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acynicalsweetheart · 13 days ago

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daisuke nonconing reader omg >.<

HERIKUTSU BOY !

pairing: daisuke x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

dead dove do not eat: 18+, smut, non-con/rape, drug use, weed, virginity loss accompanied by blood, teeny mention of non-sexual vomit at the end

author's note: hai sorry it took so long. first time ever writing for daisuke.. don’t quite think i nailed his characterisation but whatever. hope it’s not too ass. title from jun togawa hopefully got it right this time LOL. any interaction/feedback appreciated as always!!

“What about…” Daisuke scratches his chin thoughtfully, trying to come up with something that’ll impress you enough to let him get into your pants. “Is your dad a terrorist?”

You blink. Once. Twice. High as a kite.

“‘Cause that ass is the bomb!”

“That’s cringe.” You say totally unimpressed, rolling your bloodshot and half-lidded eyes at him, reaching over to take another hit of the bong.

His dick is literally hard from how much effort he put into that pick-up line. And your boobs. And your really short shorts. And your pink panties that are peeking out of your really short shorts.

Daisuke is just tryna get some, man. You’re so stubborn. Not even a crumb of pity sex. Not even a blowjob! The only thing he’s gonna walk away with is a tummy ache and a mouth drier than the Sahara desert, isn’t it?

“Hey, you’re cringe! That was actually good. You… thought it was good, right?” Jeez, he hates how fucking high his voice goes when he raises it. Sounds so boyish. No wonder you don’t want him.

You keep lighting the bong to take hit after hit, it’s like you think he’s annoying or something. You totally think he’s annoying.

Daisuke would take more hits of the bong himself if he had the balls to. But he fears he’d cum in his pants placing his lips where you just had yours. Like, that would basically be equal to kissing.

“Okay, fine.” Daisuke wipes his clammy palms on his jeans, heart falling out of his ass at the thought of you noticing the dark hand-shaped marks so he hides them with his hibiscus shirt. “How about this, it’s a new one this time.” Something less controversial, more… straightforward. Girls like that.

Blowing the smoke right in his face—when you should be blowing him—you speak slowly and flatly. “I really don’t care.”

“Shut up, shut up—just listen…” he waves it off, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the piss-flavored Monster Energy as liquid courage. “Are you a light switch?”

Speaking before you can say no, Daisuke drops the bombshell. “Because you really turn me on.”

Oh my God. You definitely think he’s fruity. Should he take off his shirt? Okay, no, might make you think he’s trying to seduce you. Which he is. But subtlety is the best way to go, according to that one podcast.

“Haha! Ha… Get it?” Daisuke scratches his neck nervously, petting the spiky ends of his hair in a failed attempt to comfort himself.

…

“You turn me on?” He shrugs, palms upward like he’s trying to lift off the awkwardness weighing his shoulders down.

“Daisuke, I’m not gonna sleep with you.” You tell him honestly, lighting the bong for the millionth time.

At least give him credit for trying.

“Why? You’re not a virgin.” He thinks? You’re like really freaking hot, no way you’ve never let anyone hit. “Or are you?” Daisuke wiggles his brows at you. Jokingly. He might have to die if you think he’d do that seriously.

(He was doing it seriously.)

“No—“ you sputter, failing to exhale the smoke ‘cause you’re nearly choking on it.

“I see what this is,” he grins, thinks he feels his balls grow ‘cause of the testosterone boost he just got. Actually might’ve been adrenaline. Uh, the sex hormone? Confidence? Whatever. “You’re scared because you’re a virgin.” Says Daisuke, who has gotten exactly zero bitches in his entire life.

“I’m not! You are!” You’re so high you can’t even snap at him properly. Replying with a half-assed, “fuck you.”

“Yeah?”

“No.” You groan, face palming.

“Aw.” Daisuke pouts, about to take another swig of his energy drink that he’s pretending is beer when you absolutely keel over. Like a vase off a counter. “Woah!”

Can’t tell what, but you’re mumbling something. He hopes it’s related to banging him. A guy can dream.

“Are you… okay?” Hands gripping your shoulders to hold you up, Daisuke tries to get a look at your face to tell what’s going on. You kind of look dead, like really fucking high and dead.

“Mmm…”

And sleepy. And… sexy. The straps of your tank top are falling down. Thank God for gravity. And boobs. Daisuke lays you down on the floor carefully. Props up a pillow behind your head for comfort. From where he’s sitting he can see everything.

He’s totally staring at your crotch.

“Sorry, I…” it’s like your pussy is made out of steel and Daisuke is a magnet. Like a fucking pervert, a trickle of drool forms at the corner of his mouth. Goodbye weed mouth, at least? “You’re… hot. I think you’re hot.”

Did he just say that out loud? What the fuck, man? Is he on drugs? Shut up, Daisuke.

“You don’t say.” He thinks you’re being sarcastic.

“Well, uh,” he swallows the horny lump in his throat, “you’re gonna be alright, aren’t you? I mean, you’re not gonna… die or anything?” Please don’t die before he gets to tap that ass.

“Nooo,” you glare at the ceiling.

“Cool! So, then… you wouldn’t mind if I… you know.” Daisuke rolls his fingers, gesturing like a fucking clown and you can’t even see him. “Yeah, that’s, um…”

Your eyes flutter shut, cuddling the side of your face into his pillow.

The very same pillow he sleeps on every night. Daisuke is so turned on he thinks he might spontaneously combust into pieces. Well, not entirely spontaneously, more so out of plain arousal. “Just… go to sleep. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

…

“Okay, alright, sure,” he says to no one in particular, pumping his fists like it’ll give him the confidence to see this through. “Let’s… let’s do this.”

Shrugging off his button-up, he takes a few deep breaths. With shaky hands, he pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his baggy jeans that are only growing tighter ‘cause Daisuke is only growing harder by the minute.

“I wanted to do this on my bed but… ya know.” He pulls the zipper down, sneaking glances at you and your nipples and your lips peeking out of your panties under your shorts. “I don’t really lift, heh.”

He thinks he hears you groan again. Like, a please-shut-the-fuck-up groan, not a sexy one.

“Not—not that you’re heavy or anything! God, no, I just… forget it.” See, this is why you should’ve just said yes. Could’ve spared Daisuke the embarrassment if you were kissing him right now. “It’s me, okay? I’m the one who doesn’t lift, totally my bad, uh—but you know, I play baseball so—“

“Sorry.” Daisuke looks down at the bulge and the huge dark spot on his red boxers. “I’ll shut up.”

Running his hand through his hair like it’ll alleviate his humiliation, Daisuke very carefully pulls down your tank top. Till your breasts show anyway. Man… he needs to suck those things like a fucking baby. What?

Your face is still relatively peaceful, he concludes from the frantic glances he shoots it every couple seconds.

Next up are your shorts, takes a good struggle to get them off from how tight they’re clinging to your body. If Daisuke didn’t know any better he would have said you got them a size too small on purpose just to tease him. But he is pretty sure you hate his guts.

Pink. Pink panties. So soft. He thinks he’s going to cum just from feeling the fucking fabric.

Nevermind that, ‘cause Christ Almighty is your pussy perfect.

“Wow!” He exclaims much too loud for somebody who just promised to stay quiet. Clearing his throat, Daisuke settles for a calmer, manlier: “I mean, wow.”

“Can I…” that puss has to be frickin’ magical. It’s got him under a spell for sure, “you don’t think I could have a taste, do you?”

…

“Right. Sorry.” Forgot you’re fucking asleep. Or passed out. Unconscious? Whatever’s going on.

You’re not very wet. Damn. You really aren’t into Daisuke after all. He was hoping they were just those like, anxiety ridden thoughts that everybody gets sometimes. Wait. Everybody gets those, right?

Right?

He wets his fucking chopstick fingers with his spit, very carefully rubbing at your pussy ‘cause he’s scared to hurt her. You whimper when he circles the bud peeking out, some of your own slickness starting to drool out of your slit.

Daisuke’s dick twitches like it’s having a seizure, like it will physically power off forever unless he sticks it inside of you right now.

“Oh my God.” Collecting your… pussy drool and staring at it in awe of its shininess—the fact that Daisuke is the one that induced this—he’s gotta hurry. “Sorry, I have to—I don’t wanna…”

He has to fuck you because he doesn’t wanna cum in his underwear. It’s a miracle and a mystery how it hasn’t happened yet.

“Okay,” Daisuke tastes your slick on his fingertips, unable to not moan at the flavor. Thankfully you’re still… you know. Not really there. So he pulls down his boxers, letting his harder-than-a-diamond dick spring free.

It’s like, fucking leaking at the tip.

Spreading your legs and wrapping them around his hips (which doesn’t exactly work ‘cause of how slack they are), half-failing to wrap your limp arms around his neck, Daisuke positions himself above you—bracing himself with his arm next to your head.

You’re breathing out slow puffs of air onto his cheek as he jerks himself a handful of times before lining up with your hole. Daisuke can’t tell if it’s him or you that’s dripping fucking wet. Probably him. His cherry is so long overdue to be popped that it’s actually embarrassing. Virginity does in fact, not rock.

After a few thrusts, Daisuke sinks inside and your walls grip his dick tighter than his fist at night, sucking him in eagerly like a vacuum cleaner. So… were you just playing hard to get all along? Your pussy is so warm he might be getting second degree burns. “Oh, yeah.”

He’s going to fucking bust.

Kind of hard to feel bad for you when you’re this pretty, when your cunt is this wet, and when Daisuke is this horny. He humps you like a dog, gasps and pants spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. Burying his face in your neck, Daisuke gets a whiff of your perfume.

You let out these mumbles that are kind of sounding like moans. Daisuke chuckles a little, biting and sucking on your neck till it bruises. ‘Cause it’s… hot. Also ‘cause he doesn’t want you to hear how loud he’s moaning himself. “This—this shit is fucking awesome. You’re awesome.”

And he’s close.

Daisuke’s forearms are stinging with pins and needles ‘cause he’s essentially holding a plank above you, moving his hips and fuck all. Shit’s like a work-out. But his body moves like it’s on autopilot. Gives him this sort of understanding for dad now, for how Daisuke himself was made. A sexy damn mistake.

Oh, boy, he’s fucking cumming.

“Fuck,“ he hugs you closer, plowing into you harder—hitting some spongy spot inside of you. Turning him dizzy from the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. So loud Daisuke can’t even hear himself moaning like a fucking female pornstar taking the biggest dick of her life, “oh, babe.”

(He wishes you were his babe.)

Balls tightening, Daisuke tenses up and cums with a groan, shooting thick spurts deep inside you. Painting your walls white for days. Your pussy’s gripping onto him for dear life. You may not want him back but your pussy sure does. Fuck, man.

Bestest fucking release he’s ever had. Cleansed his soul by jizzing that hard. Like, opened his chakras and all that jazz. Jizz and jazz? Daisuke should totally be a comedian.

You have to let him do this more often. Daisuke and you could go at it like, every day! Several times, too. Man, imagine the sheer abs he would get. Baseball don’t do that. He just gets these small lumps on his arms that are supposed to resemble muscles, but don’t show enough ‘cause he’s got a big-ass nasty sweet tooth. Not you this time, but actual sweets. So they’re sort of… soft. In a very not-manly way.

Daisuke pulls out, freezing up like time’s paused.

“Holy shit!” He looks down at the blood caked on his dick. Coating it like the condom he probably should’ve worn. Reddish-pink thick cream dripping out of your slit. “Are you on your period?” Idiot. “Or did I… did I hurt you? I mean, I don’t think I’m that big.”

…

“Sorry,” Daisuke grabs at his head, runs his hand through his hair, runs his hand over his face damp with sweat, “sorry, I just… holy shit.” He covers his mouth. Can’t take his eyes off his softening, bloody dick.

“You really…” he feels fucking sick, forcing the bile building up in his throat back down with a dry swallow. “You really were a virgin, huh?” Thought Daisuke was the only one a virgin at his age. It’s somehow not comforting at all.

Unless…

“Or waitwaitwait—uh, cough once for yes and twice for no.” A beat. A sniffle? Was that him or you? “To the virgin question.”

Fucking idiot. Why would you cough? You can’t even speak! Like, can you even breathe? Oh, man, what if he killed you!? Okay, you’re still breathing. Still got a pulse. Thank God. Shit. Thought he was boutta land his ass in jail for a second.

“I’m sorry.” Daisuke regrets not taking more hits of the bong when he had the opportunity to, ‘cause his mouth is overflowing with spit. He knows what’s coming. And it’s not a hangover one. “I didn’t—I didn’t—mean to—I didn’t know.” Heaving like he’s being strangled. Hiccups cutting off his every word.

You whine like an old, creaky door. Tossing and turning with the subtlety of a professional assassin. What if you were awake all along? What if you were just… pretending to be asleep? ‘Cause you didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he—that Daisuke… he can’t do this.

“Did it hurt?” Daisuke’s blood is so cold he could very well get diagnosed with hypothermia if he went to the doctor. Stomach clenching and churning but he’s not hungry. He’s fucking sick. “Sorry… I’m really sorry.”

Tucking his dick back into his boxers ‘cause he can’t stand the sight of it anymore, he throws himself off of you. Stumbling as he stands up on his feet, knocking over the bong in the process. You’re just laying there like a fucking ragdoll. A used and abused ragdoll. With Daisuke’s cum and your own blood pouring out of you.

“Listen, I’ll get some painkillers and—“ shit’s fucking forcing itself up his esophagus as he speaks. It burns like lava straight from the devil’s ass. He has to fucking bail. “And… I’ll stay here till you wake up, okay?” Now.

He doesn’t even make it to the bathroom, doesn’t reach the toilet before he fucking pukes. Bucketloads of acidy, watery yet somehow chunky shit just… falling out. All over himself. On the floor. On the toilet seat. On the carpet.

It’s probably whatever blend of colors of his recent meal, but all Daisuke can see is your blood. Your blood and his cum coming out of his mouth. Laying there. Shit fucking moves, painting itself into your sleeping face.

Daisuke is going to hell.

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writemekpop · 2 years ago

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Birthday Blues (Part 1) | Na Jaemin

Summary: When Jaemin thinks you’ve forgotten his birthday, you have the biggest argument you've ever had.

Genre: Boyfriend!Jaemin, angst

Word Count: 1k

Jaemin was furious. It was his birthday today, and you, his girlfriend of three years, had forgotten about it.

When he woke up this morning, he could barely contain his excitement. He was expecting to see you in something red and lacey, get breakfast in bed, and have some delicious morning loving.

But to his disappointment, he woke up to you, moody, sweaty, and hurling into the bin. You were hungover from your girls’ night out the previous evening.

Soon, it was 7PM, and you still hadn’t mentioned Jaemin’s birthday.

“Could we stop by Yuta’s bar before we go home?” You asked. “They’re having a special offer. Five cocktails for five pounds! I heard they make your vomit look all rainbow-y.”

Jaemin scoffed. “That sounds just fantastic. But two nights in a row? Are you sure this drinking thing isn’t becoming a problem? Plus…” He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. “Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing… especially today?”

“What’s so special about today?” you said, shaking your head. “Come on, it’s only a mile away. Do you have money for an Uber? I left my wallet at home.”

“You’re so freaking forgetful,” Jaemin snapped.

You raised your hands in surrender. “Alright, jeez! It’s just a wallet.”

“It’s not just that! What about my cat? You forgot to feed Sushi all week while I was in Morocco. She nearly starved to death! Or what about when you forgot where you parked my BMW, and I had to miss Jeno’s leaving party to search for it! And what about my bir-“

Jaemin stopped mid-sentence when he realised that you weren’t listening to him. You were busy typing away on your iPhone.

Jaemin yanked the phone out of your manicured fingers and threw it onto the floor. The screen cracked.

You gasped. Putting your smashed phone into your pocket, you turned to your boyfriend.

“Can we just… go inside?” You pointed at the bar. “I promise, everything will be-“

“Oh my god,” Jaemin said, cutting you off. “Why are you so desperate to go inside? If you really want to see your friends so much then, let’s go.”

Jaemin grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you through the door.

The inside of the bar was pitch black.

“Would you look at that?” Jaemin spat. “It’s empty. Did you forget what time you were supposed to meet up? God, why are you so dumb?”

“Jaem-“ You waved frantically at him, but he wouldn’t stop.

“You’re so disorganised… and- you’re lazy! It’s my birthday and all you’ve done is whine about your own stupid life. Why do you have to be so fucking selfish? We are done, you… you bitch!”

You and Jaemin stared at each other in stony silence. Jaemin was panting, and you were fighting back tears.

Just then, the lights flickered on.

“S-surprise,” came a bunch of unsure voices.

Jaemin turned around to see the shocked and disapproving faces of everyone he loved staring back at him.

A live band in the corner started to play ‘Happy Birthday’, but someone told them to shut up.

The room was filled with fifty of his friends, parents, cousins, colleagues… Haechan was standing in the middle of the crowd, holding a huge three-tier chocolate cake. A big banner saying Happy Birthday, Jaemin hung from the wall.

Jaemin turned to you. “You… did all this?”

Your face was wet with tears. You pushed past Jaemin and ran out of the door.

“Wait!” Jaemin shouted, but it was too late.

“Way to go, buddy,” Renjun said, slapping him a little too hard on his back. “It’s called a surprise party… ever heard of it? Y/n spent weeks organising it.”

Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, throat dry. “I’ve really messed things up, haven’t I?”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “Welcome back to Singles Night, bud. We missed you.”

---

Jaemin ran all the way home. When he saw you in the bedroom, his heart surged. You hadn’t left!

You were facing away, standing by the open wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked, frowning.

You spun around at the sound of his voice. “Packing. You said it yourself, J, we’re done.”

Jaemin ran towards you and pulled the bag from your hands. “I didn’t mean any of that! I was just… angry. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You shook your head, taking the bag back. “Jaemin… you called me a bitch. Do you not respect me at all? How can you expect me to stay with you after that?”

Jaemin crumpled onto the bed, tears threatening to spill. He hugged his knees tight. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

You sat beside him on the bed, shoulders drooping.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered. “You deserve someone… better.”

“No!” Jaemin shook his head. “Please don’t leave me.” He leant his head against your shoulder, crying.

You sat in silence for a moment. Then you sucked in a deep breath and stood up.

“I have to,” you said. “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You walked out of the room. A few moments later, Jaemin heard the thud of the front door.

Jaemin stood up. He looked at the picture frame on the bedside table, it was of you and him, laughing whilst sharing an ice cream.

He picked it up and threw it against the wall, screaming. The glass shattered.

He ran into the living room, head spinning. That’s when he saw it.

There was a small box on the coffee table, wrapped with a purple bow, and a message that said ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAEMIN’. He opened the box, fingers trembling.

Inside was a sleek brass ring. He picked it up and read the inscription on the ring.

“Y/n and Nana forever.”

What a fool he was.

Part 2 coming soon...

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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l0v3gore · 22 days ago

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⍣Heaven sent☆

Yikes!!! - inspo for this oneshot, Bakugo ver. And Kaminari.ver - here!

Feat.Eijirou Kirishima

Warnings:- Hangover and vomiting.

Synopsis:- A night of reckless drinking has left you in the depths of a truly hellish hangover—nausea, headaches, and the overwhelming regret of whatever witchcraft horror you consumed. As you sway on the brink of your mortal limits, help arrives in the form of Eijirou Kirishima, your ever-patient and impossibly sweet boyfriend. Armed with sports drinks, snacks, and an endless supply of comfort, he’s determined to nurse you back to life. Between dry heaving and dramatic declarations of your impending doom, you start to realize that maybe, just maybe, suffering through this is worth it—because it means being cared for by the kindest boyfriend in the world.

Undeniably, you have made many mistakes in your life. Your excuse? Well, it's obviously your whimsical, spontaneous nature plus your daring alter ego—Pfft, as if!

Quite literally nothing in the world could excuse the mess you've gotten yourself into this time.

Your first mistake was buying inconspicuous amounts of drinks last night, and well, your second mistake? Was drinking them all as if their express purpose wasn't to annihilate your soul.

And now, finally, the consequences of your own actions were finally catching up to you.

Consequences so deep it felt like your body had been possessed, your stomach staging a violent rebellion against your very existence. Your skull was playing host to what could only be described as a demonic sacrifice, and every time you so much as shifted, the nausea spiked to ungodly levels.

You were convinced this was it. This was how you died.

But then, redemption arrived in the form of Eijirou Kirishima.

“Jeez, baby,” his voice was soft, but even that sent a sharp pang through your head. “I think you might’ve actually committed a crime against humanity with whatever you consumed.”

You groaned, curling further into the fetal position. “Kill me.”

“Not happening,” he said, a warm hand settling on your back. “But I do come bearing gifts.”

You pried one eye open to find him kneeling beside the couch, holding up a bottle of sports drink and snacks like they were holy relics.

You stared at him, half delirious. “Are you an angel?”

He grinned. “Nope, just your very devoted knight in shining armour of a boyfriend.”

With great effort, you rolled onto your back, but the movement made your stomach lurch. Kirishima acted fast, shoving a trash can beside you just in time. You clung to the rim of the bin like it was your last bind to the mortal realm, groaning pitifully.

He ran a soothing hand up and down your back, murmuring words of encouragement as your body decided whether or not it was going to betray you further. Eventually, when the nausea simmered down enough for you to form coherent thoughts, he unscrewed the cap on the sports drink and held it out.

“Small sips,” he instructed, his voice warm but firm. “We gotta get some electrolytes in you.”

You did as you were told, mostly because you lacked the willpower to argue, but also because the way he was looking at you—like you were the most precious thing in the world despite being in full goblin mode—was oddly comforting.

After managing a few sips, you flopped against the couch with a sigh. Kirishima chuckled, tucking the blanket tighter around you before brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face.

“You really went through it, huh?”

“You don’t even know,” you mumbled. “I saw the light, Kiri. I think I spoke to a god.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Well, I’m just glad you came back to me.”

You peeked up at him, your stomach still fragile but your heart warm. “Me too.”

And as he sat there, patiently taking care of you without a single complaint, you realized that maybe, just maybe, suffering through this level of hell was worth it—because it meant getting taken care of by the sweetest boyfriend in the world.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima x reader #oneshot #kirishimaoneshot #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima x y/n

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bruh-changbin · 2 years ago

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patience is a virtue

part 3 to invasion of privacy series

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god

word count: 8.6k

a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread

read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense

[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄

[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty

[cullen tease]:..... no comment

[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down

[grandfather]: what about heeseung?

[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days

[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?

[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo

[shithead]: no way

[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?

[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun

[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me

[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore

[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get

[grandfather]: emotional

[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year

[shithead]: wait what if…….

[shithead]: she killed him

[grandfather]: you’re an idiot

[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation

[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it

[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand

[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that

[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean

[grandfather]: guys

[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2

[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2?

[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash

[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever

[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee

[adult virgin]: i’m not dead

[cullen tease]: heeseung!

[grandfather]: heeseung!

[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!

[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?

[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit

[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god

[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it

[cullen tease]: uh oh

[shithead]: oh shit

[grandfather]: oh jeez

[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’

[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake

[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad

[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again

[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???

[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat

[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now

[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone?

[shithead]: no can do my friend

[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention

[adult virgin]: i’m good

[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope

[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!

[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns

[shithead]: see you soon hee!

[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone

[adult virgin]: guys?

bang bang bang!!!

heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them.

“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend.

jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”

“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”

jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”

a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer.

“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom.

“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.

when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.

“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child.

“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs.

“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.

“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious.

heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).

“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior.

“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.”

sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going.

heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night.

“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.

seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall.

“females are so difficult to understand.”

“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”

“i don’t do casual.”

“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance.

“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually.

“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”

jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.

heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.

after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.

“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.

it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.

order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.

as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’

nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.

it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl.

he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.

one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.

trash!

and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing.

one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor.

he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.

your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.

yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.

so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week.

shit.

shitshitshitshitshitshit.

this was not supposed to happen.

“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).

it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.

“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you?

seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom.

unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).

“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”

upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again.

“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”

“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.

“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”

“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.

“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs.

“it’s about….. shakespeare.”

“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”

“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not.

“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”

that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion.

“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity.

“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.

“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed.

“get… what?”

heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees.

instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp.

salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week.

“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”

“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”

pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke.

tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.

heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.

he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him).

furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least).

“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”

“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”

jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”

“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.”

“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly.

“okay………………. fuck.”

“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support.

“yea, fuck!!!”

“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well.

“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.

and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.

jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.

the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.

in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before.

as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment.

his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.

“jake,” heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”

“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”

he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”

“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!

jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”

sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman.

heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.

“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung.

“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time.

when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky.

“hey.”

“hi~”

“i’m heeseung.”

“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”

“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection.

the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same.

heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.

“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.

dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!

nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!

in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers.

she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord.

it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.

the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again.

from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.

a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!

without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass.

with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you.

being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.

“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp.

“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly.

your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”

“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.

you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”

“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.

“i have to tell you something.”

“okay.”

silence.

“...what do you wanna tell me?”

“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start.

“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”

a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.

“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”

he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”

“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”

“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself.

“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips.

“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying.

half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down.

“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue.

“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”

“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue.

“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.

pain.

the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.

not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.

an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking.

he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows.

oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?

heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey.

“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately.

“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.

“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”

heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”

“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.”

still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end.

“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”

a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”

he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”

“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk.

“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder.

“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”

he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door.

a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable.

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission.

heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?”

a plea.

and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his.

it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.

you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his.

underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him.

“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.

as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat.

with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making.

“can you show me how you get yourself off?”

your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves.

“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”

“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament).

unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.

with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric.

heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed.

your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms.

“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”

your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”

you. obviously.

but he doesn’t say that.

he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further.

“do you think about me?”

yes. obviously.

he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response.

“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering.

you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.

as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm.

in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape.

without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh.

“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.

“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.

he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.

“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment.

“even when i’m hungover?”

“even when you’re hungover.”

you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own.

heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations.

only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy.

your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other.

“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax.

the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality.

his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.

“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers.

you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often.

the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand.

the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline.

bliss.

euphoria.

a happy ending.

a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.

patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife

#enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fanfiction #lee heeseung blurbs #lee heeseung imagines #kpop smut

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eddiemunsonw · 2 years ago

Text

I'm kurtsworld96

Kurt Kunkle x fem!reader

Summary: You desperately need a car ride, but some bothersome asshole demands to join. Kurt notices your discomfort and well, he takes care of it.

CW/Disclaimer: Sexual harassment (not done by Kurt), murder, I guess there's some cuteness in there but it's layered with mixed feelings

Author's note: I wanted to try writing about Kurt, so this is my first (and possibly only) go at it :)

Words: 2600

All you needed was a ride. It didn’t really matter where to, as long as it was away from this place. Unfortunately, you had to give up an address. You added a random train station that was about a forty minute drive and left it at that. Soon enough, you got a notification that a Spree car was on his way.

Driver: Kurt Kunkle.

Car: White Toyota Prius

As if you knew one car from the other. You waited for about ten minutes which would’ve been fine if Chester, the very person you had wanted to get away from, hadn’t followed you.

“Why’d you leave, huh? We were having fun weren’t we?”

Even though you tried to ignore him, he kept asking questions similar to the first. Grabbed your arm, which you pulled out of his grip immediately. Stepped in front of you whenever you turned away, it was infuriating and also a little scary. Having him stand this close to you made you shiver and it wasn’t even cold outside. You wore a light purple summer dress with pastel sneakers and a black jacket on top that you had only put on to cover yourself from his hungry eyes. Even at two in the morning the air was still humid.

Once the car arrived, you let go of a relieved sigh. The guy lowered his window and frowned as he spotted you both.

“Just you, right?” he asked you, turning his phone around to show you your own photo. You nodded. “Just me,” you said quickly. Chester shook his head and stopped forward.

“No, me as well. My silly girlfriend forgot to add me.” You quickly evaded the arm he tried to put around you.

“I’m not your girlfriend. Chester,” you hissed and you noticed that Kurt was listening to you attentively.

“Uhm, you’ll have to book one separately then,” Kurt told Chester. “You can go sit in the front.”

YOU NEVER LET SOMEONE SIT IN THE FRONT. WHAT IS THIS?!

Kurt’s eyes were upon you and you nodded hesitantly before walking over to the passenger side and getting in. Chester had sent a request by now which Kurt accepted and then told him to sit behind you.

“What’s wrong with the other side?”

“Someone vomited earlier today. You won’t smell it, but I wouldn’t want it to get on your clothes.”

“Alright, thanks dude. Hey, what’s up with all the cameras?”

You had noticed those too. You think you counted about six to eight cams, but it was dark so it was a little hard to be sure. Kurt smiled and pointed at his phone in front of him.

“I’m streaming for my fans! I’m kurtsworld96. You should follow me if you haven’t yet, there’s gonna be so much c-cool content!” His smile was a little reserved and almost shy. You smiled to yourself, relaxing a little now that you weren’t alone with Chester. However, once Kurt started to drive, you felt Chester’s hand glide up your leg from behind the chair, squeezing the fat of your thigh as he tried to pull your legs apart.

“Chester, stop it.”

LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE GETTING A PRIVATE SHOW KUNKIE

Kurt gnawed on his lip and sighed.

“No PDA in my car please.”

“Oh come on, what are you, a virgin?”

Kurt rolled his eyes.

“As you guys know I’m definitely not a virgin. I have a lot of experience with the P in V. But even if you haven’t, it’s okay guys. No need to feel embarrassed, it’s 2023, no one needs to lose their virginity at fourteen by a hooker because they lost a bet anymore.”

It took you a minute to realize he was talking to his audience.

“Jeez dude,” Chester laughed, “that’s so fucking specific you have to be talking from experience. Sorry dude.”

Not wasting more time, his hand pushed up under your jacket to fondle your boob and you pushed off his hand.

“Stop it! Please can we stop? I want to get out. Please keep him inside though.”

“Sorry ma’am, if I cancel the trip or change the route I might lose my five star streak. I can’t afford losing my five star streak. Sorry.”

At least he sounded mildly apologetic. Chester pulled back slightly but you knew it was only a matter of time before he would get his hands on you again.

“What do you guys think of this beat? Pretty cool right?” Kurt asked amidst an awkward silence. Chester snorted.

“If you like trash.”

“It’s nice,” you countered. Kurt smiled at you quickly before his eyes focused on the road again.

“I made it myself!”

“These are nice,” Chester mumbled as he tried to grab your thighs again.

“Chester I swear to—”

DO SOMETHING ALREADY, THIS IS BORING

“There’s free water in the back, by the way,” Kurt announced matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t just interrupt you. You weren’t thirsty, at all, but once again Chester removed his hands which was a blessing.

“If you think I’ll pretend I like your beats because you offered me free water, you’re mistaken,” Chester shrugged as he grabbed a bottle. “You want some babe?”

“No.”

A frown deepened on your face when you realized you weren’t the only one who declined. Kurt however, remained a neutral expression.

“Weirdo,” Chester mumbled under his breath as he twisted the cap and took a sip.

“Wait… where are we?” you asked softly. Only now you realized that you were driving on a dirt road, not a building in sight.

“Oh, this is a quicker route. Lots of roadblocks recently.”

It was them when Chester started to have a coughing fit, one that seemed unstoppable. You didn’t bother to turn around, found any sound coming out of him extremely annoying as it was. Suddenly, he clawed at your shoulders as he gasped for air.

SHE IS NOT GONNA LIKE YOU KILLING HER FRIEND KURTLE

“They’re not even friends,” Kurt mumbled. You barely heard Kurt’s comment as you turned around to tell Chester to cut it out. However once you laid eyes upon him you noticed he was grasping his neck, already turning a little blue. Blindly you reached for Kurt’s shoulder, who grabbed the steering wheel a little tighter.

“He’s not well, I think he’s choking! Kurt? Stop the car!” It seemed as if Kurt wasn’t even listening to you. He hummed along to the beat, drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and seemed to laugh softly after checking his phone. Your pleas fell on deaf ears. As much as you despised Chester, you didn’t exactly wish the guy dead or anything!

Chester grasped Kurt’s shoulder but soon fell back against the backseat unconscious without Kurt even moving an inch.

“Should’ve listened when I said no PDA. Should’ve stopped touching her.” Kurt sighed, sounding a little tired even. You watched Kurt silently as you heard him thank a viewer for a tip they gave him.

“Hell yeah kittycat69, human rights. Justice for women.”

A repeating sound signaled he was receiving more tips.

“Thanks guys, means a lot. And hey, if you haven’t yet, subscribe to my youtube account as well! It’s under the same name, kurtsworld96. See you there!”

You slowly removed your gaze from Kurt and looked back at Chester. Was he… unconscious or…? You decided to ask, although you found yourself stumbling over the easiest words.

“Did you— Did— Is he?!”

Kurt gave you a sideway glance.

“Dead? Yeah.”

“H-How?!” You glanced at the bottle next to Chester’s limp hand and slowly sat back in your seat, eyes on Kurt’s much too calm expression, considering he just murdered someone.

“The water… that’s why you said no?”

Kurt nodded.

“Yup. You were nice,” he responded casually, adding even the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Do you always kill people who aren’t?!” you asked incredulously. Kurt shrugged indifferently, spared you a short glance again. He always averted his eyes when you met them. You were honestly wondering how you even managed to look him in the eye right now. A murderer. You were in the passenger seat of a murderer. It made you wonder why you hadn’t even bothered to try and open the door. Maybe because you felt frozen in place, or maybe because somehow, you didn’t feel threatened just yet. Very confusing, considering the dead body behind you.

“Sometimes. It’s good for the views.”

“You kill people… for views?! How do you even get away with that?”

Kurt said nothing. Just took a turn towards what seemed to become an even more off-road journey than you had already been on.

DO SOMETHING JEEZ

“I’m going to die too, huh?” you asked softly. Kurt stilled his drumming fingers for a moment, glanced at you again and you found his gaze lingering when you looked away first this time.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Kurt mumbled softly. He sighed to himself and opened a pack of gum with one hand.

“Want one?”

“No thanks.” After the water, you couldn’t risk it.

Kurt shrugged and popped a piece of gum in his own mouth and put the rest back into his pocket. Oh. So not everything in this car was murderous, huh.

MAKE HER CRY

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to kill me?”

“No, I don’t want to make you cry. My fans want me to make you cry.”

“Oh.”

HOW ABOUT YOU FINISH WHAT HE STARTED?

“What are they saying now?” you asked, unable to hide your curiosity about what those twisted people were on about.

“They say I should finish what he started.”

When you automatically made yourself smaller and tried to move your body as far away from him as possible, he shook his head.

“I’m not going to, that’s insane.”

You choked out a dry laugh.

“That’s… interesting coming from someone who just murdered someone.”

“That’s justice! Hurting you wouldn’t be justice.”

Words failed to come to mind, so you tried to focus on how to get out of this situation alive. You didn’t think you really stood a chance, if you were honest. Kurt was unpredictable. Didn’t even blink when he offered Chester the water. There was no way to anticipate his next move.

You had no idea where you were when Kurt stopped the car and looked at you.

“Don’t move.”

YOU SHOULD HAVE PRETENDED TO LET HER GO AND MAKE HER RUN FOR HER LIFE. THAT’S A SHOW WE WANT TO SEE

Your eyes remained closed as you listened to Kurt dragging out Chester’s body and dumping it somewhere. There was no way you could stomach any of it and maybe, if your eyes were closed, you didn’t have to add another handful of traumatic images to your memory. For as long as you’d have said memory at least.

When Kurt joined you back in the car again he drove off right away. There was a prolonged moment of silence until Kurt turned on some other, calmer music.

WHEN ARE YOU GONNA KILL HER? I HAVE WORK TOMORROW

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I want to but… I don’t know what else to do.”

MAKE HER YOUR BITCH

“Stop with the condescending talk, man, that’s so uncool. You gotta have respect if you want respect.”

YOU’RE A PUSSY. CAN’T EVEN GET LAID UNLESS ITS A HOOKER, LOSER

“I’M NOT— I’m not a loser.” Kurt said, breathing heavily. His hands shook a little and for whatever miraculous reason, you felt bad for him.

“Why do you even like this stuff if they’re all so mean?” you asked. You had tuned in on your phone on silent to see the comments. If Kurt thought you’d call for help, it surely didn’t bother him. Or maybe he happened to have incredible insight into human behavior and knew you weren’t going to call anyone. Maybe he knew you didn’t have much to lose, just like he did.

“I want to do something meaningful. You know, make a name for myself. I thought I’d do something like a day in the life of a Spree driver but everyone found it boring. And most people I get in my car are rude, so I thought, win-win, right? I kill them for justice, and I get views. But they’re still saying it’s boring. No one really watches my youtube videos though. I think most views are just me. I don’t want to buy views because I want to be authentic. T-The real Kurt. It took me a while to find him, you know? Kurt.”

YOU’RE DEPRESSING STOP THE LIVE

MAKES ME WANNA GAUGE MY EYES OUT AND STAB MY EARDRUMS

YOU’RE SO LAME LOSERBOY

(Y/N) just followed you

Kurt turned his head to the side, eyes wide with shock. This was the most emotion you’d seen on him aside from his earlier slip up.

“Y-You followed me?”

“Yeah. Sounds like you just need a little support,” you mumbled. You meant it. As twisted as everything he was doing was, you could sense that he wasn’t inherently bad. He wasn’t a psychopath, rather than a broken guy with no support system. Blame it on your savior complex, but the line you usually reserved for fictional characters, you just applied to him. I could fix him.

Not fix him entirely, probably. But maybe, maybe if you showed him kindness, he could see that there were more ways to achieve his goals than resort to horrible measures. It was difficult to explain and if you ever made it out of this car alive, you probably wouldn’t tell a soul. You just wanted to try.

“Thanks, that means a lot, Y/N! Will you watch my videos?”

“I’ll watch them all if I… well, survive.”

THIS IS THE WEIRDEST LIVE I’VE EVER BEEN ON

SO FUCKING DESPERATE

SHE’S JUST SAYING SHIT SO YOU DON’T KILL HER

KILL HER ALREADY

DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE IN LOOOOVE LOSERBOY

FUCK HER THEN KILL HER

OR KILL HER THEN FUCK HER

Kurt read through all the comments and bit his lip hard enough for it to bleed. You stayed silent as you read along, noticed the many insults he received and the twisted things people wanted him to do while they probably sat in the comfort of their own bedroom, unaffected. Suddenly, the screen went black.

kurtsworld96 ended the livestream

When you looked up, he was already looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. He seemed to struggle with what to say, which seemed surprising with how talkative he seemed earlier, talking about his dreams.

“You stopped the live?” you asked softly, unsure what was going to happen now. Kurt nodded, averted his eyes again.

“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“I think there are some things… that I don’t want everyone to see.”

Before you could ask what he meant, you felt his warm hand enclose yours. He was a little sweaty, even. You froze, but he made no move to do anything else. Hesitantly, you moved your hand around, making him flinch and nearly pull his hand away until he felt your hand gently squeeze his. There was no way this was normal, but then again, had you ever been normal? Kurt relaxed in his seat, his thumb moving to caress your hand in silence. You allowed yourself to take a good look at him. His dark brown hair, though it could use some styling, framed his face nicely after running his hand through it. His lips a rosy pink. Eyes a warm hazel.

There was something about him and for some reason, you wanted more.

#kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle x fem!reader #kurt kunkle x y/n #joe keery

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cospple · 7 months ago

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Fuckin Cospple Mpreg Fic

TWs: Workplace harrassment, mild violence, mention of pills (painkillers), mention of a shitty childhood (COSTCOS PARENTS NEED TO GO INTO THE SOUP), pregnancy discussion, vomit mention(doesnt go into detail!!!)

Wordcount: 1,406

Author note: i can't believe i actually wrote this.

According to all known laws of biology, there is no way Costco should be able to get pregnant.

His body does not physically have the capabilities to get pregnant.

The writer, of course, writes Costco mpreg anyways. Because the writer doesn’t care about the laws of nature.

[20XX. Years after Costco and Apple got together, they’re both adults now and happily dating.]

“Honeyyy,” Costco announced in a sing-songy voice, yawning from their bed, he’d just woken up. Apple was already up and cooking, the early riser she is. “I feel.. Sick. Can you grab me some pain meds?”

Apple ducked into their room, hair in a ponytail and signature overalls. She hasn’t changed a bit.

“Jeez, do I gotta do everything for you or what costs?” A stupid nickname ended her sentence. It still made Costco melt every time he heard it. She was teasing ofcourse, as she quickly returned with pills and a sip of water, handing them to her partner.

As he took the pills he felt something urch in his stomach and he flew out of bed and to the toilet.

Heaved over the porcelain throne he— i think I’m gonna skip writing this part. You guys understand. He vommied.

A little under an hour later, Costco is tucked into bed with a trash can near his bed and a heat pad on his lap, Apple sitting by his side quietly.

“Well, shit.” Apple mumbled, staring and the third and fourth positive pregnancy tests in her hand. And they weren’t hers.

They had both called in sick from work, but that was the least of Apple's worries. She excused herself and said she needed to make a call, as Apple stepped out of the room Costco grumbled in agreement.

What really confused Apple is that they hadn’t.. done anything to get either pregnant. And Apple certainly didn’t have the hardware to get someone pregnant! Costco doesn’t have the hardware to get pregnant! What the fuck all around! So her boyfriend is curled over in their bed, with APPLES emergency heating pad and vomit bucket when her periods get bad. She sighed and scheduled a doctor's visit on her phone.

It’s been a few days. Costco Costco Costco is still grappling with the side effects of being.. pregnant? dying? having the black plague? Atleast today they should finally find out what’s wrong with him. Apple is driving them to the doctors office. Costco is curled over and whimpering.

He wasn’t prepared for how bad this hurt. His stomach hurt, his head hurt. It felt like he was being stabbed in his.. everywhere. All the time.

Most of all he was confused. How did this happen? It’s not like he was sleeping around. And even if he was.. To put it plainly he shouldn’t have a uterus.

Finally. He crawled out of the car and Apple walked beside him. They entered the office and what felt like hours later got checked in and into the room with the doctor. The only thing keeping him from exploding was some sassy girl named Kate arguing with him. He found that fun in a way. Once they got inti the office, Costco was in entirely too much pain to talk right now, plus the internalized toxic masculinity within him would never let him say the words ‘i think i’m pregnant.’

Apple spoke up after a few minutes of small talk.

“I know it sounds insane, doctor. But we’re worried my boyfriend is pregnant? And that shouldn't be possible seeing he has NO genitalia that should allow him to do this. We took many pregnancy tests, all were positive. We just needed to see you.” As Apple rambled the doctor noted things down and before he knew it Costco was getting ready for an ultra sound. Not only was this emasculating, the thought that having a baby didn't exactly scare Costco was.. Terrifying.

Don't get me wrong, he does NOT want to be pregnant. Giving birth sounds HORRIFYING. But.. Raising a child? Naming them, raising them.. That sounded alright?? That's what scared him. Growing up, Costco’s family was interested in two things: Getting rich, and getting more children to help them get rich. His sisters were basically matched up as soon as they turned eighteen and Costco was only spared cause his parents were ashamed of him.

This whole, live to breed breed to live mindset was what Costco was getting away from his whole life. He wanted nothing if not to be.. Not like his parents. Apple and him had talked when they got more serious, neither of them were interested in children. At least back then.

The one thing he was scared of. Being like his parents. Was what he was doing. THAT it what was scary about this whole thing for Costc–

“You’re.. Pregnant.” The doctor mumbled, dumbfoundedly. “WHAT?!-” rang out from Apple and Costco in sync.

“That,” the doctor pointed at the ultrasound screen. “Is clearly a child. Somehow. I.. Would you like to know the gender?”

A few hours after Costco and Apple made the discovery. Apple is calling her boss for maternity leave.

Apple presses the call button tentatively. Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Yeelllllow. Kayden Matteson here whatcha need sweetheart.” Kayden coughed out, already sounding three bottles too deep

His voice got on Apples nerves so badly, he sounds like he hasn’t showered in a month.

“Hi! Mr Matteson, i was wondering if we could discuss some paid time off? I’m having some personal issues and i know Matteson Farming has maternity leave–”

“OH Appleeee. iiii am actually not available for business talk right now. Schedule a meeting if its that importantuhhh.”

“Oh- alright? Does tommorow work? We can meet over lunch i guess.”

“Sounds good dolllll meet me at noon. Panera’s restaurant.”

GOD does she hate him. Always drunk, always hitting on coworkers, always insulting other coworkers. Rot in hell Cayden. She hangs up.

When tommorow at noon comes, Apple gets ready, says farewell to Costco and is off. The farmer and the ceo make small talk for awhile and then Apple brings up the question of time off.

“What? No. Apple you know we’re having a hard time right now. You can work from home but that's it.” He announced, shaking his head.

“I know, but my partner and i–” As Apple rushed to get a word in she was rudely interrupted

“You’re always on about that partner, blah blah blah. You know you'd be cuter if you jusr shut up and smiled more, right?”

“I really don't appreciate that comment, Mr Matteson. Can we continue discussing time off?”

“Yeaahhh no. I’m the boss, deal with it pretty lady. Work from home.”

“Don’t call me pretty lady, please.”

“Make me, pretty lady.”

“Sir, this really isn't appropriate.”

Cayden moved his hand to hold hers and she flinched away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Did i hit a nerve, darling?”

Smack. And then Apple stood up. And Cayden stayed sitting. With a dazed look on his face– aswell as a hand print.

“This is bull. I quit.”

Apple comes home, drops her keys on the counter and breathes a sigh of relief. Home.

Costco ducks out of their room and gently hugs her.

“Apple, love. Can we talk?”

Apple nods. She's had a hard day but she’ll be in the grave before she discourages communication.

“Course. What do you need?” They both sit on the couch and Costco takes a deep breathe.

“Okay. So. I know before we talked about not wanting kids. And it's fine if you still don't. But.. Thinking about raising this kid. With you. Makes me feel warm inside.. Fuzzy. A feeling that, for an alpha like me, used to be unfamiliar. I’m terrified of giving birth, but i want to experience this with you if you're ready.”

It took Apple a few seconds to process that.

“i haven't really thought about actually keeping this child. I.. I never really had feelings about children. If i end up having children, you're the one i want to do it with Costs. I’ll have to think about it. If this is something you really want, ill make sure to give it time and effort.” She took a deep breath out and waited for a response. Costco simply wrapped his arms around her.

This is new, and scary, and hard and scary for both of them. But they're gonna stay together. Through it all.

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fandomwe1rd0 · 7 months ago

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"Maybe I'm the one who's nuts..." A Rick and Morty angst songfic

You're so annoying, you pitiful old man

I was sleeping in my bed, or at least trying. But it was hard, I could hear unsure footsteps. I could hear the light-switch click, 3 times. Click, click, click. I opened my eyes, blinking quickly, my eyes burning from the sudden brightness. It was Rick. Aw jeez...what did he want this time? He sat next to my bed "Hey Mortttyyy how...how are y-*burp*-ou how...how's it going my little buddy?" I groaned, seriously Rick? You want to have a casual chat right now? He knows I have a test tomorrow! "Rick, can I just go back to bed? I have a t-test tomorrow..." Rick laughed "Awww you don't...you don't gotta worry about that babyyyy...Gr-grandpa...y-your...grandpa will take you out you don't...you don't gotta worry about some stupid test buddy...." Seriously? How can he have so little self-awareness?! Why the hell won't he just leave me alone?! I couldn't stop the words from spilling out of my mouth "Rick, I don't want you to drag me out of school! I want to try to take the test!" Rick smiled, rubbing my hair. I huffed, but continued letting him mess with my hair. Hating myself how I melted under his touch.

"You're so pathetic." My inner voice insulted. It was right...

"It is o- It's okayyyyyy." Rick slurred out "Y-you don't need schoolllll, Mortyyyy, you've got a bright future as grandpa's little helppeeeerrrr." I couldn't hold back. "I don't want to be your helper for the rest of my life Rick!" Rick removed his hand from my brown curls, jolting back like he got a bucket of ice cold water splashed on him. Maybe I was a little too harsh on him...I looked down, fidgeting with with my fingers as I shifted. Biting my lip hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood filling my mouth as I stopped myself for immediately apologizing.

"Oh wow, you finally grew some balls and are going to backpedal on it now? Nicceee jobbbb." I could hear my inner voice taunting. I could basically hear it's slow claps even though it didn't have hands. "You're such a little bitch." It stated.

I clenched my fists into the sheets. I would prove it wrong! I can be strong! I can stop myself from being a little bitch! "I want to try to take the test and fail! I want to go to high-school football games and laugh whenever someone gets hurt! I want to cheer when my team gets a point! I want to kiss and date girls! I don't want to be your lapdog Rick!" Rick stared at me for a few seconds. The smile on his face now a frown. His unibrow upturned. "Mo-" Then he vomited and passed out, the rancid smell attacked my nostrils and I flinched. His vomit was on my bed, green carpet, and blue solar system carpet. I sighed as I cleaned it, seeing Rick's face on my carpet while the rest of his body was on my bed. I picked up his face and put it on my bed to avoid all the blood flowing to his head.

"Look at you, you're a good little sidekick, aren't you?" My inner voice whispered harshly.

I clenched my jaw as I laid in my bed, bending my legs behind me to give Rick space as I cried softly because my inner voice wouldn't shut up.

I'd like to help you, but I don't know if I can

I went in the garage, I immediately forgot what I was going to say when I saw Rick drinking again. Beer cans littered the garage floor. The strong scent of alcohol hit me like a punch to the face. Why...why does he have to drink so much? "R-Rick do you need to drink this much?"

"Wowwwww nice job being subtle genius..." My inner voice sarcastically congratulated.

Rick glared at me, his eyes burning a hole in me. I felt a shiver involuntary run up my spine. "Is that any of your business?" I gulped "I-I just.." "I got a new liver yesterday." "It's not about that-" "Then what-" "I don't like seeing you drink!" I slapped my hand over my mouth. My breath hitched. "I-I..." Rick stayed quiet, his eyes softening for a split second before they got replaced by his usual scowl. "It doesn't matter if you like it or not." Rick cornered me, towering over me. I looked up at him with wide eyes, I hoped the fear didn't show in them. But I couldn't help the tremble that wrapped around me like a blanket.

"Fucking pussy..." My inner voice spat up.

"It doesn't matter what" Rick's finger poked my sternum with a roughness that was sure to bruise "you like." Rick growled lowly, an unmistakable venom in his voice. "Because Grandpa is an adult that can do whatever he wants." Rick leaned over, looking down at me "And Mortys are sidekicks that. stay. In. Their. Lane." Rick continued poking my sternum, punctuating each word. He pushed me with just enough force to send me back. "Now go." I didn't need to be told twice. I ran out of the garage with a fastness that took me for a loop.

I thought you were nuts

I was walking at school then I felt a sharp tug on my arm, sending a quick jolt of pain through me. "Ouch!" Then I was greeted with the musty odor of cheap alcohol. "C'mon Morty, we go-*burp* we gotta go!" "Rickkk!" I felt a flush hit my cheeks when I noticed how whiny my voice sounded.

"God you're so fucking whiny. What a brat." My inner voice shamed.

I looked down, tears stinging my eyes as the blush on my cheeks deepened. I pushed it down. Replacing my sadness with anger, just like Rick taught me in the 6 years I've known him. "I don't want to go!" Rick groaned "Don't be fucking difficult, Morty." I yanked my arm away from him, stomping

"Like a fucking bratty kid at a supermarket."

I tried my best to hide how much the voice was affecting me. "I'm staying here!"

Rick ranted "School doesn't even matter Morty! It doesn't teach you anything about real life! All it does is make you sit a room with a bunch of sweaty teenagers who are all in some stupid-" Another one of his rants. He doesn't care what I want. All he does is look at everything through a purely logical point of view. Not caring what I think. I laughed with an edge, clutching my hair. "You really don't care what I want do you?" Rick stopped in his tracks, blinking while looking at me, his body going rigid. "It doesn't matter if I genuinely enjoy school...it doesn't matter if I just don't want to go on the traumatizing adventures, all that matters is you. And what you want. Of fucking course." "Morty-" "Fuck you." I spat out. Walking away, ignoring what he was saying.

"You're going to run right back to him, aren't you?"

I sighed as I knew that I would.

I always would...

But you're really, really, really, nuts

Rick dragged me on another adventure, and, long story short, we were flying away from aliens, I was breathing heavily as Rick made me work the laser, my heart pounding in my chest and my hands shakier than an unstable skyscraper. After I burst through a wall and got pushed back into the seat, finally, finally safe, Rick was laughing. "That was fucking awesome!" Sweat was all around me, making me feel all wet and gross. "Th-that was terrifying!" Rick scoffed and waved his hand "It's not a bi-*burp*-g deal, don't be a pussy." I was hyperventilating "We nearly died!" Rick slapped my back with a shit-eating grin. "Calm down Morty, you're overreacting. To live is to risk it all." I gripped the sides of my seats with a chain-link grip. "Whatever." I let out, doing nothing to hide the cracking in my voice.

"You're so fucking weak. So pathetic, Rick is right, you're overreacting." My inner voice confirmed.

But Rick didn't care.

He never did...

Every time I move eventually you find me and start hanging around

I sat down on the couch and Rick sat next to me, putting his feet on the table. "What dumb shit are you watching?" he asked casually. I passed the remote to him. Rick threw an arm around me and smiled "Awww what's wrong, you don't want to tell your good ol' grandpa what you're watching?" I rolled my eyes, hating how my body was relaxing into his touch without my permission. "Just take it." He took it and set up ball fondlers.

"Why do you even come see me when you're not going on adventures?" I thought aloud. My body tensing once I realized what I said.

"God you're such a pathetic little lapdog." My inner voice degraded.

Rick's eyes darted towards me before going back to the TV "Because I'm fuck-*burp*-ing bored."

I felt a drop in my stomach as I mumbled "I knew it..."

Just another lame excuse to see me man, it's getting me down.

Rick grabbed onto my arm "C'mon. I need to get a screwdriver from Home De-*burp*-pot." I looked at him "Uhm...so why did you need me for it?" "I need some-*burp*-one to carry groceries." What? Groceries? He needs me to carry one screwdriver "Groceries...? Aren't you just getting one screwdriver?" I saw Rick's arm raise as his body stiffened "I also need some to grab the things I can't reach." I tilted my head "But...you have robot arms...you can just grab them yourself...you don't need me to do it." Rick just huffed "Just c'mon Morty! Stop asking dumb questions!" I put my hands up defensively "Ok!"

Y'know I'm actually glad to see you.

I was sitting on the couch and saw Rick finally leaving the garage. My head instinctively perked up, just a second later, my face flushed with searing hot shame. Ugh, all he does is drag me on dangerous adventures, how the hell did I actually get excited to see him? Ugh...maybe he's not the crazy one...

Maybe I'm one who's nuts...

#rick #and #morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rick and morty #rick c137 #songfic #angst #heavy angst

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sixhours · 5 months ago

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bright spots - chapter 9

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Teen Words: 2.2k Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Marlene, canon divergence, hospital AU, medical stuff, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, vomiting, implied rape/sexual assault, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Joel

The days pass in a long string of blood draws, scans, and biopsies. Joel doesn’t pretend to understand it, but the procedures are relatively simple and painless, so he stands by, willing to take Ellie’s lead. She remains riveted by the process and asks the kinds of questions Joel wouldn’t think to ask but probably should. Sometimes the techs humor her, show her how the equipment works, even let her look through a microscope occasionally. Sarah always walked away from her doctor visits with a lollipop or a sticker for her trouble, but Ellie is content with a science lesson and an arm covered in dinosaur band-aids.

These procedures take a couple hours at most, and the rest of the time they’re left to their own devices. On this particular afternoon, he’s keeping an eye on her while she plays in the hall, spinning in her “spinny chair.”

“Not cleanin’ up your puke, kid,” he reminds her as she kicks off again, leveraging one hand on the wall to build up speed.

“As if, old man. I have an iron stomach.”

After much trial and error and application of the scientific process (Ellie’s words), she’s determined this particular chair spins the fastest for the longest. After enough spins, she’ll stagger over and flop onto the floor at his feet, breathing hard and riding the natural high that comes from being a human centrifuge.

Eventually she wanders back to the chair, climbs aboard, and kicks off again. He dozes. It’s not a deep sleep; more of a drift, something that happens now. The concussion and the stress have turned his sleep patterns inside out. The boredom doesn’t help. He only has two books, one old paperback he picked up on the road and the western Ellie found in the box of waiting room leftovers, and he’s read them both twice. He’s half tempted to crack open one of those romance novels, but he’ll hold out; Ellie would never let him hear the end of it.

When he blinks awake, she’s not there, and the chair is still.

“Ellie?”

No answer. His book slides from his lap to the floor and he walks toward the nearest room, peeks in. Nothing.

“Ellie?”

He’s brought back to a crowded supermarket, a much younger child, a panicky bird in his chest as he trawled the aisles looking for a familiar curly brown head and a bright purple windbreaker. He’d found her, of course, unharmed. The real tragedy would come a decade later, but at the time, those thirty seconds felt like the start of the end of the world.

“Ellie! Where the–”

He rounds the corner at the end of the hall and almost bowls her over. She frowns up at him.

“Jeez, dude–”

He’s breathing hard, heart pounding harder. “Was callin’ you.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know, but–”

“It’s my fault,” a guard pipes up, and Joel’s gaze snaps to her, a woman he hadn’t noticed in his panic. She’s young, couldn’t be more than thirty, in the usual fatigues, short dark hair and brown eyes. “I know the boss doesn’t want us getting involved, but–”

“So don’t,” Joel says, not-too-subtly inserting himself between them.

“Dude, don’t be an asshole. She’s cool,” Ellie says.

He turns on her, gives her a look.

“It’s fine,” the guard says. “I just…wanted to give her this.”

Joel narrows his eyes just as Ellie practically shoves him aside. “For me?”

“There’s a daycare on the other side of campus,” the woman says, shrugs, taking something out of her pocket. “We patrol there sometimes. Not much to see, but found these in a drawer…”

It’s a simple box of crayons, a big red 24 printed on the front. The box itself is dusty and faded but the wax inside looks brand-new. From the look on Ellie’s face, he’d think she’d been handed the keys to the kingdom.

“Sweet! Whoa, I’ve never seen them, like, new before. All the ones at my school were trash.”

Ellie opens the box and slides out a bright eggshell blue crayon. Without waiting, she darts across the hall to a blank section of wall and starts to draw on it. Joel opens his mouth to stop her, has a clear vision of Sarah doing the same exact thing when she was little, their freshly painted living room adorned with scribbles, remembers the reprimand that followed– we color on paper, not walls –but these sad, crumbling halls can only be improved in Ellie’s hands.

What the hell , he decides. He lets her be.

“I have a kid,” the guard says softly, startling him out of his thoughts.

Joel’s jaw tightens. “Good for you.”

He’s using what Ellie likes to call his asshole voice but the woman doesn’t seem to notice or care, because she keeps talking.

“He’s only three. Lives back in the Tucson QZ…with my mom.”

He wants to say he didn’t ask, doesn’t care, grinds his teeth on the words. The woman looks up at him seriously and he shifts on his feet, eager for this conversation to end. She gestures toward Ellie, still testing her new crayons on the drywall.

“I’m grateful for her. For what she’s doing for us. My son…will grow up in a better world because of her.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, all he can think to say.

“You’re her father?”

He winces. Ellie doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t correct her.

…not my daughter, sure as hell ain’t your…

“She’s mine,” he says, softening a little.

“Then you know,” she murmurs. “You understand. We’d do anything…to make it better. The sacrifice—“

“Would you let him do it?” he cuts her off flatly. “If it was your kid. Let him stay stuck in this hellhole for weeks with a buncha nurses stickin’ him? Testing him?”

“I–I don’t–”

“S’what I thought,” he scoffs, lip curling in a sneer. “Y’all love to talk about sacrifice ‘til it’s one of yours.”

The woman blinks, taken aback. Joel decides he’s had enough.

“C’mon, kid,” he says, going to Ellie and tugging lightly on her sleeve. “Sure this lady has…Firefly shit to get to.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, but she comes willingly enough.

“Oh! Thanks for these,” she says, holding up the box.

“It’s Lee,” the guard says, finding her voice again. “My name is Lee.”

“Later, Lee,” Ellie grins.

“Herrera!” a uniformed voice barks from down the hall. “ No hables con la rata de laboratorio. ”

Joel’s head snaps around. He’s heard this shit before, catches snippets of their conversations and bites his tongue. They think they’re being clever, but at this point he’s out of patience.

“ Ten cuidado, cabrón, ” Joel snarls.

The guard’s eyes go wide; almost as wide as Ellie’s, now watching him with rapt fascination, mouth hanging open.

“Dude–”

“Not now,” he mutters.

“ ¡Vete a la chingada ,” Lee fires back easily. “Enjoy the crayons. See you around, kid.”

Ellie

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Ellie hisses when they’re back around the corner.

Joel glances at her stonily as he urges them back to their room. “What was what?”

“Was that–was that Spanish ?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You speak Spanish? Since when?”

“‘Bout since I could speak,” he says, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. His headaches come and go, and normally she’d back off in the interests of letting him rest, but this new development is too good to let go just yet.

“How–when did you–are you, like, Mexican or something? Does Tommy speak Spanish, too?”

“M’not Mexican, and yeah, sure he does.”

“Why the fuck haven’t I heard it before?”

“‘Cause it’s rude to do what those assholes did back there.”

“Oh, sure, now you’re all Miss Manners,” she says, rolling her eyes. “What’d they say?”

“Nothin’ I’m gonna repeat.”

Ugh, he can be so fucking frustrating. He’s like one of those puzzles in the school rec room, more missing pieces than not. Just when Ellie thinks she’s got a handle on him, she learns something new. At this point it wouldn’t surprise her if he told her he used to be a traveling magician or a lion tamer or some shit.

“Well now you have to teach me,” she tries, nudging him.

“Oh yeah?”

He sinks into the chair in their room and looks at her with tired eyes.

“Yeah! How do you say ‘Joel is an asshole’?”

She grins. She’s needling him now, she knows, but she’s pretty sure he loves it. He sits back and looks at her with a smirk.

“ Joel es el mejor. ”

“Hole es el may-hor? Sounds like you’re the mayor.”

“Your pronunciation needs work,” he says drily.

“Dude, we have like, a million years to practice here. C’mon–”

“Tell you what,” he sighs. “When we’re back in Jackson…we’ll talk about it. Maybe we can find a book or somethin’. Think they have a library.”

She can’t help but notice how exhausted he looks. Does he ever fucking sleep? And now he’s wincing and rubbing his temples the way he does when he has a headache. She feels a sliver of guilt for ditching him earlier.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” she says. Then, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, she pulls out her new crayons. “These are so fucking cool. Think I’m gonna draw for a while.”

He nods, still pinching his brow.

“Y’know, if you wanted to lay down…I won’t, like, wander off or whatever.” He arches an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “I mean it, dude. I’ll stay put.”

“I’m fine, kiddo.”

She shrugs and returns to admiring her crayons. She wasn’t joking when she told him she’s never seen new ones before. The crayons at FEDRA school came in industrial bags, molding and rotted and worn to stubs, and they often had to sift through dead bugs and trash to find the right color. One time, Riley found a rat’s leg bone in hers. That was kinda cool, at least.

But these have points and edges and they even kinda smell good—earthy and sweet. There are so many colors to choose from, not mottled or dulled by time, and they’re all hers to do with as she pleases. It’s a fucking fortune.

Lacking paper, she goes to the box of old magazines and grabs one. The fresh wax color glides cleanly over the glossy pages, and Ellie finds herself sketching over old articles about fat burning (weird) and sex positions (weirder) and eyelash extensions (really fucking weird). When she gets bored with that, she doodles on the models in the pictures, adding flowers, mustaches, silly patterns on their eyes and cheeks and noses.

She watches out of the corner of her eye as Joel tries not to doze, snapping his head up every once in a while when he inevitably does. Finally, she closes the magazine and reaches over to nudge him on the shoulder, waking him.

“Dude, you’re gonna fall over and hit your head again. Go the fuck to bed.”

He rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah…alright.”

To her surprise, he gets up and shuffles over to his cot without argument.

“Wake me up if someone comes in, alright? I mean it.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, popping off a salute. This earns her a tired side-eye, so she relents. “I will. Promise.”

Within minutes, Joel is flat on his back and snoring.

Stubborn asshole , she thinks, but she’s biting her lip on a smile, can’t help but feel a rush of fondness. It’s unfamiliar the way everything else is lately, but…something about him saying it outright makes the unfamiliarity more bearable.

You’re with me. Alright?

She’s never been claimed like that. Never belonged to someone. She knows Joel would go to the ends of the earth to protect her, he’s even said he cares about her, but that’s…just Joel. She’s not even sure he knows he’s doing it half the time. And it’s not exactly the same as belonging.

She picks up another magazine and flips through the pages until she finds something interesting. Grabbing the crayons, she starts adding details, sketching lightly at first to try things, then layering on more color. She works with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, brow furrowed in concentration, and by the time she’s done, her hands ache with how tightly she’s gripped the wax sticks and her neck is stiff from bowing over the page. But she sits back and looks over the results with a sense of satisfaction.

The original photo–some ad for soap, from what she can tell, a sunrise over a field of flowers–is almost completely obscured by her drawing. The shadow of two figures on horseback set against the glow, surrounded by a mass of snaking vines and tendrils.

Mindful not to tear it, she rips the page from the magazine and tiptoes over to Joel’s cot, placing it on his chest for when he wakes up. An apology of sorts for sneaking away, or maybe a thank you for…everything else. She’s not sure.

When he wakes and finds the picture, he’ll look at it for a long time, and when he tries to talk he’ll get a little choked up, and she’ll make a dumb joke about his age to defuse the tension. He’ll say something like, “That’s real nice, kiddo,” and he’ll figure out how to hang it up in their room so the walls are a little less gray, and he’ll do the same thing with every single picture after that. And she’ll roll her eyes and mutter whatever and pretend it doesn’t mean everything.

#tlou fanfic #joel and ellie fanfiction #joel and ellie #joel miller #ellie williams

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stevishabitat · 1 year ago

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33 Things People Don't Realize You're Doing Because of Migraine

So, in partnership with The Daily Migraine, we asked their community as well as our Mighty community to share things other people don’t realize they’re doing because of migraine. Maybe some of these will sound familiar to you, too.

Here’s what the communities shared with us:

1. “Wearing sunglasses indoors. It’s not to act like a rock star, far from it.”

2. “Communicate through texts because talking and holding a conversation hurts. With texting I don’t have to respond immediately. I can also just type ‘migraine’ and they get it.”

3. “Refuse to get out of bed (for which I get called lazy, when I’m really just in too much pain and too nauseous to move).”

4. “I look like I’m fluffing my hair, scratching my head or adjusting my ponytail, but I’m really just trying to relieve pressure on my head. Sometimes I hold my nose because I smell things so intensely. I do so many things that probably make people think I’m odd, but they’re just coping mechanisms.”

5. “I get really cranky, and people might think I’m being mean. It just hurts to listen or talk. It’s not something you did, it’s just my head.”

6. “I pause for an unusually long time because the word I’m trying to say has escaped me.”

7. “Pretty much everything I do is calculated risk. I choose to do something, and I have to weigh the odds that I may end up with a migraine afterwards.”

8. “Blankets over all the windows. My dad came over the other day and said ‘Jeez, you live like a vampire,’ and I could only shrug. Not by choice, Dad. I miss open windows and sunshine.”

9. “Not eating. Not many people outside of the chronic illness/migraine world understand how much migraines affect your whole entire body. It can make you vomit or, if you’re like me, it can make you feel just nauseous enough that you won’t throw up but you can’t hardly eat or drink a single thing for a day or two without making it so much worse.”

10. “I slouch. Sitting straight up hurts my neck, because my head feels heavy. People always say, ‘Sit up straight, posture’s important.’ I can’t all the time, and sometimes people judge.”

11. “Looking unkempt because I don’t want to touch my hair or face. Appearing lazy because the fatigue is intense.”

12. “I go for walks a lot while at work. I work under fluorescent lights and in front of a computer screen, so my only real option is to get out of the building and stop looking at the screen under the fluorescent lights. Plus, I can’t usually go home sick because quite frankly I have a migraine 24/7.”

13. “Pillow over my face no matter how dark it is in my room. Sometimes I’ll just hide under my blankets. Oftentimes I will feel so sick from just turning over in bed or walking to the washroom. I can’t even handle candlelights when I’m at my worst.”

14. “Move very slowly, kind of frozen and unresponsive. Blank unfocused stare.”

15. “I’m sure [people] don’t realize I drink 90 oz. of water as fast as possible to stay on top of the pain. [They] probably just think I’m extra thirsty… So many weird rituals when you are a migrainista like me.”

16. “I angle myself so the other person is blocking the light source during a conversation, especially if we’re outside in the sun.”

17. “Hold hands with my husband so I don’t fall. Most people just think we are being a sweet couple.”

18. “I turn my head from side to side a lot to try to stretch out my neck and shoulders, or crack my neck for the illusion of relieving migraine pressure.”

19. “Making sure I eat at least three decent meals a day. People think I’m strange that I schedule things around my eating schedule but if I don’t eat a migraine will hit me hard.”

20. “I live in a very dark house. I get migraines almost daily so it is always dark. I have blackout curtains and a dimmer so I can keep the light as low as whatever is comfortable. Whenever we have company over, they always comment on how dark our house is.”

21. “Disappear from social media, not responding to phone calls and text messages. The light off of my phone, iPad and laptop would hurt my eyes and worsen my migraine. So I usually just turn them off.”

22. “I rub my hand or a pen up and down my upper arm in order to give myself something else to focus on when my aura starts to come on.”

23. “I speak very softly. It hurts to talk at a normal volume. I have stopped singing in the choir. To me, it sounds like I am yelling and my own voice may trigger a migraine.”

24. “I grind my teeth a lot during a migraine. Also, I walk around with a ‘false’ face on trying to pretend everything is alright.”

25. “I often have the habit to look down as I walk or do anything… not really because I’m ‘shy’ but because I can’t handle much light.”

26. “Using pressure points on my neck and sometimes head to temporarily alleviate (or distract from) my migraine. It can appear as frustration, laziness or boredom, I’ve been told.”

27. “I get really quiet and antisocial if I’m in a social setting and start blinking a lot when I notice the beginning of the headache coming on.”

28. “Always turning down the radio/music in the car – sound is a trigger – and thus being the ‘party pooper’ to the jam sessions. And concerts are a complete absolute no-go, unfortunately.”

29. “[I] mess up my words, become unable to speak and speak in a manner where people who don’t know me would assume I’m drunk.”

30. “Slowly rocking myself back and forth, especially when the nausea hits. I don’t know why but sometimes it’s soothing.”

31. “I knead at my neck and use smelly balms. I also go to the bathroom to run cold water on my face. I have to pretend I don’t want chocolate or an adult beverage when things are flaring up, when I really want one. I have to nap when it acts up, leave work early for doctor appointments. The worst surprisingly is yawning though. People think I am disinterested or don’t care, but it is often an early sign for me to take some meds with caffeine and prepare to either go home or jury rig myself to get through the rest of the day.”

32. “Wearing a hat inside. The lights in many buildings can cause worse migraines than the sun. People seem to just assume I’m rude for wearing a ball cap inside, especially at restaurants. Trust me, I wish the lighting didn’t increase migraines too.”

33. “Rub my forehead. I also may be eating a mint or honey candy for the nausea, or just food to try and prevent me from getting a migraine. I have to listen to my body in a way others may not because being tired/hungry/stressed can lead to a migraine.”

0 notes

vamp-hollow · 3 years ago

Note

Maybe do an Eddie x Black FTM reader? Maybe they are at a party ad confess their feelings for each other, Just a bunch of fluff!

THIS COULDNT HAVE COME AT A MORE PERFECT TIME.

Red Solos n Snuggles

Eddie Munson x Black! Ftm Reader

A/N: HALF OFNTHIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE I WATCH VOL2 AND AFTER

Cw: vomiting,unsafe binding

“Eddie? ”

Your words snapped him out of his daydream. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure

“Oh [Name] sweet, sweet [Name]” Eddie leaned over, his signature cynical smile plastering his face

“Have I ever backed down from a challenge? Huh, Big boy?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting your response

Eddie always called you pet names and he knew you loved it, hell he knew you loved it. Whenever you would get flustered your eyes would get wide and your breath shakey, it was his favorite reaction

“I-i guess not”

“Exaaaaaactly, so! We're gonna get in there, get shitfaced, annnd maybe cause a little mischief, who knows?” He giggled at his own words, locking the car and opening the heavy door for you

“Wait, Shouldn't you be babysitting Dustin?”

“Shouldn't you be not wearing that compression thing from hell?” Eddie responded.

Damn he got you there.

In an attempt to try and flatten your chest you did a hodgepodge of bandages tape and stitching to create some sort of compression top. It felt like hell and hurt like a bitch but you weren't gonna be there long so, it didn't matter, right?

Well, it did matter when you were 30 minutes into the party with no sign of Eddie. You prayed that he just ran off to get away and was not sitting in the corner somewhere surrounded by solo cups. He was the only one who could drive that rickety old van. When you tried it almost ended you both and the car in a ditch. You decided to gulp down the rest of whatever they had put out and stumble up the stairs on the hunt for him. You knew Eddie all too well so you had a rough idea of some hiding places he might be.

Crawling up the stairs felt like scaling a mountain. With each breath you took a sharp pain entered your chest. But you kept crawling eventually making it to the second floor. The pain was unbearable and you crawled into the nearest bedroom. Sprawling out on their bed, gasping for air. In your panic, you could hear loud thumping getting closer and closer until the door flung open and there he was. Eddie Munson, half sober.

“Oh my god oh my god [name]! [ Name]! are you ok? Can you hear me? [NAME]!” Eddie grabbed your shoulders tightly, shaking you. Although your vision was blurred and shakey, you could see eddies glossed over brown eyes, his tears fell back into your face, dripping into your nose bridge

“Mnhn? Imm fiinehn..” you swatted eddies face away with not much effort. You could hear Eddie clanging around for something once he found it. A cold metal shook through your body, causing you to shiver

Eddie was cutting off the makeshift binder, being careful not to accidentally nick you

Once he got it off, we went to go hug you but you turned on your side, not wanting to look at Eddie

“Cmon, [name we need to get you ho-] but before Eddie could finish his sentence, your body began to lurch forward. You were gonna hurl all over this poor girl's bed. But Eddie was quicker, he scooped you into his arms, and with a little struggle, he managed to get you to a bathroom that wasn't occupied by horny teenagers. You slung yourself over the toilet and began throwing up everything you drank at that party, you had gotten stomach acid all over your hair

“E..eddie my hair” you mumbled, continuing to throw up

“Er, are you sure? I don't wanna mess up any-

“JUST DO IT”

“Ok! Ok! Jeez” With a sift motion Eddie clumped all of your coils up into a fistful, being careful not to squeeze TOO hard

Once you were gone you sat there for a moment, Eddie got a paper towel and began wiping your face.

He had looked at you in a way that he never did before, he had a bright twinkle in his eye, he didn't even have to say anything and you could read his mind. He was ethereal he was-

“[Name]? Are…are you crying” he spike softly,

“Ugh uhm n-no I im not i….” You couldn't hold it anymore and you burst into tears, burying yourself into his shoulder, holding him for dear life. All Eddie could do was comfort you. rubbing your back while whispering affirmations

“J-just look at me, Eddie.. I'm a fucking mess that's what I am…I don't even know why you—you deserve a better friend Eddie, someone who not such a disa-

“Stop.”

You looked up at Eddie, your puffy eyes meeting his, he was also crying. You were so confused, why was he upset?

“Stop saying that about yourself [name] you're wonderful. You were someone who believed in me, who...WANTED to be friends with me even when I was an ance ridden freshie with bad hair” you both giggled in unison, Eddie pulled you closer.

“My point is [Name], You…are a highlight in my life. You've always seen me for who I was and not what others wanted me to be, and that…” Eddie cupped your face in his hands, your noses grazing each other only by inches

“I wouldn't change that for the world.”

“Eddie i-“

He pulled you into a kiss holding your face, and you returned the favor, you kissed him back with so much passion, so much heart your breaths were synchronized as he held your face closer, trying to invite his tongue into your mouth, which you accepted, his tongue felt like heaven, the way they molded together like a perfect puzzle piece, saliva dripping down both of your lips. He pulled away for breath pushing his hair out of the way

“Eddie you-“

“I-im sorry that was stupid wasn't it?” He mumbled looking away from you, his hands sliding off of you and back by his sides.

“Ed no i-“

“If you don't wanna talk about it we can-“

“EDDIE!”

He looked up at you, quite startled by you raising your voice

“Will you let me finish my sentences?” You said through giggled, Eddie immediately untensed up, giggling along with you

“ what did I scare you? Him scardey pants?”

“N-no” He looked away trying to hide his embarrassment with his hair, it was quiet for a moment before he grabbed you by your waist holding you in his lap and tickling your sides

“TICKLE FIGHT” he screamed

“EDDIE NO- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA” you bellowed, you could barely catch a breath as he tickled you. Laying you into the tub before getting on top of you, putting his head into the crook of your neck

“Mnnh..you smell good” he mumbled, holding your hand tightly, planting soft kisses on it

“Why thank you, Eddie, it's called cocoa butter,” you said proudly, you loved when people complimented your scent.

“Like…cooking butter?” Eddie asked, you forgot he was white as paper, it was kinda cute.

“God Munson you're an idiot”

You two giggled and giggled in that tub till dawn, you stayed in that tub in each other's arms for hours and hours. You never wanted to leave.

This was the start of something beautiful.

#eddie munson #fanfic #st4 #stranger things #joesph quinn #fluff #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x male reader #gay #male!reader #eddie i want you so bad #eddie munson stranger things

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 2 years ago

Text

The Doctor.

Here. Some warm drinks.

...

*Taichi enters the Foundation meeting room in the Tower, with a cup of warm tea for Seiko. He hands it to her and she drinks it with a smile.

So how have things gone down here?

We unfortunately haven’t made much progress. The lead researcher just went to grab 404 and Saihara, but Seiko hasn’t said so much as a word to us.

I see...Well, I did just contact Chihiro to inform him of everything that’s happened, including your safe arrival back and the sudden appearance of Ms Kimura.

Hehe...Mr Nidai certainly sounded excited in the background.

...

Nekomaru’s been keeping Branch 4 afloat while you’ve been gone Seiko. I think he should get an award once you have the chance to meet with him again.

Hmph...No pressure.

That’s not what I meant!

Yeah, I know, I’m just fucking with you...

I see that Ms Asahina decided not to join us...

Hina said she would stick around, but...since she decided to quit Future Foundation, she’s choosing not to join these meetings.

So it’s official...Hina really did quit?

No. She has yet to sign any resignation documents...However, that’s simply because we haven’t found the time or place to.

Still, if she’s not in the mood to participate, I won’t force her to.

...

You know you could...like...say something...right?

...

Has she lost her voice by any chance?

Even if she’d lost her voice, we’d still be able to get a bit out of her.

*Byakuya sits down on a chair opposite her, everyone watching.

I’ll go easy on you of course, but I hope you know we need to ask you a lot of questions.

...

Feel free to take your time with them, but we need to know...How did you escape Zetsubou’s base...and do you know where it is...

What’s the status of the other kidnapped people should you know it? Do you know anything about what Zetsubou are planning?

Jeez Togami. Ain’t that a lot right out of the gate.

Well to be fair, he did give a warning.

I...

Hm?

I...want to...tell...but...I...don’t...know if...if I can...

What do you mean by that?

And why are you speaking so slowly?

Kamu...kura...the...pill...he...

Pill? What pill!? Spit it out!

I...he...Gh...

GHLEARGH!

!!!???

SEIKO!?

WHAT THE HELL!?

!!?

*Had Seiko not been wearing her mask, she would have vomited blood all over Byakuya. As it stands, she loses her strength and collapses to the floor.

I...spoke too...EUARGH!

What happened!?

Seiko, are you ok!?

Stop! STOP TALKING!

*Rei suddenly rushes over to Seiko. Everyone goes silent thinking she’s speaking to them as a collective, but she crouches down and moves Seiko’s body in an interesting way. Within a few moments, Seiko’s breathing returns to normal and her face regains what little color it has.

...Thanks...

Stop...talking...!

...

What...the hell was that!?

Rei...is it really the same thing?

Hm...It seems so...the circumstances seem different, but there’s no doubt it’s the same affliction. Kimura...Did Uchui Kamukura do this to you?

...

*Seiko nods.

Was it using a machine?

...

*Seiko shakes her head.

I see...

Hold on a second, we need to take a few steps back!

Mekaru...What just happened to her!? Do you know?

It seems to me this was the cost of Seiko Kimura’s freedom.

To make a long story short, Uchui Kamukura has taken...or rather limited...Seiko Kimura’s ability to communicate with us. Should she try she’ll feel nauseous and...well you saw for yourself what happened.

But why...!? And HOW?

And more to the point, how do you know about all of this?

...Because I’ve seen it in action before...During my own Killing Game.

The Kibougamine Gakuen?

How much to you all know about that Killing Game specifically?

Information on the Kibougamine Killing Game is mainly in the hands of the Kisaragi Foundation. Most of what Future Foundation knows is limited to three things.

First, Tsurugi Kinjo, Teruya Otori, and yourself, Rei Mekaru, were the only three survivors.

Second...The mastermind of the Killing Game was the Ultimate Maid, Akane Taira, and Utsuro, the boy with the power of Divine Luck.

And third and finally, the Killing Game itself was a ploy by Junko Enoshima in preperation for the “First” Mutual Killing Game between the 78th Class at Hope’s Peak.

Yes, that’s all accurate. But since it wasn’t broadcasted like the other Killing Game’s, a lot of things happened during it that don’t really get talked about.

One such thing was a situation involving Mikako Kurokawa, who now works with us in Kisaragi Foundation, and her adoptive brother, Yamato Kisaragi.

As Munakata stated, the Killing Game was hosted as a test for Yasuke Matsuda’s memory erasure technique’s that he used to erase the academy memories of the 78th Class. Before he used it then, he tried it on us.

However, Yamato had found out about Utsuro and Taira’s plan in advance, and had prepared a countermeasure in case anything went wrong. One such countermeasure, was the MRD.

“MRD?” What’s that?

It stands for Memory Retention Device. And as the name implies, using it completely blocked the effects of Matsuda’s brainwashing. Allowing those who used it to retain their memories of before the Killing Game.

This came at a cost however. Say, most of you have met Kako before, right? What was your first impression of her?

Well...She has a gloomy and sketchy appearance, but she seems to mean well.

Well, before the Killing Game, Kako was a confident and defiant spirit. She wasn't afraid to speak up against anything that was wrong and always had a strong sense of justice and hope.

But thanks to the MRD, that changed. The machine had some side effects that severely altered both Kako and Yamato’s personalities, and not only that...

They also both suffered from afflictions that made it difficult to communicate with us, hence why neither could tell us the truth. In Mikako’s case, if she tried to communicate at length with us, it would result in massive migraines and brain damage...

Damage so severe that in the end...it basically killed her.

Wait...so you’re saying that Seiko-!?

...

I doubt Kamukura has recreated the machine, but there’s a highly probably chance that he’s used another method to recreate the effects.

On top of migraines being caused by speaking, it also makes sign language and writing on paper impossible. And it hurts your body to try in equally terrible ways.

Basically, Kamukura has rendered Dr Kimura’s speaking skills useless.

...Uchui...

Damn that albino motherfucker...! How could he DO something like this!?

Actually Leon...not that I’m trying to defend Kamukura or anything but...I think he might have actually saved Seiko’s life with this method.

What? What do you mean?

Put yourself in Zetsubou’s shoes for a brief moment. You’ve finished using Seiko for what you need her for, and there’s no reason to keep her around any more.

But if you let her go free, there’s nothing stopping her from running back to her friends here at the Future Foundation, and telling them everything she knows about Zetsubou’s secret plans, and the location of their secret base. In that situation, what would you do?

Well...I’d probably either keep her locked up forever or...

Or KILL her...

And I’m willing to bet that Shirogane was going to do exactly one of those two things.

Seiko might not be able to spill the beans about Zetsubou, but at least she’s ALIVE and SAFE. Right?

Yeah, you’ve got a point.

Yeah...and on top of that, there actually is some good news.

*Everyone looks at Setsuka.

Oh yeah? What’s that?

Kisaragi Foundation were able to salvage Yamato’s old machine after the end of the Killing Game. We destroyed it, but before we did, we ran some tests on it’s properties.

And we found a cure to the affliction it causes.

...!?

So assuming Seiko’s affliction is along the same lines, we can help her!?

...Yes.

What’s the catch?

Huh?

The way you said that sounds sus. You hesitated for a second there. The good news is that we can cure Seiko, so what’s the bad news that comes with it?

Hmph...You’re annoyingly perceptive...But yes, unfortunately, there is a catch.

It’s not just being perceptive. We just can’t have nice things come to us for free like...EVER.

Sad as it is to say, Kurafto is right...All of our victory’s lately always come at a cost...Chances are we’ll need to work for this one.

Alright. The catch is that even though we know there’s a cure, neither Setsuka, nor myself, nor any key member of the Kisaragi Foundation can actually FASHION said cure...

Except for one person.

Who?

Dr Hikaru Ando.

...!

Makoto: That name sounds familiar...

Taichi: Yes, it would do. I’m sure everyone is aware of it by this point, but before his escape, Nagito Komaeda confessed that Organization Zetsubou had ressurected Kanata Inori, the Ultimate Surgeon, as part of their plan to mass-produce Ultimate Hope’s.

Setsuka: Hikaru Kanata’s father. He adopted her after he saved her from a car crash that also killed her birth parents.

Rei: And then there’s the real problem...Dr Ando has been missing for 7 years now.

Sayaka: 7 years!? What happened?

Setsuka: I don’t know. But ever since you brought me back to life, it’s the primary case Tsun-Tsun has me working on. Ando just up and disappeared one day, and what’s more, the Kisaragi AI that used to manage the Foundation went with him.

Leon: Kisaragi AI?

Kyoko: Yamato Kisaragi made an Alter Ego of himself, and just like Chihiro’s Alter Ego, it came to be the CPU for most of the Kisaragi Foundation’s network.

Yoruko: How does something like that just go MISSING all of a sudden?

Rei: We don’t know, but it’s made life a hell of a lot harder for us at the Kisaragi Foundation. Hence why we’re searching for both the doctor and the AI.

So if we want to cure Seiko and defeat Zetsubou, our first order of business will be tracking down Dr Ando.

Our connections are limited, but we’ll make use of any we do have to crack down on the search.

We also have Yuki and his Whitecloak companion searching. They’ll bring whatever info from the streets they find right back to us.

So what do we do for now then?

Hm...It might be worth going out and getting Ms Kimura some painkillers and headache medicine. We can’t cure her affliction, but we can certainly settle it.

...

Got it. Since she’s out and about, I’ll grab Hina, and we can go together.

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 3 years ago

Text

Cheerleader Eddie AU, Rocky Mountain High

"Am I high?"

"I dunno, are you high?"

"I don't feel high."

Chrissy and Eddie laid out on the carpeted floor of what Eddie was pretty sure was Jason's bedroom. Way too many sports posters and trophies on the wall for a normal dude. Their sloppily rolled blunts were forgotten on the dresser as the metalhead got on his knees and crawled over to the record player in the corner of the room. Digging through the vinyl crate, Eddie tried to find something to put on.

"Bangles...A-Ha...Abba? Jeez-us, I always knew Jason had shit taste in music."

"What's wrong with Abba?" Chrissy asked, running her hands through the carpet and giggling. "Man I never realized how soft this carpet is." Standing up she wobbled a bit as she held both her arms out.

"What are you doing?" Eddie laughed as she grinned at him.

"A cartwheel!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm not high!" She giggled, moving into position with her right arm on the ground and going to turn her body but instead she fell flat on her side. "Ow....okay maybe I am high." Eddie gave up on his pursuit of decent music and crawled over to his fallen captain.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm, I'm fine!" She waved him off. "Deal with worse shit every day. Once got dropped from the top of a six person pyramid!"

"Ow....that's hurt to even think about."

"I think it just hurts for you to think."

"What?"

"What?" Eddie and Chrissy stared at each other before breaking out into laughter.

"Man, I wish I grabbed snacks...this party is total bullshit."

"All parties are total bullshit." Chrissy moved to lay down on the floor until she was side by side with the metalhead. "Jason knows I hate parties."

"Really? But you're like, at em all the time."

"Because I have to be. All cheerleaders go to this kind of thing. But it sucks balls." Chrissy said, her voice dropping on the word balls. "It's all balls. My mom, parties, Jason....balls..."

"He does like balls. Basketballs." Eddie snickered. To someone as blazed as he was, this was a very clever pun. Chrissy agreed with a loud snort. "Why's your mom balls?"

"She likes riding Jason's." The strawberry blonde raised her hand in a manner that was probably an attempt at the jerking off motion. "She likes him so much, you'd think she's dating him."

"Ew."

"Yeah. Totally ew." Chrissy shook her head. "Total bitch." She paused. "Is it bad I don't like my mom?"

"Nah, I don't like my mom. Or my dad. My dad kind of sucks."

"I bet your dad didn't teach you how to stick your fingers in the back of your throat after dinner so you can go down a size." Chrissy rolled over to face Eddie. Eddie shrugged.

"Nah he just taught me how to cook meth and keep an eye out for the cops during a deal."

"Damn. That does suck." Chrissy watched Eddie nod. "Both our families suck."

"Yeah. But hey at least we have each other, right?" Eddie asked, stretching his hand out. Chrissy paused for a moment before taking Eddie's hand.

"Yeah. You know, I don't care what everyone else says. You're a good guy." She smiled and Eddie felt his heartbeat pick up a few notches when she quickly sat up.

"Chrissy? What-?" Eddie didn't get to finish as she began to throw up. Most of the vomit staining the white carpeted floor but by the time she finished heaving, the front of her shirt was mess.

"Oh...shit..." She muttered looking down at the mess that was her clothing.

"Hey, come on," Eddie said as he helped Chrissy up, "let's go get you cleaned up."

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Chrissy groaned as she clung to the toilet bowl of the small bathroom she and Eddie had locked themselves away in. At first she'd tried cleaning the blue tank top she was wearing off in the sink but it was beyond saving.

"Hey it's fine. Some people just can't handle their weed." Eddie took off his denim vest and handed it to his fellow cheerleader. She gratefully accepted it, pulling it over her shoulders and buttoning it up to cover the vomit stains.

"Thanks Eddie." She pulled away from the porcelain bowl. Letting out a listing moan. "Ugh, this is more embarrassing than the time I split my pants during cheer practice."

"Pffft, you think that's embarrassing? Remember last week? My first practice? When I practically broke my balls hitting the floor?"

"That did look like it hurt." Chrissy hummed. "But that can't be any worse than this time my freshman year when I was wearing a white skirt. At lunch I sat down on a packet of ketchup and didn't realize for the rest of the day it looked like I got my period."

"Ooofff." Eddie chuckled.

"Nobody told me! It was so embarrassing!" She laughed. "God I must be high. I haven't even told Jason that story."

"Embarrassing? No way, I'll tell you embarrassing." Eddie giggled. "But you have to never, ever tell anyone else."

"I'm all ears, big boy." Eddie took a seat next to Chrissy on the towel in front of the bath tub.

"Okay so last year there was this guy. And he was like a total douche. We're talking complete asshole, on the basketball team thought he was hot shit."

"Uh huh." Chrissy nodded.

"And he's sleeping with practically every girl in our grade when one day he comes to buy drugs from me..." Eddie trailed off into laughter. "And he's says I hear you suck dick. I said, yeah sometimes. And then I sucked his dick!"

"Wait what?" Chrissy watched Eddie laugh.

"Yeah! He's this total closet case. Talking, so far in the closet could probably find the sweater my nana knit for me when I was ten closet case." Eddie tapped his rings along the edge of the tub as he went on. "And then we just kept like meeting up. Bathrooms, janitor's closet, his stupid Camaro that smelled like old gym socks. And I thought we were a thing! Then he just blows me off and I never see him again. I thought I was in love. Isn't that embarrassing?"

Chrissy blinked, watching Eddie giggle like it was nothing.

"That's not embarrassing. That's sad."

"Wha? No! It's...it's not sad." Eddie leaned against the tub and rested his head next to his hands. The weed already made his eyes bloodshot but Chrissy watched the look in them change. Leaning next to him and pulling him into a hug. His body tensed up for a moment before leaning into it. "Hey how about we blow this place? I think Denny's is still open."

"That sounds great."

#fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things au #eddissy #hellcheer #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #chrissy x eddie #cheerleader eddie munson #cheerleader au #jason: i can't believe someone vomited in my room last night #chrissy: *quietly in the corner* yeah so weird...

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astradis · 3 years ago

Note

hiii can i get a matchup !! i absolutely love the way you write and just your blog in general !!

my name is awsten/vee but my close friends/family call me aws ! i’m mexican , tan and a 5’2 girl with short bright pink hair . i have heterochromia and basically i have two different colored eyes ! (my right eye is a hazel looking color while my left eye is blue !) my face has some acne scars and i have my septum pierced along with both my nostrils and i have my vertical labret pierced ! i have tattoos scattered all over my body whether they were professional or stick and pokes my friends or myself have done ! i’m also bisexual!

i’m extremely clingy if im being honest i love hugging my friends and getting them gifts to show my love towards them. ive been told by friends that i remind them of fiona from shameless or even cassie from skins uk ,i say that im usually a people pleaser since whenever people ask me for stuff i usually do it quickly for them and im very talkative almost word vomiting. i’m very quiet when i first meet people but once they probably know me i can talk forever about my hyper-fixations.i can be naive at times because i really just wanna see the good in people , whenever i get angry i usually dont let it show but if its like built up i just cry .

i really love doing witchcraft and astrology!! i am a huge horror film nerd and love learning and discovering new movies !!! i love any music ! one of my most preferred genre is pop punk but i also love alternative stuff ! i dress in very drastically different styles it depends on the day if im being honest 😭😭 . but i love dressing punk , battle vests/jackets , band tees and crust pants and i usually wear my docs that are ladder lace coded .

i hope this is enough and if its too much im sorry !!! and tysm <33 !!

ok but hispanic girlies unite 👊 aws ur literally so cute but i feel like YOURE HER ENTIRE WORLD

CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

when chrissy locks eyes with you for the first time, her heart beats faster than it ever has. she feels like it’s the first time she’s ever been able to see clearly her entire life. it’s not until you tap her shoulder to bring her back to reality that she realizes you’re right in front of her. you two got paired up for a class project, and now for an entire month, you had to study the human mind and how complex it works. you don’t know how grateful chrissy is that you were willing to repeat the assignment to her, because she was NOT listening to the teacher the moment you sat beside her.

chrissy had always known she liked girls the way she shouldn’t. she tried her best to distract herself with men, and with jason especially, she felt like she’d been getting somewhere. but when every single weekday, she sat beside you and got to know you more, nothing seemed to work anymore and she couldn’t handle the feeling. oh, and don’t even mention the fact you two not only were together period six every day- but now, every saturday was study day for you two. chrissy felt like she was going crazy.

somehow, a discussion landed on sexuality. with how close you two became in the past month, chrissy felt comfortable confiding in you about how she felt about girls but never mentioned anything about how she felt about you in particular. you weren’t just any girl, you were you. you were the beautiful awsten she could never seem to get her mind off of. wait a sec, why are you making that face? why do you look so confused?

“Oh my goodness, did I just-“ Chrissy put a hand over her mouth and a hand over her heart. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I just said that out loud, I-I was just- I was talking and… that all came out. I’m really sorry, jeez I’m so sorry!”

“Chris, it’s okay,” you reassured, a soft smile on your face as you bashfully looked away to gather your own thoughts into words. “Um, I actually… I really, really do like you. I just, I didn’t know what to say considering you’re with Jason and everything, and the fact you’re just… you. Not like that’s a bad thing! It’s just, well, I don’t want to lose you. Not over something silly like this.”

Chrissy looked back up at your eyes, her hands still placed where they were previously, but she put them by her sides and stood up in front of you. You were very visibly confused until you were pushed backward from your sitting position on your bed to a now laying one, Chrissy’s arms wrapped around you as she hugged you with her face in the comfort of your neck.

“You won’t lose me. You’ll never lose me, Aws.” Chrissy smiled into your neck. You happily hugged her back in a more comfortable position, the two of you laid there for the next few minutes. You could worry about Jason and everything else later, but now- it felt too perfect to let this feeling go.

#stranger things #chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x reader #chrissy cunningham matchup #st chrissy #stranger things x reader

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earthlyyan · 4 years ago

Text

Little Trainee (Platonic(?)Yan! Childe x Reader)

For @bye-bye-sunbird (thanks again for your help) Warnings: Abuse, Graphic descriptions of violence, Implied Torture, Eye Trauma, Unhealthy Sibling relationships, Childe being a sadist, Kidnapping? If you squint? Imprisonment? Betrayal

Word Count: 3084

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He was gone.

Tartaglia held his younger brother’s fur-lined cap in his calloused hands, bringing it close to his chest. He’d taken off without it, wanting to be as far away from the killer that was his big brother so badly, he’d neglected to dress for the cold.

Despite his best efforts, Tartaglia had been unable to find him, and though tempted, he had refused to get the Fatui involved. It would further remind Teucer that his brother’s job was a terrifying one, too dark for the mind of a child to fully grasp. A child’s mind would never truly grasp why he had to kill, only that he had taken the life of another. And how that was an unforgivable sin.

He’d requested a day off work to prevent him from making any rash decisions on duty. He’d spent the day wandering aimlessly, desperately trying to gather his thoughts. He’d found himself in the familiar shambles of Dunyu Ruins. Perhaps he’d take out his frustrations on some ruin guards, or at least he’d considered it, until he saw you.

In and out and in and out.

Your sword found its way into the ruin guards eye again and again. It had been dead after the first thirteen stabs, but you didn’t care.

Your thrusts were becoming harder to maintain, your shallow breaths and sore arms halting your rage filled pursuit. Your legs straddled its large, heavy body, thick vines restrained its arms and legs.

It killed him. It killed your brother. The laser sliced his body while simultaneously cauterizing the wound, leaving him in two, unable to bleed. His face still frozen in that of agonizing pain.

It was going to kill you as well until a blinding green light appeared before you; a dendro vision.

You didn’t know how you did it, but now it was dead, and the gift of the archons laid on the ground before you. You hated it.

A gift of the gods, what a fucking joke.

You choked back the urge to vomit at the rancid scent before removing your sword from the gaping glass wound.

You kicked the hunk of metal as hard as you could before losing your balance and falling back onto the ground.

A man stood there; a couple years older than you. You’d fallen right at his feet.

He wordlessly helped you up off the ground before clearing his throat, as if to clear the air with it.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone receive a vision before.” His voice was light and airy. “I had been walking when it’s light blinded me. I regret not showing up sooner.”

You refused to look at the strange man, his words not registering. Your mind was too busy trying to process what had just happened.

“Hey,” His voice was louder, shaking you from your stunned stupor. He held out a handkerchief from his pocket. “You should probably get out of—”

“He’s dead.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“That thing killed him. He’s dead.” Your words were empty. You contemplated if you should be feeling anything else other than thinly veiled anger and disgust. You should’ve been sadder. The only thing you had felt at the time of you mindlessly stabbing the guard was desperation for your own survival, and fear that it would get up again. You were revolted at the sight of the corpse before you, but you weren’t terribly torn up about the death in itself. And that disgusted you.

Anyone else would’ve been. Anyone would’ve been devastated if they had watched their own kin get cut in two. But no, you were more worried about what you’d tell your mother.

You walked over to the remains of your brother and poked it with your foot, your blatant disrespect for the dead caught the man off guard. Your gut did flips in your stomach at the gruesome sight.

“You don’t seem too upset about it.” He seemed to lack the same feeling of fear at the sight of a corpse. You didn’t quite know how to feel about that. “Though, you don’t seem like you’ve got the guts to orchestrate it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughed. “The way you kept stabbing the poor ruin guard made me think it was self-defense, and that the death was an accident. But the fact that you’re not devastated at his death made me wonder that you did it intentionally.”

“And if it was?” “Then I think I’d applaud your ambition.”

The man introduced himself as Childe, a member of the Snezhnayan organization called the Fatui. He claimed to be a warrior of sorts, and that he had gone to Dunyu Ruins to take out some frustrations he had one some ruin guards. He then had stumbled across you stabbing a lifeless robot corpse.

He had treated you to lunch in Liyue, saying that leaving you to stew in your thoughts after witnessing something of that caliber was ill-advised.

“What were you doing in Dunyu Ruins?”

“My brother wanted to do something there. He wouldn’t tell me what it was.” You mumbled.

“And the sword?”

“The sword I have with me was the one he was carrying, but when his torso disconnected from his legs, his scabbard landed close to me. So I thought I might as well use it.” You stirred your soup with your spoon, not having much of an appetite.

“So why did he have the sword?”

“Archons know.” You sighed. “If I’m being frank, I think he was going to kill me.”

Childe lowered his tigerfish from his mouth. A light laugh left his lips, startling you. “What makes you think that?”

“I was father’s favorite, though I am the younger of the two of us. So when he found out he had left the inheritance to me instead of his eldest son, he thought it unfair.” You reluctantly brought the spoon to your lips and swallowed. “We had never gotten along; I was like a punching bag than his younger sibling.”

“And I suppose that’s why you’re not crying and mourning the loss?” His voice was mocking.

“Well, would you?”

Childe hummed. “I’m not sure, family is family, but…” his voice lowered into an inaudible mumble, pondering.

He was silent for a moment. He took a few bites of his grilled tigerfish. His eyes wandered to the scabbard at your hip. “You don’t know how to fight.”

“What? Where did this come from?” He hadn’t even finished his thought from before.

“The way you were holding the sword as you used it to kill the ruin guard was way off. Had you kept going, you could’ve gotten hurt. If you had held it properly you could still be stabbing it now. If you didn’t get that vision when you did, it could’ve killed you with how poorly you were handling yourself.”

“That’s the whole point of getting bestowed a vision. Saving you when you’re on the brink of death or something like that.” You shoved your spoon in your mouth again.

“Yes, true.” He sighed and set down the now empty skewer. “But if you hadn’t gotten it you would’ve ended up like—” “Okay jeez I get it!” You grumbled around the metal in your mouth. “What are you getting at?”

“Luckily for you, I’m quite skilled at the sword.” His chest puffed in pride. “And it’s not like you’re going to go home with half a brother in tow, yes?”

“So you want to train me? What good does that do you?” “I’ve always wanted to train someone in a weapon.” He smiled, though there was a tinge of sadness in his voice. Like he was looking forward to it before the invitation presented itself. “And now, I can.”

You were on the ground again, some shallow, superficial cuts littered your body, Childe’s blade inches from your throat.

“You left yourself open again. I told you this weeks ago and yet you can’t get it.” A disappointed sigh escaped his lips as he pinged the bridge of his nose. “Hunch, keep your legs apart, again.”

Some part of you wondered if Childe got off on hearing your groans and hisses when he slashed you. Something about the way he bounced on his legs and the way his grin seemed more genuine had you worried.

You slowly got yourself off the ground, your bones and muscles creaking in protest as you readied your brother’s blade again.

“If you’re sore it means its working.” His laugh echoed as he lunged himself at you again, leaving you a moment notice to swerve out of the way. “If you weren’t sore before it means you were doing it wrong.” He dodged an oncoming attack from your sword and swept your legs, leaving you on the floor again. Yup, he was definitely getting off on this.

Three months under Childe’s tutelage toned your body significantly. He seemed to be more eager to fight you these days. Saying that you were finally getting fun to fight or something like that.

“Despite your form issues in the beginning, you’re practically a natural.” He beamed as he extended a hand to you. “Fighting you is actually fun these days, and less boring.”

“It was boring before?” You were borderline insulted.

“Fighting against you was boring. Seeing you grow and mature as a fighter was interesting.”

“Uh huh.” You wiped the sweat from your brow. “Sure.”

He’d been gracious enough to let you room at his house. And for someone of his age, it was quite impressive for him to have one of this stature. You had your own room across the hall from his. He only had two rules when staying with him.

One: The lower levels were off limits. No matter what. He said that it had to do with his work, and that it would be unprofessional of him to allow someone to interfere.

Two: Don’t ask about his work.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about it. Sometimes he’d leave for days on end and come back beat up, other times you’d hear noises from the lower levels.

They sounded like screams.

You wondered what he’d have to do for a living to hear such noises from below. Sometimes he’d go down for hours and come up itching for a fight with you, other times he’d leave satisfied and covered in blood. You’d wondered if it was his own.

Something about it didn’t sit right with you, but a fight with Childe was not one you wanted to engage in. He’d know all your moves, considering he’d been the one to teach them to you. Whenever you’d try to bring it up, you’d be shut down with an uncharacteristic coldness from him. One that barely used, only when he was talking about his work, that is.

But tonight the screams were louder. They reached your room in the depths of the night, even with the door closed and pillows blocking your ears. You had to know.

You were sick of being left in the dark here, you were sick of hearing those screams from downstairs. You had to know.

Were you training under a serial killer? Childe didn’t seem like the type, or was he?

The strange amount of pleasure he’d get when watching you get hurt by his hand. The ruthless way he’d slaughter hillichurls and treasure hoarders alike. No matter who or what it was, its death was no different to Childe. It seemed to light him ablaze, having him itching for a fight with anything that moved, and when it stopped moving, he’d be disappointed.

The screams had died down after a few hours. You had to wait until you heard his boots go back upstairs and into the room across the hall.

You had to be more quiet if you were going to get in and out of there before he noticed you.

After these escapades he would take a shower, the running water would be enough to cover your footsteps going down the hall, truly.

A minute after the shower started running you made your move. It was easy to pick out what door led to the basement, due to the sheer amount of deadbolts and locks keeping it closed. He’d left the key in the door, probably to stop whoever was in the basement from looking through the keyhole. Smart move for him when it came to living alone, but with company, it was practically begging to be used.

And use it you did. Deadbolt after deadbolt, you finally turned the key.

The basement was warm and sweet smelling. But not in the pleasant way sweets were supposed to smell.

It made your stomach ache and twist as you descended the staircase, closing the door behind you.

The clinking of chains got your attention before the sight of blood had. The lights had flickered on, illuminating the sight before you. You couldn’t hold back your vomit anymore.

Your suspicions were right, or so it seemed, with the sheer amount of bodies below. One was still living, trembling, and hunching away from you. “Did Childe do this?” You knew the answer but had to be sure. Perhaps it was an associate he worked with, or some weird fetish.

The man nodded, “I didn’t have enough money.”

“What?”

“To pay back the Northland Bank.” He stammered. “I couldn’t pay them back, so they sent him.”

“He’s a debt collector?”

The man shook his head. “No. He doesn’t care about collecting the debt, not like the others.”

There were others?

“He gets sent in after the warning deadlines are up. You pay with your—”

The man abruptly stopped, looking past you and onto the stairwell. Then he couldn’t see at all.

An arrow flew past you, barely grazing your ear before finding itself in the mans eye socket. He slumped to the ground, lifeless. You whizzed around to meet the source, only to find Childe, an arrow drawn taught in the bow you’d barely see leave his side.

“Well that’s disappointing.” He sighed. “I was hoping to make him last another day.” He grimaced. “That was a warning shot, by the way.” He walked down the stairs slowly, still aiming at you. “Put your back to the wall.”

He almost sounded sad. You were too shocked to move.

An arrow landed at your feet, standing straight up against the ground. “I said put your back to the wall. That wasn’t a suggestion.”

You tripped over the man’s corpse while making it to the wall. “Childe I—” “Nope, too late for that. Hands up.” He slowly lowered his weapon and made a show of putting it away. He wanted you to know he still had it. He leaned in close to your face. “Now that’s a look I haven’t seen in quite some time.” His voice was low, husky. “Betrayal looks so good on you.”

You could feel his hot breath on your neck. You growled and threw your head forward, colliding with his. He took a step back.

Blood ran down from his forehead, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Oh hoh~ Now that’s what I’m talking about. A real fight from you.” He drew hydro blades from his sides and threw one at you. “I’m expecting improvement from you, my little trainee.”

You picked up the cool blade from your feet, never breaking eye-contact with him. “I’ll kill you.”

“You better hope you do. For your sake, at least.” You lunged at him, swiftly finding your way behind him, ready to strike.

“Your stance has gotten better.” He smiled. “But I’m afraid it still leaves you open” He kicked off from the ground and into the air, his foot collided with your chin sending you reeling.

“You bastard.” You hissed, picking yourself off from the ground with the steadiness of a newborn deer. “Why not be more quiet about your escapades down here? If you’d had your victims quiet down, I would’ve never found about what you were doing.”

“I never said I never wanted you to find out what I was doing.” He ran at you again, slicing your shirt and your left shoulder along with it. “I was hoping you’d have enough faith in your teacher to follow my rules.” He sighed. “I didn’t take you for the curious type.”

“I’m not.” You said, you swept at his leg, but he narrowly escaped, jumping just high enough to miss it. “But I enjoy liking to sleep in peace knowing my upperclassmen isn’t a serial killer.”

“I’m no serial killer!” He laughed, landing a cut to your lower back, then stepping hard on it. You fell to the ground trapped under his heel. “I’m simply following orders. I have nothing against these people.” He pressed harder.

You suppressed a scream.

“I do have a problem with those who interfere. You were going to help him, weren’t you?”

You’d be lying if you said you were going to leave him to die.

“Weren’t you?” His voice was closer to your ear this go round.

“Yes! Yes, I was!” You sobbed. “I just wanted to—”

“I’ve heard this before. Suddenly you have the moral upright to save a dying stranger? But you sat back and kicked your brother’s corpse?”

“That was different!” “Sure it was. A man is a man is a man, yeah?” His foot lifted from your back and turned you onto your stomach. “See the difference between me and a serial killer, is that if I was a serial killer, I probably would kill you right now.” He sighed. “But see, I like you. So I think I’ll let you live. Though don’t expect things to go back to normal. I can’t expect you to stay quiet and continue your training in the open alongside me.” He leaned you up against the wall, easily fighting against your protests. He took your wrists and cuffed them to the wall.

The restraints were still warm.

You shuddered.

“See, here’s the thing.” He said. He cupped your cheek with his spare hand. “I don’t want to leave you the way you are, half trained. I do enjoy fighting you.” He finished tying you upright and smiled, admiring his handiwork. “I’ll let you go under one condition.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his smile finally reached his eyes.

“You’re free if you can kill me.”

#yandere writing #genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #yandere genshin x reader #reader insert #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: graphic depictions of violence

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