren't too bad though-
haikyuu taglist: (send an ask to get added hehe) @floralkawa <3
MWAHH THANK YOU FOR READING!!
#hqradiostation#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#sugawara x reader#kuroo x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu comfort#kuroo tetsurou#sugawara koushi#kuroo fluff#kuroo scenarios#sugawara fluff#sugawara scenarios#kuroo tetsurou x reader#sugawara koushi x reader#kuroo headcanons#sugawara headcanons
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Please tell us what Stevie Y says after that Sidney-led Penguins murder of his Red Wings?
Here you go! 2k of phone sex smut under the cut featuring edging and (mean) dirty talk 😌
Sid was already hard when Steve’s name popped up on his phone display.
Wrecking a team 2-11 could do that to a guy.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to call.”
Steve snorted derisively. “I had some more urgent things to attend to than your boner.”
He didn’t sound especially pissed off but Sid knew that didn’t mean much when it came to Steve.
It wasn’t supposed to become a habit. It wasn’t even supposed to be a one-time thing.
Sid had acquired Steve’s phone number as a rookie and it had sat in his contacts, revered but untouched, for years. That was until Steve had called him once after a game in Detroit where the Pens got creamed. Sid had ended up at a hotel room downtown with Steve Yzerman between his knees with his mouth on Sid’s dick and he’d never looked back since.
“I don’t know, it feels pretty urgent to me,” Sid leered, groping himself through his sweats even though he knew Steve couldn’t see him.
“Are you touching yourself?”
He wasn’t exaggerating, either. Sid had held off on jerking off for days knowing that no matter how the game turned out, this would be following. The fact that Sid’s team had won by so great a margin was just the cherry on top of it all.
There was an edge to Steve’s voice that made Sid’s fingers pause where they had been creeping under his waistband. Sid liked to be punished when he lost… he also liked to be punished when he won. And as it turned out, Steve didn’t mind doing the punishing.
“What would you do if I were?”
“Hang up,” Steve said flatly.
“You would not.” Sid laughed. Steve had never hung up on him before despite Sid giving him multiple reasons to. A lot of weird shit came out of his mouth when he was horny. “You’d have to wait another month to get your rocks off if you did.”
“You think I don’t have other people I could be giving my time to right now?”
Sid pushed aside his twinge of annoyance. He knew Steve was pushing his buttons on purpose. That didn’t stop his words from getting under Sid’s skin. “Yeah, but how many of them would let you do whatever you wanted?”
There was a long pause. Steve was bossy and demanding and clearly reveled in the fact that Sid didn’t have any issues being used as a convenient dick.
Sid still liked him for some reason.
Maybe it was because he resented anything that came too easily.
Also because he was stupid.
“You really want to waste this? I’ve been saving it up just for you.”
That earned him a breathy laugh from the other end of the line. It probably shouldn’t have made Sid feel as good as it did. “What are you wearing?”
“Wow, original,” Sid teased. Steve asked the same questions every time as if he needed a cleanly drawn mental picture from which to undo Sid. “Sweats and t-shirt. No underwear.”
“Classy,” Steve said. “Rub yourself through them.” He obviously wasn’t in the mood for chit chat.
“Yes, sir.” That earned him another snort.
He rolled the heel of his palm over the head and down the underside, sucking in a shaky breath as he did. Sid wasn’t just hard, he was straining against the fabric of his sweats and had been since getting home and getting changed, anticipating Steve’s call.
The friction was delicious. His sweats added just the right edge of dryness to keep him from spilling all over himself immediately.
“How does it feel?”
“Good,” Sid sighed as he gave himself another slow stroke, tugging at his balls as he went. “My balls are so full I could probably come just like this.”
Steve made a considering noise, low and throaty in Sid’s ear. “Keep going.”
Sid did, keeping his fist loose to avoid giving himself fabric burn. It felt better than it had any right to, the warmth of his palm through the thin material and Steve’s steady breathing in his ear. Sid timed his strokes to the rhythm of it. Slow and measured.
“Tell me when you’re going to come,” Steve murmured. This way it felt as if Steve were right there in the room with him: Sid leaning back against the soft slope of his chest instead of the couch cushions and Steve’s big tanned hand wrapped around his cock instead of his own.
Everything about this was completely addictive. Sid squirmed in his seat, strung out between the urge to push up into his fist and shrink away. He let his panting grow loud as well as every other little sound he mde to make sure that Steve wouldn’t miss it.
It wasn’t long before Sid felt the telltale tightening in his abdomen.
“Steve,” Sid warned, tightening his fingers around the base of his cock. The thin fabric stretched tight over the tip had been stained dark with precome. He traced his thumb over it gently, shivering at the feeling.
“Stop touching yourself,” Steve said, and Sid pulled his hands away. His dick twitched pitifully against the fabric. Everything between his thighs felt slick and hot and sensitive. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No,” Sid said, pinching his thighs together to try and suppress some of the ache. “Easy peasy.”
Sid could feel Steve’s exasperation from the other end of the line. “Are you ready to go again?”
Sid nodded before remembering Steve wasn’t actually there. “Yes, please.”
“Go on then.”
Sid did, but he only got two strokes in before he had to stop, wincing. “I can’t,” he panted.
“Are you going to lose it that easily?” Steve asked, incredulous.
“No,” Sid said, feeling heat bloom in his face. “It just hurts. The fabric’s too rough,” he clarified.
“Take it out then,” Steve said with a tone that implied that Sid was interfering with his plans.
Sid eagerly pushed his sweats down to his ankles. His dick was a tender pink and straining up against his belly. It felt like if the wind blew the wrong way he may just come all over himself.
He sighed in relief as he wrapped his bare fist around his shaft after spitting into it to get things slick. He gave himself short, fast strokes, keeping his fist tight right under the head. Touching the tip would be a fast track to making sure he’d blow his load early and Sid was enjoying himself way too much. He didn’t even have to think about making noise now; the sounds were coming out of him whether he wanted them to or not.
It would probably unnerve some people to jerk it to the sound of heavy breathing at the other end of the line. But to Sid, it was more than that. He had Steve’s undivided attention, as much of it as he wanted, for however long he could keep himself from coming.
He could feel it building now, an indulgent heat pooling in between his thighs. If he closed his eyes he could pretend that Steve was here, his steady gaze roaming all over Sid’s body as he got himself close. He wondered if on nights like these Steve fantasised about what it would be like to have Sid on his team, scoring for him on and off the ice.
He must have gotten too loud because Steve’s voice came through the speaker, gravelly and not entirely unaffected. “Stop.”
Sid groaned dramatically as he let go of himself. “You’re such a dick.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Sid looked down at himself. There was a dark patch in the centre of his chest where he’d sweated through his shirt and his thighs had begun to tremble like he’d just finished a punishing workout.
“Play with your nipples.”
Sid’s hand twitched in his lap. He wanted to, but– “You know how sensitive they are.”
“Well, if you don’t think you can handle it I guess you don’t have to…”
Sid should have probably known better at this point but he didn’t care. It was far more rewarding to snake his hand up under his t-shirt and feel the zing of sensation ripple down his spine to his dick as he pinched at himself.
“Does that feel good?” Steve asked. His voice had a raw edge to it now. As if he were the one getting meticulously plucked apart.
“You know it does.” It was Steve’s fault that Sid’s chest was as sensitive as he was. Steve liked to play with Sid’s nipples when he was getting close to nutting and had managed to Pavlovian condition him into coming on command like some kind of horny lab rat.
“Go back to your cock,” Steve instructed just when Sid was starting to worry he’d blow his load.
He circled his fist around himself loosely. His balls were so tight that the skin had a sheen to it. One wrong move and he might go off like a rocket.
"Are you touching yourself?"
"Yes," Sid said through gritted teeth.
“Not hard enough, clearly.”
Sid’s hips flexed, wanting exactly that. “I can't, I'll come.”
“Harder, Sid.”
Sid bit out a curse and sped up his strokes, tugging on his cock mercilessly. As he predicted, the muscles in his core began to clench. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m going to come,” Sid moaned, gripping the base of his cock hard as it pulsed, ready to spill over.
“Stop.”
Sid moaned again, mournfully, his dick twitching against his abdomen. His body felt like one throbbing pulse, tension drawing tighter and tighter.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Steve.” He felt perilously close to coming without a hand on him.
“Breathe.” Steve’s voice was gentle, almost coddling. “You’re doing a good job.”
Sid closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He could hear Steve doing the same at the other end of the line, falling into sync.
When he felt more under control he peeled open his eyes. His dick looked good like this: fat, red and teased till it was aching. The skin was so slick. He almost wished that they were doing this over Zoom so that Steve could see. Almost. There was something illicit about having Steve's gravelly voice right in his ear giving him orders that could just not be replicated over any other media.
“Touch yourself–lightly, just with two fingers along the underside.”
He did just that, dragging the tips of his fingers along the sensitive skin, inspiring a full-body tingle.
“Good boy. Now stroke yourself, slowly.”
Sid moaned wholeheartedly when he closed his fist around himself. He worked himself up slowly, Steve murmuring in his ear the entire time. Far too sweetly for what he was doing to Sid. The slick sounds were loud enough to nearly drown him out. The air in the room was thick with the smell of sex and heat.
This time when Steve told him to stop touching himself it hurt. Sid whined at the loss. He couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed about it. His hips flexed up, fucking the empty air, his body beyond his own control.
“Who tells you where to come?”
“You do,” Sid said, without much thought. Tremors ran up and down his thighs and through his stomach. There was a slick trail of precome creeping slowly down the crease of his hip.
“Why?”
“I–” Sid couldn’t finish, too distracted by the need to come.
Steve finished his sentence for him. “You don’t have enough control. You need someone to tell you when you're allowed to touch your big dumb cock or else you'd be doing it all the time.”
Sid bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. With Sid as close as he was, the dirty talk was a cheap shot.
“If you could come anywhere right now, where would you?”
"In your mouth," Sid said. He didn’t even have to think about it. If Sid could come in Steve’s soft, pink mouth for the rest of his life he’d be happy.
"Do you think you deserve that?"
The question made a delicious, nervous thrill bubble up inside Sid’s chest. "Yes." He was getting a good rhythm going, his hips twitching up into his slick fist with every pull. Right now his hand felt better than any hole he’d ever fucked. "I just stuck it up your team's ass, I deserve to come wherever I want."
"Stop."
This time Sid felt like crying. In fact, he was pretty sure he was already tearing up.
"No so much of a hotshot now."
“I’m just doing what you asked.”
“You’re being a brat,” Steve said flatly. A wave of molten heat rolled through him from head to toe. “Do you think brats deserve to come?”
“Please, Steve, I want to come so bad.”
Steve’s breath rasped shakily in his ear. He heard the telltale sound of fabric rustling coming from the other end of the line. Steve wasn’t impervious. “Sidney–”
“Please, I know you want me to. The next time you’ll get to feel it all over you.”
“Gosh, Sid.” He could really hear the hitch in Steve’s voice now. “Do it. Touch yourself.”
“Can I come?”
“Yes,” Steve’s breath was coming in quick, excited hitches. Sid could make out the faint slapping sound of Steve touching himself in time to Sid through the line.
That’s what finally pushed him over the edge.
Sid’s back arched, thrusting up into his first, his grip growing slick and warm as he spilt all over himself.
It just kept coming. So did Steve’s laboured breathing. Sid could tell the moment his breath peaked and he came in his own hand with a series of soft, hot sounds. It was almost enough to make Sid want to go again even as his poor sore cock throbbed in protest.
“Do you feel better now?” Sid asked when Steve was still trying to catch his breath.
There was a long pause where Sid thought Steve might make a joke and deny it, but instead, he said, "Yes, thank you." With a sincerity that Sid hadn't expected.
"I guess I'll see you in a month then." Sid held off on saying goodbye. He didn't know what it was he wanted to hear from Steve, but he was hoping for something. A month was a long time to wait.
"Sid," Steve started.
Sid sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Yeah?"
For a moment Sid thought that something else might be coming. The something he wanted but couldn't put his finger on.
What he got instead was: "good night."
"See ya," Sid said before hanging up. he let his head fall with a heavy thud back against the sofa, wincing at just how hard it was.
He felt clammy and chilled, and if he was being completely honest, kind of nasty but not in the fun way. No matter how many times they did this it always shocked him just how great he felt in the moment versus just how unsatisfied he felt after.
He peeled himself off the couch and put himself in the shower: the place where he came up with all of his best ideas.
He'd get to see Steve in person soon and maybe even spend the night. He was sure he'd be able to get this all figured out by then. Right?
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© banner credit: thank you to the love of my life @suhdreams for making this banner for me 🥺💘 ➸ summary: when people say ‘not all men’, they’re actually right. kim mingyu, your best friend, would never disappoint you. especially not in the bedroom. ➸ genre: pwp 😌 ➸ pairing: best friend!mingyu x reader ➸ warning: dirty talk, slight dumbification, heavy petting, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl), cream pie, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yn is really horny? ➸ w.c: 3.2k ➸ tags: you can all thank @risquewonu for this <333
➸ author’s note: ahh, i’m sorry this took me so long! i didn’t mean to write this much, but what the smuth wants, the smuth gets. also, i want to thank you all for 100 followers! i’ll make a separate post to properly thank you all, but i am!!! baffled!!! i really appreciate the support ;u; love you guys!
If there are two things in this world that you are absolutely certain of, they are: 1) Men ain’t shit, and 2) with the exception of Kim Mingyu. Knowing this information doesn’t really benefit you in any way. You still go out on Tinder dates that leave you high and dry 15 minutes after taking you home. And Kim Mingyu is still your very platonic best friend, who seems to be reliable in every single way except perhaps in the one way you need most desperately.
But for all you know, he could be just like every other male in bed. He couldn’t be unbelievably handsome, the most thoughtful, caring person you know, and a sex god; it just wouldn’t be fair! No, it is much easier to convince yourself that Mingyu’s perfection only extended to being a best friend, if only for your peace of mind. Otherwise, you’d have to live with the possibility that the only person who can give you sweet release is the only one you’re technically not supposed to fuck.
For reasons that seem to become annoyingly hazy every time you lie down next to him on his bed, just as you are at this moment.
The two of you often end nights out like this, scrolling through one another’s TikTok’s until the wee hours of the morning, laughing loudly until his neighbors threaten to file a noise complaint. As someone who has claimed him as your best friend for three years, you know you’re supposed to be used to the smell of the musky cologne that clings onto his sheets and the feeling of his warm body as he leans closer to show you his For You Page. But lately, it seems harder and harder to fight off the warmth that pulses straight to your core whenever he does anything as simple as laugh, making you shiver when his breath tickles the side of your neck.
God, you just really need to get laid properly. You lick your dry lips and try to remind yourself that you have no idea if Mingyu would even be able to satisfy you. Though you do have to admit you couldn’t imagine any situation where the boy isn’t overly generous and eager to please-- No! Just watch the damn TikToks!
“Hey, you good?” Mingyu suddenly asks, nudging your side. “Why aren’t you laughing? ‘His package needs to come in the fe-mail’! That one’s gold!”
You let out a snort. Leave it to Mingyu to bring you back to reality with one line. Even when you don’t say a word, he knows exactly what you need in a moment, which in this case is a reminder that he’s your very dorky friend. “Shut up, that’s so stupid,” you say, but you can’t help but laugh along with him when it replays.
“Aha, you laughed though.” Satisfied with your response he scrolls down to a video of a girl smiling suggestively into the camera. She points to the caption that says ‘If all the boys that made me cum were in my room with me right now, I would…’ Suddenly, the camera pans and she looks at the screen tiredly. The caption now read as ‘Be alone. Men are trash’.
At this, you bust out with a howl of laughter, clutching at your stomach. It was kind of sad, but it was good to know you weren’t alone in this world. All the while, Mingyu stares at you with an eyebrow raised. Once you calm down, you meet his amused gaze. “What are you looking at?”
“You thought it was that funny, huh? It’s not even that accurate,” he says teasingly.
You roll your eyes. “Um, yeah it is. I’ve never met a man who could make me cum, and clearly many other people can relate. This video has 1.4k likes!”
Mingyu quickly puts his phone down and pouts. “Nu uh! Not all guys are that incompetent!”
“Men are such babies,” you sigh. “They are that incompetent! You know how many dates I went to last semester, right? Not one of them made me cum!”
“Okay, I told you before you even went on those dates that those guys weren’t worth your time.” Mingyu waves his hand dismissively. “For your information, I have made sure that all the ladies that I’ve taken to the bedroom had at least one orgasm. At least!”
“Mingyu, sweetie,” you coo, patting his cheek as if to comfort him. “They were all faking it, because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Right? They all had to have faked it. You try to tell yourself this, try to reign in the last bit of sanity you have before your mind wanders off to anywhere inappropriate.
Your best friend now props himself up so that you could properly see the smirk plastered across his annoyingly chiseled features. “You’re so sure, huh? I bet I could make you cum multiple times. Easily.”
Your mouth falls open in shock. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to taunt each other like this, but you have also never been in such a vulnerable mood. It’s the type of mood that has your heart racing impossibly fast, the type of mood that has your panties pathetically damp from just one sentence. You blink, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You know it’s too late, though; your imagination is already flashing through scenes of your deepest desires, all being fulfilled by the man in front of you. But Mingyu is only joking, so you do what you can to continue playing along and pretend like you don’t want him to just fuck you into the mattress until you were drooling into his sheets.
“I-I seriously doubt that!” you say, but there is no conviction in your voice. Clearing your throat, you try adding, “Dude, I’ve literally seen you fall down a flight of stairs when you were sober. And we were going up. Kinda hard to imagine that you’ll know how to fuck me to an orgasm when you can’t even walk right.”
Now you’re just lying through your teeth, but you want to hold off the inevitable moment that Mingyu discovers your apparent arousal for as long as possible. The last thing you need right now is for him to laugh in your face.
Mingyu chuckles, then suddenly shifts so that his arms are placed on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him. To his surprise, you do nothing to push him off like you usually do at this point. Still, he doesn’t plan on being the first to back off, so he continues his little game, intent on winning. “See, this is why you can’t find a guy who can satisfy you. You clearly don’t know what to look for.” He leans down until the tip of his nose grazes yours. For good measure, he drops his voice an octave and says, “You’ll be the one who can’t walk right when I’m done with you.”
Perplexingly, his shameless flirting doesn’t make you move as he predicted. Nor does it make you look annoyed. Instead, you look up at him with eyes that are unmistakably glazed over with something he didn’t quite expect to see: pure lust. It immediately sends a rush of blood down to his cock. He blinks. Oh. So this is where the night is going. He only falters for a moment, but he soon flashes a breathtaking smile down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously.
It isn’t like he’s never thought about it before; he had just assumed that once you started calling him your best friend, you were also lowkey telling him that sex was off the table. And it wasn’t like he minded, because he definitely liked being by your side knowing it was fully okay to be himself since you were obligated to love him regardless. Plus there was just something about you that made him want to take care of you and if being your best friend was the only way he could do it, then that had been fine by him. But now that he knows that he can take care of you in another way, in the way that he sometimes found himself yearning for on lonely nights, he is all too eager to break free of the unspoken boundaries between the two of you.
“And what am I looking for?” you whisper.
“It seems like you’re looking for me, baby,” he responds softly, before pressing a kiss where your jaw meets your neck. He slowly drags his lips down the side of your neck, and revels in how it already has you pressing your legs together. “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said those guys didn’t make you cum, huh? Is that why you’re already so fucking worked up? You want to cum that badly?”
You nod wordlessly, not quite ready for Mingyu to hear the desperate whine that would surely leave your lips as he continues pressing wet kisses along your skin. You opt to simply thread your fingers in his hair and tug hard enough to show your impatience. It seems to trigger something in him; all in an instant, your best friend’s soft lips clash against your own, his tongue easily sliding into your mouth, all the while while his hand reaches down to grab one of your thighs. He squeezes it teasingly before pushing it outwards, which causes the mini skirt you’re wearing to bunch up around your waist, revealing your panties and how they cling to your pussy like a second skin.
“M-mingyu!” you squeak into his lips when you feel his fingers tentatively rub small circles into the wet spot. He nips at your lip harshly as he starts to rub more deliberately, the flimsy fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction against your clit. “H-hah! Yes, o-oh my god!”
“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby girl,” he chuckles, but he knows he isn’t one to talk while his cock is half hard just from hearing the way you moan his name. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re not leaving this room until your little pussy cums nice and hard on my cock.”
“Ngh!-- yes p-please! Please, Mingyu,” you beg mindlessly. Your eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration. Despite your best friend’s promises, you are still hesitant to hold out any hope for anything more than what you’re accustomed to, so you try to take as much as you can while it lasts. However, in your lustful daze, you had forgotten that if Kim Mingyu is anything, he is a man of his word.
You let out a high-pitched moan when his fingers suddenly grind harsh circles into your clit, more surprised than anything else that he even knew where to find it. “But first,” he says, licking his lips, “you’re going to be a good girl and cum just like this. Right into your filthy little panties. Can you do that for me, baby?”
He takes your drawn out whine as a response, and continues to rub relentlessly over your hardened clit until your legs begin to shake. That’s when he shoves the soaked material of your underwear to the side and pinches the bud. Hard.
He rolls your clit between the pads of his fingertips over and over, sending jolts of electric pleasure all the way to your toes. It causes them to curl, all the while you feel the heat simmering in your lower abdomen finally coil tighter and tighter. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you chant, the words coming out slurred like you’re a teenager who’s gotten drunk from one sip of champagne. “M-mingyu-- mmh! I t-think I’m going to--!”
A loud cry leaves your lips the moment the coil snaps, and you nearly tear up from how much better it feels to finally cum on someone else’s fingers, especially Mingyu’s long, thick digits. He soothingly slides them through your drenched folds, mesmerized by how much wetness now covered his hand. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. Once your body slumps back into the mattress, he brings his fingers up to see how they glisten in the light. “We’ve barely even started and look at what the mess you’ve already made. You must have been waiting so long for me to fuck you, huh?”
Not even your post-orgasm buzz can keep you from getting irked by Mingyu’s cockiness, which is why you reach your own hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this,” you say with a sly grin of your own. He watches you, jaw clenched, as you swiftly pop the button of his pants open and slip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear to take hold of his fully hardened member.
It feels warm and heavy in your palm, which can barely wrap around the girth. You bite your lip, your pussy greedily clenching around nothing at the thought of how good it would stretch you out.
“I should have known you’d be a fucking tease,” Mingyu rasps. His hips buck into your hand involuntarily, and his smile returns when he notices how the movement makes you whimper in anticipation.
There is a beat of silence when you and Mingyu meet eyes before the both of you begin undressing each other as fast as you can, haphazardly tugging off both your shirts, his pants, and your pesky undergarments. Once he’s tossed aside your soiled panties, he immediately presses your thighs apart to get a full view of your sopping cunt. “So pretty,” he mumbles to himself, spreading the lips apart with his fingers. His member throbs at the sight, the tip leaking precum when he sees how your pussy clenches in anticipation. “I bet it’s going to look even prettier when it’s taking my fat cock, don’t you think?”
The two of you watch in awe as Mingyu starts to sink into your entrance, a garbled moan leaving your lips when the tip alone already has you feeling so full. “Mingyu, h-how is-- ooh!-- your d-dick soo-- f-fucking big? A-Ah!” It takes a good while for you to finish your sentence as each of Mingyu’s shallow thrusts leave you gasping for air. By the time he bottoms out, the both of you are panting hard, both engrossed by how snugly his cock fits in your walls.
“Shit, if I had known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” Mingyu groans. He slowly drags his member out of you, letting you feel every inch of him before he surges forward into a feverish pace that already has his bed frame creaking loudly. He is definitely getting a noise complaint from his grumpy neighbors tonight. But seeing you underneath him like this, lips parted and legs spread, definitely makes it difficult to care about anything other than the desire to hear more of your needy cries. “Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you like how my cock fills your little pussy?”
“It fuh--!--ngh, feels s-soo good,” Having already came once, your sensitivity is on overload, and each rough thrust of Mingyu’s hips, each crude slap of his skin against yours, is enough to drive you closer and closer to delirium. “Mmh-- please, Mingyu! F-fuck me so deep!”
“Anything for my little cockslut.” He moves quickly to kneel between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your knees to keep them open as he continues to pound into you. The new position instantly makes you keen loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his member brush against your cervix.
“Fuuuuck,” you sob and clutch at the sheets. His grip on your legs tightens and he angles his hips so that he hits that spot every time, rendering you completely incoherent. You want to beg him to fuck you like this forever, to tell him you’d do anything to feel his cock fuck you open every night, but you can only babble, unable to comprehend anything that isn’t the insatiable thirst burning within you.
“Damn baby, did I fuck you stupid?” Seeing you so drunk on his cock, he wonders how anyone could ever fuck you without wanting to see you cum over and over again. His hair falls over his eyes as he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his hot skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. He grits his teeth when he feels how tightly your walls grip onto him.“Shit-- you must want me to make you cum again, baby girl. Your little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”
“H-hah, y-yes! Yes, please god, Mingyu, I want to c-cum again. P-please let me cum,” you beg, practically writhing as you pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts. Without any hesitation, Mingyu brings down his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit, causing your body to seize up suddenly. “A-Aah Mingyu! I’m--!” The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching off the mattress, head thrown back in a silent scream. Wave after wave of pleasure continuously washes over you, seemingly unending, unlike any orgasm you ever thought possible.
“That’s right baby girl, get my cock nice and wet,” Mingyu growls. He fucks you through your release as he sloppily chases his own, not too far behind with how your walls are pulsing around him. He makes sure his cock is deep inside you and stills his hips when fills you with his hot cum. “Fuck, this pussy was fucking made for me.”
Just as you think you’ve finally come down from your high, he pulls out of you and he shifts to lower himself to place his mouth on your spent pussy. “M-mingyu!”
You squirm and half-heartedly try to shove his head away, far too sensitive to have his tongue licking into your leaking entrance, but Mingyu is persistent. He pushes your legs to your chest to keep you from squeezing them close, and hums when he tastes the hot mixture of your and his own cum on his lips. The way he slurps and sucks at your folds is absolutely sinful as he eats you out like you’re the most delectable treat. It almost hurts to feel so much ecstasy at once, but it still leaves you mewling for more, unable to get enough of the boy.
Your third orgasm ripples over you when he suddenly scrapes his teeth over your abused clit, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek as you weakly shake against his mouth.
Mingyu is smiling when he pulls away, looking slightly ridiculous with how his lips still glisten with cum. You tiredly slump back into his pillows, eyes already drooping close. “What is it?”
“I told you I could do it~” he says proudly. He goes to grab some tissues from the bedside table so that he could start cleaning you up, giggling all the while. It really is unfair how he could look so cute moments after railing you into another dimension.
You groan. You’re never going to hear the end of this.
#seventeen smut#mingyu smut#seventeen scenarios#mingyu scenarios#mingyu fanfic#svt smut#m:kmg#l:os#g:pwp#listen tumblr it would be fantastic if this worked in the tags the first time#pretty pls
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Ready Player 01 | JJK x Reader | 🔞❤️☁️
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: dystopia!AU, former Game developer!Jk, former pro gamer!JK, former IT specialist!Reader, former programmer!Reader, romance, Smut, slight cyberpunk elements
Warnings/tags: injustice, forcefully controlled public, violence (police/government officials against citizens), unfair powerplay, interrogation, tech talk, Jungkook be antisocial as FUCK but so is the reader lmao wbk, fear of physical contact (Haphephobia), past trauma and mentions of a bad childhood, insomnia, crime, smut because yes it’s me hello my content isn't kiddy-proof in the first place what yall want from me I'm not sure, but that’s waaY at the end ya know, friends to lovers, a slightly sassy AI but we love her, reader struggles with emotions, I mean same tbh, they're both so sweet tho I cant, not proofread because let me live
Summary: there’s a war going on; silent, but it’s there. Media has been strictly become controlled and regulated- to the point of making it illegal to own a TV or phone with internet access without a valid license. But there’s always some people that will try to break free from the controlling force.
"-a new age. This is a new year. And remember; we're doing this for the greater good. Until tomorrow." The news reporter stops talking after she somberly looks somewhere behind the camera that is pointed at her.
Your room is dark- the TV brightness on it's lowest setting so you can see what's going on- but outside, no one can see the light shining in your tiny apartment. Investing in blackout curtains had really paid off at the end of the day.
You don't want to get caught.
There's an announcement van driving past your window; the tiny slits in your curtains where the light from outside can creep its way inside brightening a bit as the headlights pass your windows. Something is spoken, and by now everyone knows the routine speech.
"Electricity will be shut down in five minutes. We advice to save all progress immediately- and we wish a good nights rest. Electricity will be shut down in five minutes..-" It repeats, over and over, counting down the minutes. You slowly move into your kitchen, opening one of the loose floor tiles to turn on your own emergency electricity system. With well practiced movements you close the tile again, moving the rug over it as you walk back into your living room, swiftly sliding the TV behind your wardrobe to make it disappear. As if on cue; there's a knock at your door.
The same as always. Routine. Two times, loud and clear. You don't even have to look through the peephole to know what awaits behind it.
"Yes?" You ask, rubbing your eyes as if you had been already asleep. The officer behind the door nods at you shortly, a mild smile on his face as he looks down at you.
"We didn't mean to wake you miss. Just routine, as usual." He says, peeking into your apartment to look for any electronics still running. It's pitch black however- so he simply nods, as his colleague notes something into his tablet. "We wish a good nights rest miss. Again, sorry for intruding." He apologizes, and you nod, closing the door.
Only when the street lights turn dark, do you move from your bed.
"Creator." The AI voice chimes up, her voice greeting you as as you lift the tile on the floor again- your phone connecting to the AI to show information you instantly decode and note down inside your head. "Player01 has just connected." The voice states, and you sit down on your cold kitchen flooring, smiling a little. "He has sent a message. Would you like me to play it?" The voice asks, and you take a deep breath.
"Yes." You say, and there's a small sound indicating the start of the voice message. A male voice is head.
"Hey, whats up?" He asks, and you can hear something in the background- maybe an empty can or something similar. "I uh.. I'm on my way. Should I bring anything? Ah wait, I know the answer to that.." He says, chuckling at the end of his sentence, and you can hear him zip up his jacket as he moves around. "Yeah uh.. just text or something, I'll bring stuff over. Can't have you starve." He ends, and the AI speaks up again.
"Would you like to repeat the message?" She asks, and you shake your head at her; a signal the artificial intelligence has come to detect quite well. "Should I archive it?" She questions again, and this time, you nod- something your invisible assistant can pick up due to motion sensoring.
"Send him a message." You say. "Tell him: I only need you. Get yourself here in one piece and I'm happy. And I'm very capable of taking care of myself." You state, and your phone shows a small loading message- indicating that the voice is doing as you said. It chimes up after a moment. "Thanks Kana." You say.
"No problem creator. Would you like for me to run through the databases now?" She asks, and you nod, a smile on your face. "Database search in progress. Estimated time: sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds." You huff out a breath as you look at the tiny display on your arm; tiny, yet powerful as it's your way of keeping Kana- your AI assistent- close at all times. Tonight, there would seem to be a lot to dig through.
They really added a lot of content these days.
It's not the door that makes you notice that there's a visitor after a while- He never uses it anyways for some reason. You're sitting on your kitchen floor with a small cup of tea in your hands- kept hot inside a slightly beaten-looking thermos can since you can't use to water boiler at night. Using anything other than Kana would cause a spike the police would be sure to notice; and you're not ready to get caught yet.
Not tonight.
It's a boy who, after a moment, opens the unclosed kitchen window to climb in; his combat boots getting a little snow and dirt from the outside into your apartment as his 80's looking jacket makes distinctive noises as it brushes against the sides of your window. His blonde hair has grown out a bit these days you notice- the roots clearly showing. It's a little wet and slightly curly from the moisture. It must be snowing outside- or maybe it had. You couldn't know for sure.
You never left your apartment.
He closes the window after slipping on the tiles inside a little, the plastic bags noisy as he almost drops them- sheepishly taking off his boots as he smiles at you. His socks are different from one another- but that's another thing so distinctive and just so.. him. He's his own person, always has been; it's what brought you two together, after all. You both stood out against the 'regular public' these days; with his brightly almost white-bleached hair he was like an albino in a sea of crows.
But you knew he didn't need that to stand out to you.
You can still remember the first few times the boy in front of you has visited you; the times where he had just dyed his hair to rebel out, or when he pierced your ears in exchange for you to do it to him as well. It was like you had made a blood pact in your kitchen that night- you had somehow gotten closer, formed a little more than just a simple companionship in order to riot against the law. He began growing close. Gave you a nickname. Began calling you his player 2. Began calling you his 'ace'. He had explained that he thought of it from memories of his gaming days; the two fighting teams always called red and blue, and one of his favorite weapons having that nickname- simply because it always 'saved his ass last minute'. He had rambled on about his last tournament after that, eyes sparkling and cheeks round from cold noodles.
You had become friends.
"hey." He says after sitting close across from you on the cold floor; the opened tile and Kana's core exposed to you two, the only source of light apart from your bracelet. The colorful LED's paint marks on his face and illuminate his features to you; but it does the same to you from his point of view. It's a familiar sight. "How are you?" He asks, almost shyly, but you know that's not what's bothering him.
"Hey Jungkook." You simply say with the hint of a smile, as you answer him. "Haven't slept well these days but, what's new I guess." You chuckle, and Jungkook smiles too- though a glimpse of concern is still shown your way. He knows however that forcing you to sleep won't do much good- your insomnia was too bad to really conquer it in a day or two just by taking naps.
And also; who was he to talk about solving personal issues.
"Have you seen the most recent reports?" You ask him, and the boy somberly shakes his head.
"I was unable to." He states. "They were patrolling close to my apartment complex because there had been someone reporting a Glitcher today." A 'glitcher'- a slang word now commonly used for people like Jungkook and you. People who went against the nightly routines, people who tried to trick the system by using electricity at night, owning media, consuming it, or dealing with it. It somehow became worse than underground drugs. "They pulled him out at around twelve or so- but they seemed too on edge the entire day, so I didn't risk it." He says, and you nod. Jungkook had always been a very good person when it came to calculating risk versus reward. He was good at reading people too- even though he didn't interact much, he got out of his apartment a lot more than you did. "Anything important?" He asks, and you shrug.
"There was a report that China and Japan were still on edge- with the chinese government arguing that they would soon start with 'more drastic measures to get things under proper control', whatever that means." You say, and Jungkooks brows furrow as he starts to pick on the skin of his jaw. "Let's just hope the flood doesn't throw us under the sea as well if it escalates I guess.." You say, and the boy across from you nods.
"Creator." Kana's voice chimes up, making Jungkook look up before remembering that the only source would be your bracelet, which you look at as well. "My scan of your body shows that you have not consumed a sufficient amount of calories today. I recommend a meal in the next five to eight minutes to avoid malnutrition." She says, and you groan. "I take this as a form of verbal communication. Running data search..." She says, as Jungkook looks at you; thoroughly amused by the teasing banter between the AI and his friend. "My data search concludes that you are annoyed, creator. I have only stated a fact however-" She continues, and Jungkook steps in.
"I've brought some leftovers from my dinner today we can eat." He says, pulling out some plastic containers as he moves to get proper cutlery out of your drawers. He makes sure to push them towards you, making sure to nod with a smile as you nod and thank him a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. You know I love you too much to let you starve!" He states with a grin, bunny teeth on full display as bitterness creeps up your throat- something you make sure to swallow down before beginning to eat.
Because the kind of love he's talking about right now, is not the kind of love you want him to feel for you.
"You forgot to give it a proper validation there-" He points out as you type away. "Otherwise it will just run instantly, and everything at once. That could crash older systems, and we know that V95 uses an older laptop, so we should take that into account." He says, and you nod, clicking back to the spot Jungkook is talking about.
This is what you're both good for.
Writing code for you had always been something you did with a passion- simply because you were good at it. Numbers and short phrases were something you could remember with ease; but you never had to think much about the visual aspect of programs in your department back when you were able to work for a simple programming company. You had simply always been tasked to program security systems and automatically updating firmware, or simple AI's for factory robots. Jungkook however had been all about the visuals; he had been programming games after all. That's why you two fit so well together in this scene. Whenever he would be in complete awe of the broad knowledge you had about official guidelines and security breaches, of staying undetected and unseen while still gaining as much as possible from every single line of code, he could always throw in his input to make sure the program you were both writing and updating for the glitch community was easy to use and simple enough so it could run smoothly on as many systems as possible. Be it phone, laptops, PC's- you two made it possible.
This program was connecting Glitchers all over the globe- and with yours and Jungkooks knowledge, you made it almost invisible. And even if it was somehow detected; there was no possible way to track down any of it's users.
The fact that you had to hide a simple program from the government made you sigh.
"Okay. Yeah I think that fixed the bug." He says, and looks at your arm- at Kana. "Oh, by the way, Kana?" he asks, and the chime gives him the cue to talk. "I heard you had a bug-fix too recently." He says, and the AI chimes again.
"I did, Player01." The AI answers. "The addition of code to my current program has proven to significantly increase my ability to observe and save more data." The female voice answers, and Jungkook grins. "You are happy, Player01." She states, and he nods.
"I am." He says.
"Why is that?" The AI asks, and Jungkook shrugs.
"I'm just happy you're doing well. Someone has to take care of ace when I'm not close by, yeah?" He states, and you try not to react to it. Jungkook is by now used to your more stoic expression; you're not too emotional and barely let things get under your skin. You've been hurt before, he knows this even if you never told him- he can see it in the way you hide inside the safety of your home, how you're so cold on the outside but still clinging onto him. Sometimes he wishes he could touch you; run his hand over your head to ruffle your hair like in those cheesy movies, hold your hand, or simply give you some reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back whenever you struggle.
But he's got his own demons, and they love clinging onto him just as much.
"V95 has connected to voice chat. Would you like to talk to him?" Kana states, ripping him out of his thoughts as he watches you nod.
"JK? Y/N?" A deep voice asks.
"We're here. Heard there was a raid close to you?" Jungkook asks, and he can see you grow a bit more serious at that. "Are you okay?" He adds, and V answers, although quite.. tired?
"I'm good. They got Jimin though." He states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stand up, frustrated. Jungkook knows you're trying to calm down by pacing. He doesn't mind. "They didn't officially arrest him, took him for 'questioning' though. We know what that's about." He states somberly, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"Jimin is a master manipulator V. He'll get himself out of it, I'm sure." Jungkook tries to reassure, but it doesn't gain him much than a hum from Taehyung on the other end of the line. "What about Sleeper?" He asks, and a chuckle is heard.
"He's been checking the videofeed from inside the past few nights. He said he's send some of the big bites to Ace though?" He says, and Jungkook looks over at your form.
"Yeah I've seen it." You simply say, though Jungkook grows uncomfortable with the way you're suddenly standing there. You're a little hunched, biting the skin on your thumb as you look at the tiles as if they suddenly began to move. He knows himself that things inside the 'rehabilitation centers' weren't all that nice to see- but you rarely ever displayed so much distress over it. "Let's just hope Jimin get's his ass out of this situation. We can't afford to loose him." You say, and V stays silent before he sighs.
"Yeah. I tell sleeper you've seen the stuff. Oh, and our prince charming has asked for a date with Ace. Again." Taehyung chuckles, and you groan- while Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw. Kim Seokjin was a very good asset to the team; with connections reaching deep inside the government and his position as a former lawyer- but he still hated his guts.
You didn't need to waste your time dating. You were totally capable of taking care of yourself, you had even said it personally! And for anything else Jungkook would provide for you. You didn't need anyone else than him.
He was totally not jealous of him.
"Can he not use our underground connections for that circus?" You say. "I don't even go grocery shopping, why would I want to go on a fucking date?" You mumble, sitting down next to Jungkook as you take a spoonful of rice. Jungkook feels a weird sense of satisfaction about the situation.
"Who knows." Taehyung says. "Alright, 10 Minute mark- I'll hear from you two soon. Take care." He says, and you both say your goodbyes before the line goes silent.
Although Jungkook hates physical contact, he likes keeping you close.
His heart is melting like chocolate as he notes the way your hand grips his jacket tightly as the two of you walk through town to get your license renewed- a way of holding onto him, and he somehow wishes it could be his hand. He knows yours would fit so perfectly in his, and yet he can't bring himself to do it.
His body is not cooperating.
He remembers vividly how his fear had developed; with his father and mother both being dramatically overworked and overwhelmed with having a kid at a young age, they had no idea how to make a child behave. Every second touch would bruise, every time he had been held would be force.
And at some point, he started to dislike physical touch completely.
It had just been like his growing interest in freelance climbing- the way he would walk and jump high over the heads of unsuspecting people, away from all judgemental gazes they'd throw his way for behaving the way he did. Only when the wind could hit him freely, only when he couldn't make out faces of anyone down below, only when he was high up- that was when he felt safe. The ground below had nothing of interest for him, no point in going down, as his apartment was located on the top floor of the complex. Jungkook never took the elevator, always the stairs.
He liked being reminded how high he lived.
And yet, there's one thing that pulls him down, brings his feet to the earth below, calls him like a siren song. It's you, hidden away from everyone's sight inside your tiny home, just as troubled and judged as himself.
He'd fallen in love with you the second you told him his name.
It had been a rainy night, his clothes drying on your heater as he was wrapped in two of your blankets; the smell of your fabric softener and something so typically you surrounding him like a mother's hug would a child. It had given him a feeling of comfort he had never quite experienced before, and it had also been the first time he had imagined what it would be like to hug you.
To have you close.
He had explained to you why he had freaked out when you reached for his arm to steady him when he almost fell inside your apartment through your window; had apologized and bowed his head in shame until you had simply shrugged.
"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Jungkookie." You had said. Jungkookie. "You're you. And I like you." You had said, not looking at him as you typed in some code to Kana's internal system.
His heart had warmed up at that.
And while you had accepted him, he had accepted you just as much. While at first caught off guard by your quiet and sometimes harsh way of treating him, he had also gotten to know just how gentle and delicately you treated the ones you loved. You were a loyal person, always going out of your way to be helpful, and silently basking in praise any time it was directed at you.
He loved that view. The way your cheeks would grow warm, how your eyes would sparkle; and he loved most of all, that he had been, according to Taehyung who was the second closest to you, the only one to see you smile.
You even laughed with him.
It filled him with pride to know that you were able to let go around him, even if it was just a little. It made him feel like he did something huge. It helped him sleep at night knowing that you were trusting him enough to let down your guard a little.
And it hurt him even worse knowing that he couldn't do the same thing for you.
He was a coward-
and you deserved a hero.
"Ace?" He asked, slipping through your window as he noticed the apartment silent and dark. Nothing greeted him. "..Ace?" He tried again, maybe you were asleep? But your apartment was quiet, empty, nothing spoke of your presence. Dishes were in the sink, a cup of water left untouched on the counter, and something inside of him churned painfully at the way this looked. He checked the kitchen tile, sliding it to the side like he's seen you do it countless of times.
It was dark.
Instead, he was greeted by a post it note. "Underneath the bed. Take care." Was all it read. He stood up, pushing your bed away from the wall noticing how your carpet had been torn a little. And as he lifted the cut flap of carpet, there was an envelope.
Your watch. A small in-ear piece, and your old IT-identification, folded.
A noise outside your hallway made his head snap up as he pushed the bed back into place, making an escape for it as he climbed outside the window, watch safely inside his jacket as he climbed back up on top of a building, before he examined it further, turning it on, after putting the earpiece in.
"Hello, Jungkook." Kana greeted him, and it felt weird to hear the AI say his name like that. "Creator has advised me to answer all questions you might have, and assist you from here on." She said, and Jungkook simply put the watch on, making his way to his own apartment.
"What happened?" He asked, his face serious as he walked.
"At around 6:12 O'clock, creator was taken into further questioning regarding illegal possession and knowledge of classified information and technological equipment. She had shown no resistance and complied with authorities. My observations however showed that she was taken with more force than necessary." Kana explained. Jungkook shook his head. "She had prepared for this instance during the night, approximately twenty-six minutes after you had left."
"She knew?!" He suddenly said, shutting his apartment door violently as he started to pace around, throwing his jacket on the couch. "Why didn't she contact me?"
"Analysis; your body shows signs of-" Kana started, but Jungkook interrupted.
"Shut up. Why didn't she tell me?" He asks again, and Kana seems to hesitate for a moment.
"Considering her close relationship to you, she probably wanted to not get you involved." She stated, and Jungkook sighed, sitting down on his couch as he gripped his hair. He should've stayed. Hell, it wasn't the first time he wanted to stay. He had dreamed of staying over, of fucking living with you for months to no end by now, but he was a coward. And this was his paycheck.
"Kana." He said lowly, and the small tune gave him the cue to talk. "Contact V95. Tell him it's urgent. We got an emergency." He says.
"I can't watch this." He says, jumping up and holding onto his head as to not punch his wall, unable to go through the videofeed of your interrogation room.
There's not much to see, but Jungkook knows that's simply because they haven't had the time to see to you yet. You and him knew best what really happened in these rooms, and he hated knowing that deep down they wouldn't go easy on you simply because you were a young woman. It didn't matter to them.
He'd seen teenagers way younger than you and him getting the rough treatment before- and elderly didn't get spared either.
The government bragged about having everything in order; yet they couldn't even control their own law enforcement it seemed. When he really thought back on his history lessons in school, not much had changed at all.
The world was still in utter chaos.
His palm shuts his laptop harshly- earning a tiny chime from the AI he’s already forgotten shares his home with him now. “I suggest that you practice care in treating your electronics to-“ he groans, successfully shutting it off at that. “Why are you frustrated?” It- she? Asks, and he sits down.
“I don’t know how to help her.” He admits in shame, thinking back to the footage of your hidden camera; the way they had pushed you to the ground, before grabbing you, leading you out of your apartment a few minutes away from him. “I don’t know what I should do.” He says.
There’s a bit of silence, until the AI speaks up again. “Do you have a romantic interest in my creator?” She asks, and his head snaps up at that.
“What the fuck? Why would you ask me this?!” He barks, unsure where to look since he can only hear the voice.
“I have observed both my creator and your behaviors; you seem to have a very deep rooted interest in each others well-being and opinions. This is commonly found in partnerships. I was only asking you to confirm if my assumption is correct.”
He’s silent for a moment, until he speaks again, watching the announcement van pass his window; voices dull and unintelligible though the walls and windows. “It’s no use anyways. Who wants someone they can’t even shake hands with?” He sighs, looking into his lap again. He hates that he’s like this; that even though he very much loves and adores you, there’s no magic moment that makes him forget- even though he craves the contact, he can’t do it. Every time he’s close to you, he knows that he could simply hug you; or let you rest your head on his shoulder, like in romantic movies. He wants to hold your hand, wipe your tears- but his body won’t cooperate. He can’t do it.
Not even with you.
“Creator seems very comfortable with you.” The AI states. “I have been asked to archive all text messages and phone calls of you two recently. When I asked for a reason, she claimed she would need it someday- I was unsure what she meant.” Jungkook furrows his brow, raising his head again. “Sometimes, when creator is deeply upset, she has the habit of playing some of the recordings of you singing, or reminding her to take care. My research has shown that it slows down her heartbeat to a more normal level and also improves her insomnia.” Jungkooks eyes widen at that.
Does that mean.. that you like him back?
"Kana, fuck- cut the feed." He says, agitated.
"Are you sure?" She asks, and he sighs, before yelling his frustration out, sitting down to take a deep breath. He slowly shook his head no. He couldn't let all your hard work go to waste like this.
He couldn't stay a coward.
"Jungkook, it appears to be that the creator is being let go." Kana suddenly chimes up, and Jungkook rushes to his pc setup to see for himself. And she's right- your arm is being held tightly, and something is being said to you, but your hands are no longer chained to the chair- you're free.
What just happened?
Jungkook sometimes really hates himself for being the way he is.
There's no sugarcoating it that you need comfort now more than ever, even though you don't openly show it to him. He can see it in the way you're still biting your nails, he can see it in your eyes which never stay on one point for too long. And he can definitely see it in the bruises on your upper arm, and the cut on your lower lip where you had bitten in anger and frustration. He wants to comfort you, he knows you'd let him- and yet he can't move any closer than where he is right now; only the length of his palm of space between you two. And yet it's like his joints are locked into place. He can't touch you.
What if he hurts you?
And it dawns on him right then and there while he watches you drink your can of overly sweet soda while typing your code like second nature, that he's not scared of you hurting him. He's scared of doing to you, what's been done to him. Because deep down he is aware that his parents never had bad intentions, never hated him or wanted him to suffer; they were simply unsure and not at all confident in how to really care for a child. They had been caught off guard and gotten overwhelmed by the sudden shift in their situation that they never truly knew what to do. And nowadays he felt like he was simply heading down the same road.
He was starting to feel like he was becoming just like them.
"Hm?" You ask him, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, your eyes wide and worried as you put down your almost empty can of soda. "What is it?" You ask him, and he wants to scream. He wants to throw a fit like a child at the way you seem to worry for him every time you should worry for yourself. He's a coward, he's useless, he's everything you don't need nor deserve in his eyes, and yet you always look at him like he's the main character of your favorite movie.
If he was, he was sure he'd be merely a sidekick- because you deserved to be the focus of every story told in his eyes. And if you weren't included in the tale, he knew he didn't want to ever know about it.
He swallows, before he manages to make his hand move, finger pointing at your arm where a green-ish bruise already formed. "Does it hurt?" He asks, and he's not even sure if he's asking you about the bruise, of if he's asking something else. He doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't even know if he's asking you or himself.
"No." You answer, and he looks at you, searching for any hint of a lie in your eyes. But he only sees that slight smile, lips turned a little, almost unnoticeable. But its there, he can see it, and he wants to print it into his mind to never forget it. You were so observant, knew him so well, that he was almost certain you knew of his inner fight and what he really meant with his blurted out question. "Are you okay?" You ask him, and he swallows again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as his body grows rigid like an unoiled machine, only moving with as much force as he can manage to come up with. His breathing is heavy as his eyes can't leave the spot on your arm, and your watch him with wide eyes as his shaking hand slowly reaches out.
He doesn't know what he expects to really happen.
Maybe like those electric shocks you get when someone had rubbed their socks on a carpet before touching someone else. Maybe he had expected to recoil instantly. Maybe he had expected nothing- but he was suddenly in a rush the moment his fingertip touched your warm skin, delicate, soft, everything his rough hands weren't.
And you were still as prey in front of a wolf.
But the wolf in this scenario was holding his breath while his tears finally fell. He wants to speak, but he can't, he doesn't know how to ask for something when he doesn't even know if he wants it.
But suddenly he moves again, his palm now resting fully against your upper arm, shaking, as it moves over the length of it, softly, as he imprints the way your soft skin feels. "Jungkook.." You whisper out, and he suddenly snaps, leans forward, his legs on either side of your body as he snakes his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel him shake as he holds you, his cheek resting against your back and you don't care about his tears staining your shirt as he suddenly cries openly and possibly for the first time since he was a mere child.
He's unsure, overwhelmed, because you're so warm, you smell so nice, you're so soft, and he can't let go, doesn't want to let go. He whines out as you turn a bit as he thinks you're moving away but you're simply placing your legs over his as you sit in his lap, hugging him back as you make sure to give him a gentle squeeze.
He calms down after a long while of simply existing. Of breathing you in, of feeling you. "You're right." He whispers into your neck, and you can't help but shiver, leaning into his hug.
"It doesn't hurt at all."
"You know, I get why you come up here." You comment, as Jungkook makes sure to hold your hand tightly in his, your feet dangling off the edge of the building you're sitting on top of. "It's nice." You say.
He's not listening that well though.
All he can really do is watch your face, illuminated by the neon lights of the city, hair swaying in the wind as you look down below. He doesn't quite know what you two really are, doesn't know how long it will take him to really come out of his shell and give you the love you deserve, but he's trying. He's fighting, he's left his cowardly self behind.
He want's to change.
And not just for you alone, because while he hates seeing you hurt, he knows what you two are doing- what all of you are doing- is for the greater good.
Jungkook hates your ideas sometimes.
Simply because he knows they will work, but also end up with you getting into danger at the end of it. And just like now, all he can do really is hope that you make it out as he keeps a watchful eye on your movements from above, giving you directions via Kana as you sometimes trip and stumble a little.
You're not a very active person; running wasn't really your thing.
Fuck, you were basically a hermit, the most you walked around was from your bedroom into the kitchen!
But then again, sacrifices had to be made somewhere. And Jungkook really admired you; because every time he thought that you had reached your limit, you would face it head first and break through it.
"Ace, try and somehow get to higher ground. They're caging you in from all sides." He urgently tells you as he watches police chase you down the roads, pushing citizens aside to not loose sight of you.
The plan had been simple. Gain all the attention so Taehyung could infect one of the police station's servers with a new worm, giving you all a better and easier access to any data and communication of the area. Jungkook couldn't play the bate well enough; and you had been on their radar already, making you the best option to gain their interest quickly enough.
Although Jungkook hated that part.
"Come on, ah fuck it." He grits out, jumping down to grab a ladder, making his way to a nearby area he could pull you up. There was no way you could reach any of the fire ladders yourself, and by now, things were getting too hot for him to risk anything. "Here!" He barks out, not thinking twice about grabbing your hand and helping you upwards, trying not to worry too much about your heavy breathing. And then there's it.
A pop, loud, followed by another, and another, and another. You're suddenly falling, scraping your knees on the ground below as he can't catch you, too startled by the fact that they had actually decided to shoot to react quick enough. "Fuck!" He says, eyes wide and pupils blown as he looks at you.
"Jungkook, why the fuck aren't you running?!" You yell at him, a scratch on the top of your left cheek as you push his leg away from you- the only thing you can reach. "Go!" You bark again, and he growls out something, before he manages to pull you onto his back, adrenaline not letting his brain process what he's doing.
He can't just leave you.
"Taehyung, get out, Ace has been shot. Whatever was uploaded has to be enough." He says via the in-ear piece, doesn't wait for a response. He still gets it.
"Fuck, what?! Okay okay, I'm out" He says, and Jungkook can only catch a glimpse of the older man leaving the building via the backside entrance. He's only concerned with getting you somewhere safe.
"Urgh." You groan, slowly sitting up on Jungkooks couch. "I mean, I know paintball hurts, but rubber bullets? Jesus.." You complain, while Jungkook looks at you with a dark expression. "What?" You ask him, and he huffs.
"You sound like you haven't almost been killed yesterday." He grimly says, and you shrug. "Stop. I'm serious." He tells you, and you let yourself fall back down onto his couch.
"Whatever. At least we killed their communication." You say, closing your eyes. "Must've at least pissed them off." You say.
"Kana." Jungkook suddenly says, waiting for the familiar sound to tell him she's active. "Shut down for now." He says, and you sit up, hissing instantly at the sudden movement.
"Hey- ah fuck!" You say, as you watch on your bracelet how Kana complies; shutting down. "Why would you do that?" You say in an offended matter, before you grow quiet, watching him go onto his knees in front of you, as he lets his head rest on top of your lap.
"I just want.. you to myself. Just.." He mumbles, and you slowly bring your hand to his hair. "Just for a moment." He says, and you sigh. Jungkook had been under a lot of stress recently, you no doubt being the main cause of most of it recently. So you simply let him be, as he closed his eyes. "Y/N?" He asks suddenly, and you answer him. "I love you." He says, and your body stops moving.
What?
"It's okay if you don't." He says, not moving from his spot, and neither opening his eyes. "I mean it. I only want you to know." He explains further. "Because I.. couldn't fucking live with myself if something happened to you, and I've never told you." He admits, and you can't help but stare at him. Jungkook looked down on himself so much that it was sometimes frustrating to see; simply because you saw him as such an amazing human being with countless talents and beautiful flaws.
You knew you couldn't muster up the strength to actually answer him; not so spontaneously. You weren't that expressive, you couldn't communicate as freely and colorful as he could. All your words seemed black and white to you, mixing into grey and mundane sentences while his words seemed to bloom into the most amazing paintings. He had a way of charming those around him- and he didn't even know.
You slowly leaned down instead, moving his hair to the side as you placed a feather-light kiss to the top of his cheek, close to his eye.
You hoped he would somehow understand you.
And as he moved again, looking at you with eyes that sparkled brighter than any city's skyline ever could, you knew he did.
He'd always understand you, no matter how you communicated with him.
You didn't need words to understand each other.
The shy kiss you two shared, bathed in the purple glow of the neon lights outside his window, spoke enough.
"You should try and sleep." Jungkook tells you, taking away your can of soda as you whine at him. "No buts. Come on, I'll finish this for you." He says, and you let him take over the keyboard of your laptop. It's something you really only let him get away with- anyone else would've probably lost a finger or two trying to touch your work.
You don't trust anyone but him at this point.
"I know that Kana snitched." You comment, as you lean your back against his shoulder. He chuckles. "Can't believe my own creation goes behind my back like that." You mumble, and Jungkook has a light tune to his voice as he speaks.
"Well, it's a good thing though." He tells you. "I worry about you." He says.
"Ugh come on, you know that's not the part I meant." You laugh, and he grins.
"Oh, you mean the part where you listen to my crappy ass singing to help you sleep?" He tells you with a teasing undertone. "No wonder you got insomnia trying to find rest to that." He chuckles, and you playfully hit his thigh.
"Shut up, your voice is nice." You say, and he's glad your eyes are closed, and you can't see him blush.
Somehow, moments like these re-energized him again. Because it proved to him that there was still a piece of that innocent and untainted you inside that thick shell you had put up to protect yourself. And considering that you let him see you like that made his pride grow taller than any of the skyscrapers of his city.
Maybe one day the two of you will have a future together that won't be so difficult and unfair like your current one was. Maybe one day, you both will have changed enough to teach the next generation about what you've overcome.
But then again; living in the moment seemed to fit a lot better in his eyes, as he watched you sleep soundly against his shoulder.
Yeah, this moment was more than enough for now.
The world won't change over night- you both know that. All of you know that. But small things were starting to make a difference here and there; for example, the letter you held towards Jungkook as his eyes widened.
"..and we have officially decided that we no longer want to participate in the case against the defendant. The result of this agreement is that all charges against Y/N L/N have been dismissed and are no longer being investigated." He reads out loud, almost whispering as if saying it too loud could make it a lie. "They let you go?" He asks, and you nod, the small bandaid on your cheek making you look even cuter in his eyes as you shrug.
"Jimin had reached out too. They've let him go home as well." You say. and Jungkook huffs out in disbelief.
After infecting the police station with the worm you had all worked on, you had scared the entire country enough to take a step back from the overall aggressive tone. It wasn't much- but it meant that they knew you were there. You existed, and you were not bowing down.
You were still untamed.
Jungkook smiled brightly as he put the letter down to the side, reaching out to you to pull you onto his lap. He simply holds you for a moment, his lips kissing the skin of your shoulder as if in a trance. "I love you." He tells you, and you smile, squeezing him a bit in your arms. "I really do." He assures you, and you nod.
You don't answer him, and he doesn't seem to mind as he leans back from you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grins, hands holding your face so delicately as he places a kiss onto your lips, making you close your eyes as he breaks away from you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.
He's still not letting anyone very physically close other than you; he's still scared of going out and around like everyone else. You're still rather hiding inside his apartment- both of your apartment now- and you still have trouble sleeping.
But Jungkook keeps the nightmares away.
And you make him brave in exchange.
It's really weird to hear the sound of a radio nowadays.
Things are still far from normal- but recently, citizens had been given radios to listen to public broadcast again. It only played crappy music with some rare good tracks here and there, but it was better than nothing.
Jungkook couldn't help but think that your breathless voice was far more entertaining than any music station he can remember from his youth.
While he hates touching other people, even friends and family, he can't help but feel a rush whenever he touches you.
His hands can't stop on one specific spot, can't seem to stay still even for a moment as his lips nip and suck at the flesh of your neck and shoulder, marking what's his, visualizing that you really belong to him. He bears the same mark on his collarbone from last night, and he should have been satisfied, but even an early morning couldn't keep him away from you.
The rain hit the window harshly, but he didn't notice at all. All his eyes could see was your form underneath him, skin glowing as he moves above you, euphoria filling his veins as he can't look away from where you're connected, where his cock disappears inside of you over and over and over again.
"I love you." He breathes out as he comes undone, holding you close, resting his head against your shoulder, as you hold onto his arms, a smile, a genuine and big smile thrown his way as he can't help but smile along.
"I love you too, Jungkook." You say, and he chuckles.
The radio in the background still playing, as you lay in each others' arms.
(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please stop reposting my content on AO3 thinking I won't find it. I'm literally everywhere you clowns.
To everyone else: Thank you for reading this mess- I really apologize for the messy storyline, but I just wanted to put this out before the entire thing escaped me again and I would end up struggling to find my way back into it (cough cough flashback to mean lmao). I promise to somewhat post more regularly. Thank you for your kind words and for sticking with me!
#bts imagine#bts#bts fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts fic#bts smut#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts reactions
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The AAI Cast Takes On Twitter
Hello! For the release of ace attorney investigations 2 ten years ago, on the official AA twitter account, Capcom posted a bunch of tweets that were made to sound like they came from the characters themselves. You can still find them if you dig far enough, but it’s a bit of a pain to find and especially a pain to understand in English, so I decided to compile them all here and attempt to translate them. (They have also been “localized” in true ace attorney fashion.)
First, a disclaimer: I am absolutely NOT a translator and my understanding of Japanese is abysmal. I put the original tweets through google translate and then went through trying to make them legible, including looking up words and phrases when they didn’t make any sense. As a result, I can’t guarantee that this is completely accurate, and I definitely messed with phrasing a bit to get things to flow better or sound more in character. Hopefully the general gist of things should make sense! I’ll put the original Japanese text below the English one, and if you actually know Japanese and would like to properly translate it, please do so! I just wanted to get this out here as fast as possible.
If you want to view the original tweets, I’ve filtered them (mostly!) here in reverse-chronological order. There are tweets from the game staff at the end that I did not “translate”.
With that said, here are the tweets. (It is long, so most of it is under the cut.) The breaks are things I added that I believe were breaks in time on the actual account, and represent new scenes.
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<Edgeworth>: I was told to “tweet” what I usually think about to commemorate the release of “Ace Attorney Investigations 2”... What should I do?
<Kay>: Come on, Mr. Edgeworth! First, you need to introduce yourself!
<Edgeworth>: Oh. Sorry for the late introduction. My name is Miles Edgeworth, a prosecutor at the District Attorney's Office. Kay informed me that this is “Tweeter”.
<Kay>: No! It’s pronounced "Twitter"!
<Edgeworth>: Is it "Tweeter"? I'm not very good at this kind of thing ...
<Kay>: Okay, moving on. Ace Attorney Investigations 2 is about to be released, and Mr. Edgeworth has a lot to say, right?
<Edgeworth>: Mm. Certainly, there are few opportunities like this, so this should be a valuable experience.
<Kay>: Then this Great Thief, Kay Faraday, will teach Mr. Edgeworth the fun of tweeting!
<Edgeworth>: I’m not very interested in that… but alright. More importantly, Kay, do you want to start working soon?
<Kay>: Yes! Then, we can play later!
<Edgeworth>: (Well, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to tweet.)
<Kay>: Mr. Edgeworth ... Your inner voice is in the tweet! Isn't that neat?
<Edgeworth>: Ah! Tweeter… I shouldn’t underestimate it.
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<Edgeworth>: It's already 12 o'clock ... I wanted to take a break for lunch, but it seems that I won’t get the chance. The detective just reported a new case. I'm heading to the scene right now.
<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe seems to have been in a hurry. He said he “lost something important”... It’s probably not something to worry about. I should concentrate on the investigation first. It takes a careful investigation to find out the truth hidden in the scene. There are many things that cannot be understood from desk work alone.
<Edgeworth>: I've arrived at the scene. Mm? It seems that some pencils have fallen near the victim.
<Edgeworth>: Search for the connection between information. That is the pursuit of "Logic". Assembling "Logic" is the key to the investigation even in Ace Attorney Investigations 2. “Something lost by Detective Gumshoe” and the “pencil left on the scene” ... There is one answer that can be derived from the two pieces of information.
<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe! It seems that we found your lost pencil. ‥‥ Don’t leave extra evidence on the scene!
<Edgeworth>: Hmm ... Finally, the truth of the scene has come into view. This case will likely be resolved soon.
-----
<Kay>: Good evening! I came to play as promised!
<Gumshoe>: Welcome, Kay!
<Kay>: Huh? Gummy, are you also on Twitter?
<Gumshoe>: It’s popular among my detective friends. As long as my number of followers keeps increasing, I’m happy!
<Edgeworth>: What is a "follower"?
<Gumshoe>: Well, people who read your tweets. To put it simply, it’s like a friend group.
<Kay>: It seems that there are many people who are watching this tweet! Ehehe. That makes me kind of happy!
<Edgeworth>: Hmm. Friend group...? That sounds a little embarrassing, but thank you, followers.
<Kay>: Hmm. I feel that followers and friends are a little different. Well, as long as he’s happy.
<Edgeworth>: Let’s say that tomorrow we’ll spend more time with our followers on Tweeter.
-----
<Gumshoe>: I've been waiting for you, Prosecutor Edgeworth!
<Edgeworth>: Mm. Good morning Detective Gumshoe. It's rare for you to get to court earlier than me.
<Gumshoe>: That’s because I have to set a good example for my followers! I skipped dinner last night so I wouldn't be late.
<Edgeworth>: What does skipping dinner have to do with getting up early?
<Gumshoe>: Well, it sets a “belly clock”, so you wake up at breakfast time!
<Edgeworth>: (There are too many problems with that, and I don't feel like pointing them all out... I’ll just stay silent.)
<Gumshoe>: Mr. Edgeworth ... We can see the tweets of your inner voice, you know…?
<Edgeworth>: It's about time for the court to open. I'm heading into court without any uncertainty today.
-----
<Kay>: Hello everybody! I'm Kay Faraday, also known as the Great Thief Yatagarasu. Fufufu ... I’m actually in the gallery right now! I wanted to see Mr. Edgeworth and Gummy in court, and keep an eye on the enemy!
<Kay>: Oh! Mr. Edgeworth screamed, “Objection!” This is the 5th time today. The other lawyer is sweating now. The judge’s gavel is getting fierce! Eh -- what? “You can’t tweet in the courtroom…?” Hey!
<Kay>: Uh ... I was kicked out of the courtroom. As expected by the new rival of Ace Attorney Investigations 2, Justine Courtney! She seems like a kind judge, but also very observant.
<Kay>: This is an unexpectedly strong enemy! Mr. Edgeworth, are you okay ...?
<Edgeworth>: Kay. What were you doing in the gallery today?
<Gumshoe>: I was surprised to see Kay being kicked out of court!
<Kay>: I didn't think that tweeting was prohibited. As a Great Thief, this is the ultimate mistake!
<Edgeworth>: If you have time to regret breaking the rules of the court, use it to learn a little more about them.
<Kay>: If I had to leave the court anyways, I wanted to have a cooler exit, befitting of a Great Thief!
<Gumshoe>: … I don’t think she regretted breaking the rules.
<Kay>: Anyway! You’ve already finished your work today, right?
<Edgeworth>: Yes, I finished my work in the courtroom today. It looks like we can have a nice holiday.
<Kay>: So, why don’t the three of us go play together! Bowling, karaoke, game centers, etc.!
<Edgeworth>: No ... I'm not very good at such things.
<Gumshoe>: Since it’s Friday night, why don’t we play around and recover from working hard! I think watching movies would be fun!
<Kay>: Yeah, you worked so hard this week! Now, let’s go play!
<Edgeworth>: *sigh*. Whatever I say, it’ll be a waste of time… If we must, at least make it a movie.
-----
<Gumshoe>: This Saturday morning is a nice time for a walk! I sometimes take a walk with Missile to build strength and give him training. As the “partner” of Prosecutor Edgeworth, I want to be useful in Ace Attorney Investigations 2!
<Gumshoe>: When investigating with a metal detector or collaborating with Missile, I will be second to none! Hey, Missile! Hmm? Is a scent bothering you? Aaaaa! Mi-Missile has run away! He must’ve smelled food.
<Gumshoe>: When this happens, I have to rely on the odor to chase after it! This is part of the investigation process! Uh… I lost him right away. When this happens, I have to prepare sweets that Missile likes to lure him in! … I’m so overwhelmed.
<Kay>: It’s a shame to keep Missile as a police dog. He stole away Samurai Dogs from this Great Thief and ate them…! I was trying to eat with Ema.
<Gumshoe>: Sorry about that, pal. By the way, what were you doing together? Collecting fallen leaves…?
<Ema>: We’re grilling Samurai Dogs on this fire we made from scientific chemicals!
<Gumshoe>: Huh. Scientific chemicals, pal…? Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Missile! Do you feel alright?
<Kay>: It’s fine! He ate it before we started the fire.
<Gumshoe>: Oh. I wish I got to have some...
<Edgeworth>: It’s not good to use chemicals to play with fire, Ema. Scientific research is important, but please use moderation.
<Ema>: Yes! Moderation! By the way, are you going somewhere?
<Edgeworth>: Yes. I have some business. ... I don't have much time, so excuse me.
<Kay>: ... Mr. Edgeworth, where are you going?
<Ema>: Fufufu. In this case, we can follow his footsteps! Using the power of science… in moderation!
<Kay>: Alright! Let's follow him… in moderation!
<Gumshoe>: They both have a strange definition of “moderation”...
-----
<Kay>: That overwhelming scale! I think I’m going to cry! That’s a first for an orchestra concert!
<Ema>: The powerful sound of brass instruments and the splendid melody of woodwind instruments! Scientifically speaking, changing between different sounds is what makes music good.
<Edgeworth>: Umm. While I was looking forward to today, I didn't expect you two to follow me.
<Kay>: I wanted to bring Gummy as well, but he had to walk Missile, so he couldn’t come with us.
<Edgeworth>: The detective can still hear the “Ace Attorney Investigations 2 Orchestra Arrangement Collection” CD. You can pre-order one at E-Capcom.
<Ema>: I already pre-ordered it, of course! I’ll also get the 1:10 figure of Mr. Edgeworth!
<Edgeworth>: A 1:10 figure of myself? I don't remember measuring my height, but ...
<Kay>: That's because I stole Mr. Edgeworth's height perfectly!
<Edgeworth>: I'm a little hesitant to say it in the orchestra hall, but let me just say one word.
<Kay>: "Objection!"
<Edgeworth>: Wha…? How did you --!
<Ema>: This must be the famous technique of the Great Thief, stealing the words right out of his mouth! How informative!
-----
<Edgeworth>: I have no plans today, so I will spend my time reading at a nearby coffee shop. Naturally, I want to relax on Sundays.
<Edgeworth>: I’m drinking high-quality black tea in a comfortable sunny place. Today is going to be a good day off.
<Edgeworth>: Speaking of which, the other day, a follower named “Wendy” greeted me here on Tweeter. I don’t know how to return messages, so I haven’t done so yet. Let me thank you here. Ms. Wendy, thank you for following me.
<Oldbag>: E… Edgey-pooooooo! I finally found youuuuuuu!
<Edgeworth>: Gah! What are you doing in this coffee shop ...!?
<Oldbag>: No way, Edgey-poo! Just now, didn’t you say this on Twitter? Didn’t you just say “Ms. Wendy, thank you”? You made this old lady so happy! I just ran around all the coffee shops and searched for you everywhere, Edgey-poo. The power of lo
<Edgeworth>: Do you talk too much to fit on Tweeter? So, “Wendy” was you! No matter how many coffee shops you visit, there’s no way you found me so easily… Are you hiding something?
<Oldbag>: If you say that without evidence, you’d tarnish the title of “prosecutor!” I have nothing to hide from my dearest Edgey-poo!
<Edgeworth>: Hmm… Even without evidence, if I read your reactions and feelings, I can expose the truth while only using my words.
<Oldbag>: Oh, I heard about this, Edgey-poo! Isn’t it called “Logic Chess”? I know everything about you, Edgey-poo!
<Edgeworth>: What do you mean by “I know everything?”
<Oldbag>: You see, it’s because I’m a security guard. Recently, because the whippersnapper who was there before me got fired, I was temporarily guarding the prosecutor’s office. At that time, I just so happened to see your address, Edgey-poo.
<Edgeworth>: …………… I didn’t even need to pull out information, and you’re already telling me the answer!
<Oldbag>: Oh. It was a slip of the tongue. I thought I would get to see Logic chess.
<Edgeworth>: Well, could you see it in Ace Attorney Investigations 2? Please excuse me, I have very important business to attend to.
<Oldbag>: You mentioned that you have no business today! Today, I will never let you go!
-----
<Edgeworth>: Ngh… That was quite the disaster today.
<Edgeworth>: I was too careful just because it was a holiday. I was neglecting my remarks and wasn’t vigilant of those around me ...
<Edgeworth>: Mm? Now “Tweeter” is showing something from “Wendy”. … “Sorry. - Wendy.” … I’m not going to respond to that!
-----
<Gumshoe>: Prosecutor Edgeworth, did you hear? Agent Lang is coming from the Republic of Zheng Fa!
<Edgeworth>: Hm. Is he also involved in an international case? I didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him for long the last time. If I have time, I’ll go greet him.
<Gumshoe>: The last incident was a difficult one. I couldn’t talk much with Agent Lang’s subordinates, either.
<Gumshoe>: There are 100 people who know about it.
<Edgeworth>: If you tried to talk to everyone, the sun would set before you did.
<Gumshoe>: To be honest, I gave up trying to remember my own face and name.
<Edgeworth>: That’s just being lazy!
-----
<Lang>: Yo, Mr. Prosecutor. It's strange to see you in a place like this.
<Edgeworth>: It's been a long time, Agent Lang. I never thought we would meet again at a restaurant like this.
<Lang>: I just happened to see this place while I was looking for somewhere I could go alone.
<Edgeworth>: Alone ...? That’s unusual for you. Aren’t you usually with your subordinates?
<Lang>: Well… Lang Zi says: “To know the feelings of a lone wolf, you should leave the pack.” Sometimes I do things on my own.
<Edgeworth>: Is that so? However, I see a contradiction right there on your table.
<Lang>: Hah! Is that the prosecutor’s famous “deduction”?
<Edgeworth>: For someone eating alone, you ordered a lot of “platters”, which seem to serve over twenty people.
<Lang>: Arooooooo! ‥‥Oops. It seems I have a habit of ordering too much. If you don’t mind, Mr. Prosecutor, would you take a little?
<Edgeworth>: It seems that you’re not very good at acting alone.
-----
<Kay>: Eh? Agent Lang’s coming here again?
<Edgeworth>: Ah, yes. Unlike before, though, it seems like he’s acting alone for some reason.
<Kay>: Isn’t that because it’s difficult to sneak around with too many people? It’s an important rule for a Great Thief!
<Edgeworth>: He is an “international investigator”, not a “Great Thief”. … Anyway, he seemed to come to this country for some purpose.
<Kay>: Then, we might meet him again at a crime scene.
<Edgeworth>: Even if we both desire to pursue the truth, our paths often run counter to each other. If I meet him in the field, we may argue.
<Kay>: That’s nice. I also want a rival that will change me as a person! Ahh… I wonder if they’re out there… the rival who wants to hunt down the Great Thief!
<Edgeworth>: If you want to be arrested so badly, ask Detective Gumshoe.
<Kay>: Ugh! You just don’t get it!
-----
<Kay>: It's finally February!
<Edgeworth>: Oh. So it is...
<Gumshoe>: I'm looking forward to February 3rd!
<Gumshoe>: At our police station, we will sow beans for the bean-throwing festival! February 3rd is a precious day when you can eat soybeans for free!
<Kay>: Every year, I challenge myself with how many beans I can throw! “Out with the demons, in with the fortune, and in with the Great Thief’s treasure!”
<Edgeworth>: Did you forget the most important thing?
<Kay>: I was just kidding! Of course I remember what’s happening February 3rd!
<Gumshoe>: There is no reason to forget the release date of Ace Attorney Investigations 2!
<Edgeworth>: Mm ... I hope.
-----
<Edgeworth>: It’s three days before the game goes on sale. I hope the followers look forward to it as well.
<Edgeworth>: Investigating in winter is necessary, even if it’s cold, and you can’t catch a cold before the game goes on sale. Ergo, please take proper measures against the cold.
<Edgeworth>: Speaking of which, Detective Gumshoe wears the same coat all year round. Doesn’t that get cold? Ah… maybe it’s just that his salary is too low to buy anything else.
<Edgeworth>: ……… Should I invite Detective Gumshoe for dinner? What little I know about his eating habits worries me. I don’t think he’d eat instant noodles in winter…
<Edgeworth>: There is a handmade udon restaurant near the prosecutor's office. The taste is satisfying for a reasonable price. ‥‥‥‥‥‥ Though, when it comes to inviting Detective Gumshoe, I shouldn’t limit myself to just noodles.
<Edgeworth>: Mm. I tweeted that it was only 3 days before the game’s release, but it was 2 days. I worked all night in the office yesterday. It seems my sense of time has gone haywire.
<Edgeworth>: What I tweeted then was contradictory… Pardon me. Thank you, followers who pointed that out.
---
<Gumshoe>: This pork roast is delicious! This is my first one of the year!
<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe. Stop eating while tweeting!
<Gumshoe>: I've been eating only plain pasta this year. I couldn’t help myself!
<Kay>: I could, but I still tweeted!
<Edgeworth>: It may not be instant ramen, but his eating habits are always in crisis.
<Gumshoe>: Ugh... every time I make a mistake while investigating, the cost of living becomes a crisis.
<Kay>: But the one who is in the most danger right now is Mr. Edgeworth, isn't it? I saw it in a commercial! He’s having his “biggest crisis!”
<Gumshoe>: I heard it too ... What kind of mistake did you make, sir?
<Edgeworth>: Don’t compare me to you! I don’t know what it is, but I’m not afraid of any crisis. No matter what happens, I simply do what I think is right.
<Kay>: As expected of Mr. Edgeworth! Well, you can always count on this Great Thief to help you in an emergency!
<Gumshoe>: Of course, I will help too! If you want to manage your living expenses in a crisis, sir, just leave it to me!
<Edgeworth>: First, could you try helping me as a detective?
-----
<Kay>: By the way, Mr. Edgeworth, what kind of person is your father?
<Edgeworth>: … Why would you suddenly ask such a question?
<Kay>: I just asked Mr. Shields. He said your father was a very good person! I also respect my dad, so I was a little curious about yours.
<Edgeworth>: When I was a child, he was someone I highly respected, and… the kind of man I aspired to be.
<Kay>: Huh? Is it different now?
<Edgeworth>: ……… About that… It’s difficult to explain. If you want to know the answer, please wait until tomorrow.
<Kay>: I see! The answer is hidden in Ace Attorney Investigations 2. I’ll be sure to steal the truth about Mr. Edgeworth!
-----
<Kay>: Gummy! Please decorate it from the right side!
<Gumshoe>: Here it is! Oh no, the decoration fell!
<Edgeworth>: What are you doing in my office in the middle of my workday?
<Gumshoe>: I’m off duty, but since today’s the eve of the release date, I’m preparing a party!
<Kay>: It's almost time to tweet! Mr. Edgeworth, please work and just ignore us!
<Edgeworth>: If you truly want that, then please stop climbing on my desk. … I’ll finish work soon, so please wait until then.
<Kay>: Eh! Are you going to help us?
<Edgeworth>: I would like to celebrate.
<Gumshoe>: That’s helpful, sir! Then, I’ll be sitting on the sofa and waiting until it’s time!
<Edgeworth>: ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ Just wait in the corridor.
-----
<Gumshoe>: Cheers for the release of Ace Attorney Investigations 2!
<Edgeworth>: Hmm ... This party for the eve of the release is rather nice.
<Kay>: Ehehe. Tomorrow, we’ll give it our all!
<Edgeworth>: Umm. Thank you very much.
<Kay>: This is the last of our tweets ... It's a little regrettable.
<Edgeworth>: But I’m glad I had this opportunity to directly express my gratitude for the week. Those who were watching our tweets… let me thank you again.
<Gumshoe>: I still have something to talk about, but we’re already out of time!
<Kay>: But the eve of the release has only just begun! After this, you can talk to the development staff of “Ace Attorney Investigations 2” directly!
<Gumshoe>: Oh! Is that the plan?
<Kay>: I’m certain, because it’s information I stole from Capcom! It seems like it will start around 18:00!
<Edgeworth>: I do have a lot to ask, but let's leave that to the followers. Well then, excuse us for now.
<Edgeworth>: If you have any questions for the development staff, please quickly send them in!
------
Translation notes first:
The localized foods are as follows:
dorayaki -> Samurai Dogs (since Missile also has a habit of eating those, though I don’t believe the original was dorayaki?)
somen -> instant ramen
katsudon -> pork roast
shirataki -> plain pasta
The “bean-throwing festival” is Setsubun, a festival where you toss soybeans and eat some in order to toss out bad luck and bring in good luck (to my understanding, please correct me if I’m wrong). What Kay said (minus the Great Thief part) is one translation of a phrase you shout while throwing the beans. I obviously gave up on trying to localize this.
------
Original Japanese (minus breaks):
〈ミツルギ〉:『逆転検事2 発売直前記念』として、私が日頃思っていることを“つぶやく”ように言われたのだが‥‥どうすればいいのだろうか?
〈ミクモ〉:ダメですよミツルギさん!まずは自己紹介からしないと!
〈ミツルギ〉:ム。紹介が遅れてすまない。私の名前は御剣怜侍、地方検事局で検事をしている。ミクモくんに教えてもらったのだが、これが“ついたー”というものなのだな。
〈ミクモ〉:違いますよ!“ツイッター”ですってば!
〈ミツルギ〉:“ついったー”か。こういったアレは、あまり得意ではないのだが‥‥。
〈ミクモ〉:まあまあ。逆転検事2も発売間近ですし、ミツルギさんも言いたいこといっぱいあるでしょ?
〈ミツルギ〉:ム。確かにこういった機会は少ないから貴重ではあるな。
〈ミクモ〉:それじゃ、この大ドロボウ・一条美雲ちゃんが、つぶやく面白さをミツルギさんに教えちゃいますよー!
〈ミツルギ〉:そちらはあまり興味がないが‥‥まあいいだろう。それよりミクモくん。そろそろ仕事を始めたいのだが?
〈ミクモ〉:はーい! それじゃ、また後で遊びに来ますね!
〈ミツルギ〉:(まあ、気になったことがあれば気軽につぶやくとするか)
〈ミクモ〉:ミツルギさん‥‥。心の声がつぶやきに出てますよ!興味津々じゃないですか!
〈ミツルギ〉:なッ!ついったー‥‥あなどれんな。
〈ミツルギ〉:もう12時か‥‥優雅にランチといきたいところだが、そうもいかないようだ。先ほど刑事から新たな事件の報告が入ったのでな。いま、現場に向かっているところだ。
〈ミツルギ〉:イトノコギリ刑事は、“大事な物をなくした”と慌てていたようだが‥‥どうせたいした物ではないだろう。いまは捜査に集中するべきだ。現場に隠された真実を知るには、入念な捜査を必要とする。デスクワークだけでは分からないことも多いのだ。
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥現場に到着だ。ム?被害者の近くに“えんぴつ”が落ちているようだな。
〈ミツルギ〉:情報同士の共通点を探す。それこそが《ロジック》を追うということだ。逆転検事2でも《ロジック》を組み立てることが捜査の重要なカギを握っている。現場に残された“えんぴつ”と“イトノコギリ刑事がなくした物”‥‥2つの情報から導き出せる答えは1つ。
〈ミツルギ〉:イトノコギリ刑事!キミが無くしたというえんぴつが見つかったようだ。‥‥現場に余計な証拠品を残さないように。
〈ミツルギ〉:ふむ‥‥‥‥ようやく現場の真実が見えてきた。この事件は早急に解決できそうだ。
〈ミクモ〉:こんばんわ!約束通り遊びにきましたよ!
〈イトノコ〉:いらっしゃいッス!ミクモちゃん!
〈ミクモ〉:あれ?ノコちゃんもツイッターやってるんだ?
〈イトノコ〉:刑事仲間の間でも流行ってるッスよ。フォロワーもどんどん増えて、うれしい限りッス!
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥“フォロワー”とは何なのだろうか?
〈イトノコ〉:えーと。自分のつぶやきを読んでくれる人たちのことッス。簡単に説明すると“トモダチの輪”って感じッスかねえ。
〈ミクモ〉:このつぶやきを見てくれている人たちも、たくさんいるみたいですよ!えへへ。なんだかうれしいですね!
〈ミツルギ〉:ふむ。トモダチの輪‥‥か。少々恥ずかしくもあるが、ありがたいことだな。
〈ミクモ〉:うーん。フォロワーとトモダチとはちょっと違うような気もしますケド‥‥。ま。喜んでいるみたいなのでいいや!
〈ミツルギ〉:明日も“ついったー”で、フォロワーに恥じぬ時間を過ごすとしよう。
〈イトノコ〉:お待ちしてたッスよ!御剣検事!
〈ミツルギ〉:ム。おはようイトノコギリ刑事。私よりはやく裁判所に着くとはめずらしいな。
〈イトノコ〉:フォロワーのみんなに、カッコ悪いとこを見せられないッスからね!遅刻しないように、昨夜は夕飯を抜いておいたッスよ。
〈ミツルギ〉:夕飯を抜くのと早起きをするのに、何の関係があるというのだ。
〈イトノコ〉:すさまじい“腹時計”で、朝ご飯の時間に目覚めることが出来るッス!
〈ミツルギ〉:(問題が多すぎて、指摘する気にもなれん。‥‥ここはあえて黙っているとしよう)
〈イトノコ〉:御剣検事‥‥。心の声のつぶやきが自分にも見えるの、分かってやってるッスよね‥‥?
〈ミツルギ〉:そろそろ開廷の時間だ。余計なセンサクをしていないで、法廷に向かうぞ。
〈ミクモ〉:みなさんこんにちは!大ドロボウ・ヤタガラスこと一条美雲です。ふっふっふ‥‥実はいま、傍聴席にいるんですよ!敵情視察も兼ねて、ミツルギさんとノコちゃんの法廷姿を見ておこうと思って!
〈ミクモ〉:あ!ミツルギさんがまた『異議あり!』って叫んでる!今日はこれで5回目ですねー。相手の弁護士さんも汗だらだら流してますよ。裁判官の木槌も激しくなってます!えーとなになに���“法廷内でのつぶやきは却下しま‥‥す?”え。ちょ、ちょっと!
〈ミクモ〉:ううう‥‥‥‥法廷内から追い出されちゃいました。さすがは逆転検事2の新ライバル“水鏡 秤”さん!優しそうな裁判官だと思ってユダンしていました。
〈ミクモ〉:これは思わぬ強敵ですよ!ミツルギさん、大丈夫かなあ‥‥?
〈ミツルギ〉:ミクモくん。今日は一体傍聴席で何をしていたのだ。
〈イトノコ〉:法廷から追い出されるミクモちゃんを見て、ビックリしたッスよ!
〈ミクモ〉:まさかつぶやきが禁止とは思いませんでした‥‥。大ドロボウとして、一生の不覚です!
〈ミツルギ〉:後悔するヒマがあるのなら、法廷のルールについてもう少し学んでおきたまえ。
〈ミクモ〉:どうせ退廷させられるのなら、もっとカッコ良く立ち去りたかったです!大ドロボウとしては!
〈イトノコ〉:‥‥そっちで後悔しているとは思わなかったッス。
〈ミクモ〉:それはともかく! 今日はもうお仕事終わりなんですよね?
〈ミツルギ〉:今日の法廷で仕事は一段落ついたからな。気持ちよく休日をむかえられそうだ。
〈ミクモ〉:せっかくだから、いまから3人で遊びに行きましょうよ!ボーリングとかカラオケとか‥‥ゲームセンターとか!
〈ミツルギ〉:いや‥‥私はそういったものはあまり得意ではないのだが。
〈イトノコ〉:まあまあ。金曜日の夜はパーッと遊んで、仕事の疲れを癒すものッスよ!映画とかもいいッスねえ!
〈ミクモ〉:今週もお仕事お疲れ様でした!さあさあ。遊びに行きましょう!
〈ミツルギ〉:まったく。いまのキミたちには何を言ってもムダのようだな。‥‥せめて、映画にしてくれたまえ。
〈イトノコ〉:土曜日の朝は散歩日和ッスねえ!ミサイル。体力作りとミサイルの訓練も兼ねて、たまに一緒に散歩してるッスよ。御剣検事の“パートナー”として、逆転検事2では自分も役に立ちたいッスからね!
〈イトノコ〉:金属探知機を使った捜査やミサイルとの連携なら、誰にも負けないッス!ねー。ミサイル!ん?何か気になるニオイでもあるッスか?ああああッ!ミ、ミサイルが走って行っちまったッス!ミサイルは食べ物のニオイがすると突っ走っちゃうッスよ。
〈イトノコ〉:こうなったら自分もニオイを頼りに追いかけるしか!こっちも捜査のプロッスからね!うぅ‥‥‥‥‥‥さっそく見失っちまったッス。こうなったら、ミサイルが好きなお菓子を用意しておびきよせるッス!‥‥本末転倒な気もするッスけど‥‥。
〈ミクモ〉:警察犬にしておくには惜しいですね、ミサイル。まさか大ドロボウから“どら焼き”を盗み食いするなんて‥‥!せっかく、あかねちゃんと2人で食べようとしてたのになあ。
〈イトノコ〉:おどろかせてすまねッス。ところで、さっきは2人で何をしてたッスか?落ち葉をこんなに集めて‥‥。
〈アカネ〉:ヒゾウのカガク薬品でおこした火を利用して、あったか~い “焼きどら焼き”を作ろうかと!
〈イトノコ〉:え。カガク薬品ッスか‥‥?ミミミミミサイル!お腹の調子は悪くないッスか!
〈ミクモ〉:大丈夫だよ!火をおこす前に食べられちゃったから。
〈イトノコ〉:ほっ。だったら良かったッス。
〈ミツルギ〉:ぜんぜん良くないだろう。カガク薬品を使って、公共の場で火遊びなど。あかねさん。カガクの研究は大事ですが、ほどほどにしていただきたい。
〈アカネ〉:はい!ほどほどにします!ところで、どこかにお出かけですか?
〈ミツルギ〉:ええ。少し用事がありまして‥‥。あまり時間がないので、失礼します。
〈ミクモ〉:‥‥ミツルギさん、どこに行くんだろうね?
〈アカネ〉:ふっふっふ。そんなときは足跡を辿ればいいんですよ!ほどほどにカガクの力を使って!
〈ミクモ〉:よーし!ほどほどに尾行しましょう!
〈イトノコ〉:2人とも‥‥ほどほどの使い方がおかしい気がするッス。
〈ミクモ〉:あの圧倒的なスケール!涙なしには語れません!オーケストラコンサートなんて初めてです!
〈アカネ〉:金管楽器の力強い音と、木管楽器の華麗な旋律!音のカガク変化を起こすことで、音楽は作られているんですね‥‥。
〈ミツルギ〉:うム。この日を楽しみにしていたかいがあったというものだ。‥‥まさか、キミたちまでついてくるとは思わなかったがな。
〈ミクモ〉:ノコちゃんにも聞かせてあげたかったな−。ミサイルの散歩があるから、一緒に来られなかったんですよね。
〈ミツルギ〉:刑事には、サウンドトラックCD「オーケストラ・アレンジ楽曲集 〜奏でられし逆転〜」を聞かせるとしよう。いまからでもイーカプコンで予約出来るだろう。
〈アカネ〉:あたしはもちろん予約済みです!御剣検事さんの“1/10フィギュア”もバッチリゲットしますよ!
〈ミツルギ〉:私の1/10フィギュア?身長などを測られた覚えはないが‥‥。
〈ミクモ〉:そりゃもう、わたしがミツルギさんの情報をバッチリ盗んでおきましたからね!
〈ミツルギ〉:オーケストラホールで言うのはいささかためらわれるが‥‥一言だけ、言わせていただこう。
〈ミクモ〉:“異議あり!”‥‥ってね!
〈ミツルギ〉:な‥‥なぜキミが言うのだ!
〈アカネ〉:これが有名な大ドロボウの技“言葉を盗む”ですね。勉強になります!
〈ミツルギ〉:今日は特に予定が入っていない。近くの喫茶店で読書をして過ごすとしよう。‥‥さすがに、日曜日ぐらいは落ち着いて過ごしたいからな。
〈ミツルギ〉:心地よい日の当たる場所で、上質の紅茶を飲む‥‥。今日は良い休日になりそうだ。
〈ミツルギ〉:そういえば、先日“カオルさん”というフォロワーから、ついったーでアイサツされたのだが‥‥。アイサツを返す方法が分からなかったので、まだ返せていないのだ。ここで改めて礼を言わせていただこう。カオルさん、フォローしていただき感謝する。
〈オバチャン〉:ミ‥‥ミッちゃぁああん!やっと見つけたよぉおおお!
〈ミツルギ〉:ぐッ!ど、どうしてあなたがこの喫茶店に‥‥!
〈オバチャン〉:やだよミッちゃん!こないだこのツイッターとやらでアイサツしたじゃないか。さっきも“カオルさん、感謝する。”って言ってくれただろう?オバチャンうれしくなっちゃってねえ。ついついそこいらの喫茶店を巡ってミッちゃんを探しちまったのさ。愛のチカラっ
〈ミツルギ〉:は、早口すぎて“ついーと”におさまっていないではないか!しかも、“カオルさん”とは‥‥‥‥あなたのことだったのか!いくら喫茶店を巡ったといっても、こんなにカンタンに見つかるワケはない。‥‥何か隠していることがあるのではないか?
〈オバチャン〉:ミッちゃんったら、証拠もないのにそんなこと言っちゃ検事の名がすたれちゃうよ!オバチャンがミッちゃんに隠し事なんてするわけないじゃないのサ!
〈ミツルギ〉:フッ‥‥証拠品がなくとも、あなたの反応や感情を読み取り“言葉のみ”で真実を引き出してみせよう。
〈オバチャン〉:ああ。それならオバチャンも聞いたよ、ミッちゃん!《ロジックチェス》っていうヤツだろ?オバチャン、ミッちゃんのことなら何でも知ってるんだからね!
〈ミツルギ〉:“何でも知っている?”‥‥とはどういうことだろうか?
〈オバチャン〉:ほら。オバチャン警備員だからさ。このあいだ、前に勤めてた子がクビになったっていうから臨時で検事局の警備をしてたんだヨ。そのときにミッちゃんの住所がたまたま目に入っちゃってサ。
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥‥‥こちらから情報を引き出すまでもなく、自分で答えを言っているではないか!
〈オバチャン〉:あら。つい口が滑っちまったヨ。せっかくロジックチェスが見られると思ったのに残念だねえ。
〈ミツルギ〉:そ、それは逆転検事2で見ていただけないだろうか。私は用事があるので失礼する!
〈オバチャン〉:今日は用事がないってつぶやいてたじゃないか!今日という今日は、オバチャン絶対に逃がさないヨッ!
〈ミツルギ〉:く‥‥今日はさんざんな目にあった。
〈ミツルギ〉:休日だからといって気を抜きすぎていたな。自分の発言や周囲の警戒を怠っていたとは‥‥。
〈ミツルギ〉:ム?また“カオルさん”から私あてに“ついーと”が来ているな。『残念無念 カオル』‥‥と言われても、断じて誘いに乗るつもりはない!
〈イトノコ〉:御剣検事、聞いたッスか?ロウ捜査官が西鳳民国から来ているみたいッスよ!
〈ミツルギ〉:ほう。また国際的な事件に関わっているのだろうか。彼とはあまりゆっくり話す機会が無かったからな。時間があればアイサツぐらいは行くとしよう。
〈イトノコ〉:前回の事件は大変だったッスからねー。自分も、ロウ捜査官の部下の皆さんとはあんまり話せなかったッス。
〈イトノコ〉:なんせ知ってるだけでも100名はいるッスからねえ。
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥全員と話そうとすれば、日が暮れてしまうだろうな。
〈イトノコ〉:正直、顔と名前を覚えるのもあきらめたッス。
〈ミツルギ〉:すべてをあきらめているではないか!
〈ロウ〉:よう。検事さん。こんなところで会うとはキグウだな。
〈ミツルギ〉:久しぶりだな、ロウ捜査官。まさか、このような飲食店で再会するとは思わなかったが。
〈ロウ〉:どっか1人で落ち着ける店を探してたら、たまたまここが目に入ったんでな。
〈ミツルギ〉:1人‥‥?キミにしてはめずらしいではないか。いつもの部下たちは一緒ではないのだろうか?
〈ロウ〉:まあな‥‥。狼子、曰く!“単独犯の気持ちを知るには、群れを離れるべし”ってな。オレだって1人になるときはあるさ。
〈ミツルギ〉:ほう?だが、それにしてはキミのテーブルにはムジュンがあるようだ。
〈ロウ〉:ハッ!検事さんお得意の“推理”ってやつかい?
〈ミツルギ〉:1人で食べるにしては、注文した料理は“大皿”ばかりで、量はどう見ても20人以上に見えるのだが?
〈ロウ〉:うおおおッ!‥‥しまった。いつものクセでつい頼みすぎちまったようだ。よければ検事さん、少しもらってくれねえか?
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥1人で行動するのは、あまり得意ではないようだな。
〈ミクモ〉:ええ!ロウさん、またこっちに来てるんですか?
〈ミツルギ〉:ああ。以前と違い、なぜか1人で行動していたようだ。
〈ミクモ〉:それは、やっぱり大人数だと忍び込むのが難しくなるからじゃないですか?大ドロボウの鉄則です!
〈ミツルギ〉:彼は“国際捜査官”だろう。‥‥なんにせよ、彼には目的があってこの国に来ているようだったな。
〈ミクモ〉:それじゃ、また現場で会うかもしれませんねー。
〈ミツルギ〉:真実を追い求める気持ちは同じでも、時にはぶつかることもある。もし現場で出会うことがあれば、戦うことになるかもしれないな。
〈ミクモ〉:いいなあ。わたしも自分を高めてくれるようなライバルが欲しいです。ハア‥‥どこかにいないかなあ。大ドロボウを追い詰める好敵手!
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥逮捕されたいのなら、イトノコギリ刑事にでも頼みたまえ。
〈ミクモ〉:もう!そういうことじゃないんです!
〈ミクモ〉:ようやく2月になりましたね!
〈ミツルギ〉:ああ。いよいよだな‥‥。
〈イトノコ〉:2月3日が楽しみッス!
〈イトノコ〉:ウチの警察署では、節分の豆まきをやるッス!2月3日は、タダで大豆が食べられる貴重な日ッスよ!
〈ミクモ〉:わたしは毎年、投げられる豆をどれだけ受け取れるか挑戦してるんですよ!“鬼は外、福は内、大ドロボウは盗み”って感じで!
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥一番大事なことを、忘れているのではないだろうか?
〈ミクモ〉:冗談ですってば!2月3日といえば、もちろんアレですよね!
〈イトノコ〉:逆転検事2の発売日を忘れるワケないッス!
〈ミツルギ〉:ム‥‥ならばいいのだが。
〈ミツルギ〉:発売まであと3日。フォロワーの方々も楽しみに待っていてくれたまえ。
〈ミツルギ〉:冬場の捜査は、寒くてかなわないな‥‥。発売前に風邪を引くわけにはいかん。しっかり防寒対策をしなければな。
〈ミツルギ〉:そういえば、イトノコギリ刑事は年中同じコートを着ているが、寒くないのだろうか‥‥。ああ‥‥単に、給与が下がりすぎて買えないだけかもしれないな。
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥‥‥夕食はイトノコギリ刑事でも誘うとするか。彼の食生活は、はた目から見ていても不安になる。まさか冬にそうめんを食べていることはないだろうが‥‥。
〈ミツルギ〉:検事局の近くに手打ちのうどん屋がある。リーズナブルな値段の割に、味も満足のいくものだ。‥‥‥‥いかん。イトノコギリ刑事を誘うとなると、ついつい麺類にばかり考えがいってしまうな。
〈ミツルギ〉:ム。さきほど発売まであと3日とつぶやいたのだが、発売日はあさって‥‥あと2日だったか。昨夜は、執務室で徹夜仕事だったのでな。日付の感覚が狂ってしまったようだ。
〈ミツルギ〉:私としたことが、つぶやきが“ムジュン”していたとは‥‥失礼した。指摘してくれたフォロワーの方、感謝する。
〈イトノコ〉:カツ丼美味いッスぅううう!今年初めてのトンカツッスよ!
〈ミツルギ〉:イトノコギリ刑事。つぶやきながら食べるのはやめたまえ!
〈イトノコ〉:自分、今年は水炊き鍋で“しらたき”ばかり食べてたッスからねー。
思わず叫んじまったッス!
〈ミクモ〉:叫んだんじゃなく、つぶやきですけどね!
〈ミツルギ〉:ソーメンではなかったが、彼の食生活はいつも危機的状況だな。
〈イトノコ〉:うう‥‥捜査で失敗するたびに、生活費がピンチになるッスからね‥‥。
〈ミクモ〉:でも、いま一番危機が迫っているのは、ミツルギさんのほうなんじゃ?
CMで見ましたよ!“最大のピンチ”だって。
〈イトノコ〉:自分も聞いたッスよ‥‥。いったい、どんな失敗をしちゃったッスか!
〈ミツルギ〉:キミと一緒にしないでくれたまえ!
身に覚えはないが‥‥ピンチを恐れていても仕方がないだろう。
私は、自分の信じる道を行くだけだ。
〈ミクモ〉:さっすがミツルギさん!いざとなったらわたしも力を貸しますからね。大ドロボウとして!
〈イトノコ〉:もちろん自分もッス!ピンチな時の生活費のやりくりならお任せッス!
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥せめて、刑事として力を貸してもらえないだろうか。
〈ミクモ〉:そういえば。ミツルギさんのお父さんって、どんな人なんですか?
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥なぜ、いきなりそんな質問を?
〈ミクモ〉:さっき信楽さんに聞いたんですよ。ミツルギさんのお父さんは、すごく立派な人だったって!わたしもお父さんを尊敬してたから、ちょっと気になっちゃって。
〈ミツルギ〉:幼い頃の私にとっては、尊敬すべき相手であり‥‥目標でもあった。
〈ミクモ〉:あれ?いまは違うんですか?
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥‥‥どうだろうな。一言で説明するのは難しい。この答えを知りたいのならば、明日まで待ってくれたまえ。
〈ミクモ〉:なるほど!逆転検事2に真実が隠されている‥‥と。ミツルギさんの真実、私が盗んじゃいますよ!
〈ミクモ〉:ノコちゃん!そっちの飾りは、もっと右よりでお願い!
〈イトノコ〉:こっちッスね!あ、飾りが落ちたッス!
〈ミツルギ〉:昼間から、人の執務室で何をしているのだ。
〈イトノコ〉:今日は非番ッスからね!明日の発売日に向けて、前夜祭の準備をしてるッスよ!
〈ミクモ〉:そろそろ、つぶやく時間もなくなって来ましたからね!
ミツルギさんは気にせず仕事をしててください!
〈ミツルギ〉:そう思うのなら、机の上にのぼるのはやめていただきたい。
‥‥もう少しで仕事が片付くから、それまで待っていたまえ。
〈ミクモ〉:え!ミツルギさんも手伝ってくれるんですか?
〈ミツルギ〉:私とて祝いたい気持ちはあるのだ。
〈イトノコ〉:助かるッス!
それじゃ時間までソファーに座って待ってるッスよ!
〈ミツルギ〉:‥‥‥‥‥‥廊下で遊んでいてくれないだろうか。
〈イトノコ〉:逆転検事2発売に向けて、乾杯ッス!
〈ミツルギ〉:フッ‥‥前夜祭というのも良いものだな。
〈ミクモ〉:えへへ。明日には、わたしたちのカツヤクをお見せできるんですね!
〈ミツルギ〉:うム。感慨深いモノがあるな。
〈ミクモ〉:わたしたちのつぶやきも、これで最後になるんですね‥‥ちょっと名残惜しいです。
〈ミツルギ〉:だが一週間のあいだ、このような機会をいただけて良かった。直接、感謝を伝えることが出来るのだからな。私たちのつぶやきを見ていた方々。‥‥あらためて礼を言わせていただこう。
〈イトノコ〉:まだまだ話したいことはあるッスけど、もう時間ッスからね!
〈ミクモ〉:でも、まだ前夜祭は始まったばかりですよ!なんと!このあと「逆転検事2」の開発スタッフに直接質問ができちゃうんです!
〈イトノコ〉:へえ!そんな企画があるッスか!
〈ミクモ〉:カプコンから盗んできた情報だから、確実ですよ!18時ぐらいから始まるそうです!
〈ミツルギ〉:私としても聞きたいことはたくさんあるのだが‥‥そこはフォロワーの方々に任せるとしよう。それでは、私たちはこれで失礼する。
〈ミツルギ〉:開発スタッフに聞きたいことがあれば、どんどん追及してくれたまえ!
#ace attorney#aai2#(no spoilers though!)#miles edgeworth#kay faraday#detective gumshoe#my posts#really hoping there isn't some egregious error in there hahaha!#also hoping someone appreciates it half as much as I do#but even if no one does this was fun to look at
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rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst
wc: ~2.2k
warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited
please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write.
It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.
The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.
“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”
“More like who the fuck are you?”
“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.
“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”
“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.
“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”
“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”
Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”
“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”
“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.
His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.
-
He should backtrack.
He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.
You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.
He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”
You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”
And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”
“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.
“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”
“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”
Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”
He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”
At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”
“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”
But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.
The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”
Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”
It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.
Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?
You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”
“…yeah.”
“Should I ask from or to where?”
“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”
You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”
“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”
“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”
“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”
A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”
“Well, you know…”
It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.
And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.
You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.
The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”
Say what now?
“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”
“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”
“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”
“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”
“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”
You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?
“I told you, I don’t need your help—”
“Is she new?”
“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”
“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”
You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.
“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.
“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”
“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.
You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.
You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”
Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.
And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.
#corpse x reader#corpse x y/n#sailor moon!au#corpse husband x reader#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband imagine#corpse husband angst#corpse angst
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I Pretend You’re Mine-2
Chapter Two: We Learn to Live with the Pain (Mosaic Broken Hearts)
Masterlist
A/N: Thanks so much for all of your support on Chapter One. I’m so excited that you love it as much as I do! Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this story. Also, not sure how I feel about this one. Be warned: I hate Jennifer Blake.
Derek and Rose’s ‘engagement’ was supposed to stay a secret between the four of them. So, naturally, all of her friends knew about it. Even if she tried (and she really, really wanted to) Rosalie couldn’t push the thought of the upcoming ruse to the back of her mind. Her friends wouldn’t let her.
It started out innocently enough. A ‘Hey Rosie, Derek looks hot, don’t you think’ here or a ‘Friends to lovers is the best, right Rosalie’ there. Rosalie was used to it. Ever since she returned to Beacon Hills and became close with all of Lydia’s friends, who had somehow become Derek’s in the span of years, they’d been relentless with their teasing of Derek and her.
The joking she could handle.
It was when they used Rosalie’s feelings for Derek for their own amusement that it really started to bug her.
Wednesday had been the day from hell. It all started in Rosalie’s first period class. One of her more bold students, captain of the lacrosse team, had greeted her not with his normal, ‘What up, Miss H?’. No, the boy strutted right in, stopped at her desk, and said, ‘How’s it going, Mrs. Hale?’ with a shit-eating grin. Alex Layhue was normally the last to arrive to class, right before the late bell rang, so, of course, all of Rose’s other students had heard him. And began to refer to her as Mrs. Hale. Which had spread like wildfire, and then all of the kids called Rosalie by Derek’s surname.
It only stopped once she’d threatened detention. By the time eighth period was over, Rosalie was fuming and ready to stomp right out onto the lacrosse field to give her good friend, Assistant Lacrosse Coach Scott McCall, a piece of her mind. Instead, Rosalie raced out the door as soon as she was allowed to leave, forgoing her normal after-school visit to Derek’s classroom.
Rosalie’d reached her apartment, eternally thankful that the shitshow was over, when she had spotted it: a poorly taped rose on the front door, with a sign next to it. A rather crude sign.
Congrats on the D(erek). Love, Isaac. The words were bad enough. Isaac had to go and include a rather accurate drawing of Derek as a, um, d.
She had ripped the sign off the front door, threw it into the wastebasket under the kitchen sink, then punched the damned thing a few more times for good measure.
Then, Rose had called and screamed at Isaac. She couldn’t remember what was said in her anger, but Rosalie knew that a few choice words were thrown in, along with ‘obscene’, ‘tasteless’ and ‘terrible friend’.
Isaac showed up at the woman’s front door an hour after the ‘conversation’ holding a bottle of wine in one hand and takeout in another, a guilty smile on his face. Rosalie forgave him. Eventually.
That night, she’d had a very vivid dream about Derek’s dick. Rosalie woke up the next morning, covered in sweat, and knew that if she saw Derek she would spontaneously combust, and, well, other things that she didn’t want to even ponder.
So, Rosalie spent the rest of the week eating lunch in her car, leaving right after the final bell, and basically avoiding her best friend at all costs.
Until today. Rosalie had been waiting all week to watch this movie, and she would be damned if the deafening bang of construction across the street from her apartment building would keep her from Peter Kavinsky.
The door to the loft slid open, and Derek sauntered in, hands full with grocery bags. He paused at the sight of Rosalie, his face contorted in disgust.
“Get that shit off my TV!” he grumbled.
Rosalie paused the movie, looking up at him with a sharp glare. “It is not shit, Derek Sebastian Hale. It is romance. You wouldn’t know romance if it bit you in the ass.”
Derek scoffed. “Oh yeah? Remember, my senior year, when I showed up in front of my ex’s house all John Hughes-like and quoted Shakespeare at her like a total douche?”
“Mmm, yeah. And that went over swimmingly, didn’t it, Romeo? I specifically remember having to clean the cut on your forehead from the rock that she threw at you.” Rosalie snorted.
Derek ignored her, hauling the bags into the kitchen and shoving items into cabinets. Rose joined him, grabbing a bag of refrigerated foods. As she pulled out the milk, a slip of paper flittered to the ground. She reached down to grab it, stopping short when she found that a phone number was written on the back of the receipt.
“Elena Soto gave you her phone number?” Rosalie asked Derek.
Damn. Rosalie suspected that Elena was after Derek since the day that the new Spanish teacher started at BHHS. Two weeks ago. Girl had game, Rosalie gave her that.
Derek put down the box of noodles in his hand and scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at his friend. Rosalie could see a hint of pink on his cheekbones and wondered if the man had actually gotten a sunburn after years of making fun of her for her lobster-tone skin in the summertime.
“Yeah. She, uh, asked me out to dinner next Saturday night.”
Rosalie straightened herself back up and busied with putting food in the fridge. She feigned nonchalance, asking, “And what did you say?”
“I told her thank you, but I’ll be in Hawaii… with you.”
The woman hid her smug smile in the inside of the refrigerator. Serves Elena right. “I thought you’d forgotten. Since you haven’t, you know, even brought it up since Disneyland.”
“I didn’t forget. And it’s not like you brought it up, either.”
True. Rosalie was avoiding that discussion like the plague. She knew that she’d be able to pull of fake fiancée. She’d had feelings for Derek that were successfully repressed since she was sixteen. But Derek… he’d made it very clear that he felt nothing more than familial love towards Rosalie. How could he convincingly play madly in love with her?
“I’m sorry I cockblocked your hot date with Senorita Soto,” Rose confessed, tone sounding more harsh than intended.
“Rosalie.”
She pulled her head out of the fridge and shut the door. The BB-8 magnet her niece bought him at Disney was displayed proudly towards the top. Rosalie studied it as an excuse to not look at Derek, lest he catch onto her jealousy.
She was losing her touch. Rosalie had built an excellent poker face over the years, and she let her friends’ suggestions and one bold woman break it. Rose had to up her game.
“Rosalie, you know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s why I didn’t bring Elena up. You’re my best friend. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Rosalie smiled deviously up at him, all thoughts of Elena Soto gone and replaced again with Peter Kavinsky. “Does that include watching my romcom?”
Derek rolled his eyes with a playful smile. He eventually gave in after Rose told him she would buy them a pizza.
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Rosalie tried to enjoy the movie, but one thought plagued her mind like some annoyingly catchy song.
Fake dating contract. It was so cringey she didn’t want to bring it up. But she did anyways.
“Hey Derek? This sounds so stupid, but since you and I are two adults playing pretend, don’t you think you and I should, you know, come up with rules for our charade?” Rosalie shoved pizza in her face to distract herself from any comment that would come next.
Derek laughed. “Yeah, ok, Lara Jean Comey.”
“It’s Covey, not Comey… and I’m serious, Der. You and I have both been shit on by our significant others. Don’t you think it would be good for us to come up with some kind of guidelines, so this doesn’t get out of hand and neither of us get hurt?”
Derek sighed, putting his plate down on the coffee table and giving Rosalie his full attention. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Rosalie bit her lip, thinking. When she came up with nothing, she asked, “Do you have any dealbreakers?”
“I’m not making Drew jealous,” he swiftly announced.
Rosalie’s eyes shot up to his. “I’m not in love with Drew anymore, so there’s no need to make him jealous.”
“Thank God. What about you?”
She ignored the former comment. Rose did have a dealbreaker. She knew it would sound totally prudish on her end, but Rosalie knew her limits.
“No… No kissing.”
“What do you mean no kissing? Like, I can’t kiss you at all, or no tongue? Because I sure as hell know that we won’t be believable if I can’t kiss you.”
“And how would you know that?”
Derek pursed his lips. “I remember having an in-depth conversation with your brother about how gross you and Drew were together.”
Rosalie gaped at him. “And you didn’t stick your tongue down Jennifer’s throat at your engagement party?! It was like witnessing some messed-up porno. And, in my defense, Drew initiated every public—”
“I did not have my tongue down Jen’s throat!”
“Then why did Laura tell you two to get a room?”
Derek scowled. “Moving on…”
“Ok, rule 1: yes, to kissing. No tongue.” Rose ticked on her finger. “Two, no checking out other women. Like, at all.”
“You think I would do that when I’m engaged? I’m not a total dick.”
“I know that Derek. I’m just saying, when you were younger—”
“When I was younger. I’ve matured a lot since I was eighteen.”
She smacked his shoulder playfully. “You sure about that, Mr. I-throw-a-tantrum-every-time-I-lose-to-Scott-at-pool?”
“Shut up.”
“You can’t deny it, Hale. I know you too well… anything else to add?”
“No sex,” Derek said so suddenly that Rosalie about fell out of her spot on the couch.
“I…” She started, but couldn’t formulate a sentence, so she just nodded her agreement.
They sat in silence for a while, Rosalie processing what the hell happened.
“Let me warn you now. I don’t know how to be a good fiancé,” Derek added so softly that Rosalie might have missed it if she wasn’t so in tune with him.
“Derek…” She looked up to meet his green eyes, full of turmoil, of ghosts of past hurts. A haunted look that Rosalie knew too well. Only because she wore it too, late at night when she was alone with her demons.
Rosalie’s heart broke for him, and she pulled him into a hug. Derek was rarely vulnerable, preferring to keep those emotions locked tight. Rosalie was thankful that he opened himself up enough to let her see that side of him.
“You were a good fiancé, Der. It wasn’t your fault, that it ended. Jennifer was a bitch… I knew she wasn’t good for you,” Rosalie whispered into his shoulder, squeezing him tight so he knew that she meant every word.
Derek’s hot breath fanned over Rose’s neck as he spoke. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”
She pulled away from him, leaving her hands on his shoulders. Rosalie set him with an unimpressed look. “Would you have listened?”
Derek shook his head, a small smile overtaking the once hard line of his lips. “Nah, probably not.”
___________________________________________________________
Tags: @wolfarrowepz
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Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6
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Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."
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Rating: M
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Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
AO3
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A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!
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Chapter 6 . .
Be not inhospitable to strangers,
lest they be angels in disguise.
(W. B. Yeats)
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When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.
He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.
Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.
“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.
Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”
“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”
“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.
“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”
“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.
“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”
“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”
“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”
“No problem.”
While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.
“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.
“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.
Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”
“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”
Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”
“A while.” Another elusive answer.
He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”
“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”
“And Emma?”
“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”
After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.
He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.
Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.
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Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.
During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.
“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”
“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”
The boy greeted him with a wide grin.
Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”
“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.
“I see. And why are you…?”
Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.
“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.
“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.
The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.
“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”
The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”
The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”
“Why boring?”
Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”
“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.
“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”
Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.
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~·~·~·~
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Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.
All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.
But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.
So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.
David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.
Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”
She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.
“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.
“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.
“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”
“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.
The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”
“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”
After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.
She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.
Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.
Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”
“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.
Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”
She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.
Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.
“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.
At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”
.
.
~·~·~·~
.
.
Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.
Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.
He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.
“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.
She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.
Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”
It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.
“And she for you, I take it?”
Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.
“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.
“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.
Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”
The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”
“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.
“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”
.
.
~·~·~·~
.
.
The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.
After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.
Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”
Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.
Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.
But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.
Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.
“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”
The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”
“Thank you, mate.”
“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.
“May I help?” Henry barged in.
A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.
“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.
“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.
Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”
The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.
“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”
“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.
“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.
Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”
.
.
~·~·~·~
.
.
If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.
There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.
Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.
On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.
And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.
Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.
Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.
Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.
"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.
Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.
Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.
“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.
Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.
“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.
.
.
~·~·~·~
.
.
Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.
“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”
He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”
“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”
He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.
In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.
He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.
Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.
“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”
She didn’t answer.
Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.
She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”
She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
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Parent/Teacher Night: Ch 2, Remember When
In which Shino recalls some thens and compares them to the nows, and gets inspired to change some things with Kiba's encouragement.
*Modern AU, Swearing
**You can find this on AO3 now too, along with the first chapter. Let's gooooooooo!!!
•••
"He asked to trade numbers?" Kiba repeated, pausing all motion, chopsticks mid snatch for a gyoza.
"Yes. Is that... Weird?"
"Well, no."
Kiba reached over and chose his specimen, a plump piece just asking to be dipped. Shino continued eat his steamed rice. It was okay if Kiba wanted the last of the gyoza. Shino thought he might enjoy a serving of the restaurant's ice-cream after he finished his meat instead.
"But even I don't have Shikamaru's number. Least not his current one."
"You don't?"
"Nah," Kiba took in the gyoza whole and spoke as he chewed, "but ah neber bothered doo update it, I hab 'im on my socials anyway."
"Oh."
He swallowed, "But you didn't even have any kind of social media until later in college. You were late to the game!"
"I didn't see the point then..."
"And that's fine. He probably doesn't even know you have them now. But you know he's been pretty absent from social media too. Figures."
"According to Ino, he's been back in town since April."
"Well of course Ino would know, she's always been in everyone else's business. Especially Shikamaru's, and Choji's too!"
Shino silently made a face, distorting the corner of his mouth as if reluctant to agree, but Kiba barked out a laugh when he caught him.
"It's true though, isn't it!? You would know, Shino!"
Shino didn't plan to be seen, but oh well, "I think it's just her way of showing she cares. Those three are practically family, aren't they?"
Kiba sighed and rolled his eyes, "Listen, dude, just cause you 'dated' her for a couple of years back in college doesn't mean you have to be nice after the fact. It's okay! She has her manipulative bitchy side too. How else could she make it as a therapist."
"Psychiatrist."
"That."
Kiba emphasized the word "dated" in such a way that caused Shino to scowl. Geez, if Ino didn't insist on sharing pictures online...
"Don't invalidate my opinions just because you think they're biased, Kiba. Also, people grow from high school, don't be stuck in the past either."
"I'm not saying it's invalid, geez, but ever since you've always been soft on her..."
"Jealous?"
Kiba immediately threw a dirtied, crumpled up napkin at Shino's head as he blew raspberries in disbelief. Of course Shino dodged it.
"And that!" Kiba almost yelled, though he had a huge smile on his face, "You're sass meter has been off the charts since then!"
"I thought I was just asking a question," Shino simply replied, though he smiled too.
"Fucking jerk," he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, sighing dreamily, "Why would I be jealous when I'm with Tamaki now?"
Shino suppressed the urge to crinkle up his nose, "I remember back in high schoo-"
"THAT WAS HIGH SCHOOL!!" Kiba interrupted, not upset but voice almost breaking in both embarrassment and amusement simultaneously, "Now who's the one stuck in the past!"
"Well anyway, I was just curious if you had heard from him recently, because this was the first time I had seen him since he was an undergrad. That was a while ago."
"Same here, bud. But then here's a thought, if he's just working these days, and he's giving out his number to old friends, maybe we should all get together sometime! So why don't you also friend him on socials while you're at it?"
Shino paused and considered the suggestion.
Shino could do that. Actually, Shino could have done so a long time ago if he had wanted to. But for all the times he had seen Shikamaru's obvious username and cloud icon, he never sent friend request himself. He created his socials for the sole purpose of studygroup based messaging and had planned to delete his social media after school ended for good. But two months in and Kiba somehow found him, and then shortly after Hinata did too. Then Naruto also found Shino and from there he actually aquired a few more friend requests, including from Lee and Sai. Even Ino sent him a friend request, though Ino and Shino had actually attended the same University in the beginning. And then she called him out on it the next time she saw him in person, because how could Shino friend nearly all their mutuals and NOT Ino? He even friended Sakura before Ino! Though, Shino had a suspicion Sakura's request may had been a result of clumsy typing. Shino definately hadn't meant anything by it, but that started a series of... interesting talks between the two. But all and all, Shino suspected that's why he saw Shikamaru's icon so often, among others he didn't quite recognize himself.
Of course Shino knew he didn't have to accept the requests at all. He could've delete them even. But... it didn't seem right to ignore them either. And maybe it felt... kinda nice being reached out to...
"I mean, shit, maybe I should shoot him a message too..." Kiba mused.
"... I was under the impression it was for Mirai's sake."
Kiba perked up, "Huh?"
"That's because a cellphone number is a personal and direct line. If Mirai is currently under my care as a student, wouldn't it make sense to have multiple contacts in case of an emergency?"
Kiba sighed. Typical Shino, "Did Shikamaru say it was strictly for emergencies only?"
"... No."
"So, Dude, maybe... just maybe, Shikamaru simply isn't aware that you have socials? I know I know... social media is meant to be for socializing, but so are direct lines! Why does a direct line have to be so off limits? You're not a stranger to Shikamaru either, Shino. I mean, if anything, he probably trusts you a lot, knowing the kind of person you've ways been. It's a personal line after all, right?"
Not a stranger, but definitely not the person closest the Shikamaru either... It didn't quite make sense beyond Mirai's safety... but, maybe that was Shino's own opinion...
"... I'm over thinking it again."
"Yup."
"... Maybe I will. I'm already friends with Ino and Choji..."
"Yeah! Just complete the trio! Here let's see..." Kiba took out his phone and started to review something, "... I think the only people you're not friends with besides Shikamaru are... Sasuke, who simply deleted everything at one point, Neji, but he really only followed me because of Hinata," Kiba added wearily, "aaand a lot of... other people... but, like, you're better off that way. I have a lot of those assholes blocked or didn't bother. Even Sasuke had been more better of an option than them!"
"Like who?"
"Like I had to block Shikamaru's psycho ex-girlfriend Tayuya. Fucking nightmare that girl was..."
"Ah... the flute player," Shino wasn't all that to date back in the day either, but even he knew about Tayuya...
"Sure that was YEARS ago, and maybe she's different now? But she was... not okay then. To be fair, Shikamaru wasn't blameless, but cripes... After the break-up she was constantly stalking him online... I've just kept her blocked for good measure, I don't know if she's still even there."
Another reason Shino didn't want social media at the time... It made it too easy to let people in. In all honesty the idea had felt overwhelming, and sometimes still does...
"So you're good there."
"Sasuke, Shikamaru, Neji..."
"... Anyone else?"
"... I think those are the last few people from back then I'd actually tolerate. Shikamaru had been your friend, and Sasuke... wasn't always so aloof before he disappeared... And then Neji is Hinata's cousin..."
"Ha! Perfect! So then why not friend Neji too, just for the hell of it? You two had some kind of bro pact, I do remember that."
"He just worried about Hinata, Kiba. Between you and Naruto, I could see why."
"Sue me Shino, it's not my fault the school was full of cute girls!" Kiba nearly whined, but with a ridiculously dopey smile on his face.
It made Shino think. Shikamaru was one of the only people he more regularly saw who didn't reach out to him. But of course Shikamaru had a problem with a stalker at one point. That would make anyone weary of social media. Kiba had even stated he wasn't on much. Shino couldn't fault him for that.
Sasuke apparently deleted his, but it wasn't like they were the closet to begin with, despite humble beginnings. Shino had his fair share of complaints when it came to Sasuke, but when he transferred to a different school before senior year started, even Shino felt his absence.
And recalling high school, Neji did once ask for Shino's socials before. But it was obviously for the same reason of wanting to keep extra tabs on his little cousin and her "new friends" in Environmental Club. Shino had already explained he didn't have any, and he wasn't sure Neji believed him, but had agreed to be very careful with Hinata, who had started to hang out with he and Kiba more after they returned her book she had left in the club classroom. Shino kept it as Kiba was terribly tempted to take a peek, but once it had been returned, and Kiba expressed his curiosity, Hinata shyly presented them with page after page of pressed flowers, all marked with name, date, and little tidbits of info. She became even more bashful at Kiba's amazement and Shino's praise. It was just very well organized and aesthetically pleasing, something she and Ino would bond over later into their friendships.
So then, it was very surprising to know that such a timid girl had an incredible amount of skill in Martial Arts, but had opted to join Environment Club instead of Martial Arts Club. It was less of a shock to find out she and the school's Number One MAC member were related, first cousins even. They had a strong resemblance to each other.
As for Shino and Neji, their mutual fondness for Hinata became a source of camaraderie at some point. Despite expectations and Neji's sterness, all he really wanted was for Hinata to simply have fun during school, and he very much appreciated Shino looking out for her. So Kiba wasn't wrong. And in current time, Hinata had ultimately decided she was gonna live out of town due to... many reasons, but mainly because of her job as a pastry chef in a very successful and family owned cafe and bakery. Of course cinnamon rolls were her specialty, but Shino's feed always had some of the most delightful pictures of various decorated confections, most made by her too. He wasn't the biggest fan of sweets in general, but he was very fond of her handy work. You could tell she loved her job with every detail.
"Crap! Hey Shino, did you wanna order anything to go?"
"Uh, no. I think that was enough."
"Alright cause it's about time I go meet Tamaki," Kiba grinned, "Here's my part!"
Kiba slammed a twenty dollar bill down onto the table and hurriedly put his jacket back on. When Shino looked at the time it was nearly half past six. Oh, the reservation was made for seven. Maybe he talked too much.
"We might've pushed it, Kiba."
"No way, it's fine! I mean I don't mind going if that's where she wants to go, but you know how fancy places are! I need food Shino, actual food!"
Shino was glad that his friend was putting in so much effort for this girl. It seemed like he really liked her, and she was pretty cute, and also... nice. But when it came to things like this, Shino wasn't sure how long this was really gonna last. But it probably wasn't his place to comment.
"Make sure Akamaru takes his medicine, he'll definitely down it if you give him the peanut butter too."
"Sure, no problem."
"Also, Shino."
"Yes?"
"Seriously, don't be so shy! Just friend them!"
"Stop dawdling, you're gonna be late."
Kiba laughed as he waved and nearly jogged out of the restaurant. After paying and boxing the rest of Kibas plate for later (Shino was sure his idiot friend was gonna be hungry again) Shino headed out to Kiba's apartment. He already had a key, ever since he had come back to town. They had always been close like that, though with these new developments Shino always made it a point to give Kiba space and a heads up.
Akamaru was getting old. This medicine was supposed to help him in his old age, and just as Kiba said, Akamaru took the medication with no problem. Shino also made sure that the bowls were full of water and food. Because there was now also Akemaru, a younger dog of the same breed that Kiba had come across one day at the shelter. After only a few weeks and no adoptions, Kiba couldn't resist and ended up adopting him, and he and Akamaru became very close. As a favor to their otherwise absent owner, Shino got the younger and more energetic dog ready for a walk. When Shino offered to take Akamaru, the old boy wagged his tail and came to lick Shino's hand, but then retreated back to his bed and laid down. Looks like that was gonna be a pass, but he was thankful for the offer.
...
Shit.
Okay. Okay, that was it. Actually, this was perfect. Before Shino really started the walk, he pulled out his phone. He scrolled through he recommended friends list of his most commonly used social and easily found the cloud icon that belonged to Shikamaru. It was the same app he even had people like Kurenai and his father on. Just being able to keep anyone of relevance to his social circles on the same app was fine. It kept them close, but not too close either. Available, but at a distance. The only other people who had Shino's personal line were Kiba, Hinata, Kurenai, his father Shibi, Torune and Neji.
Shino hadn't mentioned that to Kiba, but in reality, they hadn't kept much contact anyway. So Shino hoped Kiba didn't snoop his friends list later, but he decidedly sent Shikamaru a friend request and put his phone away into a pocket. Then after switching out his glasses, as to see better in the evening, he left the apartment and began his walk with Akemaru. This would definitely keep him from getting too anxious about it. Shino didn't really know why he was like this, but it was done and now it was up the Shikamaru if he really wanted to catch up. Not that there was a whole lot to catch up on. He was more Kiba's friend after all, always had been, but Shino was sure Kiba didn't really think about that kind if thing too deeply.
Thankfully there was a park a couple blocks down, which even in the evening looked easy to navigate. The air was fresh and chilly, but tolerable with his coat on. Akemaru was good on a leash, and so Shino was able to keep a steady but not rushed pace. He followed a predetermined path, one Shino was actually familiar with too and so he was able to relax as his body went into coast mode.
...
It was nice. Just focusing on the walk. But Shino couldn't help thinking back to his high school days too. Seeing Shikamaru hadn't really been a shock so much as a surprise. He definitely... grew. His voice was deeper. His hair seemed more or less the same length, but maybe looked longer as now he styled it differently. Instead of the low and rather disheveled ponytail he used to wear, he now kept it only half up it looked like. Shino didn't think it looked bad at all, but with some loose strands in his face and the more casual clothes he had been wearing, Shino really wondered if Shikamaru wasn't more or less dragged last minute to PTN. But maybe he was thinking of the Shikamaru from before. Because this Shikamaru was actually... really approachable. And very kind with his words. Maybe that's what growing up some did to people.
Because the one from before was always annoyed, and grumpy, and quiet unless spoken to, yet Naruto and his shenanigans always put a mischievous smirk on his face. Shino had found him a little intimidating. But it wasn't until Kiba and Naruto decided to drag Shino AND Hinata out to a lunchtime hangout and pretty much threw them into the mix of different friends they shared that Shino met Shikamaru, as well as most everyone else. Shino had recognized Ino, and Ino did too after he mentioned Torune, seeing as Torune and Foo both graduated the year before.
"Torune? Like, short black hair, really thick glasses?"
"He has green eyes too."
"Hey, yeah! You're my cousin's boyfriend's cousin! What a small world!"
It was pretty lame introduction.
"And... you're Ino, right?"
"Wow, Ino, he remembered you!" a pink haired girl chastised.
"Oh, shut up, Forehead, it's not like we ever really hung out before. I think we met, like, once at one of Foo's birthdays?"
"That's true," Shino agreed, "I just went for the drive to drop off his present since that day he couldn't stay. You're mom insisted on giving us goodie bags anyway before we left."
"Ugh, good, our parents always go over the top with the decorations and stuff, believe me!"
"Ino, you are over the top."
"Shikamaru, no one was talking to you!"
"Wait, wait wait, your cousin Foo has a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, what of it," Ino immediately scowled at Kiba.
It made Kiba shut up immediately, but then he turned to Shino and whispered, "Hey, is your cousin gay?"
Shino shrugged, "I didn't ask, but it's none of my business." He was. Shino had known but Torune never outright told him they were officially dating. So as far as he was concerned it was a mystery.
"What about you, Hinata, I don't think we've met before. I'm Sakura."
"Um, hello-"
"Actually! We're in Home Ec together!" another boy munching on chips said, "She made the best cinnamon rolls in class the other day!"
Hinata blushed, "Ah, thank-you, Choji..."
"Cinnoman rolls!? I saw that that roll! Hinata, that was yours!?" Naruto asked, super impressed.
She only blushed even harder, "It might've been...!?"
"It was!" Choji confirmed.
"Naruto stop crowding already!" Sakura scolded, poking him against the side of his forehead, "You can be so loud!"
"Augh, alright, Sakura stop!"
It had actually been a relatively friction free integration. Hinata and the girls got along faster than he would've guessed, and later Shino and Sasuke would meet again, with Naruto giving Shino a suspicious stink-eye.
"We've been in the same classes since elementary school," Shino commented, "You have to really go out of your way to ignore someone for that long..."
"Hn..." As friendly as always...
...
From then on, Kiba always insisted on Shino and Hinata joining them at lunch, which Shino did. But Shino couldn't quite fathom the idea of sacrificing his after school time to go to out and do... well, who even knew? Back then, he had a routine, he had things to tend to back home. His terrariums that his father put him in charge of, his guitar practice because he wasn't about to let those lessons go to waste, his study time, and planning for EC activities as he was a more involved member, he was already a busy guy. At least that's what he used to think. But he would be a sad ass liar if he didn't appreciate the invitations. Towards the end he broke a few time at his father's insistence. He was mentally drained each time, but he did have fun, and Kiba always seemed excited to recall the events with Shino after.
Once he had attended collage, Shino really wished he would have taken more time to simply enjoy a more decent social life with the people he called friends at school outside of school. Was he too shy? Was he too selective? Was he socially inept? It didn't matter now. It wasn't until Shino's very first job that he felt like he got to a level he wished he could've reached sooner. Being a cashier at a fast food chain really taught you how to handle and tolerate people, and definitely brought Shino out if his shell more than he would've ever thought. College in general did a lot for him in that respect.
... Kiba was right. If old friends were reaching out, why couldn't Shino do the same?
Well, apparently the universe was glad he agreed, because the second he did, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Shino stopped in place and Akemaru whined. When he checked his phone, he saw not only a "Request Accepted" message but also a simple text message as well, also from Shikamaru.
-----
Hey, can you talk? Call me if you can.
-----
Oh what the fuck.
Shino felt his nerves stand at attention with the prospect of a sudden conversation. What... What did Shikamaru even want right now? Did he really want to talk now?
... No. No, dammit, no! Not this time. Shino took a deep breath and continued to walk, much to Akemaru's delight. And as he got a steady rhythm, Shino highlighted Shikamaru's number and pressed "Call".
It was settled. If he was gonna start making up for lost time, it was now or never, awkward interactions be damned!
#anime: naruto#shikashino#aburame shino#shino aburame#shikamaru nara#nara shikamaru#dusk's fanfic#gosh look at me im on a friggin roll wtf#i know it probably has a lot left to be desired technically and diction wise#but im trying!
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Drabble 147
Playing Cards
“Ready for another fun afternoon of guys time?” Eugene smiled warmly.
“Yeah!” Varian pumped his fists. “What do you have planned this time?”
“Today we're going to introduce you to blackjack.” Eugene answered.
“I'm the best at blackjack. I won all the games at the orphanage.” Lance boasted.
“I can't figure out how he does it.” Eugene whispered. “But he's very good at it.”
“What are the girls doing?” Varian asked as he took a seat. Ruddiger rubbed up against his legs, chittering with excitement.
“They're making bird feeders with Rapunzel. But trust me, this is way more fun.” Lance insisted.
“Oh.” Varian thought bird feeders sounded pretty good, so blackjack must really be something amazing to be considered the superior activity.
“I've got 4 decks here. We shuffle all the decks together and deal out two cards to everyone. The idea is to get 21 points or as close to it as you can. Each card is worth the value of the card from 2 to 10. Face cards, that is jacks, queens, and kings, are also worth 10. The ace can be worth 1 or 11 points, your choice. If you have a low number, you can be 'hit' again and we'll deal you another card. But if you go over 21, you lose. If your hand is better than the other players, you win. The dealer 'hits' on 16 or lower and stays on 17 or above. If the dealer goes 'bust' or over 21, all the players win. But if the dealer has the best hand, all of the players lose.” Eugene explained. “Since you're new to this, we'll use candy in place of gold coins. You can bet whatever you want.” Eugene dumped out a bag of candies which the group quickly measured into 3 equal piles.
“Okay.” Varian had memorized the rules already and was working out a system. If he assigned all the cards from 2-6 with +1, 7-9 with 0, and 10-ace with -1, he could keep a running count of the cards played. And if he divided that total by the number of decks in play (4) he'd know the true count. A high total meant there were plenty of face cards left to draw and the advantage was to the player. A low total meant there were fewer remaining face cards and the advantage was to the dealer.
“Here we go. I'm dealer.” Lance dealt the cards. He had one face up card, the 5 of hearts and one face down card, to make the players have to guess at his total. Eugene showed 17 (7 of spades and king of clubs) and Varian 14 (6 of clubs, 8 of spades.) Lance looked at his hidden card (a queen of clubs).
“Are you betting?” Eugene asked.
“Yes.” Varian nodded the running count was +1 (from the 5, 6, and King played). It wasn't truly in his favor yet, but betting on the first round would help him get the feel for how the others played. Varian slid a candy into the center of the table.
“Wanna bet, Eugene?” Lance turned to his friend.
“I'm in too.” Eugene slid two candies into the center.
“Will you hit?” Lance asked Varian.
Varian nodded. “Yeah.” He got another card, a 5 of diamonds, making his score 19.
“How bout you, Eugene?” Lance asked.
“I’ll hit too. Gotta show the kid the ropes.” Eugene professed. He was handed a 3 of clubs. At 20, Eugene was winning.
“You can still hit kid, but you might go bust.” Lance warned.
“I'll stay.” Varian decided, hoping the dealer would bust.
“I'm staying too.” Eugene announced.
“Okay, now I reveal my cards.” Lance showed that he had a 15 total. “Less than 17 so dealer hits.” He drew a 6 of diamonds and totaled 21. “As I expected, the dealer wins.” Lance said smugly.
“I want to play again.” Varian may have lost, but he saw possibilities for how he might win in later rounds. Lance nodded and dealt a 2nd round of cards. They played peacefully for 10 rounds, before Varian started frowning.
“Something wrong, little man? Jealous of my winnings, perhaps?” Lance laughed.
Varian scowled. “Jealous of your cheating, maybe. There's only supposed to be 4 queens of clubs, and you've played 5!” he accused.
“I-I don't know what you're talking about.” Lance bluffed.
“Ruddiger thinks otherwise. Show him, boy.” Varian pointed his raccoon at Lance, and Ruddiger immediately jumped on top of him.
“Hey now, stop it.” Lance tried to get rid of the raccoon, but Ruddiger merely dug his little paws in and continued to climb. He got to Lance's left sleeve and sniffed suspiciously.
“Don't touch, you're gonna tear it!” Lance bellowed. Ruddiger pawed at the sleeve, dislodging 3 queens and 4 aces that Lance had hidden up his sleeves.
“I knew it. I knew you were cheating when the queen showed up twice in my count!” Varian said righteously.
“Lance, I am so disappointed in-- wait, what do you mean by count, Varian?” Eugene was dismayed.
“I keep a running count of all the cards that have been played.” Varian answered, and began explaining his system. Lance was snickering, but Eugene looked upset.
“You're not supposed to count cards! It ruins the game if you can predict what's coming next, instead of guessing and relying on luck.” Eugene pointed out.
“But it's not breaking the rules, is it?” Varian persisted.
“...Not technically, but if another dealer found out about your system, I guarantee you'd be thrown out of the game. You can still play with us, but if you're gonna count cards, you can't bet.” Eugene compromised.
“Tough going, Varian. Looks like I'll be the one with the most candies.” Lance reached down to eat one, and got his hand slapped by Eugene.
“I haven't forgotten about you! Cards up your sleeve, how could you? And I bet this isn't the first time you've cheated, either!” Eugene fumed.
“Well, at least you'd win one bet.” Lance tried to defuse the situation with humor but Eugene wasn't having it.
“Both of you are spoiling what should have been a fun game! I'm done here.” Eugene brushed aside the remaining cards down on the table, then scooped up all the candies. “As the only one here who played properly, the candies are mine.” Eugene declared.
“Well that hardly seems fair. Nobody told me math wasn't allowed.” Varian grumbled.
“And I've been playing this way for years. It didn't bother him when he didn't know about the hidden cards.” Lance added.
“...That was kinda neat. If I hadn't been counting, I never would have suspected you'd hidden cards somewhere. Could you maybe teach me how to put cards in my sleeves?” Varian asked.
“Only if you teach me that counting system. I don't understand it, but it sure got Eugene worked up!” Lance said.
“It's a deal.” Varian stuck out his hand, and Lance shook it, making a few more cards fall to the floor. Eugene sighed, but he knew when he was beaten. It would take awhile for him to trust Lance and Varian enough to play cards again, and even then there wouldn't be any betting allowed.
The End
For some reason, I really like that Lance and Varian have learned completely the wrong lesson from all of this. Poor Eugene, stuck being the only 'honest' one.
#tangled the series#tts#tts varian#tangled varian#varian#tts eugene#tangled eugene#eugene#Eugene Fitzherbert#team awesome#tts lance#tangled lance#lance#lance strongbow#fanfiction#fanfic#my fiction
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Offside Pt 12
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
Series Masterlist!
Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU
Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader
Word Count: 2k
Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!
You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.
Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Also Jimin not letting the female MC live for one day, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!
You hesitantly knock and wait for the guy’s sweet voice calling “Come in” before twisting the doorknob and entering doctor Kim’s room. He brings his eyes up to you and flashes you his usual sweet smile as he points at the chair in front him “Come in, who caused trouble this time?”
“No one,” you quickly shake your head to reassure him, unzipping your bag as you take out the green colored journal “I’m here to talk to you about this Dr Kim!”
Your heart sinks at his sweet smile fading on his lips, expression immediately sunken as he murmurs “He didn’t accept, did he?”
“He did,” you speak up, not bearing to give the young doctor more heartache “He said he’ll do it?”
“Really?” The young doctor immediately shifts in his seat, face lighting up with hope “Jeon accepted to do the diary? How?”
“Yeah,” you nod with a reassuring smile “I’m checking on him three times a week, plus two days of training that I’m on shift.”
“Wow,” the words slip out of his lips and he hesitates for a few moments before sighing in relief “It doesn’t feel real,” He then reaches to hold your hand as he mutters “Thank you, Y/N.”
“That’s fine,” you smile, cheeks blushing at the sudden contact of his hand on yours, after 2 years you still cant deny you'd risk it all for the etheral looking guy “I’m glad it worked out.”
“So when are you guys starting?” You almost pout when he pulls his hand away as he quickly types a few things on his computer “Can I book you in for weekly meetings with myself, so I can review his diary as well?”
“Sure, I can come in an hour before the training on Fridays if that works for you.”
“Sounds good,” he nods before pausing his typing and looking at you “Instead I’ll talk to the admin team and we’ll add an hour to your roster. You’re not doing this for free on my watch.”
“I- I’m not doing this for money,” You quickly interject “It’s a great experience for me too! I appreciate this opportunity as it is. ”
“Of course you do,” he nods before sending you a warm smile “but I really appreciate what you’re doing too. But you’re sacrificing you time and only then I’d feel comfortable for taking your time.”
“Alright!” you nod as you quickly reach inside your bag “Dr Kim, I had a question …”
“Sure, what is it?”
“I have a friend who’s quitting smoking,” you start with a hesitant tone, hoping that he doesn’t pick on who exactly you’re talking about “I heard that the side effects can be quite bad in the beginning. Is that true?”
“Well it depends on each person,” Dr Kim nods “but often the first few days can be quite rough, has your friend try nicotine gums or patches?”
“I- I’m not sure!”
He quickly reaches for his drawer and grabs a small rectangular box and places in front of you “This is a nicotine gum sample I usually give my patients, give this to your friend and ask him to give it a go. If this doesn’t work, he should try the patches, they’re usually stronger and have a more lasting effect.”
“Thank you,” you quickly grab the box “I’ll have him give it a go and see how he goes.”
“I’m glad I was any help,” he says with a wide grin before looking at the clock “ You have training in a bit. I’ll see you Friday then.”
“See you then Dr Kim!”
You quickly leave his room and make your way downstairs to the changing room to prepare your kit for the training when you find Jungkook sitting in the changing room, scrolling on his phone. When he hears your footstep, he looks up at you, raising one eyebrow
“Hey,” you wave hesitantly as you place your backpack on the table “What’s up?”
“I was looking for my inhaler,” he shrugs pointing at one of the draws “I couldn’t find it there.”
“Oh right,” you quickly rush to one of the cabinets and grab your kit “I forgot to put it back after the last training,” you quickly grab the inhaler and the spacer and walk back to where he’s sitting “Sorry about that!”
He grabs the inhaler and moves it closer to his lips but pauses as he notices your demanding gaze on himself “What?”
“The spacer,” you wave the plastic device in front of him “10% more medication? More useful? did you forget?”
He sighs looking away from you before muttering “Well since you’re here, why don’t you do it for me?”
“What-“ you gasp as he reaches for the back of your waist and pulls you on his lap. You stumble forward and have to hold onto his shoulders to balance yourself as you plop down on his lap, face a few inches away from his “What are you doing?” you ask as he locks his hands tightly around you
“You’re not gonna give me medication standing, would you?” He rolls his eyes as he hands you the inhaler
“What if the guys come here,” You shift uncomfortably, peeking at the door “They’ll get the wrong idea.”
“Isn’t that better for you?” He shrugs “Maybe they’ll think you’re taken and stop checking out your ass!”
“No one checks out my ass-“
“Mhmm,” he nods with a knowing smile “Sure, they don’t imagine what they’ll do to you when you bend waist down to grab the bottles of water wishing you could quench their other thirst.”
“Guys are disgusting!” you cringe and put the spacer and inhaler together and bring it up to place it between his lips “Don’t forget, head up, push your tongue!”
“God, you have a specific way of giving instructions” He smirks as he cups your neck and whispers “I’ll definitely use that when you finally suck my dick. I don’t like too much tongue.”
“Jeon, don’t test my patience,” you sigh “I’ll shove this spacer down your throat.”
“I’ll take my chance,” he smirks “As long as I can have my cock down your throat.”
You shake your head in defeat as you actually shove the spacer between his lips “I’ll press the canister and start counting, don’t breathe out too quickly.”
He just watches you with his deer like eyes as you press the canister and start counting, watching his chest as he holds his breath and finally releases it after you finish on the count of 10.
“You can do the second one yourself right?” you quickly move off his lap “the guys will barge in any second, we don’t want them to see us like this.” You quickly prepare your kit as you hear him
“Why not?”
You turn around and watch him stare at you with questioning eyes
“Because you said you don’t want anyone to see us together.” You furrow your eyebrows
“What?” he asks in a confused tone “when did I say that?”
“The day I was at your place,” you say defensively “you said you don’t want anyone to see us together, so Its better for me to come to your place for the checkup.”
“I didn’t say that,” he rolls his eyes “I said I don’t want anyone to see us!”
“W-What’s the difference,” You ask with a lost tone “potatoes, potAtoes,” you smile as you quickly look away to hide your emotions “You have a reputation to hold up. I get it Jeon, Don’t worry!” you say as you quickly cut the tapes into pre-measured pieces
“What reputation? What are you talking about?” he asks as he finally stands up and walks to you, grabbing your arm and stopping you from your fiddle with the tapes
“I’m talking about your reputation as the Hanguk’s Golden boy,” you say matter of factly trying not to show that voicing out the words actually hurts you pride “I’m not dumb. Being seen around campus with a girl like me is not gonna do your reputation any favor.” you keep it together and try to sound as cool as you can although you know deep down you’re not cool.
“What’s wrong with a girl like you?” He scoffs
“I- I mean,” your eyes wander around slightly embarrassed to respond, “I’m a nerd, compared to the girls that are usually around you. You know what I mean?”
“No, I don’t know what you mean!” Jungkook responds with a cold tone, shutting you off
“OH-“ you gulp slightly nervous about his icy response, It’s not like you said anything bad about him, you only depreciated yourself in this conversation and he looks offended as if you called HIM a nerd “I didn’t mean it in a bad way- I mean those girls are hot, like so fucking hot I would have a crush on them. And then there is me, like look at me-“you laugh nervously but stop mid-sentence when finally speaks up
“Y/N, just shut up,” he shakes his head and closes his eyes and you nervously press your lips together, physically trying to seal them so no words come out “When I said I don’t want anyone to see us-“ he pauses biting the corner of his lips as he adds “it’s because I don’t want anyone knowing I have asthma.”
“W-What?” you ask even more lost than you were a few minutes ago
“Its because of my asthma!” he sighs “That’s why I said I don’t want anyone to see us,” he hesitates before adding “while I’m taking my medication.”
“Oh,” you breath out and immediately start hating yourself for being so dumb “I-I’m so sorry!” you bite your lips
“It’s fine,” he gulps and for the first time you see a side of him you’ve never seen before, the vulnerable side you always wondered if the Hanguk’s Golden boy even possess behind his rough and cocky exterior
“Jungkook, but-” you hesitate as he brings his glazy eyes to you “There is nothing wrong with having a condition like asthma. Its not like you've chosen to have asthma, you were born with it. that’s why I didn’t even guess that’s the reason,” you pause a few seconds waiting for him to respond but his sorrowful eyes tells you he’s still not convinced “Coming so far you have despite it all, being the best in your team and in your school as an athlete, If I was you, I would have worn It like a medal. This is nothing you should be ashamed of or hide.”
He stares at you, eyes wavering on you as if he’s trying to decide whether he should trust your words or not. You see a glimpse of all the self-hatred and blame he’s put himself and his body for not keeping up with his peers, the pain of having to pave a path rockier than everyone else but having to hide it all because of the fear of judgement.
“You don’t get it,” he finally voices out, looking away from you “try living with these fucked up lungs and I’ll see if you can be proud.”
“I’m sorry,” you quickly nod, reaching to squeeze his arms “I’ll never know how you feel since I’ve never experienced it, but,” you gulp “I can reassure you, you never have to be ashamed of it with me.”
He brings his gaze back to you and look at you with something different this time. A look of amusement, tinted by something more … something you can’t put your finger on and the fast beating of your heart urges you to not pry further so you do what you can do best and mutter
“But you should be ashamed that you smoke though,” you say jokingly with a fake frown and his lips curl into a smile “I’ll always shame you for that one.”
“Whatever,” he laughs “I quitted for you anyways.”
For you? You furrow your eyebrows hearing his words and are about to question them when he cups your cheeks
“Look, I need to get this straight,” he says in a rushed tone “I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you,” he says in a firm tone “And I don’t want you to think like that about me.”
“F-Fine, I got you now,” you nod with an anxious smile, trying to reassure the guy “We’re cool!”
“Those girls,” he starts anxiously “The girls you said are surronding me, I don’t care about any of them.” He hesitates as if he’s chewing his next few words “If only you’d want-“
Your eyes widen at the expense of his words that you guess will follow, but you don’t get enough chance to hear them when the door opens with a loud thump and Taehyung enters the changing room, calling for you at the top of his lung
“SUGAR, YOUR TAE TAE IS HER-“he looks at the way Jungkook is standing again you and immediately yells “FUCK, YOU GUYS ARE-”
You reflexively push against Jungkook and quickly rush to your kit and grab the heavy box, trying to not make any contact with Tae as you mutter “I’ll let you guys change, see you later!”
You quickly push past the bewildered guy standing at the door, grateful that he doesn’t block your way on the way out as you rush away from the changing room to the field, trying to forget whatever happened in there …
#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x female reader#jungkook scenario#jungkook fic#bts jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts jungkook x reader#Jungkook bts#Jungkook smut#Fic#bts soccer au#jungkook soccer player#jungkook soccer au#offside
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Hiii can I have Willie/Alex with the au+trope+prompt game. Au: number 10 high school. Trope: number 9 strangers to lovers. And prompt: number 2
Can be found on AO3 here or read here under the cut <3 Thank you for the request!!
Alex had promised himself that this week would get better, had to get better. He really didn’t think it could get any worse. Until, of course, it had.
“Fuck!” He screamed into his open locker, thanking whatever God might be out there that it was after school and the hallways were abandoned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He felt a pang of anxiety in his chest, gripping tightly at his heart as he snatched his backpack out of his locker. “Fuck this shit!” He slammed the ugly beige metal, the lock shifting as the door slammed shut. “Fuck.” He kicked the locker, for good measure.
Taking a few deep breaths, he calmed himself down enough to pull his earbuds out of his pocket, quickly loading up a playlist from Spotify. Alex’s Calm Jams, he rolled his eyes as he plugged his earbuds into his phone and then into his ears. Reggie had made the playlist for him, he couldn’t remember how long ago, continuously adding to it with songs he thinks Alex would like, or just ones he’d think would distract him from having panic attacks without his friends around him.
He was able to zone in on the music, thankful that his friend had made this, it really did help. Not that he’d ever vocalize that, but they knew he appreciated them.
Alex, lost in his own full of drum beats and cymbal crashes, was too far gone to hear a warning shout just outside of his little bubble of calm as he exited the school building.
Another body slammed into his, causing him and the other person to crash to the ground in a pile of flailing limbs and discarded backpacks. Alex groaned in pain, pushing himself off the ground, wincing as he looked at his scraped hands. He was quick to pat himself down, finding the only injuries to be scrapes, no real damage done.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Alex turned, a fire lighting in his gut to face the person who’d barreled into him.
“Sorry, man, I tried to warn you, I swear.” Alex felt whatever fight was in him die out as the other person - the other hot boy - carded his fingers through his hair, pushing it behind him in one swift movement.
“Uh, yeah. Headphones.” Alex mumbled, gesturing loosely to the earbud wires that now rested around his shoulders.
“I see,” The boy nodded, his eyes crinkling slightly as he gave Alex a small smile. “Name’s Willie.”
“Alex.” His face flushed as he gave the other boy a nervous smile, entranced by the boy's sweet smile.
“You’re all good right? I pancaked you, pretty hard.” Willie let out a laugh, a twinkling noise that distracted Alex all over again.
“Uhh…” He noticed the skateboarder raise an eyebrow to him, laughter suddenly gone. “Yeah, yeah no. I’m fine.” He heard his voice pitch a few octaves through his nerves, wincing inwardly at himself.
“Well if you’re sure.” Willie smiled at him, quickly grabbing his backpack and his board. “What grade are you in? I’m sure if you were in my year, I’d remember a face as pretty as yours.”
Alex felt his face heat up, assorted sounds that certainly didn’t answer Willie’s question coming out of his mouth. Both of Willie’s eyebrows raised this time, opening his mouth once more before being cut off by two shouts, and two bodies slamming into either side of Alex.
“We’re juniors.” Reggie grinned sweetly to Willie. “What’s up, I’m Reggie.” He thrusted his hand out towards Willie, who shot a curious glance to Alex, but shook the offered hand nonetheless. “This is Luke.” Reggie motioned to the shaggy haired boy who was pressed into Alex’s other side, brown eyes squinting suspiciously at the skater.
“Nice to meet you, Reggie, Luke.” Willie laughed, shifting his skateboard under his arm.
“Don’t worry, we’re just Alex’s bandmates and best friends, we’re Sunset Curve, tell your friends.” Reggie shot Willie a wink and finger guns, causing Willie to let out a loud laugh.
“A band? That’s pretty cool, what instrument do you play, speedbump?” Willie’s gaze focused on Alex again, who was quick to clam up.
“He’s our drummer, wicked awesome skills, man. You should come watch us play sometime, we have a gig this weekend.” Luke, suspiciousness dropped, shot Alex a manic grin. “We’ll be playing that new cafe downtown, the one on the corner with the bright purple awning.”
“That’d be cool, I’ll see if I can make it, what night is it?” Willie grinned, eyes focused solely on Alex’s.
“Saturday night, we’re on at 6.” Alex managed to force out, his blush refusing to budge.
“Rad, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” The skateboarder swung his bag strap over his shoulder, dropping one end of his board to the ground. After Alex nodded to him, he shoved off. “By the way, kicking the lockers isn’t always the best idea!” Willie called behind him, before turning the corner and disappearing with a grin.
“Kicking lockers?” Reggie turned to him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity with a grin on his lips.
“I may have had an...aggressive freak out before almost having a panic attack.” Alex gave his friend an awkward smile, shifting between his feet.
“You can definitely tell us more about that later, for now, we totally need to get you lookin’ super hot for Saturday.” Luke laughed, taking off towards the front of the school building.
“You say that as if Alex isn’t already a total smokeshow.” Reggie rolled his eyes, sticking by Alex’s side as their brunette friend trailed ahead. The blonde shot him a look and the bassist was quick to throw his hands up. “What? I’m just being honest, we’re a band of hot lookin’ dudes, we gotta give ourselves some credit.”
“Okay.” Alex rolled his eyes, listening as his friends began to bicker, instead letting his mind drift to soft brown hair and dreamy brown eyes.
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