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everydayzeus · 2 months ago

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It's All Shit, Ted - Chapter 9 (Finale)

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Word Count: 2431

Jamie couldn’t break out of whatever was happening to him. Everything felt numb. His eyes were focused on the dashboard but he wasn’t seeing anything. Instead, he was deep in his mind, replaying every small moment from the past days, over and over. Analysing everything he could've done to anger Lasso, but he had been doing so well. He’d kept his mouth shut and removed himself from any interactions with the team. Moral had been at an all-time high since he’d stopped talking so why was Ted so determined to throw him out?

“Get out of your head Tartt.” Roy’s voice brought Jamie back into the present, the younger player looking over in surprise. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Lasso’s just being a prick. I’ll fix it”

“What?” He’ll fix it? Roy has no reason to do anything for the team, so what is he talking about?

“We’re here. Get out.” With that, Roy left the car, the door slamming behind him.

As he exited the jeep, Jamie looked up to see that Roy had not driven him home like he had been told to. He followed the older man up the front steps and stood waiting at a familiar front door, after only a moment it opened and they were greeted by the bright smile of Keeley Jones.

“Hiya Babes!” She ushered the two in, quickly pecking Roy on the cheek as he passed and doing the same to a flustered and confused Jamie. She grabbed him by his hand and moved towards the couch which was covered in various blankets and a few pillows that Jamie recognised from Keeley's bedroom. He let himself be sat in the middle of the sofa and wrapped tightly in a fluffy purple blanket, he levelled Keeley with a befuddled look but was ignored as she turned away and headed towards the kitchen.

Jamie took in his surroundings as he was left alone. There were various snacks on the table, along with a small stack of books that were clearly Roy’s, and the TV was paused on the opening sequence for an episode of Bake Off. He could hear Keeley and Roy’s hushed voices coming from the kitchen, obviously trying to not be overheard by the sad boy on the couch.

Just by looking at the atmosphere in the room, Jamie could tell this was the set-up for a cosy night in, where no one thought of work or stress, and one could simply turn their brain off and relax. And here Jamie was, smack dab in the middle of it, like a splotch of ink on a white rug, ruining something pure and pristine. His chest begins to tighten as he realizes what he’s done, how could he let this happen? He ruined their night, the two had made plans to relax together and here he was, sitting in the middle of their date with a stupid concussion and tear-filled eyes.

Emerging from the cocoon he was wrapped in, Jamie began wildly searching for his bag, he had seen Roy with it as they entered but hadn’t seen where it had ended up. As the voices in the other room shifted slightly, suggesting the two were finishing up with their quiet discussion on how to kick out the intruder in the living room, Jamie gave up on his search knowing there was nothing in his bag that couldn’t be replaced.

He snuck slowly towards the front door, but as he slipped in front of the kitchen door it was pushed open, slamming into him and causing him to fall to the floor. Roy stepped out of the kitchen, Keeley following quickly and dropping to the ground beside the boy.

“Oh Jamie, are you alright? Did you hit your head?” She began running her hands along his head, looking for any new bumps or bruises. “How many fingers am I holding up? Are you dizzy?” Keeley continued to fuss but Jamie could only focus on Roy, the man still observing his prone figure.

“You better have been eavesdropping at the door and not trying to leave.” Roy clearly knew Jamie better than he’d thought, the man catching on that Jamie had no intention of staying under their watchful eyes.

Normally Jamie would make up some excuse, make up a lie about looking for his bag or the bathroom but as he locked his eyes with Roy’s grumpy stare he couldn’t stop the anger that bubbled over the anxiety in his chest.

“I’m going home.”

“Like hell, you are” Roy steps forward to stand between Jamie and the front door.

“Jamie, babe, just come sit down and we can talk about this.” As usual, Keeley attempts to keep the peace between the boys.

“No. I don‘t need a fucking babysitter. I’m leaving.” Jamie jumps to his feet, gently brushing Keeley off “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid so you don’t have to worry bout whatever deal you have with Lasso.”

“What deal?” Keeley looks quickly between the two men.

“What are you talking about? There’s no deal.” Roy grunts, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Why the fuck else did you drag me here? You agree with Lasso to keep me benched don't you?” He accuses, his voice rising. “Just said all that shit to get me here and hold me hostage?”

“No, I don’t agree with Lasso, I told you both as much. But you can’t be trusted to actually rest so yeah, until you're cleared, you're staying here where we can keep an eye on you.” He steps towards Jamie, who steps away.

“Why do you fucking care? This hasn't got shit to do with you!” The panic is back, Jamie’s heart is beating too fast and hard, his breathing is stuttering and wheezing in his chest.

“Because despite how shitty you can be, for some unknown reason, it seems that I actually give a fuck about you.” Roy’s anger is settling as he watches Jamie grasp at his chest, the younger boy has begun to hyperventilate and his eyes are darting around the room looking for an escape.

“Okay, okay,” Keeley steps between the two and places a gentle hand on Jamie's shoulder. “Roy, go upstairs and calm down, you're no help if you get yourself riled up. Jamie, why don’t you and I sit down and just take some deep breaths.”

The boys, not dumb enough to challenge Keeley, follow her orders immediately. Roy heads up the stairs in silence as Jamie returns to his seat on the couch, Keeley beside him this time. She rewraps his cocoon quickly and wraps herself in her own pink blanket before curling up against his side. The two sit in silence as Jamie focuses on taking steady breaths, following Keeley's hand as she slowly strokes up and down his arm. A few tears drop down his face but are quickly swiped away by gentle, manicured hands as the two sit in silence, only broken by the occasional sniffle or stuttering breath.

“You want to talk about it?” Keeley breaks the silence once she feels Jamie settle.

“Not really.”

“Jamie.”

“I don’t get it! First, I try to prove myself, and push through the pain, just like he told me to, and what do I get? A damn lecture and a spot warming the bench. I get it, though. I’m a joke to them. The whole team- they can’t stand me. I can feel it, Keeley. Every time I walk into the locker room, I can see it in their eyes. It’s like I’m this ticking time bomb. They’re all just waiting for the moment I screw up again, so they can finally get rid of me for good. I’m not even one of them anymore. I’m not their friend, I’m not their teammate, I’m just some prick who just keeps fucking everything up for everyone.”

With that, Jamie bursts into a new round of tears, Keeley quickly sweeping him up into her arms.

“Oh Jamie, they've really done a number on you huh?” her soothing voice breaking through his sobs, he nods. “Well let's handle all that one at a time okay? First off what do you mean Ted told you to push through the pain? I thought he didn’t know you were hurt?”

“Everyone knew I was hurt, they watched me slam my head into someone else's. I just didn't let it affect my performance, Ted’s the one who said to keep doing what I was doing at practice after the match. Said ‘It’ll all work itself out.’”

“Stupid fucking American,” Roy announces his return. “Still doesn’t know how to talk to his players properly.”

“Roy.” Keeley warns sternly.

“Sorry, I just mean- I told him he needs to be more clear with the players, hopefully he’ll listen for once.” Roy moves as he speaks and joins them on the couch, sitting on Jamie’s other side, turned towards the younger. “He didn’t want you to play injured, he just wanted you to keep working on making amends with the team. Which, from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing a pretty good job at. I talked with Isaac and he told me about the Dubai Air protest, but he also said you’ve been skimping out of team activities.”

“I- I didn't want to make anyone upset. They don’t need me there bringing down the mood.”

“Honey, you wouldn't bring them down. They're your team and they're grown enough to let bygones be bygones and move on. You don’t need to punish yourself to make the people around you feel better.”

“If I can get over our shit and admit I may not totally, completely hate you, they can too.” Roy's words manage to pull a chuckle out of Jamie, a light smile gracing both of their faces. The three manage to settle into a comfortable silence, Keeley cosying back up to Jamie and Roy turning Bake Off back on before leaning back in his seat, his arm wrapping around Jamie and Keeley.

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It took Jamie a very long time to gather his confidence the next morning. He spent most of the night talking and mostly crying with Keeley and Roy on the couch. He was given insight into Roy and had gained a new level of respect for the man. When Keeley told him of her idea of Roy joining the coaching team at Richmond, Jamie couldn't help but bounce up and down in his seat at the idea. The two spent an hour going over all the pros for a grumbling and stoic Roy, who couldn’t manage to hide the smile on his lips at the two’s giddiness.

Jamie took one final look in the mirror, took in a deep breath and let it out as he headed out to meet Roy and Keeley in the jeep. He had finally gotten everything he’d been bottling up over the last few months off his chest and felt oddly at peace. Yes, there was still the lingering anxiety of facing the team, confronting Lasso once and for all, his newly set appointment with Dr.Fieldstone, and…

Will.

The sweet boy who quickly captured Jamie's heart. It only took a moment of Keeley pressing for him to confide in them about his feelings. He knows that now is not the time to dive head-first into a relationship, nor does Jamie think he could take the heartbreak of rejection, but just having the understanding of his own feelings towards the kitman made him feel lighter. He now has the freedom to properly begin wooing the lad like he undoubtedly deserves.

For the first time since his return, he doesn’t feel the crippling fear coursing through him as he walks through the halls of Nelson Road. Instead, he holds his head up as he enters the locker room. The team is fully present, the coaches undoubtedly in Ms Welton's office with Roy and Keeley discussing the former’s return to Richmond.

As the team slowly begin to notice his presence, they quickly grow silent, a few grabbing Isaac's attention, the captain quickly moving forward to the striker.

“Uh uh Bruv, no way am I letting you train anymore.” The captain's words send a brief jolt of fear through Jamie. Isaac meets Jamie where he stands and looks him up and down until his eyes meet the fading bruise on his forehead. “I’m sorry,” Isaac’s voice is lowered now, the words are clearly meant only for Jamie. “I’m your captain, I should've made you get checked out and not let this go on. That’s on me, but I won’t let you keep hurting yourself. No training until the medics clear ya.”

“Got it Cap, but don't worry I’m not here to train.” Jamie turns to address the room. “Um, actually if you guys got a moment I wanted to um, say something.” He falters and considers running straight out of the room and right back under the fluffy blankets on Keeley's couch, but as the lads look at him, not an ounce of anger or hate visible on their faces he pushes through.

“My last apology was a bit shit, I didn't really think on it and kinda just let the most generic shit spill out of my mouth and that wasn't right, you lot deserve a real apology for all the shit I pulled the last few years. I’ve done a lot of crappy things to you all, I was a prick and a bully and none of you deserved any of that. I know I’ve got a lot of work to do to earn my place as your teammate again and believe me I-” His monologue is cut off by Sam appearing next to him and placing his hand on his back.

“You don’t have to earn anything Jamie. You are our teammate, always.” Sam’s steady voice and kind words have a tear trickling down Jamie’s face. “All those things from before are in the past, it’s clear you’ve grown and changed for the better. I for one, am proud to call you my teammate.” A murmur of agreement flowed through the room and with a final smile Sam pulled Jamie into a tight hug, the rest of the team following until he was surrounded by love from his teammates.

It would be a while for Jamie to be fully comfortable at Richmond but this was the first step of many to getting his life back in order. Who knows where the rest of the season will lead him, but at least he has his friends beside him.

#ted lasso apple tv #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfic #angst fic #ao3 fanfic #everydayzeus #It's all shit ted #hurt/comfort #Nathan shelley bashing #james tartt sr #will kitman #Will Kitman/Jamie Tartt

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

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The Dateable's Making You Flustered

Request: Flustered scenarios with the dateables

A/N: Sorry for the bit of delay!! I really need to work faster with these (1k each)

Barbatos:

It’s been such a long time ever since the butler has felt some sort of attraction towards somebody. It surprises even himself and he’s able to see into the future. Yet, when he was given- or rather forced- into a day off, the first place where his mind had wandered had been to you. It was you that he thought of first. He didn’t have a clue on what he wanted to do, but when he was told that he had the day off- no exceptions- his mind had automatically gone to spending time with you. Barbatos wonders what changed that made you so important to him- he wonders when it happened, how it snuck past him and caught him by surprise.

He invited you on his day off, had sent you a quick message asking you’d like to accompany him around Devildom to pick up a few things for himself rather than the usual outing to the market. You had graciously agreed and now he stands beside you, his hand on a book and you peering to see what’s written on it.

“What’s the book about?” You ask, haven given up on trying to figure out what it was that had gotten his attention.

A few demons reach around and pull a book away from the shelf, talking excitedly to one another and he moves to stand closer to you. He smiles at you and holds the book close to him, already deciding to purchase it. “It’s an old tale from Devildom, similar to your Hansel and Gretal but this one is a bit more heavy.” You give out a hum, pleased at his answer and nod your head. “If you’d like, I could lend it to you once I’m done.”

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing at the same book and holding towards you. “I’ll just take one with me,” you offer and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t want to take his. “This way, we can read at the same time and then discuss. If it’s supposed to be similar to Hansel and Gretal, I’m sure that I’ll enjoy it. Plus-” you look up at him, your smile kittenish the book pulled to your chest- “it can be like our secret book club. I’ve been needing an excuse to go to the castle and visit, so this will be perfect,” you say excitedly, see-sawing between the tips of your shoes and back to your soles.

“You don’t need an excuse to visit the castle.” He hooks his arm with yours, slowly pushing you away from where a growing crowd of demons appear. “You know you’re always welcomed. The Young Lord would never dare to shut the door in your face.” He stops near the corner end of the store, his eyes attracted to a few trinkets where he reaches for.

The book is lowered and you shift your stare to where you both once stood. “And you?” His attention is grabbed immediately and he looks at you with a confused stare. You meet his eyes for a moment before you pull away. “Would you mind if I came over?” You clear your throat and look down, your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. “I wouldn’t want to…” you trail off, clearly unable to find the proper words. “I wouldn't want to distract you or make your work any more difficult than it already is.”

He can feel the back of his neck grow hot. He can’t be mistaken by what your words mean. You want to know what he thinks of you, if you’re welcomed in his eyes. His shoulders lower and he smiles at you, his hand reaching out to take your book from your hands. When you look up at him, he has his gaze kept on the title of the book, following the rise and fall of each letters.

“You’re always welcomed.” He takes in a small breath and fixes his gaze back to you. “You could never be a distraction for me. If you wish to have a secret book club with me, then I am more than honored to be your guest.” He clears his throat and looks away from you, his smile slowly growing but wavering as he lets out a shaky breath. “You make work easier. I enjoy my job, but I must say that when you’re around, the only thing I can think of is finishing in order to spend more time with you. Being around you is… nice.” He returns his stare back to you. “I’ve been around for a very long time, but when you’re around me, well, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so young. I’m not sure what it is about you-” he raises a hand and holds your cheek- “but I find myself happy whenever I’m with you. So please, never think that you are a bother towards me. You’re always free to visit- whether it be for our secret book club-” he returns the book to you, smiling when your fingertips brush against his- “or just because, I’ll always make time for you.”

It might be cruel of him, but he can’t help but smile and let out a quiet chuckle when you press your face against the book. “Barbatos,” you say in a hushed whisper. He only hums in response, glad that his words had such an effect on you. You look up at him with a faux pout and furrow of your brows while he stands there with a wide grin. Your eyes turn away from him and you finally let a smile appear. “Thanks for the reassurance,” you mutter.

“Of course. Nothing that I said was a lie, so it was quite easy to let the words out, you know,” he teases, grabbing the book from you before you have another chance to hide yourself. “Now, is there anything else you’d like to see in the store, or do you wish to go somewhere else?”

“I uh-” still flustered, you rub your cheek where his hand once was- “can we check out the manga section?”

He hooks his arm through yours, his body close enough to where he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume. “Lead the way,” he says, following your footsteps through the store. He isn’t sure when his feelings towards you had changed, he doesn’t even recall the giddiness of when it all started, but he doesn’t mind it. It’s a nice change of pace. You’re something unpredictable and reckless, and something soft and fragile, and he welcomes having you so close to him, to where he could lean over and press his lips against the crown of your head and keep you protected under his touch. Barbatos welcomes the change that you brought and while the change wasn’t originally for him, he enjoys that it is for him now, that you’re the one that gets to be close to him and that gets to have the pleasure of having you wanting to visit him.

Simeon:

Who could have ever thought that he, an angel, would fall in love with a human? The very thing that an angel had created a war for, the very thing that caused him to lose those close to him, and the very thing that had shown just how different he was from someone he had considered a brother, he now commits the same unholy act. He must be a hypocrite. He is a hypocrite. The very thing he turned a blind eye to and here he is, so undoubtedly in love with a human that he fears his wings will be ripped from him, his blood staining his clothes and his halo broken beyond repair. Terror makes his blood run cold and yet, he cannot look away from you. Simeon keeps his gaze upon you with a mixture of hesitation and melancholy and you just smile back at him, the phone in your hand shared between the two of you as you watch a parody of a teen romance on an application.

“It’s amazing how much people have grown to like this er, show?” He asks, still unsure of what to call it. “It’s considered a show, right?”

Your shoulders raise in a shrug and you give him a small, tight lipped smile. “I guess. I think most people refer to it as a series.” The phone is lowered and it returns to your lap. “It isn’t wrong to call it a show, but since they’re short little bursts of episodes, I think people find it easier to call it a series, but it can go any way.” You move away from him, scooting until your thigh is at an angle and your knee is pushed against his. “Anyways, to answer your question, yes people do like it. I think since it’s like a parody but also suspenseful with the cliffhangers, it keeps people entertained.” He nods his head slowly, and he tries to ignore the rush of cold that is now at his empty side. “Did you like it?”

His eyes slightly widen, and his lips pull into a thin smile. “I- Well, considering the fact that it’s written and done by one person- I- It certainly is different than the things I usually consume, but-” He struggles to find a way to finish his thought without offending you in any sort of way and ends with a stiff nod of his head.

It’s a tense moment that doesn’t last long enough to linger on when you suddenly laugh. Your laugh is loud as it effectively gets him to snap his mouth shut. Your hands are waved in front of you and your knee leaves his as you curl onto the couch. “You don’t have to force yourself to like it, Simeon, I only wanted to show it to you, because you asked what I was watching.”

He appreciates you giving him an easy out, and he releases a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. It’s a slow release and suddenly he can breathe again. “Well thank you for sharing it with me. I appreciate that from you.” Silence lingers and it isn’t like before where it’s tense, it’s lighter now, but it still feeds him an odd sense of air where he’s stuck between a breath, his eyes stuck on you.

Once more, your laughter fills the room and it’s short and sweet, a gift given to him for just the moment. “Of course, Simeon. I like spending time with you, and I especially like sharing my interests so I guess, thank you for allowing me to do that.” Your hand reaches towards his and he sees the slightest pause from you, the way your fingers twitch until you allow yourself to hold his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

Warmth returns to him, something akin to a summer’s day in the Celestial Realm, and even though all air has left him once again, he is breathless in a way that matters, weightless and joy illuminating him. When he meets your eyes, he cannot look away and he cannot help but return your smile. The clock ticks onwards and he’s left with a heavy heart. He’s read about the perfect moment, thought about writing something so trivial and false, and yet, the perfect moment sits before him with their hand in his.

“I have to be honest with you,” he murmurs and his eyes feel hot, a lump forms in his throat that makes his words sound tighter. “I- I don’t-” How could he ever phrase what he wants to tell you? How could he drop that sort of confession on you? You know the story, would you ever want him to actually confess to you, to repeat the past mistakes and know the horrid outcome? He frowns. His eyes are stuck on the floor, running along the edge of the carpet and he can feel your gaze on him, your eyes that are heavy with concern and ever the angel, Simeon spares you and gives you the easier answer. “I’m thankful to have met you,” your name is a sweet whisper on his lips, a taste of sweet peach that makes his heart full and heavy. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as wonderful as you. I see you and I think that I’ve found something even more pure than an angel.” With every word, his hand turns to slip into yours, his gloves thin enough to feel the small crevices and calluses on your hand. “Even if you are human and you’ve committed sin, I still think that you are the most pure of them all with your kindness and generosity.”

He isn’t sure what he had expected, but he hadn’t expected to have you plant your face against the soft back cushion of the couch, your face held there for moments. Your hand slips away from his and he’s left holding empty air. His hands fret over your body and when you pull away, your face is flushed, your hands covering the lower part of your face as you look at anywhere but him.

“Simeon,” you whine, closing your eyes tightly. “That’s really sweet.” Your voice is high-pitched and your eyes open once more, as your hands finally lower. “I think I might actually die, that was really nice and something that I don’t hear often.” You finally look at him and your smile is ever growing. “Especially from an angel,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle.

His smile is soft and to him, it dulls compared to your brilliance. As if you were a puzzle, he fits into your hand with ease and grace. “Well if you were to die, I would return you in any way that I could.

Solomon:

He’s human, ageless and immortal, but human. He’s lived and loved, lost and grieved, and he’s gone numb and distant to emotions. He didn’t mind it, he welcomed it. He hated losing and hated the people that he lost and the empty space that they left. He promised that he wouldn’t ever want to feel that sense of sadness ever again. Then you came into the picture. He’s been called shady and worse words than that, but you don’t call him that. You hold his hand and you welcome him into your arms. You go on and on about the human in him and how you love that he’s there with you. Solomon isn’t sure when it was that he broke his own promise, but when he looks at you, he’s willing to love again and again.

The kitchen is a mess and powder covers the counters. His hands knead the dough and the smell of garlic and onion sizzled with oil is heaven in the air. You measure the ingredients and whisk at the eggs. It’s domestic and it’s something that leaves a storm of butterflies in his stomach. He could watch you forever, in the kitchen, with an apron tied around your waist, flour in your hands and the tip of your tongue peaking past your lips as you concentrate on rereading the cookbook. It’s domestic and it’s something he had long forgotten that he wanted.

“I have the ingredients memorized, I could simply tell you what to add,” he muses, returning to forming the bread into its shape.

“Knowing you, you’ll add something in there,” you quip, your smile now directed at him, with your tongue still pinched out. “Plus, it’s just reading. I can read,” you say with a defensive tone. “Just start dressing the bread with garlic and then we can get on with breading the chicken.” You jerk your head to where the chicken rests on the cutting board, the flour beside it.

“Okay,” he sings under his breath, returning his attention to the dough before him. The room is filled with a song from the Human Realm, a classic that has him feeling warmth in a kitchen that is not his, but with a person that is. It makes him long for another time, but when he catches you in the corner of his eye, he’s glad where he is. “I like your song choice,” he says, instantly biting the inside of his cheek once the words had left his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s ever tried to have an actual connection with someone, and he’s sure he wasn’t ever this awful at it.

“Yeah?” You step close to him, holding your hand out. “Care for a dance then?” Your smile is crooked and eyes gleaming with excitement as the song is replayed with a touch of your hand.

He’s frozen for a second, stuck in time, and rooted into place, his hand moving through thick amber as he lets his hand rest in your palm. The room is spun, colors mixing with each other and slowly blurring until he stands still, pushing you away and pulling you close, laughing and letting his hand rest against your side, his hand feeling the soft curve against your ribs. Your hands are powdered and his smell like bread, and your laugh is young and youthful. He can’t help but follow, letting his smile break out and hand slipping out of yours, to encase you in a hug where he traps you into a swaying motion.

The song fades and he’s forced to pull away, to step away from you and there’s hesitation is his steps and movements. His hands linger for a second too long, his eyes still stuck on you and his smile much softer than it was before. It’s a few seconds of silence where you take in deep, heavy breaths, and sway lightly to the song that approaches.

Your name is said and it’s sweet like honeysuckle and addicting like a drug. It’s a night where he invited you over, and now you two are busy making dinner in the kitchen and you’ve given him instructions and kept a close eye on what he does. Your perk your head and nod, allowing for him to continue. “Thank you for coming over,” he says with a tight smile on his lips.

“Anytime, Sol,” you respond, coming beside him once more. You bump your arm into his, leaning to look at the garlic mixture in a bowl. “You know I like spending time with you, so anytime you need a cooking partner, you can always call.”

He doesn’t say anything, only nodding and trying to keep the butterflies in his stomach at bay while his heart beats frantically against his chest. You move away from him, returning to where the powder rests in a bowl and he’s left without, and while the distance is short, it’s something that is unwelcomed. He’s left with dough in his hands and you’re away from him, and loneliness settles.

“Can I call you whenever?” He asks, an easy smile on his lips, but there’s a plea in his words. He’s never been the needy type, but he needs you.

“Of course, you can,” you respond and you’re as kind as ever. You turn away and close the bag of flour, pushing it aside to clear the space at the table.

Like a drug that leaves his mouth dry and heart racing, feeling as if he’s about to die, he calls your name. You’re so close to him and yet, you aren’t close enough. He needs you. He needs you beside him. And he takes the first step, standing in front of you with a red kissed face as stares at the cabinets against the wall. You call his name and your hand is tender against his neck, leaving a white stain that snows onto his shirt.

“I just wanted to thank you. I know how busy you can get and I just-” he can feel the telltale sign of tears and he wonders when he’s gotten so emotional- “I like spending time with you. I like your music choices and I like it when you cook with me- even if it’s just you giving me instructions- but I like it.” His tongue touches against his lips and he looks at you, fiddling with the end of his shirt. “I think you’re great and I just need you to know that if you ever need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help. I would do whatever it would take to make you happy because you have a really nice smile and I don’t think you should lose that.” His heart echoes and his smile is gentle and nervous. “Thank you for being with me.”

You stare at him and he wonders if he had overstepped only to gasp when you bury yourself against his chest, patting at his shoulder and pulling away with a hand covering the lower half of your face. “Solomon,” his name leaving your lips sends a jolt of electricity through him, “I’m glad. Thank you,” you whisper. Your hand reaches to pull his away from his shirt and you hold it in yours. “I like being with you too. Us humans have to stick together, right?” You say softly, letting your fingers run over his scarred knuckles.

He nods silently and leans over, his lips pressed against your forehead. “Yeah, us humans have to stick together,” he whispers against you, smiling when he feels your own lips against his knuckles. He’s with you, at this very moment, he stands in a kitchen with music playing, holding you close to him, and for a moment, he can pretend that this won’t ever end, that he won’t ever have to move away from you and risk losing you.

#obey me #obey me swd #om swd #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #i hope you like it!#and that it was in charcater #i feel like i always sturggle for barbs

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enhypia · 3 years ago

Text

JS ; exes

exes answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: angst, mild fluff

words: roughly 1.7k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jay speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jay speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing, neglect, breaking up

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello, i'm (y/n)

and i'm jay

we're (awkward eye contact)

uhh we're exes

[you guys were invited here today as exes for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]

yes

yup

*interviewer shuffles awkwardly

sorry it's just, our friends were the ones who signed up for us

yeah, we just found out about it three days ago

[but are you guys still okay with doing this?]

we're okay

just give us a few minutes to get used to environment

*(y/n) chuckles

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. are you guys ready? should we start?]

*jay nods

ready as i'll ever be

[how long were you guys together?]

we were together for almost 3 years

[how long have you guys been broken up?]

about a year and a half now

[who broke up with who?]

i did they did

[why did you break up with him?]

so this was all a year and a half ago okay? no coming for jay, he's grown, we've grown

thanks?

you're welcome

*jay laughs

uhh.. it just really reached a point where i felt neglected in a way? and it was just tiring? i kept thinking 'do i deserve this treatment?' and i hated that i was doubting everything, including his feelings. so i just said let's talk about it and then yeah we split up

*jay drinks and (y/n) laughs

sorry sorry

nah i just needed that

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a portion between the of you now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jay wins

*he picks up a card and facepalms after seeing the question

goddamn

should i be scared?

not sure, but you might opt to drink though

[do you blame me for what happened to us?]

oh my god *(y/n) laughs

i know right

so we're unpacking emotions today? okay noted

you can just drink if you're not comfortable with it

i'll drink but i'll still answer, might ease your mind no?

*jay couldn't stop his head from nodding

*(y/n) drinks

i admit that i blamed you at first, but then i got to thinking that it wasn't just you, i was also at fault too since i never really vocalized what i felt? i just let it build up until it reached the point where you couldn't do anything about it anymore, and i couldn't too.

yeah but it's more of my fault since i felt something was wrong but i just brushed it off, i brushed you off.

....

shot?

*jay smiles slightly and both raised their glasses to cheers before drinking

we were both at fault and i don't blame you, jay. i hope you stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) smiles softly then picks up a card to stop any reply they might get from jay

god why are these questions so heavy? it wasn't like this from other episodes

*jay and crew laugh

okay, hit me

[what's your biggest regret about our relationship?]

what the fuck

SEE ?!

*both laugh and jay drinks

okay, next question

no, i'm answering

[we won't stop you but just reminding you both that it's okay not to answer if you drink]

the alcohol releases the unhinged-ness

in other words, this is really just us using the alcohol to actually say what we feel

i think you already the answer, and it's that i didn't do anything about us even if i felt something was wrong. i just kept on focusing on my career that i reached a point where i brushed everything off as nothing. and in the end, while i got the success i wanted, somehow i also feel like i'm on the losing end really.

*(y/n) drinks making jay laugh

what? it's my first time hearing all this !

it was a rough break so

omg is this our closure ???

*jay's eyes widened

and it's filmed ?!?!

*everyone laughs

couple goals *(y/n) does a hashtag

oh wait *(y/n) looks at jay

exes goals *both do a hashtag pose

*they laugh, ignoring the sting in their hearts

okay, okay moving on

*jay laughs again

is it a heavy one again?

nope

[do your friends hate me?]

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

please 😭

we have the same friends

we share a lot of mutual friends

that's why there was like tension for a month in the friend group because no one knew what to do

i'm sorry you had to endure all that friends

remember when they literally made an organized schedule to hang out where we wouldn't see each since the break up was still fresh?

yeah like i got heeseung on tuesdays

and i got him on thursdays

😭😭😭

we love them though, they did their best to console us both

thanks guys <33

*(y/n) picks up a card

goddammit

[do you think we could've actually worked out our problems?]

i think it's unfair that i get a lot of heavy questions

i have the power of god and anime on my side today

i think we could've, if i just had taken the actual time to reflect and sit down and talk, we could've worked it out.

*(y/n) slaps jay's arm

i told you, stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

*jay picks up a card and

what?

*he is stuttering guys, he is fidgeting

[do you wish we were still together?]

yeah

.....

*both drink

i mean-

*jay has been paralyzed, he did not expect (y/n) to answer

i'm happy where i am right now, maybe there are moments of weakness that the thought crosses my mind but i don't dwell on it too much. i think we're both still learning and growing.

*jay doesn't want to think about the fact that (y/n) never said a clear yes or no

*(y/n) picks up a card and groans

please just drink to this

why?

[what do you think of me now?]

....

drink.

no?

why?

because-

why?

i'm answering

why?

i want to?

no.

right now i'm just really proud of you.

*WORLD PAUSE, (y/n) is malfunctioning

it's a little sad that i didn't get to witness a lot of it but i promise i watched from afar and i'm so proud of you. like it makes me feel lighter in a way? knowing that you're still going and pursuing your dreams. it just made me at ease that -

*(y/n) drinks, looking very much like snow white's apples

are you blushing?

jay i will kick you

*he laughs and pinches (y/n) cheeks making them redder, (y/n) slaps his hands away

i won't hesitate bitch

how about you huh?

[what do you think of me now?]

*jay you should know not to tease too much or else it'll bite you back

i think you're absolutely amazing.

*jay could only blame himself

i am in constant awe and there's this pride that i have in me whenever i see you thriving. it's weird because i thought i'd be bitter about it, but since i knew of your goals and how passionate you were, all i felt was pride. it did hurt a little that i couldn't go "that's my baby!" anymore.

*alert! jay's ears are red and it's spreading to his cheeks and neck

okay next question!

*he quickly picks up a card making (y/n) burst out laughing

everything i said was true though.

hajima. stop. pause. i'm not listening

*(y/n) laughs at flustered jay

this is the last one.

[question for both: if you could tell me anything, what would you say?]

sheesh

same

rock paper scissors? loser goes first

*jay wins

*(y/n) drinks

can you turn around for this one, like don't look at me.

*jay followed

i want to say that,,,, that it's not your fault for putting your future first. it kind of stung since you made me feel like i wasn't a part of it but i know that wasn't your intention. i understand your actions and i don't blame you. if i was in your position i probably would've been the same. i'm sorry that i didn't try harder, like you said we could've made it work but i just got so tired, i hope you can forgive me for that as well.

okay i'm turning around as well, your turn

*(y/n)'s eyes are glassy, but jay doesn't need to see that

i want to say that i'm sorry for neglecting you. i feel like you're tired of me saying sorry but that's really all i could do. i forgive you by the way even if i don't get why you're apologizing to me. i also want to say that, it wasn't you. it sounds cliche but you weren't the reason i became like that, it was me. it was never you. so please don't blame yourself for anything. please don't question your worth because you were more than enough.

yah i didn't want to unpack that

well i still know you and i was given the chance to say it now so

*(y/n) turns around wiping tears, jay is sniffling

i need a drink damn

*(y/n) pours a shot and jay as well, both drink after clinking their glasses

[you guys good?]

*both looks at each other and chuckles

we're good

i can't believe we have to thank our friends for setting this up

*jay groans

[care to answer one last question that is in everyone's minds' right now?]

oh god

is it what i think it is

[will we see you guys be featured again? maybe exes to couples again?]

let's drink!

*both take one last shot and waves to the camera

*(y/n) shrugs and jay winks

bye~

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments (peep last one)

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: i was planning to post this sooner but my pharma prof suddenly dropped a 6-page activity lmao rip, im scheduling the timestamps i forgot to post last update sorry sorry. my angst skills are subpar forgive me but i tried my best. i hope you like this one too !! jake's will be uploaded next ! please look forward to it <33

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 5 years ago

Text

Ateez: Their Little Sister Is A Popular Idol

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong and you debuted roughly around the same time, and fans lived for your sibling interactions because they were just outright hilarious. You would always end up yelling at each other or having cute little banters.

One day, you were both invited on a special sibling episode of Weekly Idol with other idols, such as Jessica and Krystal, Izone's Chaeyeon and Itzy's Chaeryeong, Oneus' Xion and Onewe's Dongmyeong and Ex Boyfriend's Youngmin and Kwangmin. It was filled with competitions and Hongjoong and you just seemed to struggle to work together. It was especially hilarious when you two played the 'Shout In Silence' game.

"Knock Out!!" You shouted once you saw the word, which was coincidentally your debut song.

"Huh?!" Hongjoong couldn't really understood what your lips formed.

"Knock Out!" You repeated, louder this time.

"Blocked cow?!" He asked, unsure of his answer.

"Stop messing around Kim Hongjoong! Think! My debut song! Knock Out!" You were getting desperate.

"Wait what!" Hongjoong asked.

"My debut song!!!"

But Hongjoong stayed silent, his brain trying to think.

"Didn't you watch it?! Knock Out!!!" You hollered even louder.

"Jumped Out?!" He tried answering.

"Kim Hongjoong I will knock you out if you don't get it!!! Knock Out! Knock Out! Ugh! Stupid!" Your voice was hurting at this point.

"Hey!!! I understood 'stupid'!!! I'm older than you!" He warned you.

Yeah, you had the entire set laughing.

Park Seonghwa:

As your older brother, Seonghwa was extremely protective of you growing up and that didn't change even after you debuted. In fact, his desire to protect you intensified. You often complained about it, hating how he was always fussing over you, reminding you to eat healthy and annoying you at times.

Seonghwa lived for it though. His members were even surprised by how soft he turned for you only. And of course fans thought you two were so adorable. Atinys often liked to tease him about it, often asking him about what he'd do when you started dating. That always seemed to annoy him.

"She's not allowed to date until I'm dead." Was his response every time.

Being Seonghwa's sister, of course you were beautiful, and a lot of idols had their eyes set on dating you. But of course, Seonghwa was always there to cockblock them. Even on tv, he had no chill when telling them to back off.

"Seonghwa have you heard the news?" The tv host asked.

"What news?" He asked.

"Well, with your sister acting in the new web drama, there's rumors going around that she's dating her co-star."

Seonghwa's eye twitched at that, and the other members started laughing.

"I don't think he likes that idea." Yunho chuckled.

"Any words about the situation or to her co-star?" The host asked.

Seonghwa looked to the camera for a few seconds before holding his microphone up.

"Over my dead body." He responded causing the members to go into chaotic mode over his response.

Jeong Yunho:

Yunho was the most supportive brother and he often said he was your biggest fan. Any chance he got, he'd promote you and your group, and was always dancing around to your songs. He'd even post dance covers of them, just to show his support. Every interaction you had, whether at music shows, ISAC or variety shows, he was your personal cheerleader.

He was also extremely clingy towards you, often hugging you, tangling his long limbs over your tiny body.

"Let go Yunho! You're squishing me!" You often told him.

"No! Let me love you!" Your protests would only encourage him to squish you even tighter.

Of course, the dancing genes ran strong in your family. Fans often praised your dancing abilities and were often wondering if you two would ever collaborate together to come up with a choreography. That's exactly what they asked Yunho one day when he was reacting to your comeback music video.

"Wow! As usual, Y/N slays the dance. She's getting better than she already was."

He looked at his phone, reading the fan's comments and landed on a particular question everyone was wondering.

"Would we ever create a dance together? Hmmm."

He thought about it for a moment.

"Honestly, I'd love to do it. What do you say baby sis? Wanna help your Oppa create a choreography? Just us two?"

He snickered when he thought about what you'd say when you saw his VLive.

"She's probably going to say no, tell me I'm annoying and to get lost. She has such a temper........"

He paused before smirking.

"You know what they say. Tiny creatures are more feisty cause their tiny bodies can't hold a lot of rage."

"She's going to kill you when she finds out you said that." Yeosang said from behind the camera.

"Probably. She hates being called tiny." Yunho agreed.

Kang Yeosang:

Although Yeosang was super proud of you for debuting, he kept the fact you two were siblings a secret for a long time and honestly you liked it that way too. You were both introverts and preferred to lay low.

Fans of your groups often compared you two, saying how similar you looked, how you were both the savage ones of your groups, even your little habits and love for chicken was extremely similar. Of course, both of you saw their posts and videos comparing you two, and you both cringed when some thought you'd be cute together. That's when you two stepped in and clarified you were siblings. Now it was fan's turn to be shook at the revelation.

And that became the topic when your groups were invited on a variety show. At one point, Ateez was complaining how Yeosang roasts them so much that they're scared of him and can't ever say anything back. You burst out laughing at that.

"He may be my older brother, but I'm not scared of his sharp tongue." You bravely admitted.

That's when the hosts suggested you expose something about your brother, like he did to his members on Weekly Idol. All of Ateez were super excited about the suggestion.

"Try your best. I'm not scared." Yeosang said confidently, but you knew deep down he was nervous about what you would say.

You couldn't help the smirk on your face as you thought about how to embarrass him.

"So my Oppa here, in front of cameras and with his members, likes to be cold and aloof, hating aegyo and skinship......not wanting Seonghwa or Wooyoung to baby him.......but it's a lie."

Everyone gasped at that.

"Cause at home, our parents are always babying him and he basks in their affection. He's always doing aegyo for them too. Atinys don't be fooled. Kang Yeosang is a literal baby."

Everyone started laughing at that, San and Wooyoung standing up and exclaiming that he was such liar and fake.

For once, Yeosang was so flustered at getting exposed, by none other than his little sister. He was speechless.

"Finally! The great Kang Yeosang had a taste of his own medicine!" Mingi exclaimed, having been Yeosang's constant victim.

No one had the power to make Yeosang scared like you did.

Choi San:

Your number 1 hype man, your caring brother, your part time manager, your personal photographer, and your cuddle bug, there's nothing Choi San wouldn't turn himself into for you. Would legit run a fan blog dedicated to you if he could. Is always praising you and saying the sweetest things about you.

Tries to get you to show off more of your skills and talents. You're shy and somewhat quiet, so people tend to look more at the other members, that's why San is always promoting you and encouraging you to not be afraid to show your true colors.

If you two are in public together, he's always holding your hand or holding you close. Yeah, definitely wants pics of you two to circulate the internet. Spoils you to no end. And he enjoys having you spend time with the other members. They adore you as well.

"Isn't she the cutest? The most adorable thing you've ever seen?" He gives you endless aegyo constantly.

"Did you just call me a thing?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

But you can't stay mad at him, not with that sad pout.

That being said, sometimes you do feel embarrassing by him. You're more reserved and somewhat conservative and so used to seeing cute San, that whenever he turns into demon San you're covering your face or screaming loudly.

"Aaahhh! What the heck San!!! What was that? Oh my god!" You screeched one day when you were reacting to one of his fancams.

"What happened to my older brother?! The one that carries Shiber around everywhere?! What have you done to him?!"

You grabbed your bottle of water dramatically and pretended to throw some at the screen.

"Be gone unclean spirit! Off with you!"

That's the one thing you two have in common: you're both super dramatic and so extra over the smallest of things.

Song Mingi:

He's the older one? Really? That's what everyone was thinking when you confirmed you were siblings. It's not that you looked older or him younger, no. It was your personality. You were extremely mature for your age and were often captured taking care of Mingi or scolding him. Naturally, people thought you were the older one.

Mingi honestly didn't mind. He often joked that he was indeed the baby and you were the older one. Every time you got asked why you babied him, it was the same thing.

"Have you seen him? He'd be dead if it wasn't for me. I'm the reason he's alive."

Mingi actually didn't mind you saying those things.

"That's how she shows her love. She knows she enjoys my company."

It was extremely hilarious for fans to see you guys spend time together. You two once did a VLive collaboration and it became a trending topic for days because it was extremely chaotic and funny.

"Mingi! I told you to flip the eggs!" You shouted at him.

"I tried! But it was stuck!" He tried to excuse himself.

"You're just a scaredy cat! Afraid of getting burnt!" You told him as you turned off the stove.

You immediately grabbed a kitchen towel and started fanning it over the smoke that accumulated in the kitchen.

"God! Mingi I know for a fact you have brain cells.....so fucking use them!"

Mingi gasped at your words.

"Y/N! There's a camera!" He reminded you.

You went wide eyed and panicked. Mingi began laughing at your reaction.

"Oh my god! You cussed live in front of fans!"

Mingi was cracking up so hard at what happened. You were so embarrassed by your mistake. You banged your head on the counter.

"Kill me now." You groaned.

Mingi came up behind you and hugged you.

"Hey don't worry little sis. At least now they know not to mess with you."

Finally, Mingi showed that he was indeed your older brother who was always there to comfort you when you needed it.

Jung Wooyoung:

"You're Ateez' Wooyoung's younger sibling right? What's he like as your brother?"

You often got asked that question and it was always accompanied by you sighing.

"Honestly.....he's a pain. I love him, but he's too much."

Yes Wooyoung loved you as well, but he was super annoying and his past time was teasing you to no end. Even if you threatened to smack him, which you did, or threatened to tell your parents, he'd still keep going.

"And here we see our tiny main vocalist getting ready, and like most females, she's going to take an hour on just her hair then spend 45 minutes on foundation, then-"

"Moooom! Wooyoung is narrating my life again!" You interrupted his narration.

"Snitch! Don't you know that snitches get stitches?" Wooyoung exclaimed, pushing the camera he was holding closer to your face.

"Bitches get stitches too.....Bitch!" You glared at him.

"Oooh! You! I should upload this to the internet and let all your fans know their sweet honey vocalist cusses like a sailor." Wooyoung threatened you.

"Do it no balls! Just remember who taught me those words in the first place." You smirked at him.

"......Shit! Why'd you have to inherit my blackmail skills?" Wooyoung said as he finally stopped recording.

Wooyoung was always reacting to your content though, often making fun of you, but he wasn't mean all the time. He often complimented you on your singing abilities. He was always saying you had the voice of an angel. And if there was something he was extremely vocal about was about any hate comments you got. He was quick and eager to call haters out.

"Dying dolphin? Who you calling dying dolphin? Have you even heard a dolphin dying? This is what it sounds like."

Suddenly Wooyoung began screeching at the top of his lungs, startling the member in the next room.

"What the hell are you doing on your VLive Jung Wooyoung?!" Seonghwa called out.

"I'm showing some bastards the difference between a dying dolphin and an angel singing so they can stop saying bullshit!"

Choi Jongho:

Jongho hates people acting cute, doesn't react to his Hyungs doing aegyo, and is never soft with anyone.....except you, his little sister. It was extremely surprising, even for the members of Ateez. You were the complete opposite of Jongho: you were tiny, cute, adorable, full of aegyo and were not afraid to show it off any chance you got. Loona's Chuu and Lovelyz' Kei had nothing on you in cuteness.

It never failed to amaze people how he smiled that bright gummy smile he had every time you did aegyo for him. The first time you did it was during an episode of Idol Room. It was a game of trying to get Jongho to smile, laugh, react to anything and all of the Ateez members failed. Then you came up with your pigtails and bright smile.

"Oppa! Why so angry? Can't you smile for me?"

The whole room burst into screaming and groaning when Jongho immediately smiled for you and patted your head.

"What the heck!" "That's impossible! He hates aegyo!" "This is rigged! That's sibling privilege!" "What the hell did I embarrass myself for?!"

Anytime anyone mentioned you, he'd immediately light up. He was so soft for you.

"Isn't my sister the cutest?"

Don't push him though. He's also very overprotective of you. Anytime he sees an idol staring at you too much, he flexes his muscles. Anytime the members said you looked cute or pretty, he'd warn them he'd split them like apples if they got too close.

Jongho nearly had a heart attack when he was watching your group's comeback with the other members. And it was because your group suddenly changed your cute concept for a more mature and sexy concept. He was flipping tables, literally.

"What did they do to my little sister?! What happened to her space buns and oversized sweaters?! Why is she wearing that short skirt?! Why are you guys staring?! Stop looking at the screen!!"

The others were cracking up at him as he tried to cover the screen with his body.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Cosmonauts

Summary: You always call Tim space related nicknames. No one knows why.

A/n: This is technically a follow up to Art Gallery Smile but it can be read on its own. This was posted on mobile so Idk how bad it got formatted. Will edit when I get to my laptop.

Warnings: mentions of panic attack and anxiety. No graphic detail but just in case. (Yes, I gave Tim anxiety. Fight me.)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“IT WAS ZOMBIE ADJACENT,” Roz protests, shoving another one of Tim’s fries into her gaping maw in a vain attempt to stop the petulant pout retching its way to her lips. You roll your eyes hard enough that your entire head follows along with their movement, taking a nibble of your own fries. Roz scowls, mouth twitching the way yours does (4 times to the left and 4 and a half times to the right) it was honestly the only way to tell that you two were related in any shape or form.

“It wasn’t even close, you deep-fried stick of margarine,”

“It shambled, didn’t it?”

“So does Space Case over here when you don’t funnel enough caffeine into his system, what’s your point?” You bite out leaning back, slinging your arm over the back of the bench and over Tim’s shoulder making his breath hitch. Tim can feel his skin heat up. For once, he’s thankful for just how much Roz hordes your attention. He’s starting to run out of excuses for the color of his cheeks. Not that you ever fell for any of it from the way you hummed every time he stammered out his excuse.

Based on the way your hand flexes and not so subtly moves away, you noticed his flush but made no comment. Instead, you grin- all sharp teeth and cocksure and smug bastard- leveling your older cousin a look which roughly translated to ‘Checkmate, motherfucker’. Despite his apprehension, Tim can’t help the smile that twitched on to his lips. Your eyes flickered to him. It might just be his imagination but Tim was pretty sure he saw fondness chip away at your smug grin. Tim kind of wants to lean into your arm but instead, he leans forward pretending to pay attention hiding his smile in his hands. His face is gonna get tired from smiling too much around you.

"It wasn't even close,"

"It was freaky looking,"

"Damn woman, you're being real judgy there,"

“Back me up here Duckie!” Roz screeches, shoulders hiking up making her look like a frazzled cat about to hiss pulling Tim away from his reverie. You roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head while Steph just snorts. Tim sighs. None of you have stopped calling him ‘Duckie’ or ‘Ducktective’ after that stint of being ‘Drake’. Admittedly, it wasn’t his best idea but you didn’t have to laugh that hard and slap your knee. When you were done laughing, you vehemently protested the name change by wearing your precious, well-kept, one of a kind Red Robin hoodie for the duration of the ‘Drake’ thing. You had said it was to bring him back to his senses (sense of fashion). Maybe you just wanted to fluster him. He certainly couldn’t put it past you. It worked. Oh, it definitely worked. Now, all he could think about was how nice you looked in his colors which inevitably lead him to think about how nice you would look in his shirts, in his clothes- Damn it. He’s doing it again.

Roz clears her throat. It is loud and rough and it makes all of you wince despite the already loud atmosphere of the cafeteria. Really what does Roz expect him to say? One, Tim wasn’t fully paying attention. How could he when you two are smooshed together on a cramped cafeteria bench with you still wearing your Red Robin hoodie? Tim’s surprised he isn’t keeling over. Two-

“See! Even our darling-” Tim’s brain short circuits. “Space Cadet can’t even defend your bullshit,” you laugh reaching over to Roz’s drink leaning a little too close to Tim’s face. He can almost feel the heat radiating off your skin.

If I lean in just a little more, I could probably…

“It isn’t bullshit!”

“You’re right! Bullshit has more substance-”

“Sooooo, what’s with all the space nicknames for Tim? When do I get one?” Steph asks casually, popping another of Tim’s fries into her mouth.

Has he even eaten any of his fries? It’s almost gone and he’s eaten at most one.

You choke making a pained noise, likely due to said carbonated drink going into your nostrils (and possibly your lungs), as you turn away. Your neck visibly red from where Tim is sitting. Based on the sparkle in Steph’s eyes, she can see it too. A manic grin spreads on Roz’s face wide enough that Tim legitimately worries that it’ll split her face wide open. A shrill sort of giggle escapes her which has you whipping your head to her direction to scowl at her. It does absolutely nothing to deter the sheer glee on her face as she sneers back to you. Some secret conversation passes between the two of you. Tim and Steph watch in slow motion as mortification creeps on to your face.

Suddenly (not really), Tim’s thankful that his only sister is practically a saint. At least compared to the horror that is Roz.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, you have a plethora of space-themed nicknames for him when you aren’t busy calling him whatever endearingly aggravating name Steph came up with that week.

Cosmo

Space Case

Space Nuts

Rocket Man

Martian Manhunter

Marvin (the Martian)

And your favorite, Cosmonaut.

At first, he figures it was because of his obsession love for Star Wars and Star Trek but no, that couldn’t be it since you had started calling him that long before you two ended up marathoning the entirety of Star Trek instead of working on your project. He can still remember just how engrossed you looked while watching as you hugged your knees to your chest leaning forward as you waited for the next episode to start up with bated breath. Your features highlighted by the glow of the laptop screen making it very easy for Tim to memorize the contours and angles of your expression. Yet another moment Tim really wanted to capture with a photo. You even did your mouth twitch thing without noticing.

He really wanted to just keep an entire album of all the different expressions you made. Wait. That sounds weird. Does it sound weird? It probably does.

Then again, maybe you called him those because of just how much of a weirdo he was. He couldn’t blame you if you did. But he found that highly unlikely. Sure, you can be mean at times (a lot of times) but you were too oblique for that. Years in customer service made sure of that. Your jabs were usually of the subtler, more needling variety. The type that makes you pause for too long. Plus, you said every nickname with a fondness that made his heart skip a beat. It was like when you called Roz or Steph ‘Fucker’. Maybe a little warmer. Or he could just be imagining that. Probably. Hopefully not. It was hard to get the honey-sweet way you said them out of his head.

Maybe they were just jabs. Lighthearted one. They could have just had easily been comments on just how much he spaced out. Tim has a tendency to live in his own head and it shows especially when he’s stressed or tired or both. Sometimes he would completely shut down as a result of excess anxiety. He can still remember the number of times he had let his anxieties run rampant letting them drag him away from the moment. His breaths were too quick to back then. He felt like he was gonna faint but then you just smiled at him like you were there for him which as it turned out you were. You gently squeezed each segment of his fingers until his breaths slowed. Even when he did fully calm down, you didn’t relinquish his hand. You held them firmly in your own even as you looked entirely unsure of what to do and what to say. You didn’t whisper the usual ‘you’re ok’ or the classic ‘you’ll be fine’. No, you just sat there with him quietly. Letting his feelings ebb and flow as he needed them to.

Tim really isn’t sure what he did to deserve even knowing someone like you but he would do it again and again if it meant being able to stick close to you.

Roz, ever the agent of chaos, throws a conspiratorial smile around the table like a flail. You look like you’ve been hit by one.

“Sorry, Steph. You won’t get one,” she says glancing at you. Steph pouts before she and Tim follow Roz’s gaze expecting you to glower or snarl or get up to deck her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You just kind of sit there frozen and mortified with a face that simply says ‘Oh. God. This is happening.’. All you can really do is mouth a ‘fuck you’. This obviously pleases Roz. Say what you will about Roz, but there is abso-fucking-lutely no denying that she is petty as hell when it comes to revenge. Nothing is sacred to this woman. Nothing.

“Why’s that?” Steph asks innocently, smiling around her bendy straw also enjoying this rare chance to torment you.

“I’m so glad you asked!” Roz answers her voice twisting into a horrifying facsimile of a daytime talk show host. You peel your arm away from the backrest and place your arms over your head and neck as you do in an earthquake drill bracing for impact. By the way, you were shaking, you’d think there was an actual earthquake. Your reasoning can’t be that stupid.

“My dear Stephanie-” Steph scrunches her nose at the overly sweet tone Roz lathers on her name but makes no move to interrupt. “(y/n) only uses space-related nicknames for people they think are- and I quote- ‘waaaaaay outta their league’,” You let out a pained groan and Steph’s face unfurls as she lets out the loudest snort, loud enough to draw the attention of several tables around them.

Tim’s mind is still reeling, still trying to process what Roz just said.

Him?

Out of your league?

Excuse him, isn’t it the other way around?

What the hell?

“Tim, for the love of Alfred, please unhear that,” you plead wetly, parking your head out just enough for Tim to see just how red your face has gotten. “God, please unhear it or I might just die,” Tim kind of didn’t doubt that you would. Steph somehow laughs even louder at this. Roz, not one to miss pouring salt in the wound, laughs along with her. You look like you wanted to implode out of existence. You could certainly try but Tim seriously doubts the universe is kind enough to let you escape.

Yeah, Tim’s brain has officially left the building. He’ll be back at 9 o’clock sharp tomorrow. Promise.

“You mean to tell me that-” Steph chokes, unable to control her laughing fit. “-You’re telling me that you’ve been watching them pine for each other for over a year now and you just let them?!” Steph wheezes still holding her stomach.

Roz looks offended and makes a whiny little noise. “Weeeell, technically I offered to wingman-”

“YOU WERE GONNA CHARGE ME FIFTY BUCKS,”

“Hey, matchmaking is hard,”

“It isn’t worth fifty bucks!”

“You’re right! It is worth so much more,”

“God, I hate you,” you groan into the table.

“God can’t help you now, kid,”

Tim frowns, mind backtracking to dissect the information. Apparently, his brain decided to clock back in.

They knew. Even Roz ‘I don’t give a shit what you do as long as it doesn’t affect me’ Andrada, noticed. Was he that obvious?

A year? Wait. No. Over a year. They knew about this for over a year.

Lastly, what do you mean each other?! As in mutual? Mutual pining?

As if reading his thoughts, you ask “Wait… what do you mean each other?”

Roz blinks at you not entirely sure if you’re being funny. When you give her a look, she slumps back in her chair. “I’m related to a dumbass,”

“That you are. Speaking of dumbasses-” Steph whips her attention to Tim giving him a shit-eating grin.”-You said you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask (y/n) out, right?” Steph waves her hands doing jazz hands as she points at your still dumbstruck figure. She’s smiling as if she was the world’s best wingman at the moment.

Tim suppresses a groan. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it,”

Roz reaches into her pocket and produces a lighter. Grabbing the last of Tim’s fries and lighting it. “There. Mood lighting. Do the thing.”

“Ah yes, because surely the scent of burning potatoes is gonna sweep (y/n ) off their feet,” Tim said flatly crossing his arms. He knows he’s definitely focusing on the wrong thing but as with all things it was easier to procrastinate. This is especially true when you’re afraid of the outcome.

Roz huffs, waving the fry to extinguish it and muttering something about beggars and choosers. “Trust me kid that isn’t hard to do. Besides, did you not hear the part where I quoted (y/n) about you being ‘outta their league’,” You open your mouth to protest but slam it shut when Roz gives you a lopsided grin looking like she had a mountain of dirt on you which she likely did. He was definitely thankful that she has never met his family. He’s pretty sure Gotham wouldn’t survive.

“How could I possibly be out of (y/n)’s league. I- I don’t- I mean- I’m not-”

Your body twists his way fast enough that he’s sure you either have whiplash or a twisted spine. Your eyes are set on him glowering as if he’d said something wrong. He’s pretty sure he didn’t although he did have a talent for putting his foot in his mouth. Your jaw is set tight, your teeth almost grind. He could see the tight hitch in your shoulders. He is 100% sure you’re going to deck him.

“Do you want it listed alphabetically or what?”

“What?”

“Structure it like an argumentative essay. Speak nerd.” Roz instructs, earning her the full force of your glare. Your face pinches even more. Maybe this was the part where you implode.

You suck in a calming breath before turning back to Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are a fucking moron, and here’s why:” Taking another breath, you turn to face him fully your cheeks reddening but you press on either from pure unadulterated spite or determination.

“You quite literally co-run a multibillion-dollar corporation. You’ve been doing that since you were seventeen apparently. You know several languages and you are not only fluent but proficient. You’re well versed in an insane amount of fighting styles. You are the smartest dumbass I know-”

“Preach!” Steph jokes.

“-You can basically operate any machinery I put in front of you. I have no doubt you can Macgyver one up if you fucking wanted. You could hack into any system you want just as a joke. You could probably throw the entire global economy into the toilet just for shits and giggles. Need I go on?”

Tim looks at you wide-eyed and speechless. You shrink a little as he continues to gape at you but you keep looking him in the eyes daring him to refute your claims. Really what was there to say? As much as he wants to come up with something witty to snap back at you, his chest is too crowded with warmth from the absolute sincerity of your voice. He knows you didn’t set out to make him fall deeper in love with you but he feels like he’s in free fall with your gravity pulling him downwards. Tim can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears.

You shrink again, your mouth twitching. “I-” Another calming breath. “I said too much. But my point stands!” The infinitesimal gap he felt between the two of you practically vanished. Still, he could do nothing but stare. Words fail him in the most inopportune moments even when you look so desperate for any kind of response. You swallow thickly looking like you think you’ve ruined everything when the fact was you haven’t. Quite the opposite really. Tim feels like he could take on the entirety of Gotham’s rogue gallery right now. Still, his brain was drawing a blank.

“Mood,” His brain has short-circuited and is now beyond repair. His palm is in his face before he even sees your reaction. You give him an entire speech about how great he is and all he can say is ‘mood’. Looking over at Steph and seeing her phone on her hands, he can tell she’s already transcribing the events to the group chat. Well, It can’t get any worse.

You giggle snort eyes slamming shut from the force of your laughter. Joy suffuses throughout your tense body, loosening your tense muscles. “Thank you for proving my point,” you say between gasps.

Tim falls victim to the infectious smile spreading on your face. He feels the warmth crowding his chest grow fuzzy.

Now’s your chance.

Tim takes a steadying breath. He rolls his shoulder back to straighten his posture. He waits for you to calm yourself a bit. When you do, he asks as confidently as he can “Are you free this Saturday?”

“No,”

Oh crap. He knew he screwed up. He feels cold seep into his feet.

You shake your head at his panic. “I work Saturday, ET,”

“Oh, I-”

“I have all of Sunday off though,” A hum of excitement spreads through his limbs. “Name your time,”

“9 AM?”

You give him a look roughly translating to ‘You aren’t going to lose sleep over a date, so help me’.

“11:30?” He corrects. You smile and hum seemingly making the oxygen in the atmosphere disappear. He finds that he doesn’t mind, not when he feels like he’s floating on zero gravity.

-------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

Steph: Tim’s a dumbass😌🙃

Damian: Thank you for stating the obvious, Brown.

Step: 🙄 Do you wanna hear about it or not?

Dick: 👀We’re listening…

Steph: (Y/n) made this whole speech about Tim and all Tim could say was 'mood' cycgu9c8ychic8td 5d8fcouv9ygpuv

Jason: F

Duke: F

Cass: F

Babs: F

Dick: F

---------------

Thanks for reading!!!!!

Taglist:

@idkmanicantenglish, @batarella, @batarella-mini, @birdy-bat-writes, @anothertimdrakestan, @founduebitches , @lucy-roo

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #tim drake #batboys #step brother #wingmanning is hard #batfam #red robin #dc fanfiction #dc x reader

193 notes · View notes

spicysoftsweet · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 12

Masterlist

Kumi stood at the kitchen sink, the sound of the running water over the dishes she was attempting to wash barely registering in her head. It wasn’t that she was thinking about anything else - the activity was mindless for her and her head was nearly blank. She stared outside the closed window above the kitchen sink, her hands still moving deftly as she rinsed plate after plate and set them aside to dry.

Outside was quiet and tonight, the sky was particularly bright and starry, and Kumi decided she liked living here.

The rural town, a drive out from bustling Kyoto, was quite peaceful, and while her and her grandmother lived in a more isolated region with the next house being at least a ten minute walk away, it wasn’t truly the countryside proper. She was thankful for this, once she’d awoken from her depressive episode where she’d lacked the will to even argue when her parents sent her away. The kids at school did look at her a little funny, few of them having seen a hafu before, but there wasn’t much difference from the behavior of the kids in Tokyo after a while.

Kumi also found that her initially stern looking grandmother was possibly the sweetest woman alive, pale as her mother and much smaller in height and frame as her. The old woman was also a very good listener and had been patient enough to hear her out once Kumi finally decided to talk, in sharp contrast with her parents who were now terrified to say anything, especially after her father had only said the wrong things initially.

Things were getting better, in some fashion. Kaksi had stopped calling her weeks ago so the guilt she felt any time she avoided the line was eased. She had almost lost her resolve when even Mitsuya called, but she was determined that the best way to heal would be to avoid anyone from back then. She longed to talk to Kaksi however, and she knew there was no one she’d meet that could replace that bond at her new school.

She was almost finished with her task when she noticed a small cockroach running along the outside of the windowsill, trying to make its way inside, attempting to shield itself from the growing winter cold. She found herself pausing and staring, not in fear but in fascination, until a memory came to mind.

“If you’re gonna ride on my bike, you’ll need to address it properly.” Baji told Kumi, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest but with a grin on his face.

“This is an inanimate object,” Kumi said, pressing her lips together. All she wanted was a ride home, and she’d already convinced herself that getting on this boy’s bike wouldn’t immediately cause her death but now that he was being silly about it, she was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe walking alone wouldn’t be so bad.

“Yeah, but it also has a name. Goki, like Gokiburi, you know.” He said, hopping over it with one leg, and letting it tilt. “If you’re gonna get on, you have to say ‘ Good evening, Gokiburi-san’ first, and then we can go to your house.”

Kumi readjusted her bookbag, looking at the space behind him on the bike, then at him. She shrugged.

“Go-ki-bu-ri?” she pronounced carefully, looking at him for approval and he nodded. She repeated the words he’d asked her to say with a bow, and Baji stifled a laugh.

She pouted.

“Hey, did you make me say something stupid?”

“No, of course not,” he replied, reaching out a hand behind him to help her up. It was her first time on his bike, and she did find that her heart pounded once she’d settled onto the seat.

“Please go slowly,” she pleaded, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

Kumi tried to resist the urge to cling to the boy too hard once the engine started, anticipating that he’d speed off to scare her, but instead he was considerate, moving slowly in the direction of her place. Once her heart rate slowed to normal, she felt the need to start a conversation, and she said the name again.

“Go-ki-bu-ri. Gokiburi. Goki… buri.”

“Huh?” Baji asked, eyes still facing the front.

“It sounds cute,” she admitted, with a chuckle.

He laughed.

“Oh really? Now that I think of it, it reminds me of you.”

Baji’s back tensed, perhaps anticipating a slap, but Kumi’s cheeks warmed up instead. She had no idea what a gokiburi was, and Baji only realized once she grew quiet and they’d arrived at her place that she had no understanding of the mean joke he had just made.

His own cheeks reddened, once she thanked him sincerely for the ride, flustered once he realized she’d taken his roast as a compliment. He didn’t have the heart to explain himself now, especially when it occurred to him that she was pretty when she smiled.

“I… uh, no problem!”

It was only the next day when Kaksi said bluntly, “he said you looked like a cockroach,” that he received that slap for real.

Kumi continued to watch the cockroach march along, until it was out of view, unsure whether to smile or cry.

---

As the end of her last year in middle school approached, Kaksi figured that she had no use in making new friends, so she drowned her troubles with studying, doing her best to enter a high school where she would be sure she’ll never see any Toman member again. Unfortunately, that was not what she truly desired.

Kaksi wanted her friends back - she wanted Baji to push her a little too hard when they would fight, she wanted Kumi to give her that annoyed look when she would tease her too much, she wanted to hear Mikey laugh and smile with his eyes and she wanted Kazutora to push her gently when she wanted to play on the swings nearby.

These were the thoughts that plagued her mind each time she would find herself crying by herself. She knew she wouldn’t feel this way forever, however. Nothing lasted, after all. She had learned that fact rather brutally. Yet sometimes it felt like none of her wounds were healing and one of the people she missed the most taunted her.

If there was someone that she had trouble imagining her life without, it would be Kazutora. Having known him since childhood, Kaksi figured he would always be by her side but she had been wrong and while his absence hurt, she had started to get used to it. Her most recent good memories with Kazutora dating back to before Shinichiro’s death, she couldn’t ignore the gap that was separating them anymore.

Kaksi would keep her promise and welcome Kazutora back in ten years, but the one that she wanted to see right now was Mikey. She felt a little guilty at that realization but there was no escaping those emotions anymore. While Kazutora was gone, it was Mikey that would have her on the back of his bike, it was him that would listen to her talk and it was him that made her laugh and while she was sorry that it had appeared to him that he was Kazutora’s placeholder, he was so much more than that.

She wished he knew that, she wished he believed that. Even though she had spent most of her time burying this love, Kaksi could never pretend like Mikey meant nothing to her. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she had returned Mikey’s feelings because she did love him so much, she hoped he would come back to her one day.

Unfortunately, she never saw his CB250T in front of her apartment block again or his face. Faster than she had anticipated she had graduated middle school and was getting ready to start a new chapter of her life. She was satisfied with the high school she was able to enter, she couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t see any familiar faces until her first day but she figured that even if she did she could ignore them.

Once she had started school again, she was relieved to not have seen any Toman member she had ever been close to and had decided it was time for her to make new friends. But that turned out to be way harder than anticipated when only one week into the school year, rumors had started to spread about her boyfriend.

The worst thing about what she would hear was that it was too close to the truth for her to even argue. So she kept quiet when girls would mutter about Kazutora’s crimes whenever they saw Kaksi’s face. She did manage to always get paired up with someone when group work was unavoidable but she quickly learned that those who paid attention to her only cared about the grades she could earn them.

It was lonely but not that bad Kaksi convinced herself. By the middle of the school year, no one would look at her in contempt when she would have lunch by herself and that felt good enough. Those she would be nice to also started returning the favour and while she didn’t exactly have any friends, it started to be more bearable. Now she did still wonder about how Kumi, Chifuyu and Mikey were doing but she doubted her memory would ever erase any of the people she had loved and still loved and she was fine with that, most days.

There was one time though that she started sobbing uncontrollably. Frustrated by her homework, Kaksi had hurriedly and violently started to empty her desk’s drawers, looking for an old lesson she swore she had kept somewhere. Instead of what she was looking for, it was old pictures that had slipped from the pages of one of the many unused journals she owned. She had sighed picking them up without initially realizing what they were.

Once her brown eyes had focused on the faces printed on the paper, she wasn’t able to stop her tears. She wanted to smile, those pictures represented happy memories, after all, but she only grew nostalgic looking at Kumi’s cute smile, Mikey’s grimace, Baji’s frown and all the other Toman members she had once called her friends’ faces.

Once she had calmed herself down she had put those pictures away safely, somewhere it wouldn’t be disturbed again. Then she had gotten back to her math problem, tears all dried up. She still missed her friends and she wondered if they did too but maybe she was having a harder time moving on than they were, she wasn’t sure.

Either way, time always proved to be the solution to what she felt and suddenly she had finished her first year of high school. Things were moving by quickly and Kaksi had a pretty clear idea of what she wanted to do. She would be going to college after graduating and studying psychology, hoping she could pursue a career in that field eventually.

Her second year of high school seemed to be more interesting than the first one and she found it funny to discover all those new faces as the first years appeared. She wondered if what was told about her would spread to them too, she was unsure and she didn’t really care, having confirmed to quite a few people that her boyfriend was in fact in jail and they should probably not stay close to her (jokingly, although everyone took her seriously).

One person, however, started having lunch at her table every day. Kaksi assumed she was a first-year, not having seen her face before. She had wide blue eyes and white medium length hair. She was also much shorter than Kaksi and while she looked intimidating, it only made her prettier to Kaksi.

She hadn’t expected the girl to ever talk to her and especially not to say what she did, but Kaksi would learn fast that this new face was full of surprises.

“I love your hairstyle,” she said with a smile, the serious facade she wore seconds ago completely disappearing.

Kaksi’s eyes widened slightly. While they looked nothing alike, the girl had a very similar smile to Mikey’s.

“Thanks.”

“You should bring me with you next time you cut your hair,” she added, cheerfully.

Kaksi chuckled but agreed, having just met Senju Akashi.

---

Senju knew what loneliness felt like, being in the position she was in from such a young age she figured being close to anyone could only bring her trouble. So she spent her time with her brother and older men that shared her objectives. Still, she remained a fifteen year old even though she was on her way to be the leader of a growing gang very soon.

This was why when she noticed Kaksi wandering the hallways by herself and eating alone, her curiosity was picked. Senju didn’t want to ask her if the rumours were true but as they made a habit of sharing lunch together she eventually learned a few things about Kaksi.

From the way she subtly clung to her, Senju could tell she had been longing for someone to talk to and so did Senju. Yet there was a certain distance she wanted to keep with her new friend, not because she didn’t want her to get closer but rather because she didn’t want her to get hurt. It felt strange to Senju how quickly she found herself caring about the brunette.

“I can help you with this if you want,” Kaksi suggested, looking at the biology lesson Senju failed to understand despite reading and rereading.

“You’re a savior! Are you free this afternoon after school?”

Kaksi was about to agree when she remembered she had cram school on Wednesday afternoons. She shook her head.

“But I could pass by your place once I’m done,” she told her.

This wouldn’t do. Senju refused politely, making up a quick excuse but Kaksi pointed out regardless that her test was tomorrow morning and if she wanted help last minute this was her only solution. The brunette wouldn’t have insisted if this was the first time Senju had been reticent about having Kaksi over at her place. She didn’t know anything about the Akashi household after all, but Senju had a strange presence.

She was skilled at getting close to Kaksi just enough for her to not doubt their friendship but she was also distant enough that Kaksi started to wonder if maybe she was misinterpreting something. Despite anticipating that asking Senju to come over to her place instead wouldn’t change anything she asked her regardless but all that she earned was another excuse as well as her friend suddenly remembering she had something urgent to pick up now.

Kaksi sighed, left alone, watching the short girl walk away. Ever since they had met, Senju wouldn’t leave her alone but the minute she would want to see her in other settings than school, her friend would grow distant. Now that she thought about it, Senju never actually went to the hairdresser with Kaksi, she went by herself and had told her she had done it on a whim.

This had bothered Kaksi enough to notice it but she decided to stay quiet. Senju was still the light that had emerged in the darkness that was Kaksi’s loneliness and if she desired to keep her at a distance for a moment then so be it. Besides, this took nothing away from the joys of having someone to count on again.

---

“I figured you were too pretty to be single,” Senju told her, nonchalantly. “But I did not expect any of the things you told me.”

They both laughed, back rested against the wall of one of the high school buildings.

“I guess that was a lot for middle schoolers,” Kaksi said, with a sad smile, the memories of what she had just explained to Senju still haunting her.

Senju’s blue eyes stared at her friend for a moment. She felt bad for what Kaksi had to endure but she felt even worse for hiding what she kept. For someone who had paid the price of knowing people this involved in the sad reality of what it meant to be a delinquent, it felt unfair to Senju to ever think about telling Kaksi the truth about who she was.

She wondered what her friend would think if she was to find out, she would probably be terrified and angry but Senju had no intention of ever leaving Kaksi. She would escape death just to be able to laugh and share snacks with her.

Senju’s hand found Kaksi’s cold one and held it gently before resting her head against her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you had to deal with all that.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaksi said, with a small smile. “This got depressing really fast.”

She was surprised that talking about the events that had unfolded almost two years ago didn’t make her cry. Back then it felt like overcoming her feelings were impossible but so many things had changed since. Still, Kaksi could never pretend that her scars didn’t hurt anymore but having met Senju she felt like maybe it was time for her to finally move on.

Senju didn’t say anything, getting up instead and extending her arms to help Kaksi stand up too.

“Let’s go get boba after school,” Senju suggested, smiling and holding both of Kaksi’s hands. “My treat after making you sad.”

Kaksi’s eyes widened slightly, this was the first time Senju had proposed meeting outside of school.

“Sure,” she agreed, smiling back and excited to see her after class.

This was something Senju had wanted to avoid, the fear of involving people she cared about with her life as a gang leader and she should have felt bad for putting Kaksi at risk even if it was a little bit but she just wanted a friend so badly. She wanted to go to the movies with Kaksi, go shopping with her, try new restaurants with her and have sleepovers with her. Those were all normal things Senju desired and for the first time, someone could give it to her and not just anyone.

Kaksi could feel her cold hands getting warmer thanks to Senju’s. They parted ways as the bell rang but soon they were reunited again and as they walked down the streets together, Senju found it to be incredibly addictive, maybe as much as Kaksi did too, hand in hers again as if she never left and never would.

---

It was endearing to watch but it remained bittersweet. When Mikey chanced upon the girl he used to love, three years after telling her he didn’t want her in his life anymore, he felt a strange sensation. His heart, which barely ever manifested now, fluttered for the first time in a while, reminding him that despite his feelings fading with time, some things would permanently leave their traces on him.

Kaksi had changed slightly, her hair appeared wavier with new bangs which Mikey thought suited her. She also looked a little more mature and he wondered if she’d grown taller too. He couldn’t be sure as he watched her sitting on the terrace of a coffee shop with an unfamiliar person who he assumed was her friend.

Her smile remained the same as she laughed at what the white haired-girl in front of her said. Mikey knew he should probably not stand there and stare but he couldn’t help it. It had been so long since he had seen her and the memory of her had never disappeared, remaining in the back of his mind.

He wasn’t sure if she had stopped talking to the other Toman members she used to be close with since Mikey would never talk about her but he figured she did. He had stopped seeing her pretty abruptly after all and he wasn’t even sure what her plans would be once she would graduate high school at the end of the school year.

He felt a little jealous about her friend, whoever this girl was she made Kaksi happy, happier than he had ever done. This was what he wished for, for her to move on from the troubles he could only bring to her. So he was relieved that after all, he did manage to keep her safe. Even though it hurt to know he could never be someone important in her life again.

Things had changed for the worst for Mikey but they had changed for the best for Kaksi and while he still missed her terribly he knew things were better this way. Even if Mikey would remain a bystander in her life forever it didn’t matter as long as she was happy and safe. Little did Mikey know though that trouble could never stay too further away from Kaksi.

So it was without knowing who was Kaksi’s innocent friend that Mikey walked away eventually, not sure he would ever see her again but hoping he would not, as staying away from him was more of a blessing than anything else. Then when he was gone it felt like his heart had grown cold once again.

Senju clenched her knuckles, sitting on the couch of the room she used as her office when she needed to talk business with her clients. She had been careless and she wondered what her next move should be. Her brother sat next to her, taking a sip of whiskey from the cold glass in his hands. He didn’t say anything, knowing that pointing out his little sister’s mistakes now would anger her more than anything.

“She’s just my friend,” she said, talking to herself, more than to Takeomi. “She has no business with any of this.”

“But she would have been a good target if you hadn’t anticipated this.”

Senju chuckled but rage overtook her. Whoever they were, this person that thought targeting Kaksi as revenge for whatever dirty business Brahman was involved, they were fucking stupid and would be easy work for Senju. Still, this entire situation was not supposed to happen at all. She knew that trying to rival Toman and having Brahman endorse various crimes would earn her many enemies but still, she had hoped no one would ever think about hurting the one she loved.

She was going to keep Kaksi safe and had already tightened her security but this still didn’t solve her main issue. Senju needed to tell her the truth. She had thought about it for a long time, and as her guilt built up and her fear increased she had found herself going out of her way to protect her, and this was exactly how she had come to learn someone thought of Kaksi as an easy target.

While Senju was confident that this would not happen again, she knew she had been selfish and if she had been any less careful, this could have cost her the life of an innocent person she cared deeply about. It was sickening, to say the least, and she realised it was terribly unfair to Kaksi. Senju was almost sure that once her secret would be unveiled that Kaksi would understandably part ways with her.

Her friend would be starting college soon anyways she thought, maybe this was the right time to tell her. Senju hoped that not seeing Kaksi would make it easier for her to move on once she would decide a relationship wasn’t worth continuing with her. This brought tears to her eyes as she barely slept that night but she couldn’t lie to her best friend forever.

---

“So you lied to me?” Kaksi barked at her.

The truth that Senju had just revealed to her on this Thursday afternoon felt like another knife sinking in her heart. Not only was her friend lying to her ever since they had met but she was also the head of an infamous gang, competing with Toman in the underground world.

“I was just trying to protect you.”

This was another lie. No, Senju had just been selfish and they both knew it.

“You knew how badly I needed to get away from all this,” Kaksi said, her brown eyes filled with tears.

She was right but Senju hadn’t anticipated that she would have grown that attached to this girl she meant to only share lunch with. By the time Kaksi had told her about her painful past they were already too close for Senju to even imagine how she would feel if she was to lose her.

“I’m sorry,” was all Senju could say as she watched her friend cry for the first time. “I fucked up.”

Kaksi stayed quiet for a moment. She couldn’t believe that even after all this time she could never really get rid of the ghosts of her past. No matter who she loved they always somehow found themselves involved in things Kaksi could never control. She didn’t want to try to understand why a person as kind and sweet as Senju would spend her life covered in blood.

There were a hundred peer-reviewed papers on the risks of delinquency she could easily dig up if she wanted to but as she was faced with her best friend’s betrayal she decided that it didn’t matter. Whatever reasons Senju would give her, it would never make up for her broken trust and heart. So, filled with anger and sadness, she asked the girl to never speak to her again.

Senju didn’t even want to argue with her; these were the expected consequences of her mistakes. So she left without a word, closing Kaksi’s door behind her, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. She wished that things were less complicated but as Brahman’s leader, this wasn’t a position she wanted to leave. She had grown up thinking that it was normal to live against the laws. She wished she could blame Takeomi for raising her this way but Senju knew she could only blame herself.

Kaksi and her were far too different after all and she didn’t want her friend to understand her, she didn’t think there was anything to understand. While it hurt to walk away from the only person she could say she trusted entirely with her heart and soul, there wasn’t anything she could do except comply with Kaksi’s wishes and not hold onto the past years spent by her side.

---

As usual, Kaksi found that drowning her troubles with keeping her mind busy worked. Not spending any more time with Senju she used her free time to study harder as the anxiety of graduation approached along with the tiring process she would have to go through to be accepted into one of the universities she wished to enter.

As she went through her notes for the hundredth time she wondered why even Senju would bother with school if she planned on spending her life making money through drugs, assault and prostitution. She doubted she would ever get an answer and she realised it didn’t really matter, she didn’t think she knew or understood Senju that much after all.

She missed her though and she loved her, so much that she wondered how bad morally it would be to make up with her and how dangerous exactly was it to stay in her close circle. This was all irrational thinking, she knew and she would benefit a lot if she used that energy to learn her physics lesson instead but Kaksi was tired of losing people she cared about.

Which was worse? Dying prematurely but surrounded by the people she loved or dying old but lonely? She wanted to believe that it was bad luck that had her meet the wrong people but what if she just could never run away from what she longed to escape? Maybe Kumi had made the right decision leaving Tokyo and maybe she should do the same but leaving was unlike her, wasn’t it?

She knew she was wrong for thinking this way but how would Senju ever move on from all this if no outside forces pulled her out of it? Kaksi was aware that wanting to stay by Senju’s side hoping that she would leave behind the path she had currently chosen was a waste of time but she was an idealist and way more optimistic than she thought she was.

Or maybe loneliness was that scary, she didn’t really know. What she did know though was that Senju wanted her by her side, unlike everyone else she had never wanted to leave her behind. Even if it was selfish in a way, it felt good to know that someone needed Kaksi as much as she needed them. Still hesitant, she gave the situation more thought.

Senju felt like she couldn’t even look at Kaksi when she walked down the hallways and the fact that the girl would pass by as if she had never even known her made it all the more painful. Both of them sat by themselves and ate lunch separately again. They both realized their separation was dreadfully obvious since multiple people would ask them why they weren’t seen together anymore.

Kaksi would tell them this was none of their business while Senju told them to get lost. Soon she started wondering why she even bothered attending high school anymore - she had already chosen the path she would be taking as early as her first year and if Kaksi wasn’t going to help her out with her biology classes then she had no interest in spending any more time around these people.

She wondered if Kaksi would care if she dropped out of high school now but she realised she should not think about her friend at all. Even though it was impossible when she would see her face every day. So she made her decision and stopped attending school. Once Kaksi noticed, she worried about Senju but she figured this was none of her business. Part of her was scared that something bad had happened and she thought about texting her but she figured that if that was the case, she would rather not know.

They both ached from the separation regardless. Senju felt like she was always on edge and all the little things that once brought her joy became boring to her but that might have been because Kaksi made everything better. Senju was shocked by all the pieces of herself that Kaksi had left in her life.

As Senju brushed her hair while getting ready to sleep, she found the cherry-scented lip balm Kaksi wore hidden in the drawer of her vanity. She picked it up and smiled before applying it to her lips, she ran her tongue over them slowly, enjoying the sweet taste. It tasted better on Kaksi’s lips though, she remembered. The memory saddened her and yet she couldn’t help thinking about her first sleepover at Kaksi’s place.

Only the orange light from the lamp on her bedside table was on as they laid next to each other in bed. They had started play-fighting when Kaksi touched Senju’s bare legs with her cold feet but being much stronger than her friend Senju had managed to overpower her and remained on top, hugging her tightly instead.

She remembered they had talked about nothing and everything while she listened to her heartbeat. Back then Kaksi had thought she had never held another girl this close to her, even when she would hug Kumi it felt different but maybe it was because she was a few years older now, she didn’t really know. What she did know was that it was enjoyable.

Eventually, Senju had gotten slightly annoyed when Kaksi mentioned Kazutora again, but she figured it was normal to feel that way about him considering how he had hurt Kaksi and that despite that she had promised to wait for him until his sentence would be over. She didn’t say anything though, instead listening to her friend’s soft voice.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until Kazutora’s out,” she had said.

Senju had rolled her eyes at that sentence, thankful that Kaksi couldn’t see her expression from the position they were in.

“You’re seriously not going to date or do anything at all with anyone until he’s out?” Senju had asked, hiding her annoyance as best as she could.

“I guess so.”

“You know seven years is a long time and there’s a lot of cute guys out there to make out with.”

Kaksi had chuckled then.

“Kazutora’s cuter,” she had joked.

“As cute as me?” Senju had asked teasingly, looking up at Kaksi this time.

“Okay, maybe not as cute as you but unlike him, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Who said that?” Senju had replied, thinking she wouldn’t mind if they kissed once or maybe more now than she thought about it again.

It wasn’t visible but that comment had the heat spread over Kaksi’s features and as much as she wanted to ignore it she knew this was not a response she would have towards any of her friends, no this feeling was too familiar. Kaksi hadn’t said anything and Senju thought she should be filling the silence.

“I’ll kiss you if you want,” she told her, smiling.

And so they kissed. It was Senju’s first, slow and soft. Her lips pressed against Kaksi’s shyly and she worried for a second about how she would feel if her friend pulled away but she didn’t. Kaksi’s hand held Senju’s face instead and she kissed her back tenderly, her tongue meeting hers soon. This wasn’t an innocent kiss, both of them knew but never addressed it. They didn’t have to, they were as close as ever and cared about each other.

They hadn’t kissed again after that night though Senju wished they had, she wasn’t sure Kaksi did, however. Despite that moment they had shared, she would still talk about Kazutora and all the plans she had for the two of them. Senju hadn’t expected her to forget Kazutora after one kiss but she wished Kaksi was a little more realistic sometimes.

But it didn’t matter anymore, Kazutora was more likely to kiss Kaksi than Senju would ever again now and that thought sickened her. Senju rolled over under her bedsheets and considered she should get rid of the small things that reminded her of Kaksi. Even though she wasn’t sure this would help in any way.

---

The spring of the year 2008 marked the beginning of a new chapter in Kaksi’s life. As she woke up by herself in her newly rented apartment, a few minutes from her campus she wondered how Kumi was doing. She had stopped trying to reach her years ago but not thinking about her was almost impossible. She should be a college freshman like her now, probably attending a prestigious university.

For a moment Kaksi wondered if Kumi would ever return to Tokyo and if she had made the right decision not following through with her college applications to other parts of Japan. Despite the fresh smell of change and flowers blooming outside, she couldn’t help feeling like she was heading nowhere.

Kaksi hadn’t talked to Senju in months and she wondered if moving out from her parents' house had been a good idea after all as the weight of loneliness never really disappeared. She quickly got invested in her classes though, finding her field of study very interesting and fulfilling although she did struggle a little bit with adapting to her new lifestyle. She did not make any friends that semester, finding the number of people attending her classes a little too intimidating but maybe she was just too fragile still to try again.

On her way back home one afternoon she had decided to treat herself to coffee and some pastries, heading to the nearest bakery. It was a pet shop however that had caught her attention while she made her way over there. She stared through the glass windows and smiled at the sight of a few puppies, energetically playing with each other.

“An archaeologist?” he asked. “What even is that?”

Kazutora chuckled as a frown appeared on Kaksi’s face.

“Are you serious?” she asked, disappointed by Baji’s answer. “It’s a scientist who studies history by digging up human remains and artefacts.”

“Boring!” he complained, rolling his eyes at her. “Sounds like something you would enjoy.”

Kaksi’s eyes widened slightly before hitting his arm but Baji laughed as a response.

“Well I want to be a pet shop owner!” he said with a wide smile. “Pets love me. What about you, Kazutora?”

Kazutora stayed quiet for a moment, realizing he had never really thought about that question before.

“I don’t know.”

“You should work at my pet shop then!” Baji suggested excitedly as if he had been suddenly struck by the greatest idea.

Kazutora laughed.

“Seems like a good plan.”

Kaksi’s eyes filled with tears as the memory replayed in her mind and she decided it was time for her to move. She barely ate the chocolate muffin she had bought and drank her coffee once it was completely cold once she was home. It had been a long time since she had seen Baji and Kazutora but not long enough for her to contain her feelings it seemed.

She should pay Baji a visit, she decided. She would go tomorrow afternoon with some flowers. The last time she had visited his grave was on his birthday last year but she figured she should tell him that after all, she had decided to not pursue her studies with the goal of becoming an archaeologist. It was a little sad how the three of them would not achieve what they had talked about back when the days were simpler.

---

Kaksi was happy to see Baji’s grave wasn’t without flowers when she arrived. Even though they were dried up now, it seemed like someone had dropped him some not too long ago. She placed the new ones she had just bought over the dead ones and sat in front of his grave, a sad smile on her lips. As she usually did when she visited, Kaksi talked to Baji.

“I started college,” she told him. “I decided I’d study psychology though not anthropology.”

She paused for a moment as if she was waiting for an answer.

“I’m not sure you would find this less boring though,” she joked, smiling.

Kaksi filled the silence with a few more sentences and stopped once tears started rolling down her cheeks. She dried them off quickly before standing up and bidding goodbye to Baji. She really could never seem to stop crying when she would come to visit him. She left with a smile regardless but it faded quickly once her eyes landed on the man heading in her direction only a few meters away.

His green eyes widened at the sight of Kaksi and he stopped in his tracks. He didn’t think he would see her here or at all. Both of them stared at each other for a moment before breaking eye contact and starting to walk again in the direction they were headed. Chifuyu wondered if he should stop and talk to her as he approached and the same question clouded her mind.

They had both subconsciously agreed to stop midway between Baji’s grave and the exit of the cemetery. Chifuyu was hesitant to speak but he gave her a small smile. She had changed, he had noticed. She looked healthy but he couldn’t tell if she was happy or not, her brown eyes unreadable to him. Kaksi wanted to compliment his own hairstyle change but she didn’t say anything except for a polite greeting.

“It’s been a while,” Kaksi added, hesitant.

“Yeah.”

Chifuyu rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He hoped she was doing good but he didn’t think it would be wise to catch up with Kaksi.

“I hope you’re doing well, Chifuyu,” she said with a little smile, not waiting for his answer before walking away.

He murmured a little thanks and you too and even though he wanted to talk to her, Chifuyu walked towards Baji’s grave instead. Kaksi could feel a new wave of tears washing over her and she decided to sit on an empty bench she had spotted on her way home. She missed all of them so much still and the fear of never getting over these feelings took over her once again.

At that moment she knew what she had to do. She needed to see her again, she didn’t think she could stand eating by herself again tonight. Kaksi took out her phone and dialled Senju’s number. When Kaksi’s named appeared on her screen, Senju almost dropped her phone. She picked up as quickly as she could and wondered if she was dreaming for a moment. She didn’t excuse herself as she ran out of her office, leaving her brother behind.

“Kaksi?” she said, in a small voice.

She could hear the girl sniffle at the other end of the line and Senju worried for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kaksi replied, her voice trembling. “I just miss you.”

Senju’s blue eyes automatically filled with tears at those words.

“I miss you too.”

Kaksi smiled.

“Do you think we could meet soon?”

“We can meet now,” Senju replied. “Where are you?”

The brunette chuckled before sharing her location with her friend. Senju didn’t think twice before heading out to meet Kaksi. So she did miss Senju as much as she missed her but was that really enough for her to be forgiven? Senju was scared that her friend had only called her in a moment of weakness and she would lose her again somehow but as she appeared at the crossroads where Kaksi stood she figured it didn’t matter if she could be reunited with her even for a short moment.

Her friend smiled at her, her nose and eyes still red from crying. Senju walked over to her as quickly as she could and it was arms wide open that she welcomed her, embracing her tightly. Senju held her just as tightly, her face resting against her chest. They stood on the sidewalk like this for a moment. Then as Kaksi was reminded of how comforting Senju’s warmth felt, she decided she couldn’t afford to lose her again.

#baji x oc #kazutora x oc #tokyorev #off target effects #collab fic #mae.writing #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers #longfic

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 4 years ago

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Ukulele Practice (Captions)

Masterlist

Word count: 1,347

Warnings: Mixing of decade slang since the piece takes place between Episode 1 and 2 of WandaVision. Otherwise, nothing but fluff!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend @maceidelic @alexpress @angelvinella

Tip Jar

~~~

F minor, C, D minor, C… aaand done!

As you finished strumming on the borrowed ukulele, clapping started up to your right. You looked up with a sheepish smile to see Vision grinning and applauding.

“[Y/N],” the man exclaimed, “that was wonderful!”

You felt yourself blush and ducked your head before your company could see it. Absentmindedly plucking the strings of Vision’s uke, you asked, “Good enough for a talent show?”

Vision gave you pat on the shoulder. “Of course! A few more runs through to make it smooth and you’ll be right as rain.”

And then I have to add vocals, you thought, which is a whole other can of worms to be opened.

“Hello, charming husband, [Y/N]!” Wanda came trotting through the swinging kitchen door, a tray with water glasses and a pitcher in hand. Her hair was perfectly curled, her dress’s skirt perfectly flared and without a crease, and her house shoes perfectly shined. Perfect, as she and her husband often were.

“Hello, darling wife!” Vision chippered back. He quickly hopped to his feet and began making his way over to help, only to earn a casual warning look that had him turning around and sitting back on the couch at your side. “How’s the cooking going, dear?”

You had given Vision a ride home after work that day and he’d invited you in for an impromptu ukulele lesson, so he was still dressed in his work clothes, minus the suit jacket. His hair was a little unkempt after a long day, just a tad fluffy with a section of bangs that he had to keep pushing out of his glasses-framed eyes. You kept your eyes trained on Wanda as you felt Vision’s knee brush yours and weight shift slightly behind you as he casually draped his arm over the back of the couch.

You offered the woman a somewhat awkward smile. “Hello, Wanda.”

Wanda gave you a cheerful smile back, then walked over to place the tray down on the coffee table. “I heard a bit of the ukulele from the kitchen. You’re going to be fab at the talent show.”

“Here’s to hoping,” you half-mumbled. You eyed the tray now that it was sitting in front of you while your hands continued to carefully run along the instrument’s neck and strings.

“And cooking’s going fine, Vis,” Wanda continued, turning her attention to her husband. “We’re having chicken and dumplings, green beans and adamine salad, and, for dessert, pie!”

Just hearing about the meal made your mouth water; you didn’t notice how hungry you’d gotten over the couple hours of practice. You would probably go home to meat loaf leftovers.

Wanda apparently had other ideas. “You’ll be staying for dinner, right, [Y/N]?”

You looked up to meet her warm gaze. You shook your head and answered, “Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to intrude. I have food at home and work tomorrow…”

“Nonsense, [Y/N],” Vision joined in, “you’re welcome to stay. Food is almost done already, yes?”

“And I cooked enough for three,” Wanda pointed out in a sing-song tone.

You looked between the two of them, flustered by the sudden invitation. They made it clear that they weren’t having you turning away, though, so you gave a slight nod. “Well… alright then, if you’re sure.”

Wanda grinned and clapped once. “Wonderful! And maybe after dinner you can show me what you’ve been practicing for the past week.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, darling,” Vision said with a pleased nod. Then he gave you a playful nudge with his elbow. “You can play while Wanda and I cut a rug for practice. Ooh, or we could maybe jam together!”

“Maybe.”

“Why not now?” Wanda asked. “We have a little time until soup’s done warming. I’d be happy to show off my two left feet.”

Vision scoffed. “Darling, you’re a fine dancer.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Darling, neither of us is a fine dancer.”

Vision feigned offense before turning an expectant look your way. “What do you say, [Y/N]? Think you can manage to play without me?”

You looked between the couple again, then with a roll of your eyes and an exaggerated sigh, you readied the ukulele. “Fiiine.”

“Yes, right on!” Vision jumped to his feet, walked around the couch, and began shimmying his way to his wife’s side.

Wanda clapped again, then began swaying her way to meet Vision in the middle of the living room floor. When they reached together they assumed a slightly off dancing form. Apparently Wanda had been right about their dancing skills but neither of them seemed to mind.

You couldn’t help snickering at their silly display of affection before looking down at the instrument in your hands. You adjusted your grip a bit and settled your fingers into place. After a few strums to familiarize yourself, you started playing.

C…

Playing the first portion of the song without Vision’s immediate aid, you focused quite hard—to the point where you couldn’t respond to any of his or Wanda’s chatting, so they leaned into their dancing and quiet conversation together. However, after making it through the first half with little error, you decided to risk a look at the couple.

They had no form and lacked any sort of beat, but they were enjoying themselves and the just the sight of them being so happy made your insides turn to jelly. If you hadn’t been sure about whether you had a crush on the married couple before, you were certainly sure now.

Vision caught you staring from over Wanda’s head and he grinned at you. “Look at you! Playing without assistance and without staring at your hands!”

Vision gave Wanda twirl so she could see the fruits of your and Vision’s labor. She gasped and then gave you a smile that made her nose scrunch up in the cutest way. She said, “That’s great! The people of Westview are going to love you.”

Then she was spun back around and she and Vision kept dancing.

You went to reply, only for your hand to slip and butcher the song’s ending. You winced and paused while you recovered from the wipeout. “Not so good with playing and talking, clearly.”

Before you could start up again, Vision and Wanda separated and Vision walked over. He made a gesture for you to give him the instrument and once you did, he took his place next to you again and began strumming.

“That was completely my fault, apologies,” he said. He continued strumming and eventually picked up a random tune. “You did a fantastic job, though. The talent show will be a blast.”

“There’s still work to do but thank you.”

You felt strange without something to distract yourself from your attractive hosts, like you were missing a shield in a very underrated and completely nonexistent battle. You watched Vision’s hands for a moment as his fingers easily flitted over the ukulele strings, then turned to say something to Wanda. Instead of standing where she had been previously in the center of the empty living room floor, she was now standing by couch and holding out a hand to her.

You gave her a confused look and she gave an encouraging nod towards her outstretched hand. “Come on then. Vision’s playing now, so you and I get to dance.”

Heat sparked at your eartips and cheeks, and you looked over to Vision, who was playing away and completely undisturbed. He glanced at you and chuckled. “Might as well. She won’t let you escape until you do.”

Wanda scoffed from your other side.

Seeing another dilemma that you obviously weren’t going to escape, you gave a little shrug and reached out to take Wanda’s hand.

Brrring!

Saved by the bell. Or the kitchen timer, rather.

“Oh!” Wanda exclaimed, “That must be the chicken and dumplings! Too bad, [Y/N], we’ll have to dance another time.”

She left to the kitchen in a teasing wink.

You intestines tied themselves into bowties.

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radiorenjun · 4 years ago

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I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: vii, viii

"What? They can't just break up like that!" you gaped, shaking Renjun's shoulder lightly to exaggerate your point. Renjun rolled his eyes before clicking his tongue, "oh come on, you didn't see that coming? Their relationship was bound to end at some point, y/n."

You were both binge watching the ninth season of The Big Bang Theory at your house, originally planning to study and do chemistry homework together, but being the procrastinator you were, you ended up getting distracted. Hence, why the two of you are sitting on your bed watching one of the most heartbreaking episodes on The Big Bang Theory while munching on some pizza,

“But they were so cute together! My Shelamy heart can’t take this, Injun!” you shook your best friend aggressively as you continue to whine, ignoring the sighing boy who was contemplating on why he was even friends with you in the first place. “He even got a ring for her, if that isn’t the cutest thing ever then I don’t know what is,” you groaned, collapsing on your bed as the thought of someone giving you a wedding ring made your heart flutter.

“Always the hopeless romantic,” Renjun sighs, running a hand down his face as if to say ‘I’m so done right now’. “Disgusting,” he teased, letting out a soft grunt once he felt you throw a pillow at the back of his head. “Shut up, nerd. You still have to find your soulmate, why not let your magnificent best friend mourn over the fact that she’s gonna be single for the rest of her life and let a girl dream?” you joked, earning a dark glare from Renjun.

Ouch, why did that hurt? It was your own joke after all.

“Don’t say that you sadist. You need to stop making jokes bout the bad things in life, that’s not very healthy.” Renjun lectured, his hand coming up to pinch your cheek hard. You frowned, pulling his hand away from you as you chuckled nervously. “You know me, Jun. Humor is a coping mechanism for everything. I’m mad at you when you mock me for simping over Timothée Chalamet when he starred on Little Women? I use sarcastic humor as a revenge.”

“I feel frustrated for failing that test because the damn substitute teacher wouldn’t believe me that I didn’t skip school instead of spending the whole day in the infirmary with a twisted ankle, watching Goblin with the nurse? I use sardonic humor to snap back at said teacher.”

“I get sad for accepting the fact that I am going to be single for the rest of my life? I use dark humor to cope with it instead of curling up in a ball and eat ice cream for the rest of my life and get Type 2 Diabetes.” you shrugged shamelessly as Renjun gaped at you, rubbing his temples to slowly process on your words. “Okay, firstly,” he started.

“One, Timothée Chalamet in that movie was desperately simping over a girl who clearly didn’t deserve him. Come on, tell me you didn’t get annoyed when he keep saying the l word at Jo despite her spilling her feelings out and rejecting him countless of times.” Renjun inhaled, his eyes boring widely into yours, his words speaking nothing but facts. “I get that but-” you started before the older boy cut you off, “I’m not done yet.”

“Secondly, that substitute teacher wasn’t even a teacher. She was an ear raping machine, no one liked her. Also, I gotta admit spending a whole school day watching the Goblin arguing with The Grim Reaper instead of spending excruciating hours writing your wrist off and trying not to snooze in the middle of Mr. Lee’s math lecture would’ve been the most luxurious thing a student could ever ask for”. And I am pissed off you got injured and left me there in class, suffering all by myself.” he laughed, flicking you on the forehead teasingly.

“Lastly, if you want to say something bout Jaemin, you know you could’ve just say so instead of sugar coating it.” Renjun sucked in his lips, smacking you with the pillow you threw at him previously, mentally preparing himself to comfort you knowing that you’re bout to go on another rant of how much you missed Jaemin. But if it helps you feel better and take another small step to moving on, then he’ll listen to you rant til his brain implodes.

You frowned, letting out a soft chuckle. “You know me too well, Jun.” you felt tears lining up your eyes, you leaned your head up, trying to blink the tears away. “It’s not helping when he’s literally next door. Or in the same school as I am, or in the same planet.” you leaned back to lay on your back on the mattress, your pillow hugged tightly to your chest as you let out a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Renjun patted your knee, silently urging you to continue to let out your thoughts. You couldn’t advert your gaze away from your ceiling, “He used to be so sweet before this whole soulmate ordeal,” you began with a sniffle. “Honestly, middle school was one of the best eras of my life. When me and Jaemin were just clowns on crack playing Five Nights At Freddy’s and goofing off, it still makes my heart flutter when I think bout the memorable moments we shared in middle school.” you closed your eyes as a flood of memories clouded your mind.

7th grade, an iconic year for your friendship. “Y/N!” Jaemin called out from the other side of the classroom, causing you to turn to him in the middle of your little gossip session with your friends. “You wanna play truth or dare with us?” he asked with a sweet smile, a few of your classmates gathering to the back of the class to sit down in a circle. You nodded in excitement, ditching your friends in hopes you get a spicy dare.

You sat in between Lia and Jeno, rubbing your hands together as you waited your turn to either give or receive a truth or dare. “Jaemin! Truth or dare?” a boy whose name you can’t recall asked with a mischievous smile. Jaemin rolled his eyes before answering “dare” with a bold, cocky smirk, eyes practically challenging his classmate to give him an extreme dare. The boy stopped to contemplate before turning to him with a cheeky chesire grin.

“Since you’re so close to Y/n, why don’t you sit on her lap?” the boy snarled, causing your classmates to let out whistles and soft “ooo”s around you. You raised a brow, “wait a second, that’s not fair. This is his dare not mine, why am I the one being sat on.” you whined as Jaemin tried to hide his flustered expression of sitting on his best friend’s lap. “Well, it’s a dare either way, he’s gotta do it whether he wants to or not.” he stuck his tongue out at you as you hissed back.

“Fine.” you mumbled as Jaemin laughed and tried to conceal his flustered expression and sat on your lap idly, his hands in between his legs as you try to restrain yourself from wrapping your arms around his waist and making things even more awkward than it already is. “What’s the big deal? You wanted me to sit on her lap, why are you so shocked?” Jaemin laughed as a few of your classmates just stared at the two of you in disbelief.

“How are you not uncomfortable with a guy sitting on top of your lap?” your friend asked from across the group circle. You shrugged, raising your brow as Jaemin lets out a laugh, shrugging in response as well. “Is it wrong for a person to sit on their best friend’s lap?” Jaemin asked with a raise of his brow, a teasing smile evident on his face as your friend struggled to find the words to say next.

“I must admit, you are quite heavy. I don’t think my legs are going to last long with your heavy, tall giraffe-like body.” you laughed, causing Jaemin to turn his head back at you with a glare, letting out a small sinister smile. ”That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, y/n. Suffer.” he spoke in a bittersweet tone.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you had Mr. Na Jaemin sitting on your lap? For how long? All because of a dare?” Renjun paused, rubbing his temples to process this whole information. He knew Jaemin was a shameless and rather affectionately touchy boy, but he didn’t know that he was willing to accept such a gutsy dare. Yet again, this is you, he’s talking bout. The person who kept going for two years despite being rejected and gossiped left and right.

You shrugged, sitting up on the bed. “I was like, 11 years old. What do you want me to do, Huang? Born to be the family disgrace.” you grinned proudly, wiggling your brows as you placed a hand under your chin to pose dramatically. “You shouldn’t be proud of that. Weird flex but okay,” Renjun sighed heavily, raising a bottle of coke to his lips.

You inhaled as you began to spill another memorable moment from your childhood.

If there was one thing you and Jaemin had in common, it was that you both have absolutely no shame when flaring your dramatics.

It was 5th grade, you assume, when you and Jaemin had your first indirect kiss. It was a disturbingly iconic moment for the two of you, considering years after the incident you two kept doing it as if it were a part of your daily routine. You were at that age where kids around you were starting to take notice bout the soulmate concept. Teachers began explaining how the soulmate system worked during science class, causing you to involuntarily look at Jaemin from time to time to catch his disgusted expressions.

Often, snickering at the boy sitting in front of you who was gagging and mimicking the teacher as she explains. Sticking his tongue out in disgust when they started explaining the left tattoo concept. Jaemin sighed heavily, his hand stretching out to grab the water bottle on his table. His finger raised to push the lid off with a small pop, drinking without hesitation.

Jaemin looked down as he closed the lid and his brows furrowed at the oh-so-familiar name label on the lid of said water bottle. Written on the pink label with a sailor moon picture on the side was Y/N L/N. Jaemin almost threw up when he turned to you slowly, making you look up from your notes to give him a questioning nod at his horrified expression.

The little boy raised the water bottle to show you your little sailor moon label, making you raise your brow questioningly, as if to say, ‘what’s wrong with my sailor moon label?’

Crud, he forgot you were using the same water bottles your parents got you when you were both shopping at the thrift store.

Your eyes widened in realization when Jaemin pointed at himself and your bottle, trying not to scream in terror and get a scolding from your strict science teacher. ‘Did you,’ you mouthed, pointing an accusitory finger at the boy sitting in distress in front of you. ‘Drink from my,’ you continued, using your other hand to point dramatically at yourself then to your bottle that was still in his hands. ’My bottle?’ you asked with wide terrified eyes.

Jaemin practically gulped nervously, nodding in response. You both took a moment just staring into each other’s terrified expression, before mouthing ‘what the heck?!’ or ‘oh crud’ repeatedly, as to not gain your teacher’s attention.’You drank from my water bottle, Jaemin?!’ you mouthed, rubbing your hands against your face in distress. ‘How am i suppose to drink now?’ you whined, facepalming now that Jaemin had placed your water bottle back on your desk.

‘How am I suppose to live now knowing your spit is basically in my body? ‘ Jaemin shudders in response, grabbing his throat with disgust laced across his face. ‘Gross, I have your germs in my mouth.’ he stuck his tongue out in disgust, fake gagging as you rolled your eyes.

Renjun just gave you an incredulous look, his mouth gaping open, trying to decide whether to laugh or shake his head profusely. “Gosh, you two were born to be so dramatic. Seriously, while other people are having a mental breakdown over doing algebra, you two were in the back of the class making lovey-dovey faces because you two had your first indirect kiss.” Renjun laughed, clapping his hands as he howled back in laughter.

You sat up and whined, smacking your best friend with the pillow you were hugging earlier, causing him to laugh even more.”Oh god, I wish I came here sooner to witness that.” he wheezed, dodging your hits with his forearms as you continued to smack him on the face, chanting “shut up, Huang!” repeatedly in shame.

“I couldn’t drink from that bottle for months! It was my favorite bottle, too! The fact that Jaemin brings that bottle to school everyday was just traumatizing for the both of us! Instant trauma,” you groaned, leaning back dramatically against the mattress. Renjun laughed, smacking you with a pillow. “How did that even happen?” he asked incredulously.

“Some kid decided it would be funny to switch our bottles.” you pouted, stretching your arms across the bed like a starfish. “Did you two do anything bout it?” Renjun asked, his brows raising in amusement, practically eating your hilarious story up like it was a tub of candy. You sighed, looking away for a moment before mumbling under your breath.

“Jaemin said we should’ve replace the water in his water bottle with tap water from the bathroom, but I didn’t want to risk the guy getting a tummy ache so I spat in his drink instead.“

Renjun howled with laughter, a hand coming to hold his stomach as he leaned his head back laughing. “Why would you- Oh my god, this is gold. I can’t-” he wheezed, tears lining his vision as his tummy started to ache from laughing so hard. “Shut up! I was like, nine years old at the time. At that exact moment I felt no remorse for my actions whatsoever but now that I said it, it makes me feel even worse!” you whine, your feet kicking Renjun off the bed.

He landed on your carpet floor with a loud thud, his laughter subsiding into giggles. “That’s the chaotic energy everyone in this generation wants to have, holy shit, why wasn’t this documented ? This could’ve gone down as one of the most iconic moments in history. Honestly, whoever that kid who switched your bottle was, he’s that hero that doesn’t even need a cape.” he jokes, sitting up to earn a death glare from you.

Oh, if looks could kill, right now.

“Whatever, you sadist. Enjoying your time as you watch me suffer in despair.” you swung your arm over your eyes dramatically, feeling the mattress sink, assuming that Renjun had climbed onto the bed once again. “Come on, tell me another one. I promise I won’t laugh,” Renjun raised his pinkie finger with a soft smile. You raised your brow at him with your lips in a frown, causing Renjun to shrug innocently, “too much.”

You inhaled, your mind delving deep into the loving memories you had with Jaemin throughout your life. Your heart clenched at the next story you were bout to tell, the memory making your heart wanting to reach out for his even more. “Well, there was this one time-”

Ninth grade. Senior year of middle school. The previous day, you danced under the rain as Jaemin watched you from under the bus stop, hiding for shelter as you jumped around the empty cold streets. The fresh smell of rain hitting your nostrils as water made your clothes clung to your skin. Unfortunately for you, the next day you immediately got sick with a fever.

Receiving countless of text messages saying either ‘I told you so’ or ‘lucky bitch, you get to miss our physics test’ from Jaemin. You were shivering under the layers of blankets and hoodies you were wearing, stirring awake every hour due to how cold or thirsty you felt, tossing and turning every now and then. You turned when you heard your bedroom door opening, wondering who it was considering both your parents were busy at work at this hour.

Your eyes widened to see Jaemin, a coat hanging over his arm as he closed the door, and a plastic bag filled with delicious warm soup that you could smell from a mile away. “I can’t believe you left me to suffer all alone in school, I swear you purposely didn’t listen to me because you didn’t want to do that boring test.” Jaemin whined, a pout evident on his lips.

“Nana!” you exclaimed in a giddish tone, making grabby hands at him. Jaemin chuckled as he walked closer to your bed, sitting on the corner of your bed beside you, leaning his back against the headboard. He lays his coat on the chair behind your study desk, putting the plastic bag of food on your lap when you sat up. “Eat up. The sooner you get better, the sooner I can hug you to death for leaving me today.” He jokes.

You smiled, opening the plastic container inside to smell the scrumptious soup inside. “Chicken noodle soup, your favourite.” he spoke in a soft tone, smiling lightly at you. You grinned, grabbing the plastic spoon that came with it. “What? No soda on the side?” you grinned cheekily, earning a soft pinch to your cheek by your best friend. “Don’t you dare make song references in front of me as if you didn’t listen to me bout dancing under the rain yesterday, look where it got you now.” he tuts, shaking his head in a motherly manner.

“Geez, sorry, mom.” you teased, beginning to consuming your soup. “You’re sweating a lot, that’s a good sign.” Jaemin pushed a strand of hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, the sudden action causing you to pause from your eating for a brief moment, before shrugging it off. “I’ll probably feel be back to normal in a day or two.” you shrugged, gulping down a spoon full of soup.

“You’re gonna need to change, take your hoodie off.” Jaemin exclaimed, pulling your almost finished soup away from you. You let out a loud, “huh?” in response, your eyes widening at his sudden statement, trying to see if he was joking but no, Jaemin was dead ass serious.

“Take your hoodie off.” Jaemin ordered. “Jaemin!” you exclaimed, pulling your blankets up to your chin, protecting yourself from him. “You’re not gona get any better with wet stinky clothes on you, Y/N.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, walking over to your closet to grab a really baggy shirt of yours, tossing the big fabric over your face. You sat up and pulled the shirt off of your face to see Jaemin strip the white hoodie he was wearing over his body.

Your eyes caught the black shirt he was wearing underneathe had tugged up along with his hoodie, exposing his toned stomach to prove the results of how much time he spent working out at the gym with Jeno recently.

You squeaked at the action, looking away with a small blush tinting your cheeks. “Jaemin, what are you-” you flushed, taking the risk of looking at Jaemin again with a flustered expression to see your best friend standing in front of you with his white hoodie clutched in his hands. “Change your clothes, you’re gonna get even more sick if you lay there with wet clothes. You ran out of hoodies, use mine, instead.” he spoke sternly.

“Jaemin, I don’t think that that’s really necessary-” you let out a small squeak when Jaemin’s face came close to yours, his hand laying on your forehead and the other laying on his own. “You’re fever’s getting even worse. Change clothes and finish your soup while I get a warm towel ready, Y/n” He spoke, turning to leave your room, shutting the door behind him, unaware of how red your face must’ve been at the sudden contact.

You felt your heart beat increase at the actions that had happen before you, Jaemin’s hoodie resting on your lap, his strong cologne filling your senses, causing you to flush red even more as you tugged your wet sweaty clothes off and changed into the shirt and hoodie Jaemin picked out for you. You bit your lip when you could practically feel his scent engulf your whole being, your face becoming more red.

Did he always smell this nice?

The fresh smell of cinnamon and comfort was the only thing you could say to describe the indescribable scent of your best friend. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of constantly wearing his hoodie, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted when Jaemin came into your room with a bucket filled with warm water and a towel in hand.

“Lay down, y/n” he ordered, sitting on the bed beside you as you sunk down on the bed, pulling your bed sheets up to your nose so he wouldn’t see how red your face is. Jaemin didn’t think much of it when he dipped the water in the warm water, squeezing the water out to leave the towel warm and soaked, laying the warm towel on your forehead.

“You really didn’t have to do this, you know.” you bit your lip, sighing at the contact of his fingertips grazing against your skin as he layed the towel gently on your forehead. “I know, but you’ll probably die here if I don’t,” he chuckles. dipping the towel again once it got cold, squeezing the water out before placing it back on your forehead. “Does that mean you care bout me, Na Jaemin?” you smirked. “That’s quite embarrassing.” you teased.

Jaemin rolled his eyes softly at you, pinching your cheeks before cooping your nose. “There’s nothing embarrassing for a guy to care for his girl.” he commented simply. It felt like an arrow of pure adoration had struck through your heart. Well, that comment backfired. Wait, what does he mean by ‘his girl’?

“I’m your girl?” you spoke after a moment of hesitation, feeling your heart race against your ribcage once again. Jaemin chuckled, flicking your forehead teasingly, “not like that, you cheeseball.” he grinned, booping your nose once again before removing the towel from your forehead.

“Get some sleep, I’ll be right here when you need me. That is, unless your parents kick me out for staying too long.” he giggles, carressing your hair with his calloused fingers. “They’ll never kick you out, you live literally next door, Nana.” you giggled, nuzzling against his touch. Jaemin chuckled, putting the towel into the bucket before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes widened at the sudden act of affection, causing Jaemin to grin shyly. “You just look adorable, right now.” he mumbles under his breath before standing up and walking towards the door. “Go to sleep! I’ll be watching TV if you need me!” Jaemin exclaimed before closing the door with a soft click.

I don’t know bout you, but you knew you couldn’t sleep after his sudden display of affection.

You didn’t even realize tears were slowly streaming down your face until you let out a soft sob, Renjun’s figure coming close to comfort you. You felt Renjun’s arm wrap around your back, his hand coming up to your head to lean it against his shoulder. You sniffled, trying to swallow the sob that’s waiting to erupt from your mouth.

It was like day one all over again, with you crying your eyes out and Renjun comforting you by your side with food and movies. You shut your eyes tight once you felt that familiar burning sensation on your wrist, your heart aching and stinging against your chest. Renjun noticed your pained expression, his hand quickly yet gently coming up to see your left wrist, his eyes widening at the sight. “I’ll get you an ice pack, okay?” Renjun asked worriedly, carressing your soulmate mark as if it would soothe the burning sensation.

You nodded, crying even more as Renjun quickly bolted out your room, his footsteps echoing down the halls. You sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away with your palms, but like an endless waterfall, it never stopped. Nor did the pain in your heart.

Renjun came back with a sympathetic expression plastered on his face, coming up to you and gently placing the frozen packet of peas he found in your freezer on your glowing red tattoo. Renjun softly shushing you and caressing the back of your hair, his own heart aching to see his best friend like this. He couldn’t count the many times you had cried to him bout Jaemin since the dinner with your parents.

The countless amount of times he would press a cold surface onto your left burning wrist.

The countless times you would rant how your heart was begging for Jaemin’s stupid presence.

The countless times he wanted to punch Jaemin for not showing a single ounce of guilt and for how oblivious the younger boy is to how much he had been inflicting your pain.

You fell asleep in Renjun’s hold, the pain on your wrist subsiding into a dull ache, your heart beat in your ears.

Jaemin practically dragged his bag on the floor as he entered the room. His mood decreasing as the seconds go by, his eyes dark with exhaustion and pain. Lately, he hasn’t been focusing properly on the tasks in front of him, his mind was always somewhere else when Coach was discussing strategies for next week’s game.

He was always spacing out to the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, his eyes setting on a certain object in the corner of the room he was in, his body freezing in place as his whole head was in a haze. He’s gotten a countless amount of scolding for spacing out in the middle of practice, the endless amount of times Coach would get a student to hold a volley ball from the storage closet, ready to hit him with whenever he spaces out during practice matches.

Today, he was on his breaking point, he recently failed his History test, then got another scolding from Coach. Hell, he was called to the office in the middle of class, the Coach’s heavy frown never bringing ease to his now tense figure.

Jaemin collapsed on his bed with a soft thud, trying to keep his breath under control as his Coach’s words echoed in his head, his head buried into the soft fabric of his pillow. He tried to keep his mind from overthinking Coach Kim’s words adding into his stress.

“Na Jaemin, recently, I’ve become aware of how much you’ve been a little... distracted, lately. I’m sorry to say but as Captain of the whole team, you need to be on full focus for the game. If you can’t do that then I’m afraid someone else will.”

Jaemin gripped his pillow tightly, his breathing deepen as he tries to calm himself, his heart beat increasing. He squeezed his eyes tight, the look of disappointment in his team’s expression was all he could think bout for the rest of the day. His heart feeling heavy in his chest.

“I know, I know, this seems too far but, we can’t afford to lose the school winning streak all because of our captain spacing out because of who knows what! I know I sound delirious for saying this, but we can’t risk this.”

Jaemin remembered the heavy feeling of promising his Coach that he will get his problems sorted out right away so it wouldn’t interfere in the way of winning the game. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if the endless hard work he puts into playing football the past two years went to waste when the position he trained so hard to earn was taken away just like that.

Jaemin sniffled, sitting up as he tries to shake those thoughts away. His eyes blurring slightly at his Coach’s words repeating themselves inside of his head. He stood up, stretching his arms out to release the tension in his muscles, as he tries to delve into a more positive state of mind. His eyes closing in concentration.

‘Don’t think so negatively, Jaemin. You can do this, just stay focused at the task at hand and worry bout this weird pain after the game.’

Jaemin unconsciously walked towards his window, an exhausted groan eliciting from his mouth. ‘You’ve got this !’ he thought with determination, calming his thoughts as a content smile stretched across his face. Jaemin opened his eyes slowly, his bunny smile immediately dissipated into a deep frown, his eyes widen slightly at the sight from the window across his.

You were with Renjun on your bed, doing what looks like cuddling in each other’s warm embrace. You were sitting in between Renjun’s legs, your back facing Jaemin, making him unable to see your expression. Your head was leaning against Renjun’s shoulder, his hand coming up to caress the back of your head. Jaemin’s eyes never left your figure being in such an intimate position with Renjun.

Jaemin felt his own blood boiling, his previously sour mood returning in an instant, his heart beating in his ears as his eyes stared daggers into Renjun’s head. He watched as Renjun’s eyes gaze contently to your figure laying comfortably on his, his fists clenching even more at the sight. That is, until Jaemin snapped out of it with a shake of his head.

What was wrong with him?

Why was he feeling so angry bout seeing you cuddling with someone like that?

Yet again, when was the last time you cuddled him like that. Jaemin pulled his curtains to cover the sight across him, walking to the bed, running a hand through his hair. before leaning back to lay down on his mattress with his back facing his white sheets.

Jaemin sighed as he got lost in his own thoughts once again. When was the last time he cuddled you? Or held your hand? His head turned to the side, eyes scanning the picture frames he hung up on the walls of his room, stopping at the picture you took on your trip to Busan during winter back in 7th grade.

In the picture, you had Jaemin wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. Your smile wide and your expression filled with laughter as Jaemin's happy one focused on the camera. Your eyes weren't on the camera, though, they were on him.

Cheeks and noses warm and red from the cold snow, clothes stained with the snow you played with to make snow angels and snowmen, your smile so wide, Jaemin could almost hear your bright laughter from the picture itself. As if he was reliving in that exact moment.

When did you stop smiling like that?

Jaemin realised he never noticed how forced your smiles became, how you use humor to mask every single emotion, how no matter how tired you are, you always manage to joke bout the littlest things to make him crack a smile.

"Why are you sad?" Jaemin asked as he drove you home one day, you glanced up at him with exhaustion glossing over your pupils, showing how pained you were for a split second, before you crack into a loving eye smile.

"I'm not sad, silly. I'm just tired of Mrs. Lee getting up in my ass yelling at my ear as if she was begging for my head to explode and have blood erupting out of my neck like a distorted volcano pms-ing." you joked, causing Jaemin to let out a soft laugh.

"You have the weirdest thoughts, I swear." he shook his head, his eyes glancing at you for a split second before returning to the road. "You're not normal yourself, Nana. We're all clowns in this generation, don't act like its a weird thing." you laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly.

Jaemin raised his brow at you, "me? A clown? You're practically born in a circus." he chuckled. "Says the person who says 'wow' every five seconds for the simplest of things. Post Malone basically wrote that song off of you, you should sue." you giggled, causing him to giggle.

"I am praying to God so that he could add at least add more braincells into that silly head of yours." Jaemin laughed. "God made me to be a clown, I must live on with my purpose, Nana." you added with a wink. "And a simp, too." you giggled.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at the memory, smiling at your terrible attempt at flirting. But his smile turned into a concerned expression once he remembers how pained your eyes looked at the time. As if you were holding pent up frustration, pain and emotion behind the humor.

Since when did you try to hide everything with humor? And when did he start to be one of those people who believed that you were okay behind that bright exterior? He was your soulmate for-

Wait, a second. Your soulmate? Why was he addressing himself like this? So what if he's your soulmate? It doesn't give him the right to barge into your personal problems. You didn't want to do anything with him after that dinner party, so why would he bother to think bout you when you were probably moving on with Renjun?

Jaemin licked his lips bitterly, his brows furrowed in frustration. A hand coming up to rub his face in distress, what was wrong with him these days?

Jaemin's thoughts went to how your body slumped weakly in Renjun's embrace, his eyes glancing down at your figure in a protective manner, his hand caressing your soft hair to soothe and comfort you. Jaemin knew how this would lull you to sleep in an instant, send you in a cuddly haze in people's arms.

Why did he know this?

Because he was the first one to experience it first hand, why should Renjun experience such an endearing moment? Why should Renjun see how vulnerable you are when it comes to-

Jaemin winced as the familiar pain in his chest resurfaced, his wrist aching again. He closed his eyes, 'not this again,' he thought to himself. Jaemin leaned over his drawer, his heart aching heavily against his chest as he opened the drawer to pull out a couple of pain killers

Tags: @lixseu @morks-watermelon @cherrystay @candiednickles @12am-musings @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @d-nghyck @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta

Couldn't tag: @/uncovermenow666 @/cakelyn

#nct x reader #nct angst #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #na jaemin #nct #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct x you #nct x y/n #nct x oc

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taeguboi · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Crush On You: Truth or Dare [Jin version]

I decided to make another series to keep myself occupied with as I also make my other series ‘a care package to you’

This one is a mixed sleepover with the boys and some of your girl friends in which [member’s name] has a crush on you.

I seem to keep starting with Jin hahah oops oh well

Crush On You: RM // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

Care Package To You: RM // Jin // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

New Fiction Masterlist here

The initial scenario

Tonight had been planned for ages. You, all your girl friends and the boys. Everyone had been so busy lately with their heavy schedules of work, studying, the lot and everyone agreed that on the next night they were all available, you’d have a sleepover at one of your friend’s shared student houses (which was to be free with it being the holidays,) just like old times and to take time out from your young adult lives.

For some reason, you were never too old to be playing the classic game of truth or dare. In the spacious living room, already in your pyjamas, the group of you sat in a wide circle, some on the floor, some on the sofa, and sleeping bags were scattered everywhere. Many drinks had been consumed and now a space in the middle had been cleared for one of your empty bottles.

One of your friends spins the bottle and you all watch to see who it chooses….

Dare

“Alright, Seokjin-hyung…” begins Jungkook as the bottle spins to the eldest boy’s direction. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare” replies Seokjin.

“I dare you… to kiss y/n” says Jungkook, knowing something that the rest of you don’t.

A while ago, Jin had accidentally let it slip out to Jungkook when the former had had a few to drink after the two were at the end of a night out with you and y/f/n.

They had just seen that the two of you got to your door safely from the taxi and throwing themselves back into the taxi, Jin started acting a bit what Jungkook thought as odd.

“She’s a good un’ that one” began Jin.

“Who? Y/f/n?” asked Kook.

“What? No, I mean Y/n” slurred Jin.

“So you’re saying y/f/n isn’t a, quote, ‘good un’’?” chuckled the younger.

“You… you know what I meant” sighed Jin, feeling rather sleepy sat on the taxi seat, his head wobbling with the bumps of the road.

“I suppose… So did something happen back there? I mean for you to be talking about specifically y/n like this…”

“I wish!” boomed a drunken Jin then becoming aware of the volume of his voice. Jin cleared his throat, opened his eyes, sat up and started again. “What I meant to say is… she’s… nice… you know….”

“Oh my goodness, Seokjin! You have a thing for y/n….” replied Jungkook only to be interrupted by a prolonged -

“SHHH!”

Ever since this little admission, Jungkook - only very occasionally - would tease his hyung. Whilst he kept it to himself, Jungkook would often startle Jin by the things he said, often putting the elder on edge that his big secret would get revealed.

At first Jin tried to laugh it off like ‘I was drunk’ and ‘I didn’t know what I was saying…’ but Kook knew better; he had always believed that a drunk mind spoke a sober mind and that when his friend was trying to laugh it off, there wasn’t an ounce of truth in his eyes whenever he tried to say he didn’t like you as more than a friend.

Back to the game, Jin could feel his heart flutter; he had always wanted to kiss you ever since he realised his feelings for you, but now it was actually going to happen, he had a sudden urge to make his excuses and leave the room. But he didn’t.

“Uh…” is all he can nervously say. “So, how do you, like, want to do this?” he asks you awkwardly, rubbing his neck.

Now this causes most of the group to laugh out loud. Not in a horrible way; Seokjin had kissed many girls and the group had him down as quite the expert on the subject… why was he being so shy now?

“Oh come on Jin, really?” laughs one of your friends, unable to believe what she just heard.

“Hey!” he exclaimed defensively. “I was trying to be polite!” he continues folding his arms.

You can’t help but join in with a small giggle because bless him, but then you interrupt the laughter.

“Okay, thank you Seokjinnie for being so considerate” you smile, nodding excessively to prompt the noise to quiet down. You stand up and walk over to him and sit next to him as Taehyung who is sitting next to him shuffles over to make space.

The next thing Jin knows, you’re already initiating the kiss. Whilst he can hear a few of your friends going “wahey!” and all the rest, he suddenly feels like this whole sleep over is some sort of dream because of how surreal this feels.

But now he’s a little worried. Even whilst kissing you, all of his initial worries run through his mind but even more exaggerated. What if this makes the friendship weird? What if he acts weird? Are you even enjoying this? What if the look in his eyes after you kiss him gives everything away about his feelings?

Although all this runs through his mind, he actually manages to keep his cool because what you see and feel is a completely different story. You wouldn’t even guess that he is feeling flustered; no shaking, no general awkwardness, nothing like that.

Afterwards, Jin does his best not to overthink any of what just happened. After all, that wouldn’t be good for his brain, and after all… it was probably nothing to you.

Truth

This part is much longer than the dare lmao I’m sorry

It’s a few hours after the game of truth or dare and most of your friends have dozed off now, asleep in their sleeping bags or passed out on the sofa from staying up so late. Jin however, couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. It was only a dare kiss, so why was it everything he imagined?

You’re still sitting next to your friend Seokjin and you found you were having trouble sleeping after trying to at least doze off. Maybe it was the hard floor that made it difficult or the sudden shiver down your spine that made you feel chilly since 15 minutes ago… maybe it was something else.

You get up to pour a glass of water, hoping that someone else might be awake and show that they acknowledge you are, but there isn’t much response as you return to you sleeping bag - apart from a movement from Jin’s sleeping bag.

“Hey, ‘Jin?” you whisper, causing him to shuffle again. “Are you still awake” you ask in an even quieter voice.

“I’m awake” he replies, turning over to see you, eyes squinting a bit at the light still on in the room. He must have had his eyes shut longer than he thought despite not actually falling asleep.

“I can’t sleep” you tell him.

“Me neither”

“You wanna talk or something?” you ask unknowingly simply holding that glass of water… okay it was a beer, you got a beer instead.

Talk? You want to talk? About what? Inside, he panics a little, yet on the outside he manages to calmly reply “sure” as he sits up.

The two of you spend the next hour or so talking the night away about everything and anything. How this was a nice catching up session amongst your group of friends, stuff about your jobs and studies, how drunk Jimin got tonight and the antics he got up to, the latest episode of a tv series you both like.... How tonight was fun....

“You know what?” you say, grabbing your beer bottled which was emptied a good half hour ago now. “Let’s continue the game of truth or dare...”

“But everyone’s asleep y/n; there aren’t exactly many dares we could do that wouldn’t wake them up...”

“Well y/f/n seems to have fallen asleep with her phone in her hand, unlocked...” you joke

“Y/n!” exclaims Jin through his teeth “We’re not sending fake messages from our friends to their mums” he laughs softly.

“Okay, okay...” you sigh, a little disappointed despite your idea being in jest. “How about we take in turns, just truths?”

“Alright then” replies Jin, no idea how he’s managing to keep his cool, though he can feel his cheeks heating up a little.

“Would you rather...”

“I thought this was turth or dare?” he asks. “Well, truth or truth” he corrects himself.

“Well... you will have to answer truthfully” you reply, bringing a small smile smile to his face. “Would you rather be the funniest person in the room or... the most intelligent?”

Before he answers, Jin involuntarily has a quick something of a reality check. You’re talking normally to him, he can talk normally to you. He can and will just talk to you as a friend and not worry about this. He will just be himself.

“Aren’t they really one in the same?” he asks puzzling you a little.

“Are they?” you question.

“Yeah, to be funny, you have to have some intelligence, right?”

“What about slapstick comedy?” you fire back at him.

“What about the fact that I am already both of those things and therefore I don’t need to choose?” he jokes, placing the back of a hand under his chin to pose.

“Modest!” you chuckle. “Alright I’ll leave the ‘would you rather’ thing for another time... Let’s see...” you hum trying to think of a question, and then you can’t help but wonder about earlier. You aren’t sure why this thought comes to you but you kind of wanna know...

“How was earlier for you?” you blurt out, mouth acting ahead of your mind.

“Shh!” he hushes you, not unsimiliar to the way the hushed Jungkook in car that night.

“Sorry” you whisper apologetically, hand over your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry, sorry it was just a bit loud and it might have woken the others... Uh what I meant to say was....”

And then Jin stops again and his mind has another sort of reality check / epiphany; this is silly. He’s a grown man and he’s been living in this carry on of never talling you or even showing you how he feels, keeping it all inside, hung up on someone who might not even like him back in that way... is this one of those ‘now or never’ situations??

He hadn’t noticed how long he had paused for until you took him away from his thoughts by saying “Jin? Seokjinnie..??? Seokjin Kim..??” You wave a hand in front of his face, wondering if you can get him out of his trance. Is he just tired, or...?

“Sorry” he apologises again, gently moving your hand away from in front of his face and resting it down, leaving his hand on top of yours.

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” he asks you.

In return, you give him a confused expression; what did he mean by that?

“Sorry, I’m royally fucking this up” he apologises - again.

“Okay, firstly just stop saying sorry” you nervously laugh because again, bless him.

“Okay, sorry” he replies making the both of you laugh quietly again.

“What’s up?” you ask

‘Right. Now or never’ he reminds himself internally and again, his thoughts put him on a delay and leave another silent patch.

“Please just answer the question” you plead as you start to worry if it was actually that bad for him that he doesn’t know how to tell you.

“Okay, it’s like this” replies Jin with a sigh to prepare himself to answer the question truthfull just as you had asked.

“Oh God, you hated it didn’t you?” you mumble with dread.

“No!”

“Shh!” you hush, mirroring the way Jin had just hushed you.

“So when you said did I enjoy earlier, you meant...”

“Yes, the kiss!” you quietly exclaim, getting impatient for the answer.

“And you’re sure it didn’t weird out our friendship?” he asks, still beating around the bush. However, he quits stalling upon seeing the unimpressed expression on your face. “Right... here goes... That kiss... that kiss felt... amazing” he admits, finally.

“Phew!” you sigh with relief.

“I believe it’s your turn for our little game of truth or truth, so... I’d like to ask you the same question: How was earlier for you?”

“I... liked it too”

“Only ‘liked’ it?” he challanges with a smile. “Maybe I need to remind you of how earlier was for you...”

“Maybe you do” you smirk, almost mischeivous in the way you smile back at him.

“Maybe I do” he smirks back, hand hovering over your cheek.

You guide Jin’s hand to stay cupping your face, and you both lean in for first a quick kiss, then another short kiss, followed by grins on your faces, followed by more kissing...

...followed by one of your friends waking up. It’s Jungkook.

“Oh my god! Yes!” he blares excitedly. “Guys! Wake up! It’s finally happening!”

*******

Crush On You: RM // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

Care Package To You: RM // Jin // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

98 notes · View notes

m0etenchandon · 6 years ago

Text

Touched for the very first time (Virgin!Reader x Ben smut)

Pairing: Reader x Ben Hardy Summary: Based on a request. You are moving to study in London and childhood friend Ben opens his flat for you. You hadn´t seen him in a while and definitely hadn´t noticed how hot he has gotten. The fact that you´re a frustrated virgin doesn´t help. Ben to the rescue. Warnings: SMUT (18+), fluff, friends-to-lovers, virgin!Reader, masturbation, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (reader on birth control) A/N: This is my 1.5K followers celebration! Aah I´m so honored that you guys actually follow me and put up with my bullshit. Thank you, I love you all! Also, I´m very aware that this concept is heavily used, but here is my take on it. We can never get too much virgin reader stuff, right?

Word count: 5.3K

This is pure filth and you are not allowed to read it if you´re under 18. I will block you if I catch minors interacting with this story.

Masterlist

Gif by @bens-hardy

You hadn’t really believed your luck when Ben had asked you to move in with him. Not only did you get to live basically free while studying, but his apartment was huge. And on top of that you got to spend more time with your childhood friend. You had kept in touch over the years, but you hadn´t seen him in real life until you showed up at his front door, bags in hands. Seeing him almost took your breath away. That silly crush you had on him suddenly bursting back to life, your stomach stirring as you took him in. He was wearing a pair of grey joggers that definitely showed off his package and you felt heat rush to your face as you tore your eyes away. His torso was clad in a white t-shirt that fit his muscles perfectly. His muscles. Those definitely weren´t there when you were younger. Obviously, you had seen pictures of him online, but you never realized just how fit he was. Not to mention his gorgeous face which was lit up with a smile going all the way to his green eyes. Wow.

“Y/N”, Ben exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms felt warm around your body as you threw yours around his neck. God he even smelled fantastic. Manly.

“Wow you uh-, you look great”, you said, stuttering to form words. You really shouldn´t feel this flustered around one of your best friends.

“Oh, thank you. So do you! I love your dress”, he said. You could definitely see his eyes rake all over your body which didn´t help your situation. His stare lingered at the hem of your dress which to be fair was a bit short.

“Thank you. And again, thank you for letting me stay here. I don´t know what I could do to repay you”, you said.

“It´s my pleasure, Y/N. I can´t wait to have a roommate, it gets boring living here alone”, he smiled, helping you get your luggage through the door. You hadn´t brought that much actually since Ben had all the furniture and stuff, just your clothes and essentials.

“So no girlfriend then?”, you asked, testing the waters. It´s not like you would actually make a move on him, it was just a stupid crush, but you wanted to know if you would have to bring your noise cancelling headphones to bed or not.

“Nah, I´m enjoying the single life for now”, he said, picking up a bag and started walking down the hallway. Presumably to your bedroom, so you followed suit. “Why?”

“Just wondering if I´ll run into half naked models on my way to the bathroom you know”, you said, nudging his side. You always had a playful friendship, but you were lying if you said it didn´t sting just a little thinking about him with another girl.

“Don´t worry your pretty little head, Y/N. It´s been a while”, Ben said. If only he knew how long it had been for you.

“So this is your room, I´ll let you get sorted and then we can have dinner, yeah?”, he asked after opening one of the doors. The room was modern, but still cozy. There was a huge bed in the middle of it, and lots of closet space. Ben had previously told you to decorate however you liked, but you were pretty sure just a few pictures would do the trick to make it feel more like home.

“Thank you. Again”, you giggled, walking around the room. “Can I take a shower first?”

“Yeah, first door on your left”, Ben said with a smile tugging at his lips. “Feel free to use my soap until you have finished unpacking”

He turned on his heel and made his way down the hallway again. You couldn´t help but stare as he disappeared, his toned back stretching the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, you shouldn´t be thinking this. How were you supposed to live with Ben if all you could think of was fucking him? You hadn´t even had sex. Ever. And here you were thirsting after your childhood friend who had been kind enough to let you live for free in the middle of London. If it weren´t for the fact that Ben could definitely hear, you would have screamed at the top of your lungs in frustration. Instead, you pulled out a pair of fresh underwear, some shorts and a top form your suitcase and headed for the bathroom.

The shower was spacious, there was definitely room for two. Your imagination had a mind of its own and before you knew it you were picturing Ben in there with you, the water running down his naked body. Down his chest, over his abs, down to his hard-. Holy shit. You snapped out of it, closing your eyes and forcing yourself to imagine something – anything, other than Ben and his glory. It was no use though, the dull tingle between your legs kept reminding you. You placed your forehead against the cold tiles and groaned. Praying the shower would conceal your moans, you slid your hand down your stomach and towards your clit. You shuddered when the pressure was relieved, starting to rub fast and tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It didn´t take long before you came with a cry of his name. Of Ben´s name. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn´t even realize until it was too late. It was loud too so he could definitely hear if he wanted too. You felt your entire body tense up in embarrassment, your cheeks becoming unbelievably hot. Shit.

You quickly finished your shower, covering your entire body in the shower gel that smelt just like him. Washing away all your pleasure, searching your brain for an excuse in case he heard you. You would just have to say you were searching for something but found it before he could answer. Yep, that would have to do.

“Jesus how hot is the water you shower in? You look like you´ve just ran a marathon”, Ben said when you walked into the kitchen. He was busy cooking up some pasta but turned to take in your appearance.

“Oh, uhm- I was cold”, you mumbled, hoisting yourself up on the counter.

“Cold? In thirty-degree weather?”, Ben said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “You´re wearing shorts and you´re cold?”

He reached out to run his fingers along the material of your shorts, dangerously close to your heat. Your eyes were locked on his moves, your breath hitching in your throat. This wasn´t something friends did, right?

“Sorry”, he said after realizing just how inappropriate he was being. He coughed and went back to stirring the tomato sauce.

“So, how have you been since I last saw you? Still with whats-his-name?”, Ben asked. He refused to look at you, ignoring the sexual tension that was clearly thick in the air. This was going to be difficult.

“No, we only dated for a few months. He kept pushing me to do uhm - things I wasn´t comfortable with”, you said. He had broken up with you for not sleeping with him, but you didn´t want to tell Ben. It was embarrassing and you didn´t want him to think you were some innocent little girl.

“What? Anal?”, Ben asked, finally turning around and shooting you a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes, thankful the tension had lifted slightly.

“No, it was something else. I don´t want to talk about it”

“Come on”, he said, turning the stove off. Ben closed the distance between you, placing his arm on either side of your thighs. Effectively keeping you in place. His breath was hot on your exposed collarbones and you could feel chills flowing down your spine along with the tingle returning to your core.

“Tell me”, he said, looking up at you with those gorgeous green eyes.

“It´s embarrassing”, you said, trying to squirm out of his presence, but there was no use. Ben had you under his spell.

“I promise I won´t laugh”, Ben said, cocking his head slightly. You couldn´t help but let your eyes fall on his plump lips for a second, seeing his tongue slip out to wet them. “Please”

“Fine”, you sighed, unable to resist him and his pretty face, “He dumped me because I didn´t want to sleep with him”

“Really? What a dick”, Ben said, furrowing his eyebrows. “He doesn´t deserve to be with a girl like you”

And just like that, Ben pulled away and started plating the dinner. Did he just? What did that mean? A girl like you?

Your mind was racing throughout dinner and even during the next few days. Ben was definitely being friendly, but you couldn´t quite figure out if he was actually flirting or not. You had caught him starting a few times, but he quickly brushed it off. He even walked around shirtless sometimes, causing you to end the day with your hand down your panties, chasing your high while trying to stifle your moans.

It even led to you avoiding him, opting to spend your evening in bed watching Netflix instead of hanging out in the living room. This night was one of those. Well at least until there was a knock on the door followed by Ben poking his head out from behind it.

“Can I come in?”, he asked, taking in your half-naked figure. You were only wearing an old t-shirt and panties, which he had definitely noticed. You scrambled to cover your bottom half before nodding.

“What´s up?”, you asked, pausing the episode of Queer Eye you were watching.

Ben opened the door fully, revealing his body covered only by a pair of joggers. Those same ones that left very little to the imagination. That combined with him being shirtless had you wet in an instant. That familiar tingle creeping back.

“`M just bored”, Ben said, throwing himself face down on the bed next to you. “Are you ready for freshers week?”

“I don´t know”, you said. Honestly, you were dreading it. You knew it was filled with booze and sex and you would still be a virgin. It was difficult. You didn´t want your first time to be with some random stranger, but you were beginning to just want it over with it.

“Come on, you´ll have the best of times! There´s lots of alcohol and you get to have as much sex as you want without anyone judging you. It´s great”, he said, nudging your side.

“I´m not that uhm- experienced, so I just find it awkward”, you admitted.

“Are you a virgin?”, Ben asked, causing you to almost choke on your breath. Your eyes went wide as you stammered for a response.

“W-what?”

“It´s just a question, Y/N. I´m not going to judge you”, he said, shooting you an honest smile.

“I-uhm, yes”, you said, “I can´t believe I´m telling you this but I am. That’s why my ex dumped me, I didn´t trust him enough to let him take my virginity. But it was a long time ago and now I´m just insecure that I´ll suck because I don´t know what to do with a guy. It stops me every time and I fuck- I just want it over with”

Ben looked like he was at a loss of words, his eyes locked on yours. Which only made you feel even more embarrassed.

“I could help you”, he finally said after a while, his voice low.

“What? Set me up with one of your mates or something?

“I could do that, or I could do it myself”, Ben suggested. A flush was creeping onto his cheeks as he put himself out there in front of you. It was a tempting offer, a very tempting offer.

“Uhm, yeah I´d like that”, you said, your eyes falling on his lips. It couldn´t hurt, right? You trusted him, and obviously you found him ridiculously hot. It was completely fine. Right?

“Ok good”, Ben said, “Uhm, what do you want to learn?”

“How to give a blowjob I guess. And sex of course”, you said. Your pulse was racing. This was actually happening. The ache between your legs grew significantly when you saw Ben let out a nervous chuckle.

“I can do that”, he said, turning around to lay on his back instead. “Just uhm- come here”

You pulled the duvet back before moving over to him. You settled yourself on his lower thighs and looked down on him. Ben´s eyes were trained on your lower half where only a pair of lace panties were covering your heat.

“Shit ok this is actually happening”, he said with a laugh, running his hands through his hair.

You tapped your fingers against his thighs to get him to focus his attention back at telling you what to do. As much as you loved having him watch you with hungry eyes, you wanted to move on.

“Sorry, you just look so hot like this. Start by kissing my lower stomach”, Ben said, taking in a harsh breath when you did just that. You pressed your lips to one of his abs, feeling his warm skin. You looked up at him to gauge his expression as you moved further down. Letting your lips trail over the patch of hair leading into his joggers.

“Your lips are so soft”, he mumbled, eyes blown wide with lust. You could see his bulge grow in size as you moved. You kissed the skin just above the waist band of his joggers, hearing Ben hiss.

“Ok enough of that. Press you palm against my crotch”, he instructed. You pulled your face back a bit and did what you were told. A gasp left your mouth when you felt how hard he was underneath your hand. You could feel the warmth through the material of his joggers, feeling him twitch. Grow. The soft moans that left Ben´s mouth turned you on like crazy. The whole scenario hot. You had imagined this happening so many times by now, it almost felt unreal.

“Fu-fuck that feels good”, Ben moaned, biting down on his lips. You could tell he was struggling to hold back so you could learn, which only turned you on more.

“You´re so hard”, you mumbled, moving your palm over his bulge. Ben bucked into your touch.

“I am, just for fuck- just for you, Y/N”, he said, “Go ahead and pull my joggers down. Boxers too”

Ben whined when you stopped pushing down on his bulge even though he was the one telling you what to do. It made you feel empowered knowing how much pleasure you were bringing him.

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his joggers and pulled them down his thighs along with his boxers. Enough to free his cock but not all the way off. You slowly let your eyes drift up to his shaft. Your thighs clenched together around his legs at the sight. You had imagined what it would look like so many times, but never did you think you would actually be face to face with it. Ben´s cock was thick and heavy where it laid against his stomach. He was bigger than you thought, and you wondered how the hell you were going to fit that inside.

“Do you like what you see?”, Ben teased, tensing so it would jump and twitch in front of you. “Wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze. You can´t really go wrong”

You nodded and reached a shaky hand out. It felt odd to have him in your grasp. You could feel the blood pump through his cock. The soft skin combined with how hard he felt.

You slowly started to slide your hand to the base, pulling back the foreskin. The head was red and glistening with pre-cum.

“That´s it. Fuck you´re a natural, love”

Ben called you love often, but it hit different when you had your hand wrapped around his cock. Your heart fluttering. It somehow made you more confident. You started sliding your hand up and down his shaft, enjoying watching his face scrunch up in pleasure and his chest rise and fall with how heavy he was breathing.

“Try placing a kiss to the head”, Ben instructed. He needed you to get on with it so he didn´t cum before actually teaching you how to give head.

You leant down and pressed your lips to the slit, feeling the bead of pre-cum coat your lips. It was salty, but didn´t necessarily taste bad. You liked it. So, you pressed another kiss to the head, this time on the string that was just underneath. This made Ben yelp in pleasure, his hand coming down to grab onto your hair.

“Shit shit shit I´m going to have to speed this up or I´m going to cum before we even get started”, he said, his cheeks red with excitement. You smiled to yourself at how worked up he was.

“Wrap your lips around me and suck. Literally anything feels good, just don´t use your teeth and you´re good”

You nodded before sliding your lips over his glistening head. It felt even warmer in your mouth, and you moaned at the sensation.

“Bloody hell that´s amazing. Just like that. Try sliding down a little further”, Ben moaned, his hand lightly pushing your head down. Your relaxed your mouth and did what you were told. You kept your teeth behind your lips and slowly started bobbing your head up and down. By the noises Ben was making you could tell he was really enjoying it, and you certainly did too. Your panties growing damper by the second.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before? You´re so fucking good, Y/N”, he said. His fingers were tugging at your hair, only encouraging you to go faster. “Work the rest with your hand”

You looked up at Ben and hummed around him, reaching up to wrap your hand around his base. You jerked him off with the same pace you were bobbing your head and you could tell Ben was quickly losing it. He was struggling to keep his hips still as you took him into your warm, wet mouth. His moaning getting louder and louder.

“Shit I´m going- god, I´m going to cum, Y/N”, Ben whined, heaving for air. His hand tugging harder at your hair. “You have to stop if you don´t want me to”

“Can you go again if you cum now?”, you asked, pulling your mouth off of his cock. Still jerking him off with your hand. Ben nodded, eager to get his release.

“Ok, I want to know what it feels like to have you cum in my mouth”, you said. You wrapped your lips around his head again, working his shaft with determination.

“You´ll be the absolute death of me, love”, he said, thrusting his hips ever so slightly to meet your mouth. “I´m s-so close”

You sucked even harder, feeling several drops of pre-cum coat your mouth.

“`m gonna cum, `m gonna fucking cum, Y/N”, Ben groaned, grabbing your head and stilling your movements as hot ropes of cum shot out of his cock. You continued working his shaft, squeezing out all he had to offer. It tasted quite similar to his pre-cum, but maybe a little bit sweeter. Definitely something you could get used to.

Ben pulled you off him when he came down, panting and trying to catch his breath.

“I don´t think you´ll have to be shy about your blowjob abilities because that was fucking amazing”, he said, watching you open your mouth and show him his load. The sight made Ben´s softening cock twitch in defeat.

“Fucking hell. Do you want to swallow it for me?”, Ben asked. You nodded, closing your mouth and swallowing it. The liquid slid down your throat, warming your insides.

“It tastes weird”, you said once you were done, a giggle escaping your mouth. You had really just sucked Ben off and on top of that swallowed his cum.

“I know, I know. I didn´t exactly expect this to happen so I didn´t prepare”

“What do you mean?”, you asked, genuinely confused.

“If I ate stuff like pineapple it would taste better, sweeter”, he said, coking his head with a smile. “You´re so innocent, Y/N”

“Well this innocent girl wants you to fuck her”, you said, moving up his legs. You placed your heat over his cock, grinding your clothed pussy over him.

“Shit ok first of all, I need two minutes. Second, we need to get you ready for me first”, he said, flipping you over so he was hovering over you. He pulled his joggers and boxers all the way off.

“Can I take your shirt off?”, Ben asked, reaching out to toy with the hem of it.

“I just sucked you off, I´m pretty sure we´re beyond this, Ben”, you giggled, lifting your arms. Ben chuckled before pulling it off your body. His eyes fell on your exposed chest, the green turning even darker.

“No bra, what a tease you are, love”, he mumbled. Leaning down, he pressed his soft lips to the soft curve of your breast. His hair tickled your sensitive skin, goosebumps forming underneath his touch.

“Tell me if you ever want me to stop, ok?”, Ben said, looking up at you to see you nod before continuing. He wrapped his lips around your left nipple, taking it into his mouth and swirling his wet tongue around it. You arched into his touch, feeling the tingle between your legs increase. Ben certainly knew what he was doing, how crazy he was driving you.

“Show me how you get yourself off”, he said, pulling away and sitting back on his knees.

“W-what?”, you asked, suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“I heard you in the shower the first day you were here you know, and sometimes at night when you think I´ve gone to bed I can hear your pretty little moans”, Ben teased, winking.

You were absolutely mortified. Somehow him hearing you and knowing that you thought of him were worse than actually having sex.

“Oh come on don´t go all shy on me now. I know you want me, and you have no idea how much I want you too. I´ve had a crush on you for ages. Was just looking for a perfect occasion to bring it up without it being awkward”, he said.

“And you thought that this was it? Me lying here almost naked and you telling me to masturbate in front of you?”, you asked, fighting off your instinct to just melt into the mattress. You wanted him, and it was admittedly quite hot knowing he could actually hear you. Oh and the fact that he liked you back. That was also good.

“Mhm. I want to see what makes you moan my name while you cum”, Ben teased, nudging your leg.

“Fine”, you mumbled, reaching down to pull your panties down your legs. Ben watched you like a hawk as you spread your legs, your glistening pussy finally exposed to him.

You slid your hand down to your clit, just like you always did. Your eyes closed on instinct for a few seconds as you finally got some much-needed friction, a relieved sigh leaving your mouth when you started rubbing tight fast circles. The knot in your stomach was building slowly but steadily. Something about the fact that Ben was right beside you, watching, getting you all riled up.

“Fuck that´s hot”, Ben mumbled, shifting so he could get a better view. He placed a hand on your thigh to keep your legs spread. “Do you ever finger yourself?”

“Not really, it´s a weird angle”, you said, speeding up your movements. Desperate for a release.

“Can I?”, he asked, sliding his hand down the inside of your thigh. You whined and arched into his touch.

“Please, Ben”

“So needy, love”, he teased. His fingers brushed against your own as he collected some of your wetness, sliding his fingers through your folds. It felt ten times better to have someone else do it, especially when that someone else was Ben in all his nude glory, cock hardening again as he slowly pressed a finger inside your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation, clamping your walls down on his digit as he started pumping it in and out. He curled it to press against your front wall, making stars cloud your vision.

“You´re so wet and tight for me, love. Can´t wait to have my cock inside your pussy”, Ben mumbled, pressing another finger inside. He worked them at a torturously slow pace, rubbing against that spot just inside with every thrust. Your fingers were still rubbing your clit and you were sure you were about to cum.

“Are you close, Y/N?”, Ben asked, speeding up his fingers. You nodded, throwing your head back in pleasure as you rested right on the edge. Ben apparently didn´t want you to cum, because he pushed your hand away from your clit, causing you to look up him with a pout.

“Oh don´t pout those pretty lips, it will feel much better if you wait”, he said, moving over to settle between your legs. He wrapped a hand around his cock and gave himself a few pumps. “Want you to cum around my cock instead”

“A-are you clean? I´m on the pill so you don´t have to wear a condom if you don´t want to”, you said, nervously looking up at him. You´ve heard from your friends how much better it feels for both parties without condoms.

“Yeah? I tested myself a few weeks ago and I haven´t slept with anyone since”, Ben said. He slid his cock through your folds, a smirk forming on his lips as you moaned when he brushed against your sensitive clit. “Are you clean?”, he mocked.

“Fuck off you kno- oh my fucking god”, you moaned, feeling his cock press against your entrance before Ben slowly started sliding in. He placed his hands on either side of your body to steady himself as he watched his cock disappear into your heat. It stung but it didn´t necessarily hurt. A wave of pleasure hitting you and mixing with the discomfort.

“Fucking hell you´re tight. Are you okay?”, he asked once he had bottomed you out. Ben stopped his movements to let you adjust to his length, cursing whenever you would clench around him. You had your eyes squeezed shut, your chest rising and falling as you tried to relax. It felt really good, his cock stretching you in a delicious way.

“Y-Yeah”, you said, opening your eyes to look at him. Ben´s face was furrowed in concentration, short breaths of hot air leaving his mouth.

“Can I move?”, Ben questioned, letting out a sigh of relief as you nodded. “Let me know if you want to stop or if you need a break”

It was definitely worse when he started moving, but still bearable. Ben went slow, his cock dragging against your walls as he thrusted in and out. His eyes trained on yours to check you were doing fine.

“Does it hurt?”, he asked, picking his pace up just a little.

“A bit”, you admitted. Ben shifted his hips slightly, the tip of his cock nudging that spot on your front wall. Oh. That was better. You moaned and reached up to grab his forearm, pleasure taking over your body. “That´s better”

“Hmm, good”, Ben teased. He hooked your legs around his waist before dropping down to press his lips to your neck. He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, adding to your pleasure. The knot in your stomach tightened with his every move.

Ben sucked a hickey onto your neck at the same time he picked up the pace of his thrusts, causing you to scream out his name. You were getting closer and closer, and you could tell he was too. His breath hot on your neck.

“Do you think you can cum for me, love?”, Ben asked, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“Y-yeah, I´m close”, you whined, grinding down onto his cock. The action sent a wave of confidence through Ben´s body, his hips moving back and snapping against yours.

“Rub your clit for me, Y/N. I want to feel you cum around my cock”, he growled, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. It caught you off guard for a second before you realized what was happening. But when you kissed him back my god did you feel at home. It was like a missing piece of a puzzle finally sliding back into place.

Ben slid his tongue against your bottom lip, begging you to let him in. You opened your mouth the second you pressed your fingers against your neglected clit, moaning into his.

It was all too much. Your sweaty bodies moving against each other, the air hot and heavy with sex. His cock nudging your sweet spot, your fingers working your clit. You couldn´t hold back. You came with a cry of Ben´s name, just like you had that first day at his flat.

Wave after wave of pleasure shot through your body, even your fingertips flooding with pleasure. Your thighs were squeezing around Ben´s hips, your walls around his cock.

Ben came too, his hips stuttering upon feeling you clench around him. A warm sensation spread across your lower half as his cum coated your walls, the feeling prolonging your orgasm. You were on cloud nine. The orgasm lasted so long but far from long enough. You wanted more, but you were so fucked out and exhausted all you could do was melt completely into the mattress.

Ben pulled out of you with a curse, his eyes drifting down to watch his cum pool at your wet entrance.

“So”, you said trying to stifle a giggle, “I guess we just had sex”

Ben chuckled, laying down and pulling you into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head which caused the butterflies in your stomach to go into a frenzy. You couldn´t help but smile up at him.

“You´re so adorable, love”, he said, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, placing your hand on his cheek to deepen it. Your lips moving in perfect harmony.

“Wow you´re going to get me started again if you kiss me like that”, Ben said, pulling back with a giant grin.

“Sorry not sorry”, you smiled, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

“Jesus you´ll be the absolute death of me, love. I still have lots to show you, don´t want to do it all in one night”

“So this wasn´t just a one-off thing?”, you asked, holding your breath as you waited for his reply. You didn´t want it to be.

“I hope not, Y/N. I know we´re just friends, but I would very much like us to be more than that”, he said, reaching out to caress your cheek. You leant into his touch and smiled.

“I want that too, Ben”, you said, “Even though we´re kind of doing this in the wrong order”

“We can make it work, love”

“I´m sure”, you said, leaning up to kiss him again. God you would never get tired of the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

“So what other things do you want to teach me?”, you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. Ben let out a giggle.

“Come shower with me and you´ll find out”, he said with a wink. The shower definitely had room for two.

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

Text

Lady Lazarus|| Morgan, Deirdre, & Constance

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @deathduty & @mor-beck-more-problems & @constancecunningham

SUMMARY: The time for vengeance is now.

Morgan kept herself draped over Deirdre most of the day, even when they were shuffling between rooms and out to the yard to tend the garden and watch the cats play. Deirdre hadn’t been away for long, but long enough for Morgan to miss the pressure of her banshee’s body cocooned around her own, the feathery impression of her kisses, the sound of her voice and how it curled around her name and all her Gaelic endearments. At night she pulled her into bed and insisted on getting to hold Deirdre for a change, if only for an hour or two. “This, right here, is literally the only gift I really want,” she said, stroking her love’s hair. They were back on the Grey’s Anatomy wagon, although Morgan was more distracted from the story than usual, reaching down to walk her fingers along Deirdre’s freckles and scratch constellations between the ones that dusted her arms. “I missed you,” she said, not for the first time. “Thank you for coming back, my love.”

Outside, Constance watched Agnes’ descendant dote on her lover. She had been held that way too, once. She could remember the way a tender touch could burn, how a gaze could feel searingly bright, powerful enough than all the magic she’d held in her body. And it had all been a lie. Every hope she’d nurtured had been seeded with death, every wish, poisoned with mockery. At least where she had been before this place, she’d dwelled in the certainty that her pain would echo on with just vengeance as any true witch with the power would have willed it. But this new earth, this new Agnes with her flowers, her career, her friends, her precious love. Constance couldn’t even understand how she had survived the accident in the first place. She’d put her whole soul into it, exhausted herself into a mere wisp of energy in one blast. She had seen the blood and she’d seen the woman’s eyes close. She shouldn’t be here, reaping a life that had been stolen from Constance by her own kin. To look at her cradling the woman in her arms, you wouldn’t even know that she had suffered a day in her life. If it hadn’t been for her warning message and that flash of recognition in a window weeks ago, Constance was sure this new Agnes would have forgotten her as completely as the first Agnes had.

It wasn’t right. Nothing in this world was, but this, especially. She had paid the gods and the universe for better than this and she would not deign to be cheated again.

Constance had been practicing, she’d learned the tricks from older spirits, and now she was strong enough to avenge herself on her own without spending herself in full as before. And perhaps it would have always come out this way. Perhaps her spirits, her magic, would have always forsaken her as surely as everything else she’d touched and loved. Constance felt the bite of her sorrow welling up in her fragile spectre body. Shuddering against the tides of the new world, she reached out with it and pressed against the window glass.

With great clarity, Deirdre could remember every time she was separated from Morgan (all being entirely her doing in the first place), and each time they came back together---an entanglement of limbs, the din of kisses. They hadn’t been so far kept from each other since becoming a couple, and she thought of what great relief it was to share her affection and speak of her love...the awkward fumbling around aside (when did that rug get there? Did they always have that table so close?). The winding down to gentle moments shared in bed were her favorite, if only so she might recover from the day’s bruises running into furniture edges and door corners. And embarrassing as it was, she could bear being held if it was what Morgan wanted---and the woman who might have jumped from her arms hollering about boredom was long gone. This one was only a little flustered, and plagued terribly by the ever surmounting desire to hold Morgan. Deirdre embraced her role of being embraced soon enough and found the great benefit of being able to bury her face against Morgan’s chest. “Grey’s Anatomy is finally focusing on the anatomy aspect, isn’t it?” She grimaced, “ugh, no, I didn’t like that joke either. But it is better than the Morgan’s Anatomy one I tried.” Deirdre laughed, lifting her hand up to tap the old beat of Morgan’s heart---a tune she knew as well as the beat of her own---against her still chest. She might not have been able to love a life back where there ought to be one, but she found optimism that awoke in Morgan’s presence--and she might just imagine there was something more she could do. “I missed you too,” she smiled, “and I told you that you don’t have to thank me for that. There’s no place I’d rather be, no one I’d rather be with. I want you. I want to be here.” She shifted, leaning up to kiss Morgan and untangle herself from being held. “I lov---”

Deirdre snapped up--careful to keep close to Morgan, careful to hold her, even as she stood on alert. She could have sworn she heard glass crack, but the Grey’s Anatomy episode had moved into its scheduled monologue of the moment. Deirdre turned her head, a spine-wrenching chill consuming her body. She turned to Morgan, eyes black as the night beyond them. “I think I feel something here.” But she was having a smidge of trouble finding the source---Morgan’s body was, rightfully, very distracting.

Morgan felt it too, flinching at the sound of glass. The lamp on their end table was so dim, she couldn’t see farther than three feet past the bed, there was only the teal and orange cocoon of the lamp puddling with the TV around them. She squeezed Deirdre, anchoring them together. She’d just gotten her back from Ireland, she wasn’t going to lose her to more White Crest nonsense. Faintly, the glass made another tremulous sound, like it was quivering in the windowpane, struggling to get out. “That’s weird…” she admitted, squinting into the shadows. Then she saw it. Saw her. “No--” There were a lot of expletives on her tongue and twice as many warnings. Get down. It’s not safe. I fucked up. She told me she was coming and I fucked up. But as Morgan breathed the word, reaching to shove Deirdre down into their bed, hell burst into their room.

The TV flickered and groaned like it was going to be sick, the lightbulb in their lamp flared and burst, the windows crunched in on themselves in splattered spiderwebs of invisible pressure, and every piece of furniture Morgan had lovingly arranged rattled, drumming her fate as Constance flew towards them. Morgan launched herself out of bed and gasped as she felt herself caught by the hair on something and pushed. Morgan fell face forward, but in the flash of a moment before she hit the ground, she saw Constance’s grief-warped face go still with a look of horrified wonder that must have matched her own. The ghost’s grip had become solid as bone.

Deirdre knew Constance’s face well; once, it filled nightmares, more often, it was the centre of revenge fantasies. She often wondered what it’d be like to have a moment with the woman, where she’d put her hands when she ruptured her organs---but she was a ghost. She was supposed to be a ghost who couldn’t hurt them. It was strange, then, that her normal vision could track her, and she watched with clarity as the woman demonstrated a physicality that ghosts couldn’t, shouldn’t. She searched her mind for what she was taught of ghosts, and especially the angry ones, while she rifled around for her knives. They could interact with the physical world, couldn’t they? Did it even matter? They needed iron and salt now, answers later. Unfortunately, iron and salt were two things they kept away from the bedroom. “Hey,” Deirdre called out to the ghost, twin daggers spinning in each hand. Ghosts couldn’t be stabbed, or screamed at, and Constance certainly couldn’t be bargained with, but Deirdre was adaptive. Constance wanted Morgan dead; she either did or didn’t know that she succeeded in some regard. She either did or didn’t know that Morgan was a zombie. Soon she’d realize all she needed to do was lift one of Deirdre’s several axes and swords against Morgan’s neck. Deirdre’s plan was simple; if she didn’t know, Deirdre wouldn’t let her figure it out. If she did...well, Deirdre always thought she made a tantalizing distraction. She smirked, doing her best to appear unperturbed by Constance’s presence. “You know, if your whole goal is ‘true suffering’, wouldn’t it make more sense to hit me? Unless being dead for so long has started to wither your mental capacity. It certainly has for your looks.” Deirdre paused, letting her smugness drip across the room. If she wasn’t much of an attractive target now, she hoped she would be soon; the only person who knew where Morgan kept her iron rod was Morgan, and she needed a way to leave. “Oh, right, sorry. You’ve always looked that ugly.”

Morgan’s head collided with the ground, once on impact, twice when Constance pulled it up and tried to bash it in. Morgan braced herself against the fall, but Constance’s grip was hard enough to worry the nerves on her scalp. But there were much bigger problems than that. “Deirdre, no!” She shrieked, clawing at the carpet, straining to get free. She would not lose her. She would burn down more than just Constance to keep from losing her. Morgan screamed wordlessly. Morgan pulled again, crying, “Run!” as she came free. She crawled to her feet and turned just in time to see Deirdre’s knives slice through the air and sit, harmlessly, in Constance’s neck.

“What the hell are you?” She hissed, backing towards the door.

Constance didn’t seem to know either. She was racing towards the woman one moment and was struck frozen by a queer...what did she even call the feeling? Could a touch have an echo? It was nothing at all, the jolt of surprise and fear had been worse. For an instant she could almost hear the sigh of her existence slipping away, of her justice slipping through her fingers as water through a sieve. But the world remained, as did her chance. And by the fires of the earth and their devilish glory, Constance would take it. “I think you could look more dead,” she said. Emboldened now, she shot out a hand for the woman’s throat and squeezed with all her strength.

“Let her go!” Morgan lifted the nearest piece of furniture and threw it at the ghost as she continued her retreat. “End me if you want it so bad!” The chair bounced harmlessly off the ghost’s new body.

She hadn't expected her daggers to be effective, but she had hoped. Just enough, to be troubled by it. Deirdre watched, stoic, as nothing happened—she drew her knife across with ease, and found Constance's body like clay. No blood. No pain. Nothing but surprise. Deirdre knew better than to dare reveal her hand by showing emotion, but she couldn't stop the frown that tugged at her features. What the hell was she indeed. "I think I already look pretty dead enough—but especially pretty," Deirdre croaked in Constance's grip. She still had her superhuman strength, and clearly some of her ghostly power, but Deirdre struggled to put a name to whatever she had become. She watched their chair splinter and crack against her, without so much as a reaction. Deirdre grinned, as if casually amused by the display---despite the panic that lurched inside of her. Slowly, she lifted her other hand, plunging her knife into Constance's arm and twisting it up, dragging with force, to lift Constance's hand off her neck just enough for her to scream. She knew they never did much for ghosts, but she had hoped, just enough, to be disappointed when Constance didn't collapse. With a hiss, she rolled away and drew her knives back.

"If that's the best you can do, I think I see why Agnes got bored of you." Deirdre massaged her throat; it would bruise. Her eyes searched for Morgan, careful to act as the barrier between her and Constance as she retreated, and Deirdre followed suit. Her face furrowed with worry, something between 'maybe don't ask the ghost that killed you once to do it again' and 'I’m okay; don’t worry about me'. Then again, she was the one goading Constance. "Maybe Agnes just had better taste." But her plan was transparent; an angry ghost made for a poor planner. Though, Deirdre grimaced as her neck throbbed with Constance's echoed grip, they did make for stronger threats. She turned to Morgan and smiled softly, decidedly more level-headed about the ordeal. "Running does sound like a good idea, my love."

“HOW DARE YOU!” Constance was no banshee, but her scream drew sparks from the TV. The color jumped and pixelated, blanching white, Meredith Grey’s voice suddenly dropped, blasting too loud in a growling rumble. The bulbs in the room burst, showering them with glass as Constance scrambled over the bed towards them, more tears streaming down her face, her refrain continuing. “You. Don’t Get. To say her name,” she rasped.

“Seriously?” Morgan’s voice was ragged and shrill. She ran back for Deirdre, hand outstretched for hers. The room rattled around them, turning against them as objects rose from the floor like so many limp corpses and gave away their hiding spaces. Morgan’s hand reached Deirdre’s. There was only panic on her face, nothing bave, nothing clever. I’m scared. I can’t lose you. She pulled, begging the heavens to let Deirdre yield to her this once. She pulled her back and shoved her through the doorway with all her strength. If she crashed into the wall, if she fractured a bone or hit her head, at least she was free. “Salt--!” She cried, gasping as the skin on her back ripped open.

“I shall not be your monster,” Constance said behind her, voice trembling as she struggled to keep control of herself. She had heard the tales from the other ghosts by now, of how her power was hamstrung by her humanity. It was another curse, of a kind. She had to kill this new Agnes without falling prey to the evil her presence woke in her. “I am not. I am only your justice,” Constance whispered, “And your fate.”

So, maybe pissing off the vindictive ghost was a bad idea, but Deirdre didn’t have the chance to assess her strategy; her collectedness died the moment Morgan pushed her away. The panic in her girlfriend’s eyes shocked her, and she followed along only to have her own grow wide with fear. She stumbled to the ground, carpet scrapping her palms. Constance wanted to kill Morgan, that was an irrefutable fact; in some small way, if Deirdre stood between them, she could prevent it. In another, more damning way, she simply wouldn’t, and couldn’t, know if something was going to happen to Morgan. Something permanent. “You were supposed to get the salt.” She whimpered, scrambling to her feet as she watched the torrent of anger unfold behind Morgan. Deirdre knew she should run, but fear rooted her. There would be no scream this time. Deirdre glanced at the stairs, wishing with all of her that she could find the strength to do what was logical. But to turn her back on Morgan, even in service of a solution, was too much to ask of her. She slumped, fluttering between guilt and panic. “I’ve always thought ‘monster’ was an apt name for you,” she hissed at Constance’s ignorance, her bastardized use of Fate’s name, but she had no clever taunt. All her fight had been replaced with concern. If she could just get Morgan gone, or going; if she could just get them downstairs. With her expression, desperation pooling in her eyes, she hoped to tell Morgan that she was sorry. That while it made sense to run away and get salt, she couldn’t. She needed Morgan to come with her, she needed to be by Morgan’s side---she wouldn’t be too late, not again. And that it would be okay, somehow, even if it was strange to try and soothe her nerves now, given the situation. She reached for Morgan’s wrist, and ran.

Morgan begged Deirdre with her eyes. Run, please, just run, please… Of the two of them, she could take the most hits. Constance could care her up like a thanksgiving turkey and she’d still make it to another day. But Deirdre, for all her fae power, only needed a blade through her heart or a hand to crush her throat. Nothing new would sprout from her wounds, she would just be dead and everything around them would be worthless.

Constance stabbed her again and Morgan could almost imagine which of Deirdre’s many knives it was from the way it pricked her stomach. Her body heaved, making a soft sucking sound as Constance drew it out, no doubt dripping with black, dead blood. “What in unholy creation--?” She whispered.

Morgan gripped Deirdre back and ran with her. “That was stupid,” she hissed, voice breaking with tears. “You can get hurt, I can’t! If she gets you--” She pulled ahead, making a dead sprint for the stairs. The house panicked around them, yellow lights strobing and firing sparks, glass shaking, doors rocking on their hinges. The cats, hiding in their room, wailed with fright. Morgan ran faster. As she reached the edge of the steps it all went still. Had Constance gone? Given up when her new attempts at murder went worse than before? Morgan stumbled to a halt, still clutching Deirdre. Did she dare look over her shoulder? Dare stop now? “Please…” She whispered, no longer sure what she was pleading for.

“We are not finished, you and I,” Constance said. How ironic that the moment this new Agnes was in her hands, she should wish for her old spirit’s body back. It would have been nothing to fly over in an instant, or to take her precious stones and candles and throw them deftly until she fell over the stairs and snapped her neck. Like this, she had to walk as mortals did, Walk, and still remember who she was. So many cursed chains around the world, around her. If she had understood that better when she was alive, she might have asked the gods for more. But it was too late for her. She had this one hope alone, to fix the last descendant of Agnes Bachman with all the suffering her magic should have caused and rid the world of that line’s cursed violence without surrendering her soul to that cursed family in the process. “Do you know what you have done?” She asked, walking slowly still. “Do you understand why you must be punished?”

Deirdre's gaze refused to lift from Morgan's injuries; she watched tissue repair itself and thick, dark blood stain her clothing. If Constance didn't know she was a zombie now, she would soon enough. And then what? How much time did they have until she figured out what she needed to do? If they bested her now, what prevented her from finding them later, armed with knowledge? "I don't want you to get hurt!" She shouted back, heaving. Her voice dropped to a croaked whisper, pained and desperate. "What happens when she realizes what you are? When she remembers that 'true suffering' is just her excuse to kill you?" It was clear to Deirdre that Constance's only goal now was ending Morgan; perhaps it had always been her plan. If suffering was her game, there were better ways to do it, more effective methods. Constance had never gone after her while Morgan was alive, and Deirdre knew what that meant, where her motivations must have truly laid. If this went poorly, which it so often did with ghosts, Deirdre could only hope that there was enough of a whiff of kindness inside Constance to kill her too—but there so rarely was. She tried to meet Morgan's eyes to work out a plan between them, but soon Constance cut through the air and the world swelled around them again.

"Oh shut up, you hag." Deirdre hissed, kicking their banister and cracking off one of the wooden spindles to wield as a club. Taking cue from Morgan earlier, she shoved her girlfriend along, towards their kitchen. Their ground-level was open enough that they didn't need to be congested in a hallway or around furniture, but to Deirdre, that simply meant more ways for Constance to slip past her and get at Morgan. "What's her crime? Being born? Being happy?" She twirled her makeshift cudgel in her hands, this time sure to keep herself between Morgan and Constance. "And what's stabbing her got to do with anything? If you claim to know so much about heart-break, shouldn't you know better? I thought you wanted suffering, not acupuncture." Deirdre was, of course, trying to bring Constance's attention on to her again. She could only hope that for a moment, Constance would forget that she wanted to kill Morgan and turn her energy elsewhere. At least, long enough for someone to grab salt or iron.

Morgan shook her head. “That is not the most important thing right now!” She hissed. “We can protect the house, we can do whatever we want after we get her out, but if she kills you--” But there was no time. Constance was encroaching on them. “Deirdre…” She whispered, voice breaking. But somehow, even before Deirdre’s hand shot out, Morgan knew what was going to happen. She pleaded silently, but the world was already tilting backwards. Morgan grabbed the bannister, trying to slow her fall and stop any broken bones from bouncing through her skin. She only succeeded in tearing up the skin along her legs as she skidded down to the first floor landing. She scrambled to the kitchen, sliding on her sweaty feet. Her bag with the iron rod was hanging up in there, and they had a bulk thing of salt. But just in her hearing, Deirdre was tempting her fate, throwing herself at Constance like she didn’t matter. Morgan’s arms shook as she swiped her arm through the cupboards, toppling everything in sight until she got what she needed. “Deirdre, I swear by the fucking stars--!” She couldn’t die. Morgan wouldn’t let her. There would’ve been a scream, she would’ve told her, she would. Morgan had to believe that if she wanted to get the lid off the fucking salt and grab her rod.

Constance kept her control fixed around her soul. “Yes,” she said softly. “I bargained with my gods, we had a bargain, and by my power, the Bachmans agreed to submit to their penance. She slipped through. She cheated. And she must not be allowed to continue. But I may wait for her return before harming you, if you wish. It is a very singular thing, to see your nightmares come true. They’re over so much faster, and so much uglier than what your mind imagines. No ceremony, no explanations.” She came right up to Deirdre, trembling through her forced calm. “You love very strangely,” she said. “Trying to hurt her to save her. Or is that you know, deep down, that it would mean nothing if I crushed you on these stairs. Do you think she would be able to tell the difference if I took you over from inside. Or would she just hold your pretty body and content herself with your husk? Is it really worth it to you, if your love is only lies?”

What was more important than Morgan's life? Her safety or her happiness? It was too late to argue with Morgan now, so Deirdre willed herself to face the sole cause of every inch of pain in Morgan's life. All of it, every dead family member, every flood or car crash, led back to Constance and her curse. "You call that a monologue, hag? You think I don't know what suffering is?" She grinned, laughing at the ghost's face. Constance's words were nothing she hadn't already considered, something she didn't already fear. But Deirdre was born for this exact purpose, to look death and fear and suffering in the eyes and stand steady. Constance's words were nothing she hadn't endured already, in some other way, by someone else. Unlike the humans that feared death, she knew to welcome it. Deirdre tightened her grip on the spindle, maintaining her lopsided smile. "You don't know anything about love, Connie. Can I call you Connie? I'm doing it anyway." Her hand darted out and bundled the collar of Constance's dress under her fist, doing and twisting their bodies until she had the force to shove Constance down the steps. As her body tumbled, she jumped over the rail and landed first to the ground below, meeting her at the last step. "If you want Morgan, you go through me. And you can't hurt me, Connie, not at all. I'm not afraid of death, of suffering, I do it all the time." It was Morgan's that she feared for, and Morgan's alone. If she screamed for herself now, she would welcome it, but never without a fight. As long as she breathed, there was still something to be done.

Morgan was darting out of the kitchen as she heard the bodies hit the floor. “No!” She heaved the salt into the foyer, too quickly to aim for anything but the vague direction of the shapes. Constance scrambled back, aware enough of her limitations to know she’d better crawl to higher ground. The salt crystals scattered, forming pools in the carpet as they rivered between her and Deirdre. Morgan held out her rod like a bat, and forded through the mess, kicking salt forwards. Constance had backed herself into a corner, and in her new Not-Quite-a-Real-Girl form, she wasn’t going to be slipping through the walls just yet. “Let me be very clear!” She shouted. “You had your turn and your time. You do not get to come in here and treat my life like it belongs to you. If you want to play god of thunder and rain down some third rate, leftover nonsense on my life, then we can play. I am not the same sad little witch you tried to murder five months ago. I will fight you, Constance. And I swear by every star in the verse, I will make you regret your entire existence. And you will leave my girlfriend alone when I do!” She swung the iron rod and in an instant, Constance’s body dissolved in a flash of grainy ether.

Morgan stayed still for several moments, her trembling arm still raised. Was she done yet? Was it over? The thought drew a breathless laugh from her. Just as she registered the sound, it dissolved into sobs. Morgan slumped and let the rod clatter to the floor.

It was a great fortune that Morgan came when she did, and Deirdre stepped aside so Morgan could do her work. When the fear subsided, and Constance’s body evaporated, pride and concern swelled and she threw her weapon aside to scoop Morgan into her arms. “You did good, my love.” She scanned her for injury, knowing that she would have healed any by now. She pressed her palm to the place where she had been stabbed, running her other hand along her back—where the torrent claimed her skin. She was safe and she was whole, and Deirdre pulled her closer. They had some hours—maybe, if Constance was like a regular ghost—before her body came back together to hurt them again. They needed to get up a salt line, call any witch that would come on short notice, and ready themselves with the salt and the iron. But for now, while they had the chance, Deirdre wanted to hold her girlfriend. “I love you,” she mumbled with a sigh of relief, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Are you hurting anywhere?”

Morgan collapsed into Deirdre’s arms, sobbing still. She pressed her palms all over her to assure herself she was fine and already healing. “I--love--” She gulped for air and held her tighter, nodding furiously so the rest of what she meant was understood. “You can’t keep doing that,” she rasped. “You can’t act like you’re worth less than me. I need you. You can’t make it end like that, I need you…” She rose on her tiptoes as she cried into her hair, straining to feel as much of Deirdre as she could at once. “You are the best part of this life. And I would not know how to give a shit about any of it without you existing in it somewhere. Please...” She shuddered. “I love you. We can find a way to protect each other next time. Please, okay? And I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean to yell, I was just so scared…”

“I know. I’m sorry, I know.” Deirdre breathed, holding Morgan tighter, peppering firm kisses to the side of her face. “But you can’t act like your body is some convenient meat shield either, it matters more than that, it deserves more than that. You matter to me so much, Morgan. And Constance wants you. She can take or leave me, but she wants you. And she took you once, and I can’t let that happen again, and I won’t scream this time if something happens and—“ Deirdre swallowed, breathing in Morgan. “If I was going to die, I’d know and I’d tell you, as soon as I could. I promise it. I’m not leaving you without a warning, without giving us time—not that I want to leave you at all.” Not that she wasn’t wholly prepared to finally fight fate, no matter the sacrilege, if it meant being with Morgan. She was prepared to fight when it claimed Morgan, and she’d fight if it ever came around to her. “I love you. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I yelled and pushed you, and didn’t listen. I just—I don’t want to lose you either. You’re the best part of my life too.” She shifted, bringing her hands up to hold Morgan’s face and thumb away her tears. “Hey, we’ve got some time before we need to salt everything. What do you need? What do you want right now?”

Morgan pressed desperately into Deirdre’s touches. “It’s okay,” she whispered, sniffling. “I pushed you first. I was trying to protect you, I thought it would be safer that way. I don’t think she knows what I am, maybe even what zombies are. Not that, you know, I knew that at the time. Or that we should keep banking on that. I just mean--” She nuzzled into Deirdre’s palm and kissed it. “I’m sorry. I was just scared, that whole time. I saw her face and I was--” She shook her head and tucked herself close again. “Just this. And we should do something for your throat. Some salve or tea or an ice pack for the swelling, but--” She stopped herself from pitching over the end of that train of thought. “I just want to be with you. I want us to be safe and together.” And I want my fucking life, she added silently. And if that meant grinding Constance’s down to nothing so not even the universe could have her again, so be it.

#wr deirdre #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #wr constance #wr constance chatzy #lady lazarus #wickedswriting

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c-c-cherry · 5 years ago

Text

Mistakes are Just Happy Accidents

Josuke is an angry (but mostly sad), emotionally confused boy who just needs a hug. And preferably some reassurance, as well.

I have no idea why I wrote this jumbled piece of garbage. I re-watched the episode where Josuke and Joseph meet for the first time, and I kept thinking “is this poor child really completely cool with this?”

Word Count: 4826

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Josuke Higashikata grew up without a father.

It was normal for him. It was just another fact of life. It had always been Josuke and his mother and his grandfather in Morioh, nothing else. Even when the mysterious man who called himself Jotaro showed up bearing information that was supposed to change his life, Josuke felt unaffected by the information that his father was not only 79 years old, but also alive far away in America.

Josuke always knew that he was a product of some one-night stand or affair, otherwise he would have known at least an inkling about who his father was before Jotaro came. Josuke was never really meant to exist, but his mother never acted that way about him. She showered him with as much love and affection as two parents and made it abundantly clear that it was always her choice to keep him and raise him. Not like Josuke ever needed reminding. He knew what he was and he was never fazed by it; needless to say, he didn’t care.

Like most things in life, Josuke just wanted to go with the flow. He didn’t care that his father was never there, he didn’t care how anyone saw him, and he didn’t take notice when Jotaro mentioned the old man coming up for a visit. He didn’t care. The fact that they would meet for the first time in his life in a couple days went in one ear and out the other.

That was before he actually showed up.

***

Josuke felt something heavy on his chest the moment he and Koichi spotted the boat in the distance. Koichi watched excitedly and Jotaro stood looking off at the boat as if lost in some old memory.

Josuke clenched his fists until he could feel his nails digging harshly into his skin. Everything in his body was screaming, this is a mistake, but he knew there was no going back from this. He couldn’t just run away from something like this. Even if his father was the one to run away from all of this in the first place.

He bit his lip as Koichi looked over at him, frowning. He could barely hear his short friend between the crashing of the waves against the docks and the blood roaring in his ears when asked if he was okay.

“I think it would be better if he just went home,” he mumbled, feeling heat rising to the back of his neck. He wouldn’t call himself a bitter person, but couldn’t stop himself from saying it. What he said wasn’t a lie. This man seemed to bring nothing but trouble wherever he went. Why should he come back here so suddenly? Why did he want to come back here?

Koichi shot a nervous glance at Jotaro, who sighed and mumbled something under his breath. The tension between them only grew as the boat drew closer and closer. The feeling of dread only built up more in Josuke’s chest as it did so.

***

Joseph Joetar was old.

Josuke expected that much, but he couldn’t shake away the sick feeling he felt when the boat finally pulled up onshore. When he finally emerged from the helm, he looked at Josuke for a long time. He didn’t dare look him in the eyes, but he could see the melancholic expression that was displayed across his wrinkled face.

He walked eagerly, fumbled with his cane before tripping, the wooden thing breaking in two. Josuke didn’t even realize what he was doing until he found himself stepping forward and catching the man in his arms. A shiver went down his spine as an unfamiliar touch and smell blocked his senses. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He thought he would feel something, anything, but instead, he felt stupid and numb. This man was supposed to be his father. This was his father. How is that possible? None of this can really be true, can it? How can I hold someone so closely related to me and feel nothing but coldness?

“Watch...your step. You’re gonna fall into the ocean,” he managed to say, his voice quieter and much more fragile than usual. He could feel his confidence leaking out of him, his flamboyant personality fleeting.

“S-sorry,” the old man replied quietly. He uttered something about his cane, and Josuke realized just how old this man was.

Jotaro shook his head and Koichi only watched silently as the man struggled to walk a step further.

Joseph was old and Josuke was angry.

He scoffed, grumbled something under his breath, and took the hand of the man, leading him onwards. The touch felt foreign and Josuke wondered what the hell he was doing trying to help this man.

The man just nodded in thanks and awkwardly walked beside him. Josuke wondered if the old man even knew that he was his son. The thought of being related to him made him sick.

A light blush resonated under his cheeks and he lowered his head in embarrassment. Everyone could tell he was flustered, which only made him more frustrated when their silence hung like a heavy chain as they all watched the two of them walk forward.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered nervously and the way his bottom lip quivered when Joseph was hesitant to even touch him. He didn’t know why he was feeling so emotional. He was supposed to be angry, but now he just felt like crying.

He wanted to die right then and there.

***

Josuke needed to call his mom.

He didn’t know why, but a nagging anxiety led him to the payphone once they reached the bus stop. Maybe it was the awkwardness that was slowly eating him away or the guilt he felt for not telling her that Joseph was even here.

Keeping a close watch on the old man, he shakily slipped a coin into the slot and dialed the number. A few rings sounded as he put the phone up to his ears until he heard a “hello?” from the other end.

“Hey, mom. It's me.” he knew his voice didn’t sound like his. The energy he usually carried with him sounded forced, but his mom didn’t seem to notice.

“Josuke?” her voice sounded confused through the phone and Josuke couldn’t blame her, “You never usually call me. Is everything alright? Do you need something?”

Yes, he wanted to tell her, yes, yes, yes. Come and get me. Please. What am I doing right now? Why am I doing this? Why am I with him? Why is he here?

“You’re gonna be at the house all day, right?”

There was a pause before she answered and Josuke sighed a breath of relief.

“Yeah? What about it?”

You can’t see him. You can’t see the love of your life like this. I won’t let you.

He felt sweat gathering on his forehead before he heard his mom clear her throat through the phone to get his attention.

“Nothing,” he found himself saying quickly, “As long as you’re there, it's fine.”

There was a confused sigh on the other end and Josuke could have kicked himself. Why did he have to say it like that? It made him seem suspicious. Why couldn’t he just act normally under pressure?

“Josuke,” he heard her say gently, “You don’t seem like yourself today. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Why was I born? He wanted to ask her. He never knew the answer, but he never really felt like he needed to. He simply existed without reason and consequence. He never really thought much about it until now. With Joseph here...now...he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know if anyone could give him the right answer, not even his mother.

Why was I born? Why did you keep me? Why did he run away? Why is he here now?

“I’m fine. Look, I’ve really gotta be somewhere. Bye,” he found himself saying instead. The fake facade was gone from his voice, and he could hear his mother retaliate before he slammed the phone down and ended the call.

He didn’t hate Mr. Joestar, no matter how much he tried to. He didn’t hate his mother, either. He didn’t know who to hate right now except for himself and he didn’t even know why.

***

The day was stressful, to say the least. He hated to admit it, but the day had gotten a bit better in the end. After their invisible baby adventure, Josuke felt worn out, but less awkward than before when talking with him.

That didn’t mean the feeling of dread still wasn’t there inside of him.

After everything was dealt with, Jotaro told him to go home. He shrugged and picked up his bag, exiting the room and nodding a goodbye to Koichi and Okuyasu. They offered to walk him home, but he politely declined. They didn’t protest.

As he stepped outside and breathed in the fresh evening air, he was stopped by Jotaro who had seemingly followed him outside. The raven-haired man adjusted his jacket to the slight breeze in the air and stood beside him.

“I know it must be overwhelming for you, him coming in on such short notice and everything. Just wanted to check in and see how you were holding up.”

He said it in such a stoic yet gentle way that made Josuke want to scream.

“I’m fine,” he answered absent-mindedly, stretching his arms up in the air and yawning, “The fact that he’s here doesn’t make a single difference to me. I could care less about what he does.”

He could tell that Jotaro didn’t believe him one bit; the look on his face said it all.

“You sure about that?” he asked boldly. Josuke scoffed but didn’t answer. Jotaro continued on.

“All I’m saying is that it's alright if you’re freaking out a bit. It's normal.”

Jotaro put an emphasis on normal, and Josuke felt his blood boil.

No. None of this is considered normal. Absolutely none of it.

“I’m fine, alright?” he repeated, now slightly more irritated, “And I mean it when I tell you to just drop it, okay?”

Rage was so evident in his voice that he could hear his own breathing coming out in short, ragged bursts. He put a hand up to his chest to stop it, but the dreadful feeling came back instantaneously as soon as he did so.

“Take a deep breath, Josuke.”

The voice beside him commanded him to do so, and he did what he was told, forgetting that Jotaro was still there until the man’s arm was wrapped firmly around him, pulling him into a sort of half-embrace.

Josuke sighed shakily and looked up at Jotaro, who seemed equally as uneasy as he was. Finally getting a hold of his bearings, he quietly pulled himself away from the older man. He could tell that Jotaro was trying his best, but Josuke knew that comforting wasn’t his strong suit.

I don’t need comfort, he told himself bitterly, I don’t need Kujo to tell me what’s normal and what’s not.

“I’m going home,” he said coolly. Jotaro nodded.

“Yare yare...get some rest, yeah? Don’t work yourself up.”

��Sure.”

Josuke nodded a goodbye to him before he slowly walked off down the streets towards his house.

It was weird, he thought. He wanted nothing more than to be at home right now, but also couldn’t stand the thought of stepping back into that house and pretending like everything was normal.

A cool breeze hit his skin and he shivered; he could sense a storm coming soon and no matter how much he wanted to avoid seeing his mother right now, he didn’t want to be caught up in the rain. A lump of clouds was blowing in from the harbour. Josuke sighed. He needed to go home sooner or later.

***

Little droplets of rain started to fall and hit the pavement by the time Josuke made it to his front door. He grumbled some meaningless comment about his hair getting ruined, but hesitated to open the door.

His mom would be worried about him by now. He knew that if he didn’t open the door now, she would come out and look for him herself. Feeling his heartbeat quicken, he sucked in a breath and quietly opened the door.

He prayed that his mom would be doing something; dinner, work, a phone call, anything, but instead she was sitting on the couch reading. Waiting for him.

“You’re back late,” she said, closing her book and looking up at him with narrowed eyes, “What were you doing?”

Josuke fought the urge to jump into her arms and tell her about everything that happened today; from enemy stands to Joseph Joestar, but he knew that he never could. Guilt tugged on his heart as he walked past her.

“Nothing in particular.”

Josuke could tell that she wasn’t buying it.

“I ordered pizza. It just got here a few minutes ago,” she said, gesturing towards the kitchen, “You must be hungry.”

Josuke shook his head and walked past her, “Not right now. I’ll just eat later or something.”

He was just about to set foot on the stairs when Tomoko stopped him in the hallway.

“Where are you going so quickly?” she asked slowly. Her book was slung under her armpit as she crossed her arms. Josuke felt guilt eat away at him.

“I’m tired,” he answered lamely, “I have homework to do before I go to school tomorrow.”

Tomoko narrowed her eyes.

“It's a Saturday, Josuke.”

The boy stayed silent. All he could feel was more and more dread slowly building up inside of him, like gun-powder threatening to explode. Anxiety shot through him at high frequencies and he fought the urge to press a hand up to his chest. Tomoko seemed to notice as well. She slowly placed her book on the table behind her and put her hands on her hips.

“Something’s wrong.”

Silence. Josuke found his hands in fists beside him. He stared at the floor.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, mom. I’m just tired,” he replied quickly. He was getting more and more overwhelmed at whatever interrogation she was putting up. Why did she even care that much?

Tomoko was met with more silence as her son stood there stone-faced in front of her. She frowned when she noticed how hard his fists were clenched beside him. She rarely got worried about her son, but today was an exception. He was definitely upset about something.

“Josuke. Look at me.”

Josuke flinched when his mother brought her hand over to his and slowly unwound the tight grip he had on his hands. She laid his hand flat out and examined the crescent-shaped marks he had ingrained in his palms.

If she noticed them trembling ever-so-slightly, she didn’t comment.

Tomoko stepped back and examined her son who still had his gaze glued to the ground. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. She sighed and crossed her arms.

“Tell me what's wrong,” she repeated, staring him down. Josuke could feel sweat running down his back.

“I told you. Nothing’s wrong,” he said bitterly. His chest clenched in a way that made him wonder if he could even breathe. Tomoko sighed, irritated, and tapped her foot impatiently.

“I know when something’s bothering you, Josuke.”

“I’m fine, mom.”

“No, you’re not. You have that guilty look on your face like you want to talk about what’s on your mind but refuse to because you’re so damn stubborn.”

Josuke felt his breath hitch. Dammit. Why was she so good at that?

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

Josuke felt his skin tingle with a familiar fury. He didn’t want to blow up in front of his mom, but she was really pressing his buttons today. Especially after all that happened today.

“Stop being so stubborn and talk to me!” she growled, taking another step forward.

Why did you keep me? Why are you even worried about me? I’ve been nothing but trouble for you since I was born, haven’t I? And now I’m just more trouble for Joseph and his family. That’s all I am. Just say it already. Say it. Tell me that I’m a mistake.

He bit back the words that so desperately wanted to blurt out, replacing them with, “God! Nothing’s wrong, okay? Just get off my back and let me study!”

He attempted to get up the stairs, but Tomoko blocked them with her body before he could dash up them.

“I’m not letting you leave until you tell me why you’ve been so off today!” she said, her voice rising to a yell.

“Why?” Josuke’s aggravated voice boiled over and he could feel himself losing control of his temper. Not good.

“Because I’m your mother for god’s sake!”

That doesn’t make a difference, he thought to himself, biting back his tongue, Joestar never gave two shits about me. Maybe I thought he would. Maybe I thought he would want to see me. Why should you give a shit about me either? What’s your reason to care?

“JUST--FUCK OFF!” his temper finally got the best of him as he shouted in his mother’s face, leaving her shocked. Her widened eyes quickly turned to a menacing glare as she cowered over her son.

Josuke wasn’t there for long. He pushed past Tomoko and bolted up the stairs at lightning speed, slamming his door shut.

“Josuke,” she called, her voice thick with anger, “Josuke! Come down here NOW!”

The heavy silence that followed was bone-chilling.

Josuke slammed his door shut as loud as he could and scanned the room with heavy, laboured breaths. He needed to punch something. He needed to punch something or else he would fucking explode.

I’m not supposed to think anything of him. I shouldn’t think anything of him. He never signed up to be my dad.

The dreaded feeling in his gut increased tenfold. He felt like he was gonna throw up. Stumbling around his room, he angrily looked for something that he could smash. He chose the mirror.

Bad idea.

With Crazy Diamond’s help, he cried out in fury as the mirror smashed to the floor into a million pieces. Shards of glass skittered quickly onto his bedroom floor and Josuke’s hand was covered in blood. He stared at the smashed mirror in dismay. The pain didn’t go away. The dread still remained.

Stupid fucking Joestar. I didn’t ask for this.

He was still breathing heavily when his mom burst through the door, absolutely livid.

“What the hell is WRONG WITH YOU?!” she roared, “How can you be so reckless?! How can your temper be this--destructive?! ANSWER me Josuke!”

Josuke didn’t answer, just biting down on his teeth with rage. He could feel pain shooting up his arm as glass shards pierced his skin. The loud crashing noise still echoed in his ears.

He tasted something sour in his mouth as his throat constricted his breathing. He could feel another wave of anger coming over him and it felt like torture. The air around him felt too cold on his skin and he could feel his body prickle all over as a bout of nausea hung over him like a dark cloud. Cold sweat dripped down his back. His clothes felt too tight for his skin. His hands were shaking violently at his sides. He was suffocating.

He needed to punch something again. He needed to destroy something. If he didn’t, he was worried he would cry, or the lingering nausea would overtake him and he would throw up. Or maybe his heart would just stop and he would drop dead.

Tomoko stared menacingly at her son, awaiting an explanation, but Josuke trudged past her and eyed the first thing in his path; the bookshelf. With angry, infuriated breaths, he growled loudly and pushed at the books harshly, causing them to fall and hit the ground loudly.

He grabbed book after book with violent, power-hungry hands and whipped them at the floor. He could hear them all hit the floor with a sickening satisfaction, covers being ripped and pages getting bent. It felt disgustingly good.

He couldn’t stop.

“JOSUKE!” his mother shouted at him, stomping forward with such intensity that the boy would have normally feared had it not been for his current state.

He could feel his breathing get more and more uncoordinated and sloppy, the rage-induced breaths coming out in short, uneven bursts. His lungs were burning.

He heard his mother yelling at him angrily to stop from behind him as something acidic lined his throat. He threw down book after book, and when the shelf was empty, he stomped over to his desk and whipped his school bag to the floor, throwing pencils, pens, and paper behind him in his path of destruction.

I’m nothing but a worthless fuckup. I’m nothing but trouble. Look at me now. Fucking look at me. I destroy everything. I ruin everything. I even ruined things by being born. Fuck.

Josuke’s hands faltered weakly as his body came to an almost complete stop, a textbook gripped in his shaking hands. He slowly turned his head and stared in horror at the sight around him.

He had done this.

Apart from his ragged breathing, it was dead silent in the house. Josuke sucked in a shaky breath and lifted the textbook over his head, prepared to slam it to the ground like everything else, when his mother slowly stepped towards him, all anger gone from her face.

“Stop,” she said shakily, lifting her hands up cautiously, “Stop it.”

She looked cautious, scared even, and the dread building up inside him rose up in his throat. Josuke didn’t move a muscle when his mother tenderly pried the book from out of his hands and set it down on the desk beside him. His hands dropped to his sides and a terrible feeling of guilt washed over him.

“Why do I--have to ruin-- everything--?” he choked out, feeling his throat close up even more as a lump formed in it. He brought his un-injured hand up to his mouth in hopes of preventing the inevitable.

It proved impossible as a pained sob shook his whole body and he felt himself crumple up against the wall. Tears began to well up in his eyes and he sniffled at an attempt to make them magically go away. Nothing seemed to work.

“Josuke…” his mother said softly. Any previous looks of anger were wiped freshly off her face. Right now, she was only concerned for her son.

She stepped forward and opened her arms, which proved to be the right thing to do as the boy practically collapsed into them, sobbing loudly.

Tears glistened on his face as they rolled fresh down his cheeks, dribbling off his chin and staining his mother’s clothes. She listened as Josuke babbled apologies and incoherent words to her and she held him tightly.

Josuke didn’t cry. Sure, he got unnecessarily angry, but sadness was never really something that her son would normally give in to. He was a strange kid, she’d admit that, but this behavior was even stranger than normal. Looking around the room as if a tornado had hit it, she made a mental note to talk to him about controlling his anger.

“-I’m--I’m just trouble for everyone--even you--I don’t even know why you kept me when he didn’t even want me--” he sobbed, his voice wobbling as he did. Tomoko just ran her hands through his now messy and crumpled hair, her other hand tracing gentle circles on his back.

He was crying about his father.

Tomoko never really had to talk to him about his father much and it seemed like Josuke never really cared about it. Maybe she was wrong. The boy seemed so emotionally conflicted and she realized now why it was so hard for him to talk to her about it.

Stepping over shards of glass and thrown books, she deemed herself lucky for them to both have their shoes on. She led her and her son over to his bed and the two sat there for a while, Josuke’s stream of tears seeming endless.

His hands were still shaking, and he realized that all of his anger had dispersed, leaving him nothing but hysterical and broken. Even so, the weight that was pulling him down all day felt lighter now that he was getting it out of his system. He made a mental note to cry more often.

He and his mother sat silently on his bed until the tears streaking down his cheeks were nothing but stains starting to dry, and his breathing had mostly gone back to normal.

Josuke slowly started to pull away from his mother’s embrace, still refusing to meet her eyes.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, his voice strangely steady, “Just--things are a lot right now--I got too angry. I’m sorry.”

Tomoko felt herself sigh with relief. There was the gentle, considerate son that she knew so well. She knew how angry he could get on occasions, but breaking things was never a problem. She wouldn’t say she was mad anymore, just confused. It pained her to see him this way.

“That's okay,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it lightly, “Do you wanna talk?”

Josuke shook his head, but after a moment of silence, he sighed shakily and opened his mouth. He knew he couldn’t talk to her about meeting Joseph today, but he could at least talk to her about the other stuff going on in his head.

“It’s stupid, really. I know that you love me, and you’ve done your best to give me twice as much love, but I just-” he paused, taking a deep breath, “-I guess I kept wondering why he didn’t want me and the fact that I was a mistake, to begin with. And things just kept going wrong today and it just felt like I was ruining everything and before I knew it I was ruining everything and it was just--”

“-too much,” he exhaled, staring intently at the ground.

Tomoko sighed and leaned into him, letting the boy rest his head on her shoulder before she spoke.

“Frankly, I’m not even sure your father knows you exist,” she said, laughing sadly, “But that shouldn’t matter. He wasn’t ready to raise another kid and that was his decision. But whatever happened, I would never consider you a mistake, Josuke. You were always meant to be mine. I love you. And even if your father isn’t here to say it, he loved me. So he loves you, as well.”

Her reassurance calmed Josuke’s nerves, and although Joseph was here in this very town at the moment and the fact that he would never tell his son that he loved him made him a bit melancholy, her words lifted up his spirits just a bit.

“Thanks,” he mumbled into her shoulder. Tomoko nodded in acknowledgement and rubbed her hand up and down his back.

“Do you want some water?”

Her question didn’t elicit a reply, and she turned to face her son. Josuke wasn’t listening. Instead, he was staring at the room around him in horror.

“I--I can’t even remember breaking the mirror,” he choked out, “I just felt so--awful--like I would completely snap if I didn’t break something-”

There was an edge to his voice like his anxieties were coming back to him, but her mind quickly discarded that concern as she remembered; he punched a mirror.

“Let me see your other hand,” she ordered. Josuke shakily raised it and she wasn’t surprised at all the blood seeping out of it. Shards of glass were still stuck in his knuckles and Josuke stared at it with dread.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, his hand throbbing, “I’m-"

“-It's alright. I might be a little pissed off at the whole mirror thing, but I’m not mad at you. I’ll clean it up later. First, we should address...this…” she gestured to Josuke’s mangled hand, and Josuke wished that his stand could heal himself for once.

Even so, he much-rather preferred the tender hands of his mother pulling out any stray glass shards wrapping it up carefully in a bandage than any cold touch of any stand.

He knew he didn’t need his father, but he still wanted him in some twisted way.

As his mother led him downstairs to the kitchen table and pulled out the first Aid kit, he was reminded of just how amazing this woman was. A rush of warmth overcame him, one that he hadn’t felt all day.

Who needed his dad?

His mother did the job perfectly fine without him.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #josuke higashikata #tomoko higashikata #jotaro kujo #4taro #angst #hurt/comfort #c-c-cherry's fic

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