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oddinary4bts · 6 months ago

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Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,

☆word count: 15k (whoops)

☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, March 2nd

[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up

You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung.

It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened.

Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again.

You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep.

You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling.

Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.

Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…

You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.

You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.

Now you know it to be hell.

Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.

Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.

[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?

The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time.

Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest.

This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…

You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come.

“Jungkook?” you let out.

A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.

“Can I come in?”

Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”

So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.

Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers.

“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.

He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”

“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”

To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.

“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”

You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”

He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.

How can he have such an effect on you?

“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.

You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”

“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out.

You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”

“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.

He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk

“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”

“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”

You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”

When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.

You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.

“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.

Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”

“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.

“I’m just teasing you, peach.”

“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”

He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.

You nod once. “No worries.”

Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.

You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?

The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.

And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.

“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.

The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.

Or maybe half a lie.

“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.

“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”

“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.

“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features.

Has Jimin told him anything after all?

“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.

Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you.

“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.

“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Romantic,” you chime.

His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.”

There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.

You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”

“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”

You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”

“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.

“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.

The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would.

So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.

Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”

You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.

You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”

You glance at him. “Okay?”

“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”

Your throat goes dry. “He did?”

Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”

You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.

“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”

You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”

“Fuck.”

He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”

You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”

“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”

Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.

“You have a brother?” you ask.

His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”

“I’ve never heard about him before.”

He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”

You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”

“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.

You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”

Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.

“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”

“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.

“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”

“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”

He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.

“Please?”

“Please what?” you ask.

“Please come with me?”

There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.

What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?

“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.

“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”

“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”

Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”

You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.

“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”

*****

You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.

“You look hot, peach.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.

Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.

“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.

“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head.

“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots.

You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.

You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”

You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.

As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.

[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym

Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him.

[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with

You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.

“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”

“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room.

You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?

You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned.

It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”

Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.

And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?

“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”

You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”

You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”

“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”

You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”

You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about.

“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”

“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

“I’d hardly call it in advance.”

You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”

“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.

You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”

“Yeah, your party.”

“It’s not a party.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”

The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”

He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.

You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.

None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.

You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely.

And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously.

It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.

You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.

“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”

“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Oh, won’t you now?”

You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”

He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”

You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.

You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”

It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”

The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”

“Excuse me?”

You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”

Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?

Is Jungkook out to hurt you?

“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”

The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.

“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”

“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.

You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”

He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.

But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship?

“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you.

“Three?!” you shriek.

He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”

“Bruh.”

“You can do it, peach.”

He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.

If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes.

Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.

At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.

“Something wrong?” you ask him.

“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.

He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.

“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”

It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”

His silence is answer enough.

“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.

Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.

“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.

You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.

“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.

Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.

“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”

Oh.

“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”

“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.

You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”

He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.

“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”

“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”

“You don’t need to tell me this.”

“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”

You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.

Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.

“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.

There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.

“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.

His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.

You’re already in too fucking deep.

“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”

You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.

You really are in too deep.

*****

Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.

It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym.

And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.

Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook.

You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.

Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.

You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.

“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch.

You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.

“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.

You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”

Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.

“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.

“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”

Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”

You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”

“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.

You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”

“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.

He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.

Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she shrieks.

Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.

When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.

After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.

“What?” you ask.

“Do you like your drink?”

He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.

Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”

His lips curve upwards. “Good.”

You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask.

“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.

You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.

“Bullshit,” you call him out.

He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

“You drink all the time,” you state.

Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”

A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”

“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.

“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest.

You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement.

“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.

You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”

As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok.

“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.

He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.

Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.

Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.

“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.

Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.

“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.

It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.

You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze.

“Well, well, well,” you let out.

“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.

“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.

Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.

You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.

It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.

Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.

Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.

Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.

You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…

Only to have it end on Seokjin again.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”

This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.

You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.

So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.

You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all.

“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”

“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.

You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas.

Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”

Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”

Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side.

“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.

Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.

��Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”

“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”

Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing.

He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.

Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.

When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.

“Finally,” she jokes.

The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.

You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.

Pointing towards Jungkook.

“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.

Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”

Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.

They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.

Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”

Yep. The arrogant asshole.

You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.

He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.

You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.

“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.

You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.

Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.

All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.

He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold.

When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.

You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…

“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group.

You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.

You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.

You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.

You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.

Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?

You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.

The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.

You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.

You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.

[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed

You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.

“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.

Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can I sleep over?”

You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”

Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”

Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.

Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.

“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”

You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.

“They are,” you reply.

“I should hang with you guys more often.”

You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.

“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”

“Right.”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”

You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.”

Though, was it really just for the game?

“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”

“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”

He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”

“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.

Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.

You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life.

You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.

You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”

He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.

But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.

“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”

Your mind empties out.

“Jungkook…”

“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”

“You wanted this,” you remind him.

“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”

You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken.

You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.

“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.

His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”

It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”

“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”

“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”

His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”

You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability.

“Because there is no going back now.”

He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”

“You will just hurt me.”

“Not planning on it.”

You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.

The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.

“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.

“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”

Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.

“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”

Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.

He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”

“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”

Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long.

Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?

You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.

“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.

Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.

That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.

“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.

Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.

He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.

He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.

He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.

“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.

“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”

Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.

You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.

“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”

“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.

“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”

You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.

“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”

You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.

You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.

And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.

He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.

And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.

“Red lights?” you tease.

“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.

“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.

He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.

“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”

Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.

“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”

He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.

He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.

This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.

He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”

“Eat me out,” you say.

“That’s what you want?”

You nod.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.

As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.

“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.

“Yes.”

He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs.

He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.

Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.

“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.

Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”

Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song.

You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.

And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.

Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”

“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”

He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.

His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”

He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.

“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”

So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.

“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.

“What if I want you to?”

He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”

Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”

He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down.

“Open your mouth,” he orders.

You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.

It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick.

“Now you can suck my dick.”

You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.

He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“

“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”

“Are you sure?”

Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”

And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.

And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.

You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.

“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”

“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”

You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”

And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette.

“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”

You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.

“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“

“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”

He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.

“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”

“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.

He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”

A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.

Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.

“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.

It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.

He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”

You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.

He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.

“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.

“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.

The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.

Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.

He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move.

You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.

“That felt good?” he asks against you.

“Mmh,” you let out.

“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.

He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.

“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.

He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”

You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.

You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.

You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.

Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.

Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.

“Jungkook!”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.

“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.

“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.

You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Aren’t we sleeping together?”

You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”

He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”

“You’re simping.”

His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.

He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”

Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.

“Stay?”

He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”

You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.

“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.

You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you.

“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”

“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”

And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.

Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?

You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already.

A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”

Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.

“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”

Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?

“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.

He chuckles. “Yes.”

“But we’re not…” you trail off.

You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?

“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.”

You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”

“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.

“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.

“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”

The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire.

He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames.

Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…

But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.

Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.

College is meant to experience things though, right?

So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”

Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3

#chasing cars ch 7 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswriters #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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the election // LTPF

summary: Coriolanus Snow, current President of Panem, we salute you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. this part is quite tame! idk, discussion of the games as a concept is pretty messed up? obviously r & coryo are both delusional but whats new??

a/n: y'all my country doesn't have a president so idk how tf presidential elections work so i just guessed LMAO. just a heads up.

also credit to @that-veela-girl bc she casually dropped "panem is her garden. the games are her flowers." in my replies when we talked about their future and that has haunted me ever since (in the best possible way).

based on this ask.

series masterlist // playlist

After the death of the President's son years earlier, no one had any plan on what to do when his father passed. Of course, there would have still been an election, technically, but everyone knew Felix would have won. He was raised to be the next President, but very few people knew that he wasn't the only one.

"No, Darling. You take it."

"What? No, we've always done everything together." You protest, furrowing your brow. "She's offered it to both of us, we can do whatever we want, no more waiting for her approval. We can run with it! Come on, it'll be so fun, Coryo."

"That's your dream. Not mine." He smiled at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You frowned, focussing yourself on pulling the buttons of his shirt so they were perfectly aligned. "Are... Are you sure? I don't know if I can do it without you."

"You'll never do anything without me, you know that." He hummed, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "If you need help, just ask. I'm right here. Always."

"But... I don't understand, Coryo. Why not?" You pout. Sharing the position of Head Gamemaker was something you had dreamt of since the beginning of your internship together, shortly after returning from Twelve.

"Well," He sighs, shrugging slightly. "I've been pulling some strings, working my way up, and the President is on his deathbed, apparently. So I'm thinking I'll probably start my campaign soon." The smile on his face shows you he'd been planning this for a while- of course he had, for most of his life, his loved ones were telling him that would be his destiny: Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem. You saluted him, always.

You gasp, clapping your hands together in excitement. "Really?" You smile. "That's wonderful, Love! Oh, I just can't wait!" You squeal, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his grasp as he hugged you back.

That's the beginning of the journey that has led you here. Tireless hours planning campaign events and strategies, speeches, and everything that goes on behind the scenes. You knew he was a shoo-in.

The polls had closed days ago, the results were in, and the only one who knew the results was standing in front of your husband on the stage. You sat in the front row of the expansive audience, gripping tightly onto your brother's hand with nervousness as he sat next to you. He was an adult now, nearly. You had pulled him from school today for the event, and he had changed from his academy uniform into a tux you bought for him in the car on the ride over.

You were grateful that your father had allowed you to maintain a connection with him at the very least, though you wouldn't doubt that Coryo had something to do with that. He single-handedly granted every wish you'd ever had.

Your eyes are locked on Coryo sitting onstage, but he can't risk sparing a glance your way. He would smile, and he can't have that until he's won. He carries himself with such grace, such professionalism that your cheeks flush just looking his way.

"The new President of Panem will be..." A moment of suspense, tacky, but it still makes you sweat as you pull your brother's hands into your lap, forcing him to lean in closer to ground you while you wait for the announcer to continue. "Our youngest candidate, Coriolanus Snow!"

He's on his feet in a second, and so are you as you scream with excitement, practically jumping into your brother's arms. You feel the people around you putting their hands on you, patting you in a series of excited congratulations. He had worked so hard for this. He deserved it more than anyone, you were certain.

Your excitement is only quieted when you hear your husband's voice over the loudspeakers, having taken the podium for himself. As is his right, now.

"Thank you, thank you." He says to quiet the crowd, trying to curb the wide smile threatening to form on his cheeks to keep a mature, calm one. "Thank you, wow." He chuckles, and you stay clutching onto your brother's hand as you pay attention now, sitting back down.

"It is truly an honour to be here. I have a long list of people to thank, but I'd like to keep it brief for all of your sakes. So I'll say thank you to my family, who have supported me my whole life. Most importantly, I have to thank my beautiful wife. She's done more for me than anyone could ever fully understand." He looks at you, finally, and you blow him a kiss. "Come up here, Darling. Please. I wouldn't be here without you."

You blush, more than you already were, giving your brother a quick hug as he ushers you on, the cameras tracking the two of you as he escorts you to the stairs up to the stage and holds your hand as you carefully make your way up in your heels and long, red dress. You continue to hold it up so you don't step on it as you make your way over to your husband, who is waiting with an open arm for you to slot yourself into. You do, seamlessly, planting a kiss on his cheek as the audience cheers for you. You look out over it for the first time, pride swelling like a balloon behind your ribs. This was it. This was your life now.

"To a greater Panem!" Coryo calls out, attention once again returned to the people in front of you. The people of a country that's all yours. The people of the Capitol eat it up, cheers for you morphing into a roar that inflates your ego beyond belief.

"Congratulations, President Snow." You say in his ear, loud enough so he could hear it without the microphone picking it up.

Coriolanus smiles, wider now, squeezing your side and planting a kiss on your hairline. "It's all for you." He replies. "Panem will be your garden."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #president snow #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top #snow x reader

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wynnyfryd · 8 months ago

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Trailer park Steve AU part 62

part 1 | part 61 | ao3

cw: violence, off-hand mentions of drug use

Light bleeds through the cracks in the boathouse walls. Max is the one who found it, spotted the glowing bulb over the door and called them down the slope behind the house to check it out, and now Steve leads the group inside and clings to his nail bat in a way he hopes is reassuring but is probably just putting everyone else on edge.

Can’t really be helped, though.

Place gives him the creeps.

It's dark and dank, overwhelmingly humid, with a smell like mildew and old food over a layer of fear sweat, and the wood groans beneath their feet while the walls sway with the breeze. Makes it feel like the room is breathing, like they're standing inside of a haunted lung.

Steve braces himself in the middle of the room, head on a swivel while the group fans out around the edges, dipping in and out of shadow. Dustin calls for Eddie. Max checks the latch on a window. Robin points her flashlight at a pile of food wrappers and says, "This looks new."

Steve flexes his fingers on the bat; picks up an oar, too, just to be safe.

"What?" Dustin snorts. "You gonna dual-wield against your boyfriend?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He's not my—"

"—Ex-boyfriend, then, whatever. Still can't believe you never told me about that."

“Okay,” Steve huffs. Dustin’s grumpy muttering sounds more hurt than he’s letting on, but he’s letting on plenty, and Steve’s too keyed up to do this right now. “Can we just—” He gestures around the room with the oar to illustrate how completely not the time for this it is. “Can we not?"

"No,” Dustin protests, voice rising, “no, we can't not, Steve, because you—" He steps into Steve’s space, jabbing a finger against his sternum and backing him up to the edge of a tarp-covered boat. "—are a liar. You have been lying to me for months! And now it looks like you're gearing up to try and bludgeon my good friend with two blunt objects!"

"Shut up!” Steve snaps. He takes a deep breath; lifts the blunt objects in question, giving them a little shake. “First of all, it's not the boyfriend I'm worried about using these on, and secondly—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence.

He doesn’t get to plant his feet.

With a noise like a war cry, something blue blurs at the edge of Steve’s periphery and launches him across the room, shoving him backward over tarps and tackle boxes until his back slams against the wall and knocks the wind out of him, and his skull smacks the wood and sets off a snow storm in his vision — muffled ringing in his ears, tornado warning wailing through a thick layer of cotton. Steve’s friends are all shouting, and there’s something sharp against his throat, and someone is barking questions at him; hot, stale breath over his chin; a fist balled up in the front of his shirt.

“Are you real?” the voice demands, hand twisting in Steve’s collar and tugging him against the sharp thing. “ARE YOU REAL?”

Steve blinks. Blinks and sways into the sharp sting beneath his jaw until the dizzy spell ends.

The scene before him comes into focus slowly.

Steve thinks, for the millionth time that day, that he must be losing his mind. That he must have lost it already.

The blurry, shouting thing is Eddie. Eddie, who is glassy-eyed and drooling like a wild animal, who is pinning Steve to a splintered wall with a shattered bottle to his throat; whose face floods Steve with such intensely euphoric relief that he thinks he finally gets why people do hard drugs.

Even now, even like this, the only thought in Steve’s head is how lovely Eddie's face is.

How grateful he is to see it again, even if it might be the last thing he ever sees.

Beside them, Dustin speaks in low, placating tones, holding out his hands and encouraging Eddie to back off. Promising that Steve’s not gonna hurt him, that they’re all just here to help as Eddie’s eyes slip over and past Steve and his body tenses for the kill.

“Not real, not real, not real,” Eddie mumbles, spit shining on his shaking lip.

The bottle knicks Steve’s skin.

“Eddie!” Dustin begs. Max and Robin's eyes are huge. And Steve—

Steve laughs. A soft, hysterical thing, barely voiced, because of course Eddie’s going to kill him. Of course he is.

He’s already been doing it for weeks.

"What happened to your knife?" he jokes wetly, tipping his head back to bare his throat.

The question snaps Eddie back to himself. Steve watches from under his damp lashes as Eddie's eyes sharpen on him, darting all over his face with sudden, painful awareness, with something dangerously close to hope.

The hand holding the bottle trembles. "...Baby?" Eddie whispers, wet eyes searching still.

Steve holds his gaze. Nods against the jagged edge.

Glass shatters on the floor as Eddie collapses into him.

—

part 63

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #my writing #my fic

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catsoupki · 2 months ago

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別戒，毒友 / come out and haunt me (aki hayakawa x reader)

Summary: everyone has their vices to forget a world of devil and man, but remember, when you quit, you quit forever.

Warnings: canon-typical violence (mentioned), smoking cuz duh it’s aki, angst !! they’re hinted to have somewhat of a relationship that never really flourished, so i guess treat them as fwb that could’ve been but never was :) have this while i fail my math midterms <3

wc: 820

It takes him a little over five seconds before he actually moves. Sitting up, stretching out his legs, heaving a breath. With the cigarette box still in hand, he leaves the balcony with what he’s got left in him and goes to greet whoever is ringing the doorbell.

“Heyo,” is what greets him when he opens the gate, laden— “missed me?” You invite yourself into his home, loafers toed off at the Genkan.

“Got any cigarettes?” He says while he turns around, dipping down to rummage through the drawers, and then the kotatsu, hoping he’d come across some more saviours.

“Say yes first.” Movement ceases, you’ve done it, you’re made it awkward. Look down, sigh, look back up, Aki is meeting you in the eye.

“Yes.”

One second passes and you reach into your pocket to snake a new packet into his hand— the flavour he likes, bought from the kombini he frequents— unfamiliarly and with a certain hesitance that makes you slow down before placing it on his open palm, slithering back onto the balcony.

An October night, the wind is crackling outside, his cigarette wavering in the chill, “Hayakawa-sensei, aren’t you cold?”

“No,” his pyjamas riffle violently where he stands next to the opened sliding glass door, “you’re not gonna come out?”

“I’m not so fond of the cold, sir,” Stepping across the boundary, your hair whips in your face anyway, squinting– “give me one too.”

“Since when did you start seriously smoking?” He asks, with hair in his eyes, he looks at you expectantly. You close your eyes.

“Since last time,” you smile at him, in the direction where you think he’s at, you don’t know that his eyes are flitting across your lips, your hair, he looks at you again. You.

“You should quit.” You open your eyes again.

“Mm.”

You were introduced to Aki two months ago, as was your habit of smoking. Makima had found you lying behind some alleyway bar, maimed. When Aki arrived at the scene, he could not differentiate between the way your blood spilled and the cracks of concrete beneath your corpse.

The culprit was killed by Denji afterwards, and you were hauled to the hospital soon. The day that you wake up, Makima greeted you, a simple “Hi”, before she asked the million-dollar question: are you willing to join my squad?

You wanted to say no, and perhaps she knew that, but you had no family left, not even the Shiba. Eyes glossy, hazy, maybe, you didn’t answer her. When she came back a day later with flowers in her hold, you said yes while looking at the floor.

You believe that you have little say in what truly happens around you, and the things that happen to you. Despite Makima always asking for your opinions on matters that concern you, you think that just like how you had said yes to her initial request by looking at the floor, the requests that leave Makima’s lips are laced with aphrodisiac, or perhaps it’s poison, you never find yourself saying no.

“Would you accompany Aki on this mission? I believe it’ll be a good learning opportunity for you.” Yes, because yes.

“Will you consider making a contract with this devil? It’ll be a good matchup when you go on missions with Denji and Aki.” Sure, why not.

It was August when your lips were first tainted by something. It was supposed to be smouldering these days, but that time, you find yourself travelling to Hokkaido with Aki.

He was familiar with the place, you could tell. Unlike the other times, he didn’t waste time fiddling with paper maps or asking the locals. With snow crunching under his footfalls, he walked knowing where his shoes would land next; forward.

The air had been extra cold when Aki gave you your first cigarette. Musk fills your lungs before you heave and cough all that you inhaled. Aki laughs at you.

You should quit. Yes— quit smoking, quit saying yes, quit abusing devils, quit looking at the ground when Makima talks to you. You should quit before you die.

“I’ll quit when you do.” Stubbornness is all that you know, Aki knows. He sighs instead.

“Why’re you here?”

Aki is polite. He has a habit of looking at people with proper etiquette in conversation, something that you lack. The dimming skyline, nebulous clouds. “I’m leaving tomorrow! I finally got my solo mission after two months, Nara. I’m eating so much food there.”

Maybe it’s the wind, or maybe it’s you, perhaps it’s him, but you don’t say much. He doesn’t say much either. It’s the wind whipping your hair— yeah.

He glances at you, with smoke filling his lungs, drowning in you, he says, “Be careful.”

You leave soon after, forgetting that you had a reunion with a few friends. You leave behind the cigarettes.

You quit. Aki never got to return them.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa hahahah a two ppl tag list is comical

#did anyone realise the title is a cigarettes after sex reference #sy.aki #NEW TAG #aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki x y/n #aki x you #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x y/n #aki hayakawa x you #chainsaw man

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sequinsmile-x · 1 month ago

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Retreat

“He has Tommy,” she says, swallowing thickly, her throat stuffed full of everything she couldn’t and wouldn’t say, “He’s not alone.”

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is for the lovely @dontemilyyyyme, who inspired this fic with her love of the episode Haunted and that Hotchniss scene we all know and love.

It's been a hot minute since I did an episode fic, and this was fun to write.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None. Might make your heart hurt.

Words: 3.4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The drive back to his apartment is silent.

Emily had spent weeks driving him around. At first, it had been for follow-up appointments with his doctor and his physical therapist. She’d sit in the waiting room, a case file open in her lap that she was barely able to pay attention to, wishing more than anything that she could sit by his side, that she had the right to be there with him. The first time she drove him anywhere was when she picked him up from the hospital, her smile kind and her chest aching as he finally gave up on insisting he didn’t need a wheelchair to make it to the car. Emily could still remember the look on his face, something she knew was shame painted across his features as a nurse pushed him towards where she was parked by the front entrance, a bag of his things that she’d brought in for him slung over her shoulder. They hadn’t really spoken about it, and he hadn’t fought her help since his initial attempt to insist he could get home from the hospital by himself, so when it came to him coming back to work it seemed like the natural next step that she’d drive him there too.

Even during that first journey, they’d spoken. Conversations that got easier over time, everything that was unsaid and hanging in the air around them lighter each time he got in her car, their ability to ignore all the almosts and maybes improving each time.

This was different.

She was angry at him for putting himself in danger in a way she wasn’t sure she had a right to be, her hands tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles paperwhite as skin stretched over bone, whilst she desperately tried not to yell at him. All the feelings she’d had for weeks threatening to break free from where she’d buried them. Emotions she refused to name simmering beneath her skin again just like they had when she realised he was missing and found his blood on his living room floor - a vivid bloom she could still see whenever she closed her eyes.

They’d been dancing on the edge of something more than friends for a while now. They took it in turns leading, pulling the other along until they almost made it to the climax of the dance they’d fallen into, cursed to stop just before by circumstance and interruptions each time.

It started when he found her after the case with Matthew. She’d been wandering the streets, coldness seeping into her bones, when she heard Aaron’s voice. She was half convinced she was imagining him at first, sure she was in the first stages of hypothermia and her brain was playing tricks on her, and then he was next to her. His hand on her arm, the warmth of his touch through her coat almost as burning as the concern in his eyes. He’d shrugged his coat off, ignoring her instance that he was fine, his kindness falling over her like the snow around them landed on his shoulders. He’d taken her home, put the heater in his car on max, and kept his silence. He’d followed her into her apartment and made her a cup of hot chocolate and something to eat whilst she changed.

When he tried to leave, his smile kind and as soft as she’d ever seen it, she found herself stopping him before she could think about it, not sure why she wanted him to stay but entirely sure she didn’t want to be alone. She hadn’t told him everything that night, but she’d told him that Matthew had helped her when no one else had, and that she wished she’d been able to do the same for him. He told her that she had helped him, that she’d got him the justice he deserved, and when she looked up from the soup he’d warmed up for her, soup she wasn’t even aware she had in her fridge, the way he was smiling at her made her stomach flip.

It didn’t take long for her to return the favour. Foyet had appeared in their lives when she was still recovering from Matthew’s loss, and she’d been able to focus on Aaron instead. She watched as he struggled with how everything with Foyet happened, and when she showed up at his door, takeout and alcohol in hand, he told her about the deal he refused to take. How he immediately worried he’d made the wrong decision. She told him in no uncertain terms that he’d made the right call, that he wouldn’t be him if he had taken the deal, and she knew it had comforted him.

They’d become each other’s confidants. A friendship that was quickly turning into more, a mutual attraction right there between them - a third partner in their friendship that was getting harder to ignore.

After the case with the anthrax, she kissed him. Her blood still thrumming with all the what could have beens and a recognition that it could have all been over before she even knew what it was like to kiss him. The moment her lips touched his she worried she’d misread everything, his stillness against her heavy and heart shattering. It took him a second to react, the longest second of her life, and then he wrapped his arm around her waist, his other hand on her cheek as he held her in place.

If it was up to her, she would have pushed him back onto her couch there and then. Let herself get lost in him and let him do the same with her. But he’d stopped her, his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle but reverent, as he said he wanted to take her on a date first. To talk about where they stood, to know that they were both on the same page. Despite herself, despite the desire for him making her practically vibrate, she’d agreed. Kissed him again, softer this time, as she grumbled he’d better not make her wait too long.

They’d had to rearrange their date twice. He’d smiled apologetically the second time, his eyes gentle as he pulled her aside, his hand tight around hers as he promised they’d go for dinner when they got back from Canada, a soft kiss pressed against the corner of her mouth, the taste of the promise he’d had to break through no fault of his own still lingering on her lips.

They hadn’t spoken about it since. Whatever they were about to be, whatever she worried they no longer could be, wasn’t important anymore. Not when he’d been so viciously attacked in his own home. Not when he’d been separated from his son.

She was grateful that he let her drive him to work and to his appointments. That he let her look after him in the only way she could, her palms always itching to reach out for him, to kiss him in a way she’d only been able to do a handful of times.

She didn’t want to call it love, even though that’s what she was sure it was, because it felt too soon. Too much.

It felt like it might be the very reason she’d end up with a broken heart.

When she turns off the engine of her car and opens her door, he tries to argue that she doesn’t have to walk him up, something she shuts down with nothing but a look and a raised eyebrow. She follows him into his apartment and closes the door behind them as he unsets the alarm she’d helped him replace. She presses her lips together when he switches the light on, her attention immediately drawn to the piles of boxes full of what she knows are Foyet’s case files. Everything she can’t feel for him, everything she wants to say but won’t, pools inside her hollow chest, the weight of it almost pulling her under until she hears him speak.

“You didn’t have to walk me up here you know.”

She looks over at him and sighs, “I know,” she says, her smile sad and fleeting as their eyes meet. She doesn’t want to leave. Doesn’t want to be alone or for him to be either, so she thinks of something else to say, something that was safe and that wouldn’t bring up everything they’d silently agreed not to talk about. “So do you think Cal’s going to be okay?”

Aaron sighs and clenches his jaw, his hands in fists at his side to stop himself from reaching out for her at her obvious attempt to keep a conversation going. He wanted her so much, wanted to bask in her comfort, that it felt selfish. Everything had changed when Foyet attacked him except how he felt about her, but he couldn’t drag her into this. Couldn’t pull her into the mess that his life had become and put her in danger.

He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt because of him. Her blood something he would never be able to wash from his hands.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, not sure what else he can say, his gaze drifting to the floor between them.

“He got his answers. Killed the man who haunted him.”

His head snaps up as he looks at her, any pretence that they were talking about anything other than him, than about the two of them, gone as quickly as she’d started it. “Then what else is there?”

She knows he sees through her, he was one of the few who could, but she doesn’t care. This is the closest they’d come to talking about any of it since he’d been hurt, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop, “The years of torture.”

The look in her eyes makes him ache, and he turns around for a moment, looks around the apartment he doesn’t feel safe in but feels like he can’t leave, and looks back at her when he gathers himself. “Do you think he’ll get over that?”

“How could he?” She shrugs, her hands clasped in front of her so she doesn’t reach out for him, “But at least he doesn’t have to feel like he’s alone anymore.”

“He doesn’t have anyone.”

Not for the first time, she finds herself considering getting in touch with Clyde. Thinks about breaking years of silence and a promise she’d made herself to put it all behind her in the vague hope that her old boss and friend would be able to help. That his contacts would be able to do more than the FBI could. More than once in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep, the other side of her bed achingly empty even though Aaron had never slept there, she’d almost called Clyde. Her thumb lingering over the call button, her focus flicking between the number she didn’t have saved in her phone but knew by heart and her torn-up cuticles.

“He has Tommy,” she says, swallowing thickly, her throat stuffed full of everything she couldn’t and wouldn’t say, “He’s not alone.”

They fall into silence, the double meaning of everything they’d said so thick in the air around them his nod is barely discernible. As if he didn’t have the strength to push through it all to simply lift his head. She waits for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. She nods and turns to the door, ready to leave, and then he speaks, stopping her in place.

“Get some sleep.”

“You too,” she says, reaching for the door, but she stops herself. Unable to carry on. Everything that had been convincing her to give him space ever since he’d been in the hospital no longer making any sense to her. The weight of everything that had and that hadn’t happened between them heavy on her chest as she turns back to look at him, her hand still wrapped around the handle on his front door, “I’ll stay. If you ask me to.”

The silence that follows her offer is somehow heavier than the last, but she wouldn’t want to take it back even if she could. It’s the most honest she thinks she’s been in a long time, the desire to be near him, even if it wasn’t in the way she wanted to be, stronger than anything else.

He sucks in a breath and it catches on his ribs, sticks to still fresh scar tissue that would ache if he moved in just the wrong way. He couldn’t deny he wanted her to stay, and he was sure she could read that in his expression, but he couldn’t want it. He’d already lost Jack to his decision, his safety more important than his own desire to have his son near, and he wouldn’t lose her to it too, “Em-”

“I know things have changed, but the way I feel about you hasn’t,” she cuts him off, not sure she wants to hear all the reasons this wasn’t a good idea, not from him. She steps forward, tucking her car keys into her pocket and stops just short of touching him, “And I don’t think the way you feel about me has either.”

He chokes on a laugh, the thought of how he felt about her changing negatively, as if his feelings could do anything other than grow, almost ridiculous,” “Of course it hasn’t. You’re…of course it hasn’t,” he sobers, his shoulders slumping slightly as he steps towards her, the space between them now non-existent. His hand twitches as his side, and it takes everything in his power to not tuck her hair behind her ear, “I can’t put you in danger.”

Their embargo on not touching each other comes to a quiet end as she reaches out for him and links their fingers together, her palm pressed against his, his skin just as warm as she remembered. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” she tilts her head, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as her eyes meet his. “I want to be here for you. I want you.”

“I want you too.”

His admission escapes before he means it to, something he can’t hold back anymore. Weeks of having her within arms length, her not subtle but gentle care a comforting blanket he wasn’t sure he could have lived without. She smiles at him and leans in, stamping her lips against his cheek, his breath caught between them as she pulls back, her smile soft with a teasing edge to it.

“You have to ask me,” she says softly, needing to hear from him that he wanted her to stay, not sure she could cope if she felt like she’d inserted herself into his life when he didn’t want her there.

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers, taking a moment to breathe her in, “Will you stay?”

She considers joking. Considers flashing a wry smile as she pretends she can’t, but she knows now isn’t the time. That he needs sincerity and all the care he’ll allow her to give him, “Of course I can,” she kisses his cheek again, “I’ll get my bag from my car.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She smiles as she pulls back and she nods. She doesn’t tell him that she can do it herself, because she knows this is more about him than her. His silent uncertainty about being alone after a case that had hit a little too close to home. They walk out to her car hand in hand to get her bag, and when they walk back over the threshold of his apartment it feels like everything and nothing has changed since they did the very same thing just a few minutes ago.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hesitant to let go of her hand as he locks the door behind them, the first step towards something new between them finalised when the lock clicks into place.

She shakes her head, “I’m not. I think I just need to sleep.”

“Me too,” he says, squeezing her hand, “You can get changed in the bathroom.”

Emily nods and steps towards the bathroom, smiling when he doesn’t let go of her hand, and she closes the gap between them again. She kisses him properly this time, her lips briefly pressed against his before she pulls back.

“You can let go of my hand,” she cups his cheek with her spare hand, “I’m not going to change my mind.” The look in his eyes, a kind of vulnerability she’d only seen once before when he first woke up in the hospital, hollows out her chest. It makes words she knows it would too soon for in normal circumstances try and climb up her throat. She swallows them down and strokes his jaw, “I’ll be here for you as long as you need me to be.”

He nods and squeezes her hand before he lets go, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

She makes quick work of getting changed into her pjyamas - an old Yale t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - and she takes her make-up off, only thinking about the fact this would be the first time he saw her without it once the deed was done. She seeks him out the moment she steps out of the bathroom, finds him in his bedroom dressed in an old Harvard t-shirt and grey sweatpants that make her cheeks feel warm.

She’d always found him attractive, even when she didn’t like him all that much. Before they started the slow walk to whatever this was, she always wondered if they’d eventually sleep together. She pictured it differently. She thought they’d yell at each other over something and fuck on his desk or in a hotel room somewhere. She never pictured this. The two of them standing a few feet apart in his bedroom, dressed in almost matching pjyamas, ready to sleep next to each other in the literal sense, another small step towards what she thinks might be their forever.

“You can sleep in Jack’s room if you like,” he offers, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “If you don’t mind Captain America sheets.”

She shakes her head and steps towards him, linking their fingers together again as she smiles softly, “As much as I’m sure his bed is comfortable,” she says, a smile flickering across her face, “I’m sure yours is comfier.”

It makes him smile despite everything. The gap in his heart his son had left behind. The worry he had that he’d never get him back. The feeling he couldn’t shift that he was putting Emily in a situation he shouldn’t be. He finds himself wishing he’d let her talk him into going further than just kissing that first night, that he had given himself the chance to know her, to let her know him, before his body was changed beyond his own recognition.

At least he’d have known then what it was like to love her like he did without the guilt that forever chased it now.

“Left or right?” He asks, and she smiles, her hand squeezing his.

“Right.”

They climb into bed, each laying on their respective sides before he makes the first move this time, shifting towards her until their sides touch. She shifts onto her side and moves towards him, his arm hooking around her as she rests her head on his shoulder. There was so much both of them wanted to say and so much that they couldn’t. So they lay there, slowly but surely tangling themselves around each other like vines. Wordlessly wrapping themselves together, a kind of connection rooted in their understanding of each other and what they both wanted next.

“God, you’re like a furnace,” she says eventually, smiling when he chuckles, the vibration of it passing from his chest to hers as he pulls the covers over them both, “I could get used to this.”

He kisses the top of her head, and hopes that she understands everything he presses into it. That she feels the love he cannot put into words yet passing from his skin into hers.

“I could get used to it too.”

#aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #hotchniss

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

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I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Riddle genre: fluff, hint of drama note: continuation of villain/ess au Riddle ver., hints of obsessive behavior (heroine), roughly 1.2k word count

series masterlist

After a week of being snowed in and getting sick TWICE, I live!

The heroine was set to appear during his birthday celebration a few years into his reign as king. The original story was a classic tragedy where love is trapped between bliss and justice. According to the text, the heroine was said to have truly loved the tyrannical Riddle but his madness inevitably compelled her to go against her beloved.

However, since you’re working to avoid that version of your childhood friend, you assumed that the love would flourish in this more peaceful environment. When you asked Riddle if he had met the heroine, it seems that he may have been aware of her but was preoccupied with his pursuit for the throne. His response was very much like him

“Yes, I’m aware of that family and their daughter. Since I am the king, I would know my subjects. What about them?”

Wanting Riddle’s happiness, you asked to be in charge of the guest list to Riddle’s birthday celebration and despite your own feelings, ensured that the heroine’s family was invited. It was a party such as this that brought their fates together so you were simply setting up the scene earlier.

“I don’t think I’ve seen King Riddle this moody” Trey looked over your shoulder to watch Riddle stand alone before a few hopeful noble children walked up to him. “Are you really ok with this?”

You were made aware that every year Riddle chose to only dance with his closest aides, Trey and Cater, for his second dance instead of interacting with others. It was said that it was because he already felt uncomfortable dancing with someone with romantic intent since he had you, regardless how incapacitated you were at the time. As much as you felt butterflies flutter when you heard that, a sense of guilt and fear settled in you. You never wanted your choices to haunt Riddle this way but you realized your absence affect your old friend more than you think.

“Riddle’s only idea of a romantic partner is me, someone his mother arranged and then imprisoned.” a solemn look rests in your eyes. “I’m worried that Riddle may still feel guilty for my imprisonment, so tonight he should have the chance to choose his love without me as a burden”

“I’m sure King Riddle doesn’t-“ Trey tried to argue but you cut him off, standing your stance on the matter.

“This would be good for Riddle.” you insisted as you subtly maneuver your body to search for the redhead. You specifically ask him to dance with someone new, for the experience. And the sweet man he is, reluctantly agreed to your request.

With mixed feelings, you saw him dancing with someone else already and lo and behold, it was none other than the heroine. Out of the dozens of admirers in the crowd, the two managed to find their way to each other given the chance.

"I wonder if this was fate"

“See? Perhaps we’ll be introducing a new queen soon enough” you joked half-heartedly, tearing your gaze away from the dancing duo.

“He would be crushed if he ever heard you” Trey let out a sigh over the troubled couple he had to deal with. He glanced behind you and his lips suddenly formed a smirk. “You said you wanted Riddle to have the right to choose for himself, right?”

You grew skeptical of the bespectacled man but nodded your head anyway.

“Then, you should prepare yourself for his choice” he smirked.

You were confused over your friend’s cryptic words before you heard a soft sound, someone clearing his throat behind you.

Riddle stood behind you, taking a quick glance to you before speaking to your dance partner. “Pardon the intrusion but I’d like to request a dance with my spouse, if you don’t mind”

Trey hid his chuckle under his breath, barely disguising it as a cough. He released your hand and bowed to his King before leaving the two of you alone.

Choosing to ignore the blatant laugh of his aid, he turned to you with a soft gaze and offered his hand to you. “May I have this dance?”

Without second-guessing, you took his hand and nodded your consent. The two of you began to sway to the sounds of the live instruments. The rest of the attendees took the cue to make way for the royal couple to take center stage, which should make you a little nervous but being with Riddle tends to wash away such nerves.

You started the conversation. “So, how was your second dance?”

“It was…an experience, I supposed” Riddle answered a bit too unenthusiastic to your liking.

“A good one?” You pressed on as the two of you twirl in unison to the music.

“If you mean that it went as expected then yes” Riddle replied indifferently. “It’s standard for children of nobility to perform a simple waltz, afterall”

“Noooo, Riddle” you groaned at such a lackluster response which startled Riddle. “Dancing should be fun and enjoyable, romantic even”

You should have expected that Riddle would see this as a nobleman's obligation rather than a moment of bliss but you couldn’t help your expectations. You let out a sigh as you made a mental note to teach Riddle the nuances of romance instead of just throwing him into the water at the first chance. Lesson learned, you supposed.

Riddle, on the other hand, was starting to sweat. He hasn’t realized how different the concept of dancing could be for others. He perfected the art as a standard of the noble class but you seem to see dancing as an enjoyable and even intimate activity. Does this mean when you dance with others, you are enjoying the closeness of others? Do you rather dance with someone like Trey because it was more enjoyable with him than with your own husband?

“Am I…” Riddle hesitated which caught your ears. “Am I fun to dance with?”

You blinked, taking in the question. You watched your childhood companion fidget in your grasp, his body still in time with the music but you caught the slight shake in his fingers and his avoidant gaze. You wanted Riddle to experience romance but instead you brought up an insecurity over his lack of understanding the details.

“Good grief, I’m the worst”

Riddle felt your hand in his grasp shift, making him nervously believe that he had offended you in some way. However, your fingers worked to spread his own so you could interlocked your fingers between his. You called his name which Riddle automatically responded by turning his gaze solely on you.

“I absolutely love dancing with you, Riddle” you assured him with a bold proclamation, which elicited a red flush in Riddle’s cheeks. You may enjoy teasing him but your words always hold truth in them. You questioned him back, “How about you?”

Riddle recalled the times he danced without you. Aside from tonight, he has only danced with his mother, Trey, Cater, and even Chen’ya on occasion but the moment he shared with you in his hold as you allowed the music to sway you and Riddle unconsciously letting you manipulate his movement to your pace, felt incredibly different. It was the same type of music and the same type of dance, but yet the warmth and energy building in him feels so much better than anything he had experienced before.

He finally answered, smiling the largest he has all night, “I think I love it too”

Hidden in the crowd, a pair of eyes bore angrily at the couple. The heroine glared intensively at you without your notice, envious of the affection pouring out from the king for you. No one has ever witnessed their King treat someone this kindly but for all to see, Riddle held you like you were a precious jewel and gaze at you with the such admiration made it too obvious to anyone in the room how important you were to their ruler.

“I refuse…I absolutely refuse!”

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #villainess au

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reveryfics · 7 days ago

Note

More from bucky x male reader please.

( ´∀｀)ノ～ ♡

Mreader tells bucky that he loves him.

Those Simple Words

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Male reader

Summary: Late one night, Bucky gets a pleasant surprise by three simple words.

A/n: Having a bit of writers block lately so bare with me.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The city slumbered beneath a blanket of snow, each lamppost casting long, ethereal shadows across the deserted streets. The moon, a silver coin in the velvet sky, bathed the scene in an ethereal glow. Snow crunched softly beneath Bucky's boots, a rhythmic counterpoint to the steady beat of his heart. His hand, tucked deep within the pocket of his coat, sought the warmth of his boyfriend's, their fingers entwined like branches of an ancient oak.

Their relationship was still young, a delicate flower blooming amidst the wintry landscape of their lives. Yet, the years of unwavering friendship had laid a sturdy foundation, a deep and abiding trust that weathered any storm. They walked in companionable silence, their breaths mingling in the frosty air, the city lights a distant, shimmering backdrop to their shared world.

Bucky, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, found himself grappling with the weight of his past. The specter of Hydra, a monstrous shadow that haunted his dreams, threatened to extinguish the fragile flame of his newfound happiness. He yearned to confide in his beloved, to lay bare the scars that marred his soul, but the words caught in his throat, choked by the fear of rejection, of being deemed unworthy of love.

His boyfriend, ever perceptive, gently squeezed Bucky's hand, his gaze unwavering. "You alright, Barnes?" he asked, his voice a low, melodic hum. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes, a silent promise of unwavering support.

Bucky, captivated by the warmth in those eyes, managed a weak smile. "Just thinking," he mumbled, his gaze drawn to the swirling snowflakes.

They resumed their walk, the silence punctuated by the rhythmic crunch of snow beneath their boots. His boyfriend, ever considerate, leaned against Bucky, seeking the warmth of his body, his presence a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of Bucky's mind.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the gentle hush of the falling snow.

The confession struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, leaving him breathless, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. The words, so simple yet profound, echoed in the stillness of the night, a testament to the depth of his lover's affection.

Bucky, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, remained silent, the weight of his unspoken love a heavy burden on his chest. Fear, a venomous serpent, coiled around his heart, whispering doubts and insecurities. What if he wasn't worthy of this love? What if he shattered this fragile happiness with his own two hands?

His boyfriend, sensing his hesitation, gently pulled him to a stop, his eyes filled with an understanding that transcended words. "You don't have to say anything, Bucky," he murmured, his voice soft as the falling snow. "I know it's not easy. I know the weight of your past still weighs heavily on your soul. But trust me, Barnes, I'd wait an eternity for you to say it back, in your own time."

He gently cupped Bucky's face, his thumb tracing the contours of his cheek, a gesture of tenderness that sent a shiver of longing through Bucky. "Just know," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "that my love for you is unwavering, a constant in this ever-changing world."

Bucky, finally able to breathe, looked into his lover's eyes, his heart overflowing with a love that had been dormant for far too long. "You mean it?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

A soft chuckle escaped his lover's lips, a sound that warmed Bucky to his core. "Of course I do, you magnificent idiot," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against Bucky's in a kiss as gentle as the falling snow, a kiss that spoke volumes of affection, of trust, of a love that transcended words. Bucky, lost in the moment, responded with a fervor that mirrored his lover's passion, their lips moving in a dance of intimacy, their souls entwined in a silent, unspoken vow.

They pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, their breaths mingling in the frosty air.

"Let's go home," his boyfriend murmured, his voice husky with lingering passion. "It's getting late, and I wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

As they walked hand-in-hand through the snow-covered streets, Bucky knew that this was just the beginning, the first chapter in a love story that promised to be as timeless as the stars themselves.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #queer fanfiction #third person #x male reader #xmalereader #gay #gay fanfiction #marvel #bucky x male reader #bucky barns x reader #marvel bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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valkyrieromanoff · 2 years ago

Text

GUESS THE LINE: Pedro Pascal x actress! reader

Summary: You and Pedro play Guess the line.

Tags: can be read in a platonic way or not, fluff, just friends having fun together.

A/N: My college is back and it's already killing me. I should be finishing my internship report, but here I am finishing one more imagine about Pedro Pascal.

I hope you enjoy it, and sorry for the spelling mistakes.

“Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal”

“And I’m Y/N”

“And this is” Your co-star began, tilting his head to face you so that you could speak together. “Is this a line from Caught Eye?”

"I confess my memory is not the best, but we'll see how it goes." You said while staring at the papers on the table.

Pedro took the first one and looked at the paper for a moment before returning to you. “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready.” You joked.

“Born ready..” Pedro repeated laughing, as if he thought the pun was very funny. He took another look at the paper. "This one's pretty easy. You'll get it right."

“I'll get this wrong, just because you said it.” You smiled.

“You stay awake, do you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please, come on!” Pedro read the sentence, making his tone more serious.

"It's your line, Caught Eye, Miguel." You said it, lightly tapping your head as if it were obvious. "That scene, with a lot of fake blood involved, still haunts me." You reminded.

"Really? I found it so relaxing to sit in the snow while they threw more fake blood over it." Pedro sneered, waiting for you to grab another paper.

"Come on." You muttered, after reading the sentence.

"What? You don't know where the phrase is from?" Pedro asks, tilting his head to see what's written but returning when he remembers that the point of the game was to guess.

"I know, it's just a coincidence." You explained, reading on. “Did you really not see it? Or were you too afraid to look?”

"Um, I'm not sure." He muttered, scratching his beard, making an exaggerated expression of contemplation. "I'm kidding, it's Miguel, Caught Eye. Those are so easy."

"I said, better than I imagined." You agreed, tossing the paper aside.

Pedro laughed when he read the line on the paper. He straightened in his chair, preparing his southern accent to recite.

“How would you like to ride home a real cowboy? I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie’s out all night. So you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.”

You laughed, because you knew the answer. In fact, everyone with tiktok knew exactly where that audio was from.

“Agent Whiskey, Kingsman: The Golden Circle.” You said, and Pedro responded with 'ding, ding, ding'. "When you released that film, did you imagine that six years later, it would bomb again because of your character?" Pedro chuckled and shook his head.

"Surely, I knew that at some point, Whiskey would be the star." He joked. "I'm kidding, I never thought that would happen. I guess it was a nice surprise that thousands of people out of nowhere liked me."

"Who doesn't like you, Pedro?" You said, as he smiled discreetly.

You picked up a new paper.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I’m trying to care.” You read, uncertain.

You read, uncertain.

"You don't know what movie it is?" Pedro asked, noticing your confusion.

"I have no idea."

Pedro laughed.

“Dieter, The Bubble.”

"How did you know?" You asked curiously.

"I played him." Pedro shrugged as you blushed embarrassedly.

"Well, it must be a good movie." You retorted, waiting for him to pick up the next line.

“Just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it isn't there.” Pedro read, staring at you expectantly.

"Caught eye."

"Who said that?" He asked.

"Me, I said it."

"You're right." Pedro confirmed, tossing the paper away.

"That's a good one." You commented, reading the sentence. “It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway. You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

"It's from The Last of Us, Joel tells Henry when Sam and Ellie are playing." Peter spoke up, celebrating his answer. "I'm really good at that."

You chuckled.

Pedro stared at the paper, and shook his head thoughtfully.

"You don't know what it is?" you asked curiously.

"No, I know, I was just trying to remember when it happened." He spoke.

“Silly girl, can’t you see the truth in front of you? You mean nothing to him, you’re just bargaining chips for his freedom.”

"I remember that one, Caught Eye, Alexander says that to me." You stated. "I remember my face getting swollen from crying so much in that scene, Mads Mikkelsen is a really great actor, he acts his part so well."

"He really is, he can convey that aura of complex and morally grey characters." Pedro agreed.

"Okay, I hope you get that one right. Otherwise we'll have problems," You played along, while Peter raised his hands in a sign of peace.

“You give out pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture.”

“Oh, that’s Lost.”

"What?" you exclaimed confused.

"I'm kidding, Caught Eye, Anna." Pedro spoke up, moving his shoulders as if the answer was obvious. "Your character said that to mine, while they were hiding in a sewer tunnel."

"Yeah, it wasn't one of the best locations." You joked.

"Only two left." Pedro commented, choosing one. He cleared his throat, leaving his tone of voice low and murmuring. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

"Oh, it's Din Djardin." You spoke, while your co-star nodded in agreement. "I'm just unsure if it's The Mandalorian or The Book of Boba Fett, because you said that in both."

"That's right, but they put The Mandalorian in here." Pedro agreed, showing the paper to you.

"Ready for the last one?" You asked, pretending to think of which paper to pick up.

"More than ever."

"This is a tricky one." You muttered. "Everybody works for somebody."

"I feel like it's something a lot of characters in different shows and contexts could have said ." Pedro spoke up, fixing his glasses. "Can I get a hint?"

"Okay, everything I think makes it very obvious." You spoke, trying to think. "Okay, pay attention."

Pedro nodded his head in agreement.

"Cocaine, wait, can I say that?" You scolded yourself, remembering that kids could watch the interview online.

Pedro laughed, tilting his head back slightly, his eyes almost closed, crinkling at the sides.

"Narcos, Javier Penã." He said. "That was a good line."

"Those catchphrases you use before cut the scene." You agreed.

"Well, looks like we're out of lines." Pedro commented, looking at the empty table. "I had a lot of fun guessing which ones belonged to whom."

"You were great at the game." You praised him.

"You got them all right, I think we make a good team." Pedro spoke, stretching his arms out for you to clap hands.

"Yeah, we are." You agreed, slapping his hand, a slight noise sounding.

You both laughed.

#pedro pascal x actress reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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starberry-cupcake · 9 months ago

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I have made the most 2008 goth forum-like banner I could create to put my liveblogging posts of tlt under because those are the vibes I find appropriate and it gives me nostalgia. If this was 2008 blogspot, you'd be hearing something like HIM's Wings of a Butterfly, or something like that, please picture that.

previously, in gideon the ninth:

this happened

were we are now:

I forced myself to stop reading for the day so I could update a sensible amount and not a thesis length post nobody will read

it wasn't easy to force myself to stop reading

you know how it is

so, turns out that protozoa was dead all along (ish)

people here die and live and kinda live-die and die-live, you know

dulcinea del toboso soraya montenegro septimus was hiding that fact

she has also not mentioned exactly how he died (she said an accident??? harrow said he was stabbed?? what, he fell on a sword heart first????)

I am still not done with her

I still don't trust her

she's gonna die and I'm gonna still think she's scheming

ANYWAY

gideon DID suspect harrow

she had a bit of a crisis over it in front of palmolive's salad

palmolive reacts by taking off and putting on his glasses 25 times

and harrow had my exact thought process of "she's gonna go to dulcinea instead of me if she finds out"

I am very unnerved at how much my thought process and harrow's have aligned so far

very concerned for my mental state

ANYWAY (vol. 2)

palmolive says what I said, that it's not harrowcita's style to kill so sloppily

gideon tells palmolive her past trauma and how all the kids in the ninth except her and harrowbeth died and how she blames herself because harrow kinda had the childhood of asuka langley soryuu in evangelion but worse

palmolive does this

camilla, the moon to my stars, the woman of the year, my qp wife, brings in harrow with a handcuff

so, let me set the scene

there's a guy's head in a box, gideon has told palmolive her life story, and in comes camilla with harrow on a kid harness like she's a scary parent at disneyland

this is a sitcom

anyway, they all go to dulcinea's lair and have a talk with the group

I still kinda stan yandere twin ianthe (sp??), I'm not gonna lie you folks

she's ooky kooky spooky in a fun way

like, deranged (affectionate)

so, as usual, nobody agrees on anything and everyone fights and dulcinea coughs up a hairball

now, harrow and gideon go to the pool

which is salty now, much like gideon

my first thought was "gideon can't swim, she's gonna drown like sonic!!"

but they could stand in the pool apparently so it's fine

I mean, physically it's fine, EMOTIONALLY not so much

it's time to come clean, share trauma and also maybe flirt in the pool, if that's what's going on here

I think it's what's going on

it's hard to tell with them, but there's tension, proximity and hugs and stuff

basically, if I understand correctly, the ninth put all the kids in an infomercial blender and harrowbean was powered into life

but gideon is baby hercules and survived

which explains why she was turned into a blood sprinkler and the next day she was doing push ups like a maniac

I mean, it explains why she could physically do that, not why she thought that's the safe thing to do

so the ninth was like ?????? and feared gideon

and proceded to treat her like konoha treated naruto uzumaki

no adult person in the ninth was making sound decisions, it's what I'm getting at

case in point: ortus and his mom were blown to bits

also, very important

if I understood right, there's a frozen girl in the ninth's fridge tomb

a frozen girl like dr victor fries's wife nora in batman, or hyoga's mom in saint seiya, or han solo

ice cube frozen girl with a sword and chains and the vibe of this specific barbie doll from the haunted beauty collection

it's like if snow white was the apocalypse

you're gonna hate all my references by the end of this

I'm so sorry

there's a threat in a girl, in the ice, in the tomb, in the ninth house, that's the gist of it

and harrow has existential trauma because pretty much every person below the age of 18 died for her to live, so she wants to make it count

and gideon is hercules who comes from elsewhere and has the genes of a demigod or a kryptonian

but all of that doesn't matter, what matters is that harrow says the most metal phrase ever and goes: "I am a war crime"

?????? HELLO?????

and here's the thing (I have told you this @lady-harrowhark ), this is the book @ me every time I discover some truth and I look at my ebook's progress bar

if you're not completely annoyed, I'll be back tomorrow with more reactions to reveals

#luly reacts to tlt #tlt #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #long post #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb spoilers #gideon the ninth spoilers

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idkfitememate · 10 months ago

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I’m So Sorry

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Freshly Turned Demon! Reader x Tanjiro & Nezuko (+ others mentioned)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2.6k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Angst to fluff, many much death, mental crisis

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Got bored couldn’t sleep so here are my jumbled up thoughts from too late, sorry if it’s misspelled or not GN (plus idk who the character you’re speaking too is as I write this note) I’m not in an aware state of mind rn LMAOOOO-

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

Over and over you repeated those words to a still Tanjiro as you clutched at his pants, kneeing on the pebble-ridden ground.

Behind you and in front of him was a desolated village, corpses strung about in different ways.

Blood soaked into your skin and caked your hair. The iron stench followed you as your fingers forced the crimson liquid onto this clothes, taunting him with your sin.

That same sin that left your mouth a bloody mess.

He could recall a time, a much happier time, when he would call to you on summer days and you’d both sit in your worn and hand-me-down clothes and shoes, holes stitched closed and teeth missing, in the middle of flower fields. One making a flower crown for the other as you both stared into the bright blue sky speckled with fluffy white clouds.

How you’d knock your heads together, you always complaining about how hard his was - like stone you’d say - when you both laid in the tall grass.

How your hand would encompass his as you dragged him through the streets of the small town down the mountain from where he lived.

Where he lived…

Turning away from your still sobbing form, he took a glance at the mountain in the distance.

His mountain.

… Once upon a time, that had been your nickname for him.

“My Mountain.”

It was meant to show how he was the one thing keeping you grounded, something to look and gaze upon in awe and wonder. A force of nature not to be trifled with and a pillar of hope amongst men.

… His sword felt heavy in his hand. A part of him itching to get it over with. He’d raise his arm up high to the gods and slash it down with honor. To feel the blood on his skin.

Your blood.

Another part desperately wanted… no. Needed to understand why. Why you choose to become this, this is… if you choose.

A scene of thick snow in a barren forest played through his mind. That same stench that floated around you filled his nose with the sharp coolness that winter often brought. A heavy weight on his back as tears blurred his vision, causing him to misstep and fall, tumbling down a small… it was larger than a hill but smaller than a cliff, he reasoned.

That horrid growling that haunted his dreams. It had gotten better as months passed, but that first growl he heard had been etched into him, into his very soul. Stitched into his being as a driving force to ensure he never heard it again.

That she’d never make that noise again.

Your wails broke him out of his trance, cold gaze meeting your puffy eyelids as you sobbed louder, his eyes locking onto your sharpened teeth, still stained with blood, something small stuck to your canines.

Hair and flesh.

His stomach twisted but he forced the feeling down. With how wide your mouth was opened, he could see down your maw and into your throat. He watched as it flexed and moved, gyrated almost, as you forced those retched screams and cries from your throat, begging for some kind of mercy.

He was sickened, as he had every right to be. You were no longer human. You had committed a terrible sin, his mind reminded. Unlike the one he was trying to save, you gave into those urges, those horrid, vile and canabalistic desires.

Though, could they be called canabalistic anymore?

You weren’t human.

Your sharpened nails tore through the fabric of his pants, gracing his skin with red lines that slowly began to bleed. Your eyes, when they opened, had oddly shaped pupils and shining colors, entrancing almost. Your skin was unnaturally colored, with bulging veins running across the surface. Your hair was a shade no humans could ever reach, shining and plentiful and in seemingly good health, unlike when you were… alive.

He remembers when you both had met for the first time.

He was younger and his father was in much better shape, taking both coal and wood down the mountain with his son not far behind.

Your mother owned a small stand that sold small hand-made trinkets and otherwise made from wood.

He was hugged to his father’s leg as your mother bought wood directly from him to carve, her fingers marred and covered with bandages. He then saw you.

Your face was sunken and your eyes just a bit too big for your head. Or perhaps it was the fact that your head was just practically the skull, no fat or anything of the sort. It was the same for your body.

Small and thin, your clothes hung baggy off your body, almost looking two sizes too big for you. Your hair was thin and ragged, looking like a doll with its hair pulled out in chunks.

Despite this, you smiled at the other with far too many missing teeth, waving with your also bandaged hands.

He waved back.

Looking at you now as snot and tears dibbled pathetically down your face and into your mouth, that of which then drooled lazily onto the earth, he could still see some of the old you, the one he knew, in there.

They way the breeze shook you gently as though it would take your fragile body with it - no matter how light - or the way he had saw you hungrily shoving fistfuls of the meat down your mouth as though it might be stolen from you, how you shivered and jittered when you saw him in excitement before slowly beginning to shake and cry uncontrollably.

A small part of him felt bad, with how you crawled towards him on hands and knees, practically begging him to forgive you. How you prostrated yourself before him as though that would change anything, pleading with him to ‘help you’ and to ‘save you’.

His mind screamed that you were beyond saving.

That you were nothing like his sister.

He hadn’t even noticed his own crying until he felt sharpened claws on his cheek, though they weren’t yours as they were still buried to the hilt in his leg.

Instead, his gaze locked onto pink serpent like eyes, veins noticeable as the pupils dilated and contracted with visible worry. Long black hair with orange ends blocked you from his line of sight as the one he was doing this - all of this - stood before him.

His sister.

She turned to look at you, that same mixture of disgust yet pity rushing over her, he could smell it.

The siblings stood and stared down at your form as you continued to wail and cry. His sibling at his side gently grasped the blade in his shaking hand as she helped him raise it skyward, her palm gripping the back of his.

But just before they could release the blade-

“Wait!! Please!!”

A females voice called out from the carnage.

And out from your tiny hut at the end of the village crawled your mother.

She looked better than she had in the past, her skin having a much healthier glow than it had last time they had saw her, and she was much more steady on the old crutch the boy had seen her using as he left town to help his sister at the very start of their journey.

She hobbled over to your crying form, ‘shushing’ you and bending down, the crutch falling with a ‘thud’. She grabbed your head and rested it on her chest, running a hand through your hair as you continued to cry and beg for forgiveness. Tongue and throat bleeding from how worn they had become from your screams and hollers.

“I’m here… mothers here… you were doing so good… I know you didn’t mean too…” Her words settled over the scene like freshly fallen snow.

Her clothes and skin were untainted by your sin, a stark contrast to you, the boy, the girl - who had all but been drenched in blood by this point - and the bodies of those around you.

He couldn’t bear to look into their faces as he knew he’d recognize far too many of them.

Far to many lives snatched away.

He wondered how your mother, bless her heart and soul, could even look at you in this time. She obviously knew that you were the cause of this carnage and chaos, so how could she?-

“After you left,” she began, her words slicing through his train of thought, “the people turned on us. I could no longer offer my goods and services as we had no one to chop wood.”

You shook and shivered in her grasp, heaving heavily, greedily taking in massive gulps of air as though you deserved it despite the lives you took.

“It got to a point where we were forced to survive off the scraps and otherwise. Our home was taken from us and we were left in the alleys, begging to whomever would listen.”

Your voice was gone so you whimpered into her chest, listening deeply to her beating heart, something you would never allow to stop as long as it was in your power.

“Then one night, under the shadow of the moon, a man wondered into our quaint little alley. His eyes were as red as a plum, his hair as black as ink. His suit was western, black, white, and embroidered with gold.”

The boy watched as his sister’s eyes grew wide for a moment before lowering into a glare. He could hear your growl slightly from your face pressed into your mother’s neck.

“He attacked in a moment, speaking something of ‘not much, but it’ll do.’ He went for me first, I assumed it was because of my naturally weak state, so I resigned to my fate with little resistance, hoping he would spare my child in good faith. But instead, they jumped on his back, throwing hands on his eyes and head butting him, much like you would’ve, they said.”

She sighed, then moved your head to her thighs, you nuzzling into them with a whine.

“He pushed them into a wall, then jabbing a finger into their forehead. He glanced coldly at me, telling me I’d make a ‘Good first meal’. That was the day we learned of… Demons”

Her voice shuddered as she continued to run fingers through your hair.

“Though, when they awoke, they did not attack me, they stared. We learned the next morning of their vulnerability to the sun, I quickly hid them away. Forced them down from their sudden hungers when they showed, forcing them to sleep instead.”

The boy glanced to his sister. That was something you had in common, it would seem.

Sleep to hide the hunger pains.

“They were doing great, up until a few hours ago. Someone had taken things… too far. He stole my crutch, demanding I wed him despite my decrepit form, claiming he had eyes on me before my late husband. And when I said no, he slammed me to a wall, saying I had no say in the matter and he was to wed me anyway. That I should’ve felt happy that someone even glanced my way anymore, that I was ungrateful for not jumping on the opportunity, especially with a child living in poverty with me. I, of course, still said I objected, and then he… he slapped me. Something inside them snapped I tried to hold them back but… I suppose they were just tired with how they all dared treat us. Either as monsters tormenting us, or by-standers doing nothing.”

All eyes melted into your form as you snored lightly, chest finally rising and lowering at a normal pace. Tears still ran down your face, however.

“Truly, they are sorry. Don’t you understand?”

Her hand went to the boys sister.

“You hold onto one just as closely as I. Do we not share a similar sorrow?”

‘We do.’ They boy though, wanting nothing more than to steal his sister away from this world, to stow her away from this worlds gaze till the end of time.

And yet, he had a duty to the people, and you had broken that cardinal sin.

So with his still raised hand, connected to his sister, he whispered an apology to both you and your mother, before swinging it down before her eyes.

Your head rolled peacefully off to the side, a smile and ‘thank you’ on your lips as you faded away, the dust of your form clawing into the air.

In your place, your mother wailed.

Two pairs of arms wrapped around her, grief filling the town as all three began to wept for innocents lost and time never to return now that it had been lost. As they huddled like a family, kneeling on the dirt pathway, as your mother’s kimono became drenched in your sin, the blood of others.

As the sun began to rise and they all moved into a still standing home, taking off their shoes as they entered. As they laid down onto the futon together on the tatami, cuddled into each other’s warmth.

Sobs dying down and becoming echos of the past as three heartbeats became one, breaths slowing to near halts as they reluctantly relaxed and gave into the gentle hands of sleep.

Then, Tanjiro woke up.

Surrounded by a softly snoring Nezuko and curled up Zenitsu who grumbled with the foot of a starfish-posed Inosuke in his face to his right.

On his left?

You and your mother, her skin, nails, and eyes matching yours as you both cuddled to his side to share warmth. His eyes met hers as she smiled.

“Thank you… for saving us from that awful fate Tanjiro…”

Her lips curled into a smile as you muttered something in your sleep, her arm reaching over you to push you into her body. Her arm continued to stretch, petting the redheads head.

“Your kindness truly is a gift of the gods…”

She yawned, licking her lips, before letting her head rest on the pillow given to her and you to share.

“Thank you…”

Tanjiro smiled at the people around him.

At his family.

Feeling safe and protected, he let himself drift off, feelings of comfort and contentment rushing through him like the roaring waves of the ocean or a flame burning bright within.

Yes… This was home.

And he’d do anything to protect it.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Alright that’s enough writing okay byyyyeeeeee I’m gonna go to sleep nowwwww Good niigghgttttttt

I’m delirious :3

#kny #kny x reader #tanjiro kamado #nezuko kamado #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #gn reader #demon reader #Ik I said it’s like 1-2:30 an rn but I just ate like five chocolates #I’m ruining my body but it’s kinda fun/funny so im alright wit it #hehe

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star-girl69 · 1 year ago

Text

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i don’t have an explanation for this either. enjoy it while it lasts. i hope you all enjoy!!

side note but this is the chapter that started it all!!!!!!!!! it’s gonna be a long one. i thought of the title ultraviolence and then what happens and this chapter title is what came from it.

*if you’re curious, the title comes from the lyric “jim taught me that loving him was never enough”

warnings: reader gets punched (sorry i had to give y’all a true y/n moment), lottie gets brutally beat up by shauna, mentions of blood and such, i’m sure you all remember this scene….., swearing ofc, kissing, allusions to hot and heaviness lol, mentions of infant death, then actual described death, knives, attempted murder, like a lot of violence, cannibalism!!!!!!!, ritualistic sacrificing, ITS HERE Y’ALL, Y’ALL KNOW WHATS HAPPENING, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Thirty One - Loving Her Was Never Enough

—-

1996-

The days after the birth are startling. You know what is should feel like. You should be fussing around the baby, you should be complaining when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, but it’s just not.

The cabin is silent, you think maybe for the first time since you’ve been here. Silent. Eerily silent.

Shauna lays in the same bed she gave birth in, Tai sits next to her, and it’s all shrouded in this hazy layer of grief and anger and death. Everyone is just silent.

You sit on the chair by the window, Natalie at your feet, laying her head in your lap and you run your fingers over her blonde hair. Her roots are so bad now, but there is really nothing you can do. You wonder if it bothers her. She’s always hinted that she dyed her hair for a reason. You wonder if it haunts her now.

You watch Tai mutter forget Shauna about drinking something, but she turns around, he’s still in her arms, and she’s still silent. She hasn’t spoken a word since she woke up and held his little frozen body.

“Lottie?” you hear Tai ask. You look up from Nat’s blonde hair. “Do you see something?”

Lottie stands from the chair next to Shauna. “The snow. It finally stopped.”

Everyone sits up, now slightly eager to at least get out of this cursed and death-riddled cabin.

Travis and a few other girls quickly move, grabbing onto each other and the door, pulling and pulling while you grab Nat’s hand and wait for it to finally just burst open, like a bird waiting for their cage to open. Even if the hand coming in only brings food, you will bite and bite to get out.

And it does, it cracks open with a sickening crunch, snow spilling out like a tsunami.

“Holy shit,” Nat smiles, and you squeeze her hand, someone mutters about grabbing a bucket, and God at least you’re out. At least you can flap your wings, even if they’re not strong enough to get you out of the wilderness.

—-

You spend most of the day just floating around with Natalie. It’s peaceful, as much as you can get out here, your feet crunching through the snow and her hand in yours. Shauna buries her baby. Lottie, Misty, Akilah, Mari and Tai go out to search for Crystal after Misty conjures up some speech about their duty to find her even in the wake of his death.

You can’t do it, you can’t do anything except for ignore it and be here with Natalie.

—-

Much later, you’re all gathered around the fire, the search efforts abandoned for the day. Your hand is in Nat’s lap while she stares into the fire, and you’re listening to Misty go on about Crystal.

It made you feel bad for her, her cries and her speech, no matter how many looks Tai sends you about entertaining her, you can’t stop. Can’t take this from her. Even if the rumors being spread are that Misty murdered Crystal are true… you can’t. Because you don’t know.

If the rumors are fake and she’s really hurting… it doesn’t kill you to let her talk.

“And she was always singing,” Misty coos. “Always singing.” She starts humming along to a song you don’t recognize, but it is catchy.

“I’m sorry, Misty,” you say when she done. “Crystal is so wonderful… I hope you know that we’re here for you, and I’m sure she’s out there.” Lies taste bitter on your tongue.

She presses her hand to her chest, suppressing another cry, grabbing your hand and squeezing. When she moves onto the next victim, Natalie bumps your shoulder.

“You’re so nice to everyone. It makes me sick.”

“I’m just an angel, really,” you hold your hands above your head in a circle, a faux halo.

She smiles and grabs your hands, kissing your knuckles. “My angel. My nightshade.”

You grin stupidly because this girl really is your everything, and draw her in for a sweet kiss. Her mouth against yours is the same and yet wildly different every time. The way you fit together is always the same, like puzzle pieces, like you were made for each other. But the way she makes you feel each time your kiss varies.

Some times, like this, you’re just so happy you smile against her and your heart is just warm. Other times, your clash together hot and heavy, mouths open and teeth smashing, and she makes your entire body feel hot. Sometimes she just holds you so tight you know that there will never be anyone else for you- you just feel so completely and utterly hers, and better for it.

Van makes a gagging sound on the other side of the haphazard circle. You pull away with matching smiles, Nat shooting Van an unimpressed look.

“You and Tai are just as bad.”

The two girls look at each other before dramatically grabbing each other’s faces and pretending to roughly kiss, making you laugh. You adjust to turn towards them and not just Natalie, accidentally knocking over your cup of water onto the floor.

“Oh, shit,” you murmur. There wasn’t a lot in it, but still enough for you to warrant grabbing a spare rag to soak it up.

Nat rubs your knee as you stand, the door opening as you do and Shauna filing in. She obviously doesn’t want to be talked to. You feel bad, but you won’t force her to do something she’s not ready to do.

You stand up, humming Crystal’s song to yourself, heading for the rag on the table Melissa sits at.

“Why are you singing that?”

It takes you a second to realize Shauna’s talking to you. She’s turned completely towards you, something like hate festering in her features. It scares you.

You look towards Natalie, who looks just as confused as you.

You stare at Shauna like a deer in headlights.

“Where did you hear that song?”

“Um, uh, Crystal,” you breathe. “Misty was telling me-”

She comes towards you so quick no one can do anything to stop it. Her fists connects with your cheek, hard and uncoordinated because of her anger, and God does it fucking hurt.

You yelp and curl in on yourself, pressing your hand to your face and falling against the door.

“You killed my fucking baby!”

The sentence is the most terrifying thing you have ever heard. You barely even helped. You barely even helped.

Natalie is next to you in a second, you’re crying, she’s yelling and Shauna and whispering- Stop, Shauna! She did everything she could- Y/N, Y/N, baby, are you okay? Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Where does it hurt?

She presses her hands against your face, you hear the rage in Shauna’s voice and you’re terrified, you can’t catch your breath.

“No, shut up! You all fucking ate my baby!”

Shauna is beyond rationality. You look past Nat and see the pure hatred, the insanity in Shauna’s brown eyes. Van and Akilah are trying to hold her back.

She’s making no sense.

“I saw you! You were covered in blood!”

“Shauna, stop it!” Tai screeches. “You’re acting insane!”

Van suddenly yells and pulls her arm away. “Ow! God, she fucking bit me!”

Akilah let’s go of her, but Lottie is in front of Shauna now.

There’s tense moment. The entire room breathes heavily. She stops for just a moment.

Shauna grunts and punches Lottie in the face.

You flinch on principal and Natalie presses herself closer to you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she says, craning her neck to watch. You stare past her, entranced by the piece of rage that seems to have taken over Shauna.

Where did it start, you wonder? Her heart? Her lungs? Her liver?

Lottie brushes her hair out of her face and locks her hands behind her back.

“Travis, take Javi to the bedroom.”

You realize what’s about to happen.

“Lot?” Van asks, but she knows too.

“Shauna…” Lottie breathes, “I know there’s a lot of pain right now. Let it out.” No one moves. “Shauna, we need you, let it out.”

She swings. She meets her mark. Lottie staggers back but comes right back for more.

You breathe in.

Shauna hits her again and Lottie falls to the floor. She kicks her in the back. Again, again, again, again and again and Lottie jolts each time.

Natalie’s hands are shaking against you. Her nails dig into your sides where she now holds you. You’re breathing so much and not enough you don’t know how your lungs are still working.

Shauna climbs on top of Lottie and flips her over. She hits her. She hits her. She hits her. She screams and screams. And she hits her. She hits her. She fucking hits her until Lottie is passed out and unrecognizable, her face is bloated and bloody.

And no one does anything.

Finally, Shauna falls next to her, breathing heavily. She lays there and breathes. You’re not sure you breathe. Shauna sits up and looks at her.

“Lottie.” She doesn’t move. Of course she doesn’t. “Lottie.”

Lottie spits out blood. Then she breathes in. Laying on the floor, covered in blood, you swear you see the shape of white antlers in the fire behind her.

Shauna stands up and walks towards you. Natalie throws you behind her, but Shauna doesn’t look at you, she just walks past you and out the door.

Everybody rushes towards Lottie.

“What the fuck,” Nat breathes. “What the fuck.”

You press your burning face against her chest, cheek still imprinted with Shauna’s knuckles, and you cry. You cry.

—-

Akilah finds a mouse. She talks to it and it brings her comfort. She cries when Taissa shows her it’s not real.

—-

There’s blood everywhere. This wasn’t like Jackie. This is raw and disgusting. It tastes so bad and feels so good. You don’t stop until you’ve eaten what must be his entire arm. You’re all eating, you’re all moaning and groaning like you did that cold night with her.

There’s no smoke in the air this time to hide your sins.

Shauna runs in, there’s blood on your face and metallic in your mouth. She knows what happened. You don’t bother to wipe your face.

Shauna screams.

You wake up screaming, everyone is annoyed with you and groaning. You cry into Natalie’s arms. She says your name over and over again.

“I’m sorry, Shauna. I’m so sorry, Shauna. I’m so sorry.”

—-

You lean against Nat, the two of you sitting on the long bench against the wall, Coach Ben on the other end. The two of you have felt like a package deal lately. Sometimes you look at Shauna and you remember her rage and you feel your aching cheek- and you’re scared. You’re so scared.

Natalie looks at Shauna like she’s poison.

You don’t know why, you don’t know how, but you know the dream you had is not just what your mind conjured up. Somehow, someway, you know you saw what Shauna saw.

And that scares you so bad you don’t even tell Natalie. But she doesn’t ask, she just holds you through the nightmares, she holds you when Shauna’s near, she holds you when you remember.

You feel useless and stupid but you can’t get it out of your head. She doesn’t make you. You savor it a little longer until the next tragedy happens.

Nat squeezes your side unknowingly. You follow the sight line of her harsh glare and find Shauna picking up a blanket at Gen’s feet. Nat grabs your leg and hooks it over hers, she brings you closer.

“Sure,” Gen says sarcastically. “Go ahead.”

“You’re not using it and Lottie’s cold.”

“Now you give a shit about Lottie?” Melissa asks.

“Hey!” Van shouts, standing slowly. “Lottie took it from her to protect us. Don’t let that be for nothing.”

Shauna looks down. She looks at Gen and Melissa, and then she walks away.

Natalie’s voice is hushed when she speaks.

“Maybe Lottie dying wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

She moves her hand from your waist to the side of your head, pressing you further into her shoulder. Like she can just fold you into her, eat you up and keep you safe from this cruel wilderness. You wish you could do the same to her.

You know she’s not talking to you. You listen anyways.

“I mean, if she’s in pain, then… yeah. Maybe for the best,” is Coach Ben’s answer. The wilderness has forced you to talk about life and death like it is nothing. You wonder what special hell awaits all of you for squandering this gift.

Nat scratches your scalp. “Everyone’s just so… I don’t know. They’ve changed, because of her. It’s like she has some weird control over them or something.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“Right,” she says, and you could almost smile at the sarcasm in her voice. “Even Javi’s gone to the dark side.

“Oh, come on, Nat. He doesn’t even talk.”

Remembering Javi and everything he’s been through makes you feel sick.

“He doesn’t have to.” You feel her turn to look at Coach. “I saw him, like, bowing to a symbol tree the other day.”

“Which tree was it?”

“Hm, not far from the creek.”

You can feel Coach Ben realize something that terrifies him.

—-

Mari hears the dripping again, the dripping she’s been hearing for a while. Mari sees something. She screams. She says they’re dead. She cries when Taissa tells her nothing is there.

—-

When Natalie tells you of her plan to make Javi gloves, you say the first words you’ve said in three days that’s not panicked whispering in the middle of the night after a nightmare.

“Let me help.”

You do one glove and she does the other, managing to scrape together the materials- you’re grateful for Home-Ec classes now.

Faintly, you realize that Nat was in your class too. She sat in the back and was barely there, to be fair, but she was there. She was there before you knew to look for her. And that should seem sweet but it’s cruel, because it’s less time you could’ve spent looking at her.

You sit by Nat’s feet as she gives him the gift.

“They’re not that pretty.”

They’re beautiful because they were touched by her.

“And they don’t change color in the cold or anything.”

There’s magic in just being able to make Javi smile.

“But they might help.”

You watch him smile as he puts them on. You gesture towards him and he holds out his hands, letting you admire your handiwork on their final resting place. You smile. You smile and he smiles back. You turn his hands over before folding them up and squeezing them.

“Beautiful,” you whisper. Nat smiles.

You look up at her, but she’s not smiling anymore. She’s staring at him. At Travis.

“Need something?” she says. He leans against the doorway.

“No.”

He brushes his hair back and sits in Javi’s old place. You hate how uncomfortable Nat looks.

“You’re a good person. You’re both good people. And I’m sorry for… for ever making you feel otherwise.” Nat stares off over your head.

You stare at him. You grab his hand. Travis, Travis and Nat and you. That’s it.

It takes her a second, but she places her hand over yours and his.

—-

Not quite asleep yet, not quite awake, you lean against the wall together while you wait for someone to turn off the lantern. Nat is already asleep, her head in your lap, your hands again in her blonde hair.

Misty creaks down the ladder, Akilah scrambles from her sheets.

“Hey, how’s Lottie?”

“She’s, um…”

Your stomach drops, everyone sits up. Nat sits up, your hands fall from her hair.

“She said, um, if she dies… she wants us to make use of her. To stay alive.”

“Did she really say that? She must be really fucking sick.”

“I can’t imagine being here without her,” Van says, like it’s final. Like she won’t accept it.

“Me either,” Shauna says.

“Then let’s not.” Mari sits up. “Lottie isn’t gonna die. The wilderness won’t let her die.”

“It may not want her to, but if she’s starving… there’s no way she’s gonna live,” Travis says. He’s now sitting up next to you. You look at him.

“The same is true for all of us.” Nat says, her hand finds yours.

It’s for you, the way her fingers intertwine with her say. It’s for you, it’s for us, it’s for what we have.

Taissa sits up after a moment.

“Okay. We need to find a way to stay alive.” There is a deadly sort of focus, of a promise in her eyes. “And it can’t be her.”

—-

They set up the bone, the candle, the knife, all of it the same way they did during Shauna’s birth. That time, you were trying to save someone. This time, you’re trying to kill someone.

You watch them. You lean against the wall with Natalie.

“Nat,” you whisper, and it startles her because it’s been so hard for you to talk. “I’m scared. Why are we doing this? I… I dont want to die, Nat-”

“Shh,” she whispers, her hand on your face. “Not you. Not you, never you.”

And for some reason it comforts you.

Going into this circle means the chance to eat and the chance to die. But the hunger, hunger that you never thought a person could feel before, it hurts so bad you would do anything to stop it. It’s not you, it’s survival. It’s the primitive part of your brain your starving body reverts to, the part that would do anything to stay alive.

Most of the time that means fighting and killing animals. But there’s no animals to kill in these woods. There’s only humans. There’s only your friends.

The circle forms. Van flips through the cards before finding one. She holds it up. It’s the Queen of Hearts. The implication is silent but deadly. Whoever draws that card is the one who dies.

You watch her shuffle them. You’ve never been religious, but fear will turn you into whatever you have to be. You pray, even though some part of you thinks it’s no use, and a bigger part of you is too desperate to stop.

The circle is eerie and silent.

Some deep part of you screams to stop this. Screams for rationality, screams for any other way.

But you are beyond rationality. Nothing about this is rational or normal. This hunger is nothing short of a God-like experience- how can you want something so much that you would kill for it? How powerful could an emotion be that you would do this?

You’re staring down the jaws of death, the scent hitting your face, and you’re throwing someone else into the endlessness of its throat.

Van holds out the cards, face down, and Misty steps forward. She grabs the card at the top, her head level, eyes pointed down, she smiles and breathes in.

Misty spins around with her card, and everyone can see that she’s safe, this time, that it’s not the Queen.

Misty grabs the deck from Van and turns to Akilah. She stares at Misty, innocence in her eyes, but she grabs the card.

She doesn’t outwardly show what card she drew, not until she flips it around and places it over her heart.

Misty turns to Van. She isn’t subtle about it, she doesn’t wanna wait, she grabs the card quick and shows it to everyone. Not the Queen.

Shauna’s turn.

You can’t breathe. The hesitance is gone, everyone just wants to get it out with. You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. You find Nat’s hand and you squeeze so hard it must hurt, but she just squeezes right back.

Shauna does not draw the Queen.

Travis’s turn. You’re scared. You’re so scared, you love Travis- but he doesn’t draw the Queen either.

Tai doesn’t.

Melissa doesn’t.

Javi doesn’t. He runs to Travis, who hugs him and says it’s okay, but it’s not okay. You all know this is no okay, this is insane, but you’re too far in it to stop.

Misty holds out the cards to you. Oh. Oh, it’s your turn.

Natalie shuffles closer to you. You take it, you take it and you pray and pray that you’re not the one who’s throat will get cut today. You want to live, you want to live so bad it’s like a fire in your bones.

You flip the card over.

Eight of Hearts.

You hold the card up to your chest, you feel Natalie let out a breath. Your lips quirk upward. You’re safe. And Natalie will be too.

Misty holds out the cards to her. You hold her hand. You know it won’t be the Queen. You know it won’t be. It can’t be, because you love her.

You love Natalie, so she can’t die.

She takes her time. She breathes in heavily. She’s slow to draw the card, like she’s pushing through something invisible in the air. But she’s not fighting to get it, something is pulling her back, rationality.

She draws the card close to her. She flips it. You can’t see it. She holds the card up to her chest.

You love her and it can’t be the Queen. You love her and it can’t.

Everyone gasps in horror but it takes a second for it to sink in for you. Time doesn’t work in the wilderness. Your lungs don’t work now.

The theory that oxygen is poison that takes a hundred years to kill a human? It must be true. And the origin of that poison must come from these woods, because you can’t breathe.

“No.” It’s the only word you can think to say. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” you repeat, frantic, you’re climbing up the walls, you press your hands to your face.

Natalie doesn’t look at anyone. She accepts it, she takes a step forward.

“NO!” you yell, you grab onto her, she grabs onto you. You thought it wouldn’t be her. You knew it wouldn’t be her. What is the point of this mess of the future being slowly revealed to you if you can’t save the girl you love?

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she’s shaking and crying, you’re sobbing against her warm body. “It’s not you, it’s not you.”

You dig your fingers into her shoulder’s, she has to keep you standing.

“It’s not you. It’s not you. It’s not you.”

“I won’t eat you,” you cry into her neck.

No one bothers you for this one moment. They let you have this.

“Yes, you will.”

“I won’t!” you shout, but it fades out and you’re just crying again.

Van and Mari grab your arms. Natalie let’s go of you. It’s the worst betrayal you have ever felt.

How can she do this to you? How can she do this?

“Please, please, please,” you cry, but their grip on you is too tight. You watch her walk forward.Shauna meets her in the middle. You can hear her breathing heavily, it’s silent for a moment, your mind hasn’t realized this is happening yet.

“Turn around,” Shauna says.

“I love her,” you cry. “I love her, I love her and you can’t do this, please don’t do this, please don’t-”

Nat turns around and looks at you. You can barely see her through your tears.

Shauna wrap’s Jackie’s gold necklace around her neck. She grabs the knife.

“I love her,” you say, almost resigned. “I love you.”

She looks at you. Shauna brings the knife to her throat.

“Wait. Wait,” she grabs the knife. She turns around. Her words are shaky. She’s scared. She’s scared too.“You’re gonna have to look me in the eye.”

Shauna presses the knife to her throat, they’re both crying, you really truly can’t breathe. Your mind catches up.

“Travis! Travis, Travis please, please, I love her you can’t- you can’t-” he stares at the floor and doesn’t look at you. You dissolve into sobs. That’s all you are. Sadness, grief, rage, insanity.

Misty walks over in front of you, you can’t tell what she’s feeling. You can’t decipher her face through the tears clouding your vision.

“I love her, I love her… please…”

Misty’s face hardens. “It’s not enough.”

Your heart breaks, you swear you can feel it break.

“We need food more than we need love.”

“You sick, twisted bitch! You fucking psycho! I know what you did, I know what you did!”

The sound of metal breaking. Misty’s labored breaths. The sound of a body hitting the ground. Screaming.

Who am I? You have no answer. Not anymore.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” you laugh, you cry, “You stupid, stupid girl. They’re gonna know, they’re gonna find out-”

“Shut up!” Misty yells, slapping you and you’re suddenly silent by the shock of it. “Shauna, go.”

You cry. You cry, because Natalie is not here to hold your cheek. She held you until the next tragedy happened, and you never expected this next tragedy to be her.

The knife is at her neck. You love her and the knife is at her neck.

Travis yells and barrels into Shauna. The next moment is a whirlwind, Van and Mari let go of you in favor of Travis, Misty takes their place.

Nat meets your eyes in the second of chaos.

“Run!” And she does.

“No! No, she’s getting away!” Misty screeches.

She runs right out the door, Travis fights and fights, but eventually the girls manage to pin him to the wall. Mari holds the knife to his throat. They all run out the door. Misty drops you and you fall to the ground.

There’s a sound.

You realize they’re howling. This is not a chase, it’s a hunt.

Travis is breathing heavily, you’re slumped against the ground, you look at Javi.

He survived. He survived for so long.

You stand up, you stagger towards him, you place your hands on his face.

“You know, Javi. You know, you know where she can hide, under- under the tree, you have- you have to-”

He looks into your eyes. He looks at Travis.

“Javi,” he breathes.

And Javi runs out the door. The girls don’t even recognize the danger. They don’t stop him.

There is an advantage to bring so young. You are never perceived as a threat. You are never really seen, not for what you are.

“Y/N, w-what’s under the tree?”

The girls holding him to the wall are frozen in time.

You stare at the floor.

“Sanctuary,” you whisper.

—-

You wait outside. You hear her footsteps. “Natalie, Natalie,” you day her name over and over again, running into her open arms.

“I knew it wouldn’t be you. I knew it wouldn’t be you.”

You press her so close against you it’s like you’re glued together. You breathe out and look towards the wilderness.

“Natalie!” Travis shouts, you here his footsteps behind you.

You watch as they carry his body like a dead animal, hanging by a stick.

Natalie presses her hands against the back of your head. “Travis. It… it’s happened so fast…”

“No,” he whispers. You can’t look at him but you can feel him.

“The wilderness chose,” she breathes.

“No. No! No!” he runs past you and towards where they have dumped his frozen body.

He was wearing the gloves you made for him.

You press your face against her neck. You can hear her breathe. You can feel her arms around you. For right now, that has to be enough.

Travis screams and cries as you and Natalie go inside.

—-

Natalie feels guilty. That’s the only emotion she can name. She feels more than that, of course, she feels this deep devotion to Y/N that’s more than love, she feels grateful but not quite that she’s still alive, and she feels scared but also knowing.

Y/N keeps saying that she knew. She knew it wasn’t Natalie. And Natalie doesn’t know why but she believes her. She’s starting to realize that too much has happened in the wilderness for there not to be something more. Something here.

She doesn’t tell Y/N, but she talks in her sleep. Little whispers, so only Nat can hear them. She talks about antlers. And you’re scared, you’re shaking, but you never quite wake up. And most of the time Nat just touches her face and wonders what she’s dreaming about.

She needed to be out here in the cold woods, gathering firewood. She needed to be out here, away from everyone in that cabin who tried to kill her.

When she offered to go and you grabbed her hand, looked up at her eyes, she suddenly realizes that she almost lost herself- and you almost lost her too. She would go crazy if you had been the one to draw the Queen card.

But she needs to think.

She tells you she loves you, because she heard you, while Shauna had that knife to her throat, she heard you. She wraps the blankets around you and leaves and says she’ll come back and she will.

She makes her way back to the cabin. The smell of blood is so strong, she wants to turn back but she doesn’t.

She hears him just as she sees him. His breathing is terrified. He turns around and starts hobbling as fast as he can, away from the cabin.

“Coach,” she breathes. “Where have you been?”

His eyes soften. “Natalie. W-what happened?”

She stares at him. She knows he sees the horror in her eyes. The memories in her eyes. She can’t say it.

“O-Okay, okay, okay, listen. I figured out where Javi was hiding, all right? I-I think that you, me and Y/N together could probably survive the winter.”

She looks him up and down.

“Hey, do you hear me?”

Her face hardens.

“You don’t have to stay here. You’re not one of them. Both of you aren’t like the rest of these girls.”

“Actually, I’m worse.”

It feels good to say it.

“How can you say that?” he says, genuinely confused, almost betrayed.

“I let him die in my place.”

There are tears in his eyes.

“It was supposed to be me.” He stares at her. She feels guilty, guilty for shattering her perfect vision of him.

“F-fine. Fine, fine. You don’t- you don’t have to go. Y/N and I-”

“She knows things, Coach. She knows things. Doomcoming, Lottie told me that soon, we’ll all see if the way she sees it. She whispers in her sleep about antlers, she gets scared when nothings there, and she… today, she told Misty that she knew what she did. And Misty was scared.”

She can see everything crash around him.

“You’re a good person, Coach. You really don’t belong in this place.”

She stares at him and he stares right back. Something breaks, the friendship they had.

Something breaks.

—-

1997-

Your hair is knotted, matted in places. You cannot remember the last time you touched a hairbrush. They made you shower but there’s still dirt under your fingernails and in between your toes.

You keep your head towards the ground, the flashing lights of cameras ringing in your eyes and ears, feeling her hand in yours and someone’s hand on your shoulder, guiding you forward, shouting for everyone to step back.

But they don’t listen. The are journalists. Paparazzi. They want this new story like you wanted meat. They are hungry, just like you.

You don’t even realize you’re climbing the steps of a plane, just like you did that day in 1996. The worst has already happened to you.

Lottie screams and you do not even flinch. Even while the cameras stop flashing, everyone falls silent. It doesn’t scare you, not anymore.

You have heard this scream a thousand times before. From a thousand different mouths.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff @onlyangel-444 @subastronaut @iheartnatscatorccio @yourlocalloser-core

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

#natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

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