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inafieldofdaisies · 8 months

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Ship Art | John Seed x Sabrina Donovan | sketch by @felrija ❤️ || a scene from my WIP In Hope Of Tomorrow, snippet below the cut

"I won't lie, I was planning on killing you." "And yet you didn't. Why?" "A change of circumstances."

It felt like at least 2 hours had passed before the door opened again. Sabrina kept her eyes casted downward as a pair of boots came into view, crossing over the threshold, their owner humming a familiar tune. I know this melody. It was the song she sang in the cell. He was there, listening. The realization made her look up, her hazel eyes met John's as he neared, stepping into the light that spilled from the chandelier above. He was wearing jeans, a blue dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up and way too many buttons undone, on top of it was a vest that belonged more in a courtroom than in a bunker in the Middle of nowhere, Montana. "Kept you waiting, didn't I, Deputy?" A dark smirk marred his handsome face, his posture exuding confidence, like he was about to slip into an opening statement any moment. Only in this room he had full reign, assuming the role of judge, jury and executioner. "Probably should consider serving some tea, maybe redecorating your dungeon. Red's a bit on the nose, don't you think? And I wouldn't rate your goon very highly on any scale either." The comment made him chuckle, and she tried to ignore how familiar it sounded, how it pulled on her soul. "Now, I'm not usually late, but someone decided to attempt to derail my Cleansing.", at that he unconsciously went to smooth out his dark hair, making Sabrina realize it's damp. Sabrina narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching, "Did someone try to drown you, Seed?" Don't laugh again. And he didn't, sending a smirk her way instead. "Now, Deputy, enough jokes, there are more pressing matters.", his head tilted slightly, his expression almost... giddy. "What's a joke is you thinking holding a Deputy hostage is a good idea, you of all people should know it's far from it. Aren't you supposed to be a hotshot lawyer?", she couldn't stop her sneer. "Deputy-" Sabrina cut him off, "I have a name." "Yes. Sabrina Blythe Donovan.", he said it matter-of-factly, but Sabrina could tell he took pride in that knowledge. It didn't shock her he knew her full name, with Nancy being on Eden's Gate side no doubt information about the whole Sheriff's Department was leaking like a sieve. A dry laugh escaped her, "Next you're going to tell me the name of my first boyfriend." John crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, "Knowledge is power after all. And, Sabrina, you wouldn't be here if you didn't try to arrest my brother. You all had choice and it led to this." She pushed down the feeling at how familiar her name sounded on his lips, the twinge of longing it caused in her was nothing. It had to be.

"There was an arrest warrant. I was just doing my job. Your brother is a criminal, and now so are you and all of your people." "I'm doing MY job, Deputy. You're a sinner and so are your friends.", he retorted, his words full of conviction as he headed for his torture table. Sabrina froze, expecting him to notice a knife was missing, when he said nothing, she continued, "Why am I here?" The words came out sharper than intended, carrying the tone she used when interrogating suspects back in Portland, the one that got her straight answers and stripped away all the nonsense. John turned, a look of amusement flashing across his face as he leaned against the table, legs crossed at the ankles. "I should be the one asking questions here, Deputy." "Old habits die hard, I was a-" "A detective back in", a dramatic pause, he raised a finger, "Portland. And you left it all behind to work for Whitehorse. Can't wait for you to tell me why." "I'm not telling you shit. I don't know what you think you're doing-" John stalked towards her with swiftness that took her aback as he grabbed the armrests of her chair, the force behind his movement making the wheels skid across the floor. His face had grown serious, piercing blue eyes boring into hers as he loomed over her. "You will talk, confess every sin, no matter how small. I know exactly what I’m doing here."

Their proximity sent a shiver up her spine and she tried to tell herself it was the bad kind. He was so close to a point Sabrina could smell the musky scent of river that clung to his skin. He had indeed taken a dive, her amusement at the confirmation died down quickly. His nearness, the position of his hands as he held onto the chair allowed her to see his tattoos in detail for the first time. In seconds her whole world came crashing down, her blood froze. No. She knew these tattoos, had seen them countless times in her visions, had drawn them over and over to the point they were embedded in her memory. NO. The hand holding hers as the world ended. The man that called her "Butterfly". It was John. John fucking Seed. His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, "Hm. A butterfly." He was looking at her tattoo, at one of the butterflies that wasn't hidden by the strap of her top. As if she needed any more reminders of the tragic realization she had just came to, John said the damned word again as he backed away, "Why a butterfly, Deputy?" He was back to being nonchalant, like the outburst hadn't even happened. All she could do was blink, wishing her eyes were lying to her.

"You still with me, Sabrina?", it had finally hit him she wasn't replying, that she wasn't talking back. Breathe. Focus. Snap out of it. "Wish I wasn't, won't lie.", she tried to hold onto her composure. Silence took over as John went back to his table, picking up a tool, looking it over then placing it down with care and grabbing another one, repeating the process. It felt mechanical, like a show. Her own knife felt heavy in her hands, the tip prickling her skin, a wake-up call. She knew what she had to do in order to get back to Savannah, imagined it in the hours he made her wait on him. Plunging the blade deep, ending a life. But doubt was creeping in... Her plan, the dark path she planned to take, there was a chance she would fail, she had seen him alive too many times. And her most recent vision... from the sounds of that one he was breathing and pissed off. John spoke up again, his attention still on the table in front of him, "My brother's church. Let's start there. You saw something." It wasn't a question, he sounded sure of it. She hadn't been able to hide her distress, even tried to stop the arrest. A new path became visible. A plan with a giant leap of faith. Probably the most dumb and risky decision she has ever made in her life. He wanted answers, and she was going to play along. For now. "I will tell you what I saw, but I doubt you'd believe it, they never do." Another smirk, making her feel nauseous. "Try me, Deputy." "I saw the crash. Before it happened, I mean." "A vision.", he nodded mostly to himself, "Joseph has them." "You believe then?" "They're from God. Of course I believe him." John believed Joseph, not her. She was used to people's scepticism, but she had a way to prove it this time. "There's more, John." Something flashed across his face at her saying his name outloud for the very first time, but the mask was back in place too quickly for her to figure out what. Focus. Her mother was good at selling any con, always knew how to approach a person, what they'd want to hear, which buttons to push.

"Say his name. Look him in the eyes and sell the idea, make him think it's his own, darling. There's always an offer a man won't be able to refuse, one he'd throw himself in the deep end for, willingly. And when he's about to sink, you offer a hand, pledge your loyalty. He'd be a goner before you know it."

A part of Candice lived in Sabrina, and for once she let it take over.

"I will tell you what's coming, but I will need something in return.", her voice sounded unshakeable, certain, the exact opposite of how she felt inside. John didn't break her eye contact, nor interrupted her. Sabrina got up from the chair, discarding the ropes as her hands dropped to her sides. "You've been untied this whole time, Deputy?", his eyes shone with amusement again. She took a few steps until she stood almost in front of him, her hand holding out her knife. Surrendering her weapon. "And you had a knife?" When he made no move to take it, Sabrina placed the blade on his "work" bench and walked back, sitting down in the chair and rubbing her wrists. "I won't lie, I was planning on killing you." "And yet you didn't. Why?" "A change of circumstances."

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 10 months

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15 Questions Tag

I was tagged by @sergeantnarwhalwrites and I'm gonna let it rot in drafts for a while, because I have no idea who to do this for.

Almost three months later, I decided to do this for my new sad boi! :D

Are you named after anyone? "When I chose my new name, I thought of a children's story my mother told us when we were little, of the rats Finnian and Winifred. My sister's name is Winifred, and I thought that would be nice. Haven't regretted it, so it was probably one of the better decisions of my life."

When was the last time you cried? He shrugs. "None of your buisness." By the looks of it, it can't have been too long ago.

Do you have kids? "No. I don't… No."

Do you use sarcasm a lot? "Too much, probably. It has gotten me into trouble before."

What’s the first thing you notice about people? "Whether they look like the kind that's looking for trouble. The kind that looks for an excuse to beat someone up." He sighs. "I also can't stop myself from noticing if someone looks ill, or injured. Some people don't even realize, or they try to ignore it."

What’s your eye color? "Dark brown."

Scary movies or happy endings? "How about a scary story with a happy ending? Don't they exist?" He looks away, muttering, "Probably not. I don't have time for stories. I can barely make ends meet as it is." He does indeed look thinner than might be healthy, bundled into layers of clothes despite the late summer warmth.

Any special talents? He laughs, but not happily. "Fuck off. Wait, you're serious? I'm a healer who can't heal. Don't… Just. Get to the next question already."

Where were you born? "Little farming village a few days north from here."

What are your hobbies? "Trying not to starve. Getting beaten up. Did you listen to anything I said so far?" He's clearly annoyed.

Have you any pets? "Do the ants I shake out of my boots in the morning count?"

What sports do you play/have played? "Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean." His will to cooperate is clearly running thin, and he has no patience to figure out questions he doesn't understand.

How tall are you? "Just short of 1,70." He doesn't look too happy about that.

Favorite subject in school? "I don't... we didn't really have school. Our village was too small for that. Our parents taught us most things, and some summer days, we spent listening to our elders, telling us about our country's history and about far away lands." There is almost a smile on his face. "When I was accepted into the temple as a healer, I was taught more specific things. Most of it, I didn't care about, but I always liked learning which plants can be used as a cure."

Dream job "Isn't it funny?" He doesn't look like it's funny at all. "When I was a child, everyone dreamed of getting out of our small village, of being more than a farmer. I got lucky, didn't I?" He stares at his hands, rubbing a stiff thumb over the scar on his palm. "I'd give a lot to be a farmer now."

Tagging @whumpinthepot @whumpflash @winterandwords if you wanna do it :) Been a while since the last time it came around.

Template beneath the cut.

Are you named after anyone?

When was the last time you cried?

Do you have kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

What’s your eye color?

Scary movies or happy endings?

Any special talents?

Where were you born?

What are your hobbies?

Have you any pets?

What sports do you play/have played?

How tall are you?

Favorite subject in school?

Dream job

#salad-tag #wip: till death

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.

622 notes · View notes

raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

Sauna

Summary: Taehyung always makes you wait on him, but he is going to make sure you learn that he should never have to wait on you.

Trigger Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, abuse, Dom/sub-themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic, ambiguous torture.

Taehyung

Yandere!Taehyung

Dom!Taehyung

You've been waiting for Taehyung for hours now. Once again work claims his time and focus. Luckily his luxurious house has plenty to keep you entertained. Knowing Tae, it could be anywhere from 30 minutes to 8 hours that he's locked away. So while you patiently wait for him to be available you decide to make use of the sauna. You know you'll be able to quickly shower and be ready for him within a few minutes when he calls. And he won't mind wet hair or a lack of makeup. He isn't interested in anything like that. He just wants you in position ready for him.

Spending lots of 20 minutes, you cycle through small sessions in the heat and steam with rests in between. It gets to near 90 minutes and on your fourth time heading into the sauna you can feel you are just about at your limit, your head starting to become a bit light.

After only 5 minutes more you decide to cut it short. You remember you haven't really drunk enough water throughout the day and you don't want to risk overdoing it and becoming dazed with Taehyung.

Standing up, you bundle your towel wiping at the sweat dripping from your forehead. You jump as you bring it down, startled by Taehyung standing in the doorway suddenly, looking displeased.

"Ignoring my calls are you?" He opens the sauna door questioning sternly. Your smile changes into a frown of confusion. He called? He never called. Or at least your phone never rang.

"No," you shake your head feeling flustered at suddenly being put on the spot. Passing him diffidently he backs out of the doorway and allows you to exit into the cooldown room.

"Then why did I have to come searching for you?" he berates.

You know you checked the volume. You purposefully made it as loud as you could because you wanted to make sure you would hear it over the music in the sauna. You pick up your phone only to find it dead. You checked the volume but not the battery, and you didn't think to look at it in the past hour, not wanting to touch it while you were sweaty.

Putting the phone face down, sheepishly you turn around. Taehyung hates to be kept waiting. It's something he never tolerates. And you know what he'll say. That being careless is not a sufficient excuse.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again." You apologize contritely, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"That's not what I asked girl." He demands an answer to his question. The laid back manner with which he stands does not match the harshness of his tone or wording. Usually, he calls you with some variation of little girl or baby girl or good girl. But when it's just girl, you know you've upset him.

"I- my phone died." You pick it up to prove it to him. "I'm sorry" you mumble.

“So what your saying is your lack of attention has caused me to wait on you.” He scolds, his stare hardening.

While you feel bad, you’re starting to get frustrated. He's being hypocritical. It’s not like you did it on purpose. It was an accident and he’s being too harsh. “Well, I had to wait for you too. Like, nearly 3 hours.” You argue back, instantly regretting your stupid lack of impulse control.

"Excuse me," He challenges with a tight jaw. You know it's rhetorical and not meant to be answered. The best thing is to stay silent and continue to look down at your fingers.

For a moment too long he is quiet and motionless. Your eyes flick up to see what kind of response he is having, only to see him standing stiffly, his features tight as he assesses you unblinkingly. You're feeling dumb, knowing you've just put yourself in a bad position at the start of your weekend session with Tae.

You audibly whimper from nerves, wanting to undo some of the damage. "I'm sor-"

“Come here Y/n”. He interrupts, holding his hand out for you. From his demeanour, you know you're in trouble, but your not sure how yet. However, slightly apprehensively, you accept his outreached hand.

He opens the sauna door, holding it wide and gesturing for you to enter. You pause hesitantly unsure of where he is going with this.

"After making you wait so long for me, I would hate to interrupt you. Go back in. I'll even join you." Now it's his eerily pleasant tone that doesn't match his observable frustration and the slowly tightening grip on your wrist.

Lightly you shake your head, not wanting to say any variation of the word no. "I-it's okay, Sir. I was done."

"Go in." And now to your dismay, the chill of his voice and his body language match. He orders you into the sauna pointedly, his expression daring you to debate it further.

Swallowing heavily, you can't help the way his domineering tone is filling your stomach with butterflies. Even when he gets scary- especially when he gets scary- you find him so attractive. But you know you need to take this moment seriously, or risk getting yourself further into strife.

You nod, going back into the sauna, the warm wet heat swarming around you again quickly making your breath feel smothered. Sitting on one of the wooden benches, you get lower trying to get out of the rising heat. Sweat right away returning to your brow and neck.

After a few minutes, Taehyung comes in, having removed his clothes. He puts down a towel and sits alongside you, resting back with his arms up on either side, his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth. You try to do the same. But even after a little while more, you're becoming more and more uncomfortable. You try to bear it as long as you can, but as another 10 minutes pass your head begins to thump, your eyes becoming unfocused.

"Okay." You say standing up with a wobble. "This was really nice. But I'm getting a little dizzy. I think I should go out."

"Sit down." He says without opening his eyes. You're looking through the glass door to the cool of the outside longingly. It's starting to hurt being in here, but you're sure Tae knows that.

"Please, Sir. I don't feel well." You try again to plead your point. Despite your discomfort, you still don't want to act on your own. Outrightly disobeying him would disregard everything that your relationship is built on.

"Do you really want to test me right now, little girl?" He says, his head rested back with a smirk.

"You're being unfair." You pout, lightly stomping your foot.

He chuckles, rolling his head forward. "The answer's yes apparently." He stands and your gaze drops to eye height looking at his collar bone. He steps towards you and you step back. And again. Pushing you to the other side of the room. Your legs come into contact with the bench and as he steps at you again, with nowhere left to go, you fall down onto the seat, coming face height with his lower stomach and crotch.

An embarrassed glow fans over your cheeks as you realize what your first impulse is. You stifle a giggle, biting your lip.

"Little Y/n, who's in charge here?"

Those words said in that deep tone have you momentarily forgetting how dehydrated and sick you feel. His voice sending a wave of shivers down your spine and up your neck.

"You are." You purr back, having to push your thighs together with a new kind of heat rushing through your stomach.

"And when I tell you to do something, you do it. Isn't that right?" His salacious words are accompanied by his hand curling around your jaw, his thumb resting on your lips pressing for entrance into your mouth. Instinctually, you open for him and suck his thumb, looking up at him with wide eyes. There's a small lustful smile on his face and in his eyes. But it's the way he licks and bites his lip that has another bolt of heat shooting through your core.

You nod to his question, sucking firmer, taking it deeper and rubbing your tongue along it. Emboldened by the ravenous look in his eye.

Taehyung removes his hand, it shoving your shoulder, making you crash back into the wall. He grabs your legs and roughly throws them onto the double-tiered bench, having you lay along it. Climbing on top of it, he pushes himself between your legs making you spread them wider to accommodate him. Right away you nearly melt feeling his hardening member.

"When I tell you to sit, you don't argue. Do you?" He leans over the top of you, his hand rested next to your head.

"No, Sir." You whisper back breathlessly, shaking your head.

He presses his hips down, rubbing himself between your legs, slipping effortlessly with how wet you already are. You buck upwards trying to encourage him to go further, trying to meet him that last little bit to get what your craving.

"And when I tell you to wait for my call, you make sure to wait patiently and be a good girl for me, don't you?"

"Yes," you pant.

He smirks, approving of your answers. His lips come to yours, licking over your bottom lip before his tongue enters your mouth. Slowly he sinks deep inside you, making you moan and whine.

"You don't need to ask Y/n. Cum as much as you want. But you don't move till I'm done."

A small excited smile fills your face, and you nod back. As far as punishments go, this one seems great. He's not denying you, and he said you can cum as much as you want, so he's not going to overstimulate you. At the moment, you can't see the downside.

Gradually he starts to move, and you bring your hips up to his to match his rhythm, groaning and moaning the whole time. It isn't long until Taehyungs skilled strokes have you exploding around him, giving you the ecstasy you sought after.

But as your high starts to fade, you again gain clarity and realization of your surroundings. You're no longer desperately working towards release and you can again feel the hot air going down your throat. The excess heat of Taehyungs skin on yours. The way your bodies slip along one another due to sweat, or the sweat dripping from Tae's body all over you. You're wet and sore and the longer he continues, even as he brings you to another orgasm, it feels tainted with the suffocation of the sweltering heat.

Taehyung can see it. The look of excitement you had, turning swiftly into one of worry and distress as your distraction faded. And he is revelling once again in how transparent your emotions are to him. Enjoying being able to see how you're suffering but still obeying him.

As he makes you cum for a third time, your body throbs in pleasure but your head thumps in pain. Your chest hurting and your breath short. Your eyes getting glassy. A sick feeling nudging at the back of your throat.

He keeps going, unrelenting for far too long. Keeping himself slow and steady, breaking to kiss and paw at you every now and then to draw it out even longer.

With a stolen glance at the clock on the wall, you can only estimate that he has been fucking you for at least 30 minutes. It's too much. You're so past your limit you can barely keep your eyes open or move. You want to ask him to stop, but you know his order not to move including asking if you could. And you are aware it wasn't a suggestion.

By the time Taehyung finally cums, you're completely spent, nearly unconscious. So much so that after taking a second to catch his own breath, he has to carry you out of the sauna.

As he lays you on the bench in the cool-down room, your body is shivering with dehydration. Any second now, you fear you're going to throw up. Or completely pass out.

But Taehyung doesn't care. He hates to wait on you and he knows he certainly made his point. His only care is that he makes sure you're not confused as to why your suffering right now. "The next time I tell you to wait for me, Y/n," He clarifies with a stern tone, tapping your face lightly to make sure your eyes are open, "I expect you to be actively waiting, and to come running the second I call. Am I understood?"

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #yandere bangtan #bts smut #yandere taehyung #dom!taehyung #bangtan smut #bangtan smut reactions #bts smut reactions #bts taehyung #taehyung #taehyung smut

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inuma-kiss · 3 years

Text

EXCEPTION.

summary gojo reminisces the three times leading up to when he fell in love with you.

characters gojo satoru, gn reader.

format drabble / fic.

word count unknown (will add later, im super lazy rn)

contains fluff, highschool au flashbacks, mutual pining (but like,,,,, theyre in the flashbakcs?????), basically 3/4 of the story is flashbacks, little angst.

i figured i wanted to get more written stuff out before preparing for my bnha smau that i still have to plan and outline buuuttttt here ya go :D

It’s like it was yesterday, when the Gojo Satoru fell in love with you. Despite the fact that time seemed to pass that quickly, his feelings towards you only changed drastically like that in high school, way before his time as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

The first time Gojo had an idea of his feelings towards you was during the week of his school’s sports festival in his first year of highschool when he had gotten into a fight. You nor Gojo don’t recall him ever telling you what the fight was about, but you never pushed on the topic, and Gojo never made an effort to remember. The man — who was just a boy back then — was ever so careless, but who was he to think about his actions? You were always there to keep him in check, and that time wasn’t an exception.

“How can you be so stupid sometimes, Toru?” You scold lightly, hand gripping tightly around his wrist as you drag him to the nurse’s office. Gojo’s face is plastered with a shit eating smirk, one you wish you could slap right off his chiseled yet developing features.

“And how can you be such a mom at such a young age, hm?” He teases, and you roll your eyes, pushing him into the nurse’s office, conveniently pushing him hard enough to get him to sit on one of the beds. His mouth is agape just a tiny bit from the shock of the force coming from your push, but he pushes that said shock to the back of his head as he watches you prance around the nurse’s office, trying to look for the first aid kit.

“Where is that stupid thing?” You speak to yourself, digging frustratingly through the cabinets. You sigh in relief once you find the kit, walking towards Gojo and pulling out a chair from the side. “Let me.” You say simply, eyes boring into his own bright blues. He nods, leaning forward and a little bit down to get his bruised forehead to your eye level.

You open the first aid kit and place it on a little tray table right beside you, taking out cotton, alcohol, some ointment, and bandages. You tend to his wounds, and as much as Gojo is thankful for the gesture, he can’t help but hiss every time the cotton meets with his fresh wounds, the alcohol reaching the depths of his wounds and creating a burn that even he couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry,” you pull back once you’ve finished cleaning out his wound, this time returning to his cuts with a prepared bandage. You place it gently on top of his cut, patting down lightly once you’ve placed it to secure it’s position, allowing his own body to do the rest of the healing. “At least we’re done though.” You smile, putting away the first aid kit but leaving it on the table, choosing to spend the rest of your free time staring at him instead of wasting time with putting away a stupid first aid kit.

“Thanks,” he comments, but you know better. You raise an eyebrow at him, voicing your suspicions, and Gojo just smiles, letting you know that he has no annoying intentions behind his rare voice of gratitude. You mentally shrug, relaxing your features, however instantly regretting it as a smirk pops up on your best friend’s features. “Mom.” He says, laughing out loud like a maniac at your reaction before questioning his own life as you chase him around the school in a fit of anger.

Gojo smiles at the memory. You and him were just kids, fresh highschoolers who had just left the obstacle of middle school. Although he never felt anything significant during that specific memory of his, he knew that his feelings started to bloom that day because when he got home, his heart started beating fast as his fingers grazed against his bandaged wound. A wound that you took care of and took the time to care for. And after that, Gojo was determined to make you tend to his wounds from that day on.

The second time Gojo had an idea of his feelings towards you was during the summer trip before the third year of highschool. Your friendship with him is still strong, in fact, stronger than ever, but all friendships come into conflicts at some points, and for you and Gojo, this time was one of them.

Gojo has always been popular among the student body. Males love hanging out with him while females love his personality and his looks. So, in other words, you can say that he has quite the reputation amongst the ladies, and as much as you want to say it doesn’t upset or bother you, it does.

I mean, how could you not? No female paid attention to your best friend for the entirety of both your lives, but once second year of high school had hit, all of a sudden it’s like the females knew of Gojo’s existence since forever.

“What?” You’re taken back, shock evident on your face as Gojo sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, making eye contact anywhere that isn’t your own.

“I’m sorry.” He says, still choosing to ignore your stare in effort of quieting the growing guilt inside of him. “I really wanted to walk around with you, but Nara said she—”

“—It’s fine.” You quickly shut him down, not wanting to hear anything else leave his mouth. He shuts up immediately, arms going down to rest on his sides before finally making eye contact with you. It’s obvious that he’s guilty, his eyes say it all. Those bright blue eyes you’ve always loved held some sort of darkness inside them as they start to gloss.

“A-Are you sure?” Gojo is hesitant. He knows you better than anyone, yet at this moment, why is he having so much trouble trying to figure you out?

“Yeah,” you shrug your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing lightly at the pang in your chest, targetting your heart as it started to beat heavily. It hurts. “You chose her, what right do I have to argue with that?” You ask before turning away, walking into the bus where students were chattering, expressing their excitement for the trip. Gojo stares at your back, watching as you sit far away from the seats that you and him had originally picked out. It hurts.

The trip lasted for a whole week, if Gojo remembers correctly. The only thing he actually remembered correctly was the fact that he barely spent time with you that week. He’s used to having you by his side most of the time, and the fact that he was in the same vicinity as you yet you were absent from his side, he didn’t like it. Foreign feelings are always a good thing, it helps you get accustomed to new things and set out for new adventures. However, this particular foreign feeling was one he never wished to feel ever again.

Oh, yeah. Nara. She’s this girl Gojo had met at the beginning of his second year of highschool. The two became close and eventually he asked her out midway into the school year. Now that Gojo thinks about it, his time with you was starting to fade away little by little once Nara came into the picture.

Obviously, you said nothing. You saw how happy he was with her, who are you to ruin that? It’s not like you were anything more than a bestfriend, but that’s what you think. Gojo sees you as something a lot more than a bestfriend, he just hasn’t come to terms with it yet.

On the last day of the trip, Gojo finds you stargazing on the beach. He was hanging out with Nara, but he needed fresh air after being inside all day, so he excused himself for a bit to walk to the beach. Thank god he did.

“Toru?” You acknowledge him after feeling his stare on your back lingering too long for comfort, chuckling to yourself when he responded with a blush adorning on his face, eyes widening and shoulders jumping in shock. “Idiot. Come sit with me.” You tease, patting the space besides you, and with hesitation, Gojo follows.

He doesn’t know what to say. During this whole week, Gojo swore he had a million things to say to you, but now that you’re here, sitting besides him under the pale moonlight as the waves crashed against both your feet, he feels as if all the vocabulary he knew in his life...disappeared.

Maybe that’s just your effect on him. Gojo is not too sure, but with the way you’re eyes are boring into his, he can’t help but let his heart speed up a bit.

“How are you and Nara?” You initiate the conversation, knowing that Gojo is overthinking himself. It’s a bad habit of his, and no matter how many times you tell him to calm down, his mind just runs amock, leaving you no choice but to watch out for him. But, it’s not like you hate watching out for him. It’s quite the opposite.

“We’re...” Gojo tears his head away from you, instead looking at the vast horizon of the dark sky, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re okay.”

You smile despite the pain that grows inside you at his words, observing how his bright eyes soften at the thought of his girlfriend. You look away, hoping to qualm your overwhelming feelings for him, knowing it won’t do you any good.

You, however, miss the way Gojo turns back at you, eyes softening even more as he watches your silky skin glisten under the rays of the moon.

After that trip, Gojo remembers your relationship with him somehow changed. Back then, he can’t tell what the change was, but now that he’s an adult who’s had experiences, he’s very much aware what changed.

The third and final time Gojo had an idea of his feelings towards you was near the end of his third year of highschool. He was then a senior, still ever so popular. He was still with Nara, their relationship going on to one year, but he felt something off.

With his chest that used to tighten and warm up at the sound of her laugh, by the time the end of their third year comes around, he doesn’t get those same feelings anymore. Whenever Nara laughs, Gojo stays neutral, and that alarms him.

“Let’s go on a date tomorrow,” Nara approaches you and Gojo with a skeptical smile on her face. She ignores you completely, but you don’t react to it. After all, that’s how she always reacts whenever you came into the picture. It isn’t anything new.

“Okay.” Gojo smiles at her, but you can tell that his smile lacked the usual softness. “I’ll pick you up at 2?” He asks, and Nara nods, pulling him down for a quick kiss on the lips before skipping away happily as if she won a prize.

“She seems giddy.” You point out, and Gojo nods, his whole aura seeming to gloom as he stares at Nara laughing along with her friends. You furrow an eyebrow, hand touching the side of his arm to get his attention. “Hey, you okay?” You ask, and Gojo turns to you, mood lightening up as he nods. Sadly, you don’t notice the change in his attitude.

“Wanna go somewhere tomorrow?” Gojo asks, and you’re taken back, confusion lacing your features as you pull your hand away from his arm.

“Tomorrow? You literally just agreed to go on a date with Nara tomorrow.” You stare at him as his eyes widen in realization, and hope starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. Sadly, that said hope disappears once he laughs, waving his hand as if to dismiss you.

“Ah, my bad.” He shakes his head at himself. “I’m just tired.” He tries to play it off, and unfortunately, you take the bait and believe his lies. Adult Gojo wants nothing more than to slap the shit out of his and your highschool self, wishing that the both of you weren’t so blinded to your own stupidity.

Skipping to the next day, Gojo is tired. He’s mentally exhausted, and he wants nothing more than to go to your house and rant about everything. He doesn’t want to go on this date with Nara. In fact, he doesn’t wanna be with Nara at all. Gojo isn’t an asshole though, he would never leave Nara hanging like that.

So he gets up either way, walking to Nara’s house. The guilt in him starts to settle once he’s met with Nara’s cheerful face.

“Hey baby!” Nara giggles, instantly wrapping her arms around Gojo’s neck. “I feel like we haven’t gotten on a date in forever.” Nara says, gesturing for Gojo to come in her home as she lets go of his neck. Gojo doesn’t move an inch, however, and Nara stares at him in confusion, heart beating faster by the minute as realization starts to settle in the pit of her stomach.

“Nara, I...” Gojo clears his throat. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. Something changed, I don’t know what, but I do know that I can’t keep you going like this. You deserve better, and I can’t provide that for you.” Gojo is quick to speak his feelings, knowing that one more second here means one less second with you.

Nara smiles, shocking Gojo. He didn’t expect such a reaction from her. He’s not sure what exactly was he expecting, but this definitely wasn’t it.

“I know.” Nara reassures him, a tear trickling down her face. “That’s why I’ve been pestering you about going on a date. I know something changed, you love [Name]. You always have, but I thought I could change something there. I should have known that I hold no place in your heart when they’re around.” Nara sighs as more tears fall down her face. Gojo stands there, taking it all in as he’s swallowing in guilt. Guilt and relief. “Just go. I’ll be fine.” Nara says, pushing Gojo out of her house and closing the door on him.

Gojo runs to your house, not caring that he’s getting tired. Nara keeps her back on her front door, sobbing into her hands, her heart empty knowing she just let go the man of her dreams for the sake of his happiness.

He’s getting close. You’re all Gojo is thinking about right now as he burns his energy, legs moving quick and fast. All those times that he was so miserable during PE was worth it, because now that it counts, it helps him get to you faster.

“Toru?” You open the door, face pulled into an expression of shock when you’re met with an exhausted Gojo, hands on his knees and back hunched over ass he tries to catch his breath. “Did you run here?” You chuckle, shaking your head at him. You pull him into your house, sitting him onto your couch while you grab a cold glass of water for him.

“Thanks,” Gojo smiles at you, taking the glass from you and swigs the water down his throat in one go. “Yeah, I, uh, ran here; have some things to say.” Gojo puts down the glass on the coaster before leaning back against the couch, eyes landing on yours.

You’re taken back by his statement. Recently, your conversations with Gojo have been cut short. They’re usually compiled with small hi’s and how are you’s. Type of conversations that people as close as you and Gojo wouldn’t have. Unless, you know, something happens between them.

“Okay, um...” You gulp nervously, eyes moving away from contact with his, shifting towards the glass that he settled on the coaster instead.

Gojo smiles, noticing the nerves that were starting to settle in your body. “I’m sorry.” He says, and your eyes widen, eyes shifting back to make eye contact with him. Yet, you don’t say anything, allowing Gojo to continue. “I’m sorry for treating you like you weren’t important to me. For, you know, leaving you to yourself when I’m your bestfriend and I’m supposed to be there for you.” Gojo fiddles with his fingers, stopping when you place your hand on top of his.

“Toru, it’s okay.” You say, wrapping your hand in his. “I understand, I do. I’m just your bestfriend, and Nara, she...she’s your girlfriend. I know where your priorities land and—”

“—That’s the thing.” He interrupts you. “You’re my priority, [Name]. Not Nara. I broke up with her.” You let go of his hand, putting them on your lap instead as you try to take in his words.

“What...what are you trying to say, Toru?” You ask, unaware of how your body is leaning closer to his in wishful hope. In your mind, you’re hoping that his words mean exactly what you think they do, and fortunate for you, they do.

“I’m in love with you.” Gojo says as simple as that before sitting up properly to pull you close to him, hands caging your face in between his palms while his lips crash against yours.

The two of you stay there, lips dancing with each other as you both savor the taste of each other’s lips, the sweet taste of love filling the air causing your heart to swell up in happiness.

Before you could control it, tears start spilling from the corner of your eyes, the feeling of happiness becoming too over whelming. Gojo pulls away after a good minute or two, staring at your face lovingly while he uses his thumbs to wipe away your salty tears.

“You’ve always been sensitive, dummy.” Gojo teases, pulling you into his chest and letting you hide your head into his warmth, nose inhaling his strong yet comforting cologne.

“Shut up.” You smack the side of his shoulder, attempting to pull away from his hold, only to be pulled back in by his strong arms. “I hate you.” You sniffle, earning a heartfelt laugh from Gojo.

Back to the present, Gojo is chuckling to himself while you give him a confused look, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers expertly work their way to bandage his face.

“What the hell are you laughing about?” You ask with suspicion, but Gojo waves you off. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to make you take care of his wounds, and even after ten years since that first time he realized the change of his feelings towards you, you’re here, taking care of his wounds. Only this time, not as a friend, but as his lover.

“Nothing. Just reminiscing.” Gojo smiles, feeling as if he was rewinding time with the way he’s remembering things. You give him one more look of your suspicions before rolling your eyes, slapping his bandaged wounds lightly to signal that you were done. He hisses a little, sending you a feign glare, and you respond with sticking out your tongue, pulling back when he tries to bite your tongue.

You turn your back against him to put away the first aid kit, the smile on Gojo’s face getting larger. Now that he thinks about it, that one time in his first year if highschool, Gojo is pretty sure that he got into that fight because some boys were talking bad about you.

It’s not like him to involve himself in situations like that, but you? You’re an exception.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagines #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #fics #f.soft

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selfindulgentfanfiction · 3 years

Text

What Can I Do? (William One Shot)

WARNING: CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS OF LOVE UNHOLYC. Please be advised reading if you have not completed at least one route past day 7. I based this off of one of William’s side stories called “A Smiling Master and a Heartbroken Butler”. It isn’t relevant enough to the side story to be a spoiler for it.

Fandom: Love Unholyc Character(s): William and MC (unnamed and gender neutral) NSFW: No Description: Slight AU where even after spending 7 days with Sol, Leo, and Hi, MC still chooses William to be their partner for their Coming of Age ceremony. However, due to William losing his adult body during the day, he distances himself from MC and refuses the second time to be their partner.

“Master?” William knocked on MC’s door 3 times before opening the door. They always scolded him for not knocking, so William was doing as he was ordered; knocking. However, he never nailed the timing on when he should enter. MC was lucky he knocked in the first place, he humored.

William wasn’t expected for the sight in front of him.

The room was empty. No master in sight. Not only were they no where to be found, but the room was mysteriously picked up. All of MC’s dirty clothes were in the hamper and their gaming desk was free of any and all debris or food.

It wasn’t clean by any means, but it was suspiciously clean for his master.

William knew that MC was in their home 360 out of 365 days a year, but he felt panic swell in his chest. He was concerned for his master’s safety, but the thought of her with those humans made him feel even more insecure.

William’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out swiftly and almost dropped it. He cursed to himself before reading a message from his master.

MC: LIAM! MC: I’ll be home later. I have some things to do. MC: I know you haven’t been speaking to me much since you had to reverse time, but I understand.

William felt a tightness in his stomach at that. He didn’t know that MC noticed his distance, but even more so, he didn’t expect them to understand.

MC: Anyway, I picked everything up in my room. I ate before I left as well and I’ll eat before I get home, so don’t worry about making me anything. MC: I even braided my own hair today! You should be proud! (^-^) MC: Anyway, there’s no need to do anything today. Just take it easy, okay?~ MC: Oh, that’s an order from your master, by the way.

William stiffened. What was this? Why has his master done this? They’ve never done this before. William had so many questions that his head began to spin.

Then, he caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror. William clenched his fist at the sight in front of him.

The young boy in the mirror glowered back at William. He didn’t regret turning back time to save his master from Eater. He would do it a thousand more times. There was no price he wouldn’t pay for his master. He can’t help but wish that he paid any other price other than this one.

He was hundreds of years old, but during the day, he’s stuck in the body of his younger self. He also sacrificed half of his power when he turned back time. Due to his smaller stature, doing chores during the day was more difficult than ever. Keeping up with his master and a mansion in the state of his body was difficult work and often resulted in William cleaning well into the early hours of the morning. He would rest for a couple of hours before waking up to prepare MC’s breakfast. He complained out loud about how hard work has been, but he hadn’t expected his master to notice.

William looked around MC’s room. It was full of random items, all items he’d bought for them. He didn’t mind spoiling them. His master was unmatched as an Unholyc even if they didn’t realize it, managing to attract three partners on their first try for their Coming of Age ceremony. Out of all of the things they could be doing, his master plays games. He doesn’t think this is a bad thing. William’s brow furrowed at the memory of the humans. Leo, Sol, and Hi irritated him more than he could put into words.

William closed his eyes. He found the humans to be ungrateful and troublesome. He remembers how he came to be in charge of the 3 dogs.

-The day MC found their humans-

“Master, get up.” William pulled the comforter of the bed back to reveal a sleepy master, fighting him tooth and nail on getting out of bed.

“No!” MC fought, refusing to open their eyes. They rolled onto their side with a huff.

“You have to find a partner for your Coming of Age ceremony. Or, did you already forget? I swear, master. It’s like you intentionally stress me out.” William sighed. “Please, master. It’s time for breakfast and then the car will be ready for you.”

MC sniffled. Even though they weren’t facing William, he could tell they were frowning. “Why do I have to find a partner?” MC asks quietly. Their voice was laced with sleep and something else that William couldn’t place.

William did his best to hide the annoyance in his tone. “You have to in order to complete your ceremony. You have to have a ceremony to become a full fledged Unholyc. Do we need to have this lesson again?” William teased. He knew his master did not want to have that lesson again, but sometimes getting a rise out of them made them rise out of bed.

MC suddenly turned to face William. Their face was flushed and tears pricked the corners of their eyes. William’s eyes widened at them.

They looked angry at him.

“Why? Why do I need to go find a partner? Can’t Liam be my partner?” MC asked, brow furrowed.

Liam was completely taken aback by his master’s sudden boldness. He managed to open his mouth anyway.

“If my master commands it, I will be.”

MC’s face fell. “I see. Forget I said anything, then.” They got out of bed, refusing to meet William’s eye. “I’ll get ready. Please get out so I can change.”

William studied his master’s back before exiting, softly shutting the door behind him. He stood outside of their door for a few moments, gathering himself. He didn’t appreciate his master playing with his emotions like that. He didn’t want to hold out false hope of one day ending up with his master for eternity.

He didn’t want to be like that stupid butler of Shallotte’s, Pierce.

William sighed to himself. They probably only said that because they were too lazy to leave, and William was the easiest option for them since he lived with them already.

MC requested to eat in their room before they went to find their partner. William scolded them for eating meals in their room, however, it was just to mask how sore his chest felt. Truth be told, he didn’t want his master to find a partner. He wanted to be the only one to channel acme into them. He wanted to be their partner for her ceremony, and for their lives.

He wouldn’t admit this, however. He was fine being their butler forever, as long as he could remain by MC’s side.

No matter what, he just wants to be by their side. He won’t be selfish with his relationship with his master. He would only be selfish with being by their side. He told himself to never wish for more and kept the romantic feelings he had for his master buried as far as he could.

MC returned from their hunt for a partner with not only one, but three.

Not only three, but three humans.

William’s blood burned. Not only would be have to share his master, he would have to share them with three humans?

After they excused themselves to MC’s room, William quickly shut the door behind them. He couldn’t watch them channeling their acme into his master.

William’s gaze fell upon MC’s dresser. Before he had to reverse time, this had been where MC placed the gift he gave them on the day of their Coming of Age ceremony.

Even after spending 7 days with those humans, his master still chose him. After all of the hoops they jumped through for those humans, his master still chose him.

Liam sat on MC’s bed before curling himself up in her sheets. When he turned back time and realized what happened to his body, he couldn’t be their partner this time around. One of the humans would have to do it.

He couldn’t protect them like that anymore. He couldn’t provide for them in that way anymore.

Is that why they left today? Is that why they cleaned up after themselves? Were they preparing themselves for a life without William in it?

That must be why she chose the same three humans when he turned back time. They were choosing someone else they could spend eternity with.

-Coming of Age Ceremony-

Sol, Leo, and Hi held a gift out to MC. MC eyed all of them with surprise before tilting their head to the side. “For me?” They asked. All three of the men nodded.

“It’s your special day, my dear.” Leo piped up. “How could we not spoil you today? Especially with how cute you look!” Hi added. “After all you’ve done for us, it’s the least we could do for you, MC.” Sol finished.

William held a hand out in front of his master.

“You can only choose one gift today. Due to it being the day of your ceremony, you must choose the gift from whoever you want your partner to be for your ceremony. Choose one and make it quick.” William explained.

MC bit the inside of their cheek. They looked troubled. They were nervously fidgeting with their hands and shifting back and forth.

“Master.” William spoke up. “Just choose the one from whomever you like the best.”

“But-” MC started before stopping again. “How do I choose only one?”

“What does your heart say, master?” William asked them.

MC looked at William with tinted cheeks. “D- Did you get me a gift, Liam?”

William’s eyes widened along with the eyes of all three humans.

“I....” William trailed off. MC stared at them, urging him to continue. “....Did. I did get you a gift. However, it was a while back ago, since we’ve been waiting many years for this ceremony and all-”

“Please, can I have it?” MC cut him off. “I- I want you to be my partner. But only if you want to be my partner!” MC started fumbling over their words. “I didn’t want to order you to be my partner. I wanted you to want to be my partner.” They added softly. William barely picked up the last part. William began his ascent up the staircase.

“Excuse me for a moment.” He said over his shoulder.

William went to his room before grabbing the carefully wrapped gift. He’d gotten this for MC long ago and would re-wrap it every so often so that it still looked new. He didn’t think he would ever be giving this to them. He wasn’t going to hold back or allow MC to change their mind a second time.

William felt foolish. If he’d have just said yes to MC a week ago, he never would have had to deal with those humans. He never would have had to share his master with anyone. He wanted to make them happy over everything else, though. He didn’t know if they would be happy being his partner or if they were just scared to go find a new one.

Either way, he should have kept his mouth shut.

Descending back down the stairs, William gently took his master’s hand and led them away from the commotion and into the hallway. MC’s face was flushed and William couldn’t hold back his smile.

“Master,” William started, taking their hand in his. “In order for me to be your partner, we must first be under contract.”

MC’s eyes widened. They must have just come to this realization. “Oh!” They exclaim. “Is it okay to do it this late into my ceremony?”

“Considering all of the steps you’ve messed up this week, breaking one more rule shouldn’t make a difference. You know the magic words, master.” William guided MC to a chaise in the hallway and knelt down in front of them. “Bind me with a contract.”

After MC recited the magic words, William felt his entire body flooding with acme. Even though he’s a few hundred years old, this feeling was new. Acme was coursing through his veins as he gazed upon his master. He’s always loved his master without question, but this feeling was different than anything he’s felt before.

Lust. Protective. Adoration. Fear. Yearning. Love.

He understood why those humans would sacrifice themselves for his master after knowing them a short time. The admiration he was feeling toward his master was almost unbearable.

William took MC’s hand in his before planting a kiss on the back of their hand. When his lips met their skin, he began to let his acme pour from him.

“I, William, accept this contract to be MC’s partner.” He verbally signed his contract with his master before placing his lips back on their hand.

He was trying to hold back the best he could, but several years of pent up one-sided love was flowing out of him at an unstoppable speed. MC moaned, burying their face into their shoulder to muffle the sounds. William trailed his lips up MC’s arm, allowing his acme to pour into them with each kiss.

Wrist.

Forearm.

Bicep.

With one final kiss to the shoulder, William forces himself to pull back. His master’s face was flushed, mouth open as they were panting. William leaned up and placed his forehead onto MC’s.

“Liam.” They whined his name. It was music to his ears.

“Yes, master. I am here.”

“Liam?” MC gently shook William’s shoulder. He was sleep in their bed, glasses still on his face and hair disheveled. William’s eyes opened and fixed on the room around him. It was dark outside and he had grown into his adult body when he was napping.

“Master,” William called out to them softly. “What else can I do?”

MC’s eyebrows knitted together as they sat next to William on their bed. “What do you mean?”

William couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around their waist and buried his face into their side.

“What else can I do so that you’ll want me to stay?” He asked them. He felt his chest swelling with each passing second, waiting for them to tell him to leave their room, waiting for them to yell at him in disgust.

However, to William’s surprise, MC smiled softly at him.

“Did you spend your entire day off in here?” They asked him softly, smoothing his hair down with their fingers. William’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the contact but he forced himself to look MC in the eye before nodding. When he snapped out of his daze, his eyes narrowed.

“Day off?” He questioned. He raised his eyebrows at them when he finally registered what they were saying.

“Yes, your day off. What did you think today was? I told you to relax!” They scold him playfully, poking him in the side with their finger.

“So, you were trying to give me a break?” William attempted to get clarification. He was just wallowing in self pity all day for potentially nothing.

MC sighed at him. “I know how hard it’s been adjusting to your body. You’ve looked after me for so long now, and I’m sorry I haven’t been looking after you as well.”

William felt a lump develop in his throat. He tried to swallow.

“You don’t have to do that, master.” William stated. “It’s my job to look after you.”

“True, but it’s my job as someone who loves you to notice when you’re struggling and take some of the burden off.” MC stated back. William’s eyes widened at his master, staring at them with a mix of wonder and admiration for a moment before composing himself.

“I know you’re holding back because of the circumstances, but I will always love you.” MC continued. “I’m going to work hard this week to try and help you get your body back. We will find a way. Then, I want Liam to be my partner again.”

William’s grip tightened on his master.

“I will always be master’s butler. So please, never stop needing me.” He mumbled into their side. “I love you, MC. Let me stay by your side.”

MC rubbed his back affectionately. “And master will always be Liam’s master.”

#love unholyc #love unholyc william #love unholyc fanfiction #love unholyc fluff #love unholyc one shot #william x mc #william x reader #william fluff #william love unholyc

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angellesword · 4 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (02)

➭ You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, unrequited love, heavy angst, fluff, lawyer au.

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

SERIES: CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

"Please, Joon. I just need to know if he's okay..."

Namjoon scratched the back of his head while looking at Red. The latter was practically begging him to spill things he's been forbidden to utter. He was sure he's just seconds away from telling her what she wanted to know, but then he's abruptly reminded of how heartbroken Jungkook was.

"Don't tell her I'm here," tears painted Jungkook's cheeks. "I don't want to see her. Not now." Or ever...

"He's not here, Red. I'm sorry," Namjoon sighed, trying to close the front door of his small apartment; regrettably, Red stopped him before the door shut in her sad face."I know he doesn't want to see me." She said with a shaky voice—causing Namjoon to purse his lips into a thin line.

"Right." He couldn't help but say. She deserved the snarky remark for hurting Jungkook beyond repair.

"But I'm worried about him. H-He was...so mad when he left."

'Who wouldn't?' Namjoon wanted to say, yet he kept his lips glued together. He needed to remind himself that although she hurt Jungkook, Red was still his friend.

"I'm sure he'll be fine wherever he is." Namjoon's caught Red's eyes. "Jungkook is strong, you know."

"I know." She looked at her feet; this caused the man inside the house to also look down. Namjoon was so busy shooing Red away that he didn't notice a big box on the ground. Judging by the looks of it, he deduced that this box belonged to Jungkook. The tower of sketchpads and other art materials was already a giveaway.

"Can you give this to him, though? I'm not sure when I'll get to see him again, and I know he can't live without this stuff, so..." Red picked up the box. "Please, Joonie..." She added when the older boy didn't say anything.

"Fine."

In the end, Namjoon gave in. He didn't have a choice. This was the only way to make her leave; however, he instantly regretted his decision when he spotted Jungkook sitting on the couch."What did she say?" Jungkook inquired eagerly; his eyes flew on the box that's juggling in Namjoon's arms. Jungkook saw his friend trip over a non-existent stone.

Namjoon was really clumsy.

"She wants me to give this to you." The older boy handed the box to Jungkook in exchange for his precious daughter.

"Ji-eun..." Namjoon cooed, bopping the nose of his three-year-old child. Ji-eun chuckled; her little finger was poking her father's deep dimple.

"Appa!" Ji-eun's eyes twinkled. She missed being in her father's embrace even though it hadn't been long since Namjoon left her with Jungkook.

Ji-eun couldn't help it. Jungkook used to be the fun uncle, but all he did now was cry and snort. Admittedly, she's getting tired of wiping his tears every second.

She wondered who made uncle Jungkook cry.

"Huh." Jungkook huffed as he examined what was inside the box. Namjoon was right. It's full of the younger boy's stuff.

"Is she really so eager to kick me out of the house that she personally brought my things here!?"Jungkook was seeing red. Profanities left his lips as acid dripped down his stomach. He's so mad at his ex.

"Language, Jeon," Namjoon warned, turning away from Jungkook. He couldn't let Ji-eun listen to the younger boy's dirty mouth. "Besides, you're the one who left."

Jungkook didn't know how to respond to that, mainly because Namjoon was correct. He was the one who left in the middle of the fight. In his defense, he was hurt. What Red was saying was too much for him—it was painful, the kind of pain he knew would forever haunt him.

"I love him, Kook."

Red's confession echoed in Jungkook's mind again. Red told him she loved her soulmate. Jungkook didn't want to believe her because how? How could she fall in love with another man just by looking at him in the eyes?

"We've been seeing each other for months now."

His question had been answered. Red was a cheater, and it's the last straw for Jungkook. He couldn't take it anymore, so he stood up.

"I hate you, bitch!"

The pain that crossed Red's face indicated that Jungkook had gone too far. He didn't mean it, but he's hurt, and this was the only way he could hurt her back.

Before Red could say anything, Jungkook was already out of the door.

It's two am in the morning. Jungkook was certain that the only awake person that he could bother right now was none other than Namjoon, his brother-in-law.

Thankfully, Namjoon's apartment was just a few blocks away from Red's home.

"Kook?" Namjoon squinted his eyes after opening the door. He's been awake for straight twenty-seven hours to the point that he couldn't tell if Jungkook was really in front of him or if he's just hallucinating.

"Hyung..." Jungkook broke into tears upon seeing his only family.

Namjoon let the crying boy inside his house.

"I ran out of tea..." This was Namjoon's excuse when he handed Jungkook Ji-eun's milk. Namjoon didn't even have time to buy his groceries since his daughter occupied most of his time.

Fortunately, it looked like Jungkook didn't give two fucks as he was already halfway finished drinking the warm milk.

It's been exactly fifteen minutes since the younger boy came knocking on Namjoon's humble abode. Jungkook had stopped crying, though he still looked a little shaken.

"Red found her soulmate..." Jungkook spoke right before Namjoon could ask what happened. Suddenly, the older boy found himself biting his bottom lip. He didn't want to pry about Jungkook's life, but then he's reminded of the wish of Hye-Jin, his late wife.

"Take care of my brother, Joon..."

"D-Do you wanna talk about it?" Namjoon asked before he changed his mind. This was the only thing he could do for Hye-Jin.

"What's there to talk about?" Jungkook hissed even though he's the one who started telling Namjoon things. The latter kept his head low. In times like this, he wasn't sure what to say.

It's not like he's better than Red. Namjoon also broke up with the woman he was dating right after meeting Hye-Jin. The only difference was that Namjoon's ex perfectly understood the situation. She knew that they weren't destined to be together.

"She cheated on me. She said she's in love with her soulmate." The bitter taste in Jungkook's mouth was still there. It only strengthened as soon as the word 'soulmate' left his lips. Jungkook continued pouring his heart out to Namjoon despite saying he didn't want to talk about it.

"She's going to regret leaving me. No one can love her the way I do!" Jungkook swore, but Namjoon's almost 100% sure he's wrong.

Seeing colors were different. It felt like everything was perfect. Namjoon couldn't deny that one of the many reasons he fell in love with Hye-Jin was because she helped him see the wonderful hues.

It's like the more he fell in love with her, the brighter the colors became. Even now that she's dead, Namjoon could still see colors. Granted that it kind of faded, it's still the best thing Namjoon was proud to experience.

The rule of the world was simple. As long as your soulmate was in love with you, the colors would always be visible in your very eyes. It would only become less bright if your soulmate died. However, the case of a one-sided love was different. People wouldn't be able to see colors if their soulmates didn't give them their hearts.

Some said that there were cases wherein people went blind when their soulmates started to hate them. Namjoon and Jungkook didn't know if it was true or just a myth. After all, they hadn't encountered people who apparently 'went' blind because of the mentioned reason."I'm telling you, hyung. She'll come to see me soon."

Jungkook was right. Two weeks after their fight, Red showed up. Unfortunately, it's not to beg her ex to come back. She only returned a box full of his stuff, a clear sign that she's officially kicking him out of their shared apartment.

"How can she do this to me? It's my house too!" Said Jungkook nine days after Red's appearance in front of Namjoon's apartment, it finally dawned to him that his ex was no longer a part of his life.

It's really over.

Jungkook realized this while staring dumbly at his ruined sketchpads. Ji-eun accidentally spilled a glass of water on her uncle's drawing.

The mixture of pain, anger, and frustration caused Jungkook to scream. He couldn't possibly be mad at a three-year-old kid; that's why he just directed his negative emotions to the fact that Red practically kicked him out of their home—his home.

He was aware that Red's name was written in the lease contract, but Jungkook paid this year's rental fee. He's broke at the moment. This being the case, Jungkook swallowed his pride to come to live with his brother-in-law. The thing was, it's getting hard for him to stay there. Namjoon had only one room, so Jungkook slept on the couch—wait, this wasn't about right. Jungkook didn't even get to sleep. Ji-eun's cries wouldn't allow him to do so. Aside from this, the little kid had also ruined her uncle's drawings countless times now.

"Seriously, Kook. You need to move out of your brother-in-law's house." Taehyung pouted his lips.

Jungkook couldn't decide if he could take his friend's advice seriously, at least not when Taehyung's tongue was basically down Jimin's throat.

"I can't afford to lease a new place." Jungkook scrunched his nose, eyes still focused on the disgusting public display of affection in front of him. "I only have forty dollars in my bank account."

"Oh, you poor thing." Jimin slightly pushed his boyfriend's chest to dodge his kisses and to be able to look at Jungkook.

Jungkook snorted. He didn't want to be babied, especially not by Park Jimin, who he met just a few months back.

Park Jimin was Taehyung's real soulmate. It was still weird seeing them together. All his life, Jungkook believed that Taehyung, his childhood best friend, was a straight man. Taehyung dated a lot of women before; he also seemed to enjoy being with them.

This was one of the reasons why Jungkook hated the idea of a soulmate. It was a complete bull. It was unfair to let fate decide who you'll end up with. Jungkook witnessed Taehyung's struggle after meeting Jimin. He was happy that he could finally see colors and that it didn't take him long to like Jimin, but Taehyung was so confused.

Like Jungkook, Taehyung also thought he was straight, but then his world suddenly turned upside down. Before he knew it, Taehyung was crying. He was too overwhelmed with what was happening, and Jungkook hated it. The latter didn't care about genders; he supported those who didn't identify themselves as heterosexual. Jungkook hated that people had to limit what they thought their gender was just because of the concept of soulmate. Again, it was not fair.

"But I can help you..." Jimin added as he took a bite of his frozen yogurt. They were currently inside of an ice cream shop. Jungkook had to get out of Namjoon's home since it was getting hard to look at his ruined works. He called his best friend to help him destress. Jungkook just had to let his frustrations out. Luckily, Taehyung and Jimin were more than happy to treat their younger friend some frozen yogurts. Jungkook ordered three of the said dessert.

"No, Jimin." Taehyung said as if he'd read his boyfriend's mind. "Jungkookie isn't going to suck your dick for money."

"Aw." Jimin's lips protruded into a sulky pout, making Jungkook roll his eyes. Sometimes he couldn't believe the couple's relationship. Jungkook knew that Jimin was only joking, but Jungkook thought he couldn't let the love of his life think about someone else's body. He was pretty possessive.

"We can call Yoongi-hyung, though. I think he's in the mood for some dicks—"

"Guys!" Jungkook groaned, cutting them off. His eyes were widening too. "Can we stop talking about dicks for five seconds? I have a serious problem here."

"Oh, right!" Jimin's eyes lit up. He also cleared his throat—an action that made Jungkook sigh in relief; at least he's getting serious now. "You need to find a roommate, Kook. Lucky for you, I have a friend who's looking for a housemate. I think she could cut you off some slack."

The younger boy's scoff was almost instant. "Cut me off some slack?" He narrowed his eyes at Jimin. "I don't want to owe anything to anyone. You know that."

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, taking another bite of his frozen yogurt. "It's not like that. You'll actually be the one doing her a favor. She's in dire need of a roommate, Kook. She wouldn't mind if you couldn't pay rent right now, as long as you're willing to keep the house clean and look after her cat. You can do that, right?"

Of course, Jungkook could. He was an artist; he spent most of his time inside his home, silently drawing whatever came into his mind.

"Huh." Jungkook was still skeptical. "Can't she just hire a maid?"

"Wish it was that easy. She's a mess. Not even her maids can tolerate her shit. Besides, her cat is a total bitch. She scratches anyone that's not her owner."

"I'm not sure..." Jungkook scowled. He wasn't sure if he could live with a stranger. Jungkook was a shy boy; it actually took him a long time to even say 'hello' to Jimin.

"Just think about it, Jungkook..." Jimin smiled warmly at the younger boy. "I swear she's a decent person. Yes, she's messy, but aside from that, she's fine. She doesn't pry on anyone's life; she's quiet, just like you, and oh! She likes banana milk too! I swear, Kook. You'll like her!"

For some reason, Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. He knew Jimin was kind, he's the type of person who always talked about the good qualities of a certain someone, but this was the first time he spoke about someone with such passion.

Jimin continued to talk about you, his lovely best friend. If you could hear him right now, you were sure you'd end up crying. Jimin was indeed the best friend you could ask. He's fiercely loyal.

"It's true, Kook. You'll love her." Taehyung talked about you with the same intensity. He had met you, and he instantly fell in love with you. You were smart and witty.

The couple continued sharing things they loved about you. Jungkook swore he's not easy to convince. The only acceptable reason why he's standing in front of your apartment was that Taehyung and his boyfriend knew the magic of words. They had done an excellent job convincing him.

Jungkook let out an exasperated breath when you still didn't answer the door after his ninth attempt to knock. Truthfully, he was getting pissed off.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

Just as when he was about to leave, the door suddenly opened with so much force. Jungkook was startled.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking, so I slipped down the floor, and I..." You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jungkook to see his reaction.

You were rambling about how this whole situation was so embarrassing, but Jungkook wasn't listening anymore. How could he focus on anything when his heart was beating this fast? Jungkook was pissed before he met your eyes, right now; the irritation he felt was rapidly boiling down to panic when he realized what was happening.

Colors.

Jungkook was used to seeing black and white, so imagine his confusion when the colors suddenly became visible in his eyes.

Nothing made sense to him, but one thing's for sure.

Jungkook had found his soulmate.

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Question, if worm man is hels zed then would helsknight at some point recognize him? I’m pretty sure they would either:

A) have a odd run-in with each other

B) helsknight threatens to tell the server and they become rivals

OOOOOOH BOY i got inspired :D

Helsaph hops out of the portal at the Yes Wings Club and approaches the building. Part of him regrets declining Impulse’s invitation to show him around but Helsaph thinks it’s a good test. The only person he’s likely to meet here is Wels, and Wels likely doesn’t know Zedaph well enough to be able to differentiate between Zedaph and Helsaph.

Speaking of Wels…

“Oh, hello, Zedaph,” Wels says casually, a bit-too-friendly smile on his face, as he exits the Yes Wings Club.

Helsaph keeps his guard up but manages a friendly, if nervous, smile back. “Hi, Wels. How are you?”

“Pretty good. Haven’t seen you around in a while, Zedaph.”

“I’ve been… busy. Good busy though.”

Wels nods. “That’s good to hear, Zedaph.”

A shiver runs down Helsaph’s spine. “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”

“IS it your name, though?”

Helsaph freezes, panic briefly flickering across his face. “...what do you mean?”

Wels’s smile turns into a triumphant grin. “I knew it. You can’t hide from me; I know you too well.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” says Helsaph, avoiding eye contact. “Excuse me.”

He starts to leave.

“I wouldn’t walk away from me if I were you, Helsaph.”

Helsaph stops dead, his heart skipping a beat. He slowly turns back to face the person who clearly isn’t Welsknight.

“Got your attention now, have I?” the person chuckles. “Frankly, I’m a little hurt that you didn’t recognise me straight away. Or maybe you did and you hoped I wouldn’t recognise you.”

Helsaph does recognise him now. In fact, he can hardly believe he ever thought this person was Wels. “What are you doing here, Helsknight?”

“Just out for a walk.” Helsknight shrugs casually. “Is that a crime?”

“I mean on this server,” responds Helsaph. “Last I heard, you were banished back to Helscraft in Season 7.”

“Oh you heard about that? Good news travels far and wide, doesn’t it?”

Helsaph narrows his eyes. “Helsknight, stop playing around with me. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want to know why you’re running around the server pretending to be Zedaph when you know full well the real Zedaph is back home in his base.” Helsknight’s eyes gleam. “Are you up to something evil?”

“No, I live here now,” Helsaph says. “Wait, what do you mean the real- Have you been spying on us?!”

Helsaph is not encouraged by the grin on Helsknight’s face.

“Maybe,” he responds. “Maybe not. Point is, I know a lot. Including the fact that you’re not supposed to be on this server.”

“That’s not a point, that’s just an ominous statement.” Helsaph frowns. “Are you threatening me?”

Helsknight nods. “Yup. I’d really like you to realise right now that I could go over to Xisuma and tell him a LOT of interesting things.”

Helsaph’s breath catches in his throat.

Immediately, Helsknight grins triumphantly. “Uh huh, that’s what I was waiting for. The flicker of panic on your face. That’s how I knew it was you and not the real Zedaph. I know you too well, Helsaph.”

“Helsknight…” Helsaph stares at Helsknight in fear. “Why would you want to ruin this for me? I’m finally in a place that makes me happy after years and years of-.”

“Because helsmits aren’t supposed to be happy!” Helsknight bursts out suddenly. “You think I’M happy?! I’m stuck here on this server trying to kill my counterpart so I can escape Helscraft forever! Constantly having to look over my shoulder and hide! Trying to gather resources in a world that rebels against my every move! Why should YOU-” He jabs his finger at Helsaph. “-get to be happy and I don’t?!”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Helsknight,” Helsaph says pleadingly. “Befriend your counterpart. Wels is a loving and understanding person; he’ll take you in the way Zedaph took me in.”

Helsknight stares at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking. You think I’m gonna crawl to him after all this time of trying to kill him and beg to be forgiven?! And even if he does, then what? I’d be stuck in the same position as you! Still forced to hide, not allowed to do anything, stuck under the thumb of my idiot counterpart.”

“He can-.”

But Helsknight sharply waves his hand, stopping Helsaph. “NO. My goal is to kill Welsknight so I can absorb his lifeforce and get the hell away from everyone here. THAT is the goal of a helsmit.” His upper lip curls in disgust. “Not to run around dressed like an idiot trying to fight imaginary crime.”

Helsaph takes an involuntary step back. “Y-You know about that…?”

“Of course!” snaps Helsknight. “You make me sick, Helsaph. I’d rather die than suffer that indignity.”

“Well, it- it was a little awkward at first but I grew to really enjoy it,” Helsaph explains. “It sure beat returning to Helscraft, that’s for sure.”

“You pathetic little-!” Helsknight breaks off with a sneer. “You’re not fit to be called a helsmit! I’m not existing here on this server knowing you’re out there being HAPPY.”

He turns and starts to walk away but Helsaph, before he can stop himself, jumps into his path. “I won’t let you do this to me, Helsknight,” he says, forcing his voice to stay steady.

“Get out of my way,” growls Helsknight.

Helsaph shakes his head. “No. I’ve suffered too hard and for too long for this to just let you take it all away from me.”

“Well then, the only way to save it is to kill me.”

For a moment, Helsaph thinks he heard Helsknight wrong. “Wh-What?”

“Kill me,” repeats Helsknight firmly.

“W-Will you respawn?”

Helsknight rolls hie eys. “Of course not, idiot. You know the rules: if a helsmit dies outside of Helscraft, they die forever.”

“Then why are you telling me to kill you?!” yelps Helsaph.

“Because that’s the only way to save your precious new life.” Helsknight takes a step closer to Helsaph. “Do you want it that badly that you’d murder another helsmit to keep it?”

Helsaph doesn’t respond.

Helsknight snorts. “Thought not.”

With that, he moves past Helsaph and keeps walking away.

Making a quick decision, Helsaph draws his sword and lunges to attack Helsknight, but he makes the mistake of letting out a yell as he does. Helsknight spins round and meets the blow with his own sword.

Helsaph is not a good fighter, so having lost the element of surprise, Helsknight is able to easily disarm him and knock him to the ground. As Helsaph tries to get up, he feels the point of Helsknight’s sword touching his neck, causing him to freeze.

“You never were a good fighter, Helsaph,” laughs Helsknight tauntingly. “You, Impulstor, Foxtrot. None of you could ever beat me even when you all came at me at once. You nev-.”

With a sudden burst of strength, Helsaph tackles Helsknight to the ground and snatches his sword off him, holding it threateningly out with both hands.

Helsknight laughs again as he sits up. “Wow. Genuinely, wow. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t ever bring up Impulstor and Foxtrot again,” Helsaph growls. “Ever.”

“Or what?” Helsknight says challengingly.

Good question, Helsaph thinks to himself.

ALoud, he says, “I don’t WANT to kill you, Helsknight. But you’ve no idea what I’ve gone through the last few decades. How much I’ve suffered to get here. I’m not going back to that.”

“Hm.” Helsknight raises an eyebrow as he regards Helsaph as if seeing him in a new light. “You know what? This could be interesting. You’re running around playing hero, huh? A hero needs a villain.”

“I’ve already got one.”

“Evil Xisuma?” snorts Helsknight. “Don’t make me laugh. They’re nothing but a pest.”

“Don’t you-!” starts Helsaph furiously.

But Helsknight again interrupts him. “So here’s what’s gonna happen. You and I are gonna fight a bit. I’m gonna cause some mischief around the server. If you can defeat me in a fight and get me locked up fair and square, I won’t tell Xisuma about you.”

Helsaph narrows his eyes. “I don’t trust you one bit.”

“Nor should you,” responds Helsknight.

After a moment, Helsaph says, “What if I just go tell Xisuma about me right now? I’m sure he’ll be receptive when he finds out how well I’m doing here.”

Helsknight barks a laugh. “HA! The man who banned his own sibling from the server?”

Helsaph stares at Helsknight with a frown. “What?”

“Evil Xisuma didn’t tell you that, huh?” Helsknight seers. “Well I hate to break it to you but if a man can banish his own sibling to the void for decades and decades, I don’t think he’ll be very happy to learn that an ACTUAL helsmit is living here and has in fact been part of Hermitcraft before. That might get your little buddy Zedaph into trouble, huh?”

Helsaph scowls and says nothing. He hadn’t considered the trouble his counterpart would get into if he’s discovered.

Helsknight rises to his feet and stretches. “Touched a nerve there, I think. I’ll see you around, Helsaph.”

Helsaph lets Helsknight take his sword back and glares down at the ground. “I hate you.”

“Good,” responds Helsknight. “You think I want to be liked?”

“Maybe it’d do you some good,” Helsaph mutters, folding his arms, “to have someone actually think you’re worth something.”

A pause.

Then Helsaph cries out as he feels something sharp slice a cut in his arm. His free hand flying to cover the area, he spins round to find Helsknight standing disturbingly close, the tip of his sword blade glistening with drops of blood.

“I’d watch what I say if I were you,” he says warningly, lifting the sword close to Helsaph’s face. “My patience only extends so far.”

Clutching his arm, Helsaph takes off running back down the path and into the nether portal he came from. He sprints through the nether tunnels back towards Zedaph’s base, his heart hammering in his chest. There are no thoughts in his mind as to how he’s going to explain his injury to Zedaph.

All he wants is to get as far away from Helsknight as possible.

#hermitcraft #helsknight #helsaph #helsmits #vaunna writes

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deancasbigbang · 3 years

Text

Title: Take Me Higher

Author: bappy211

Artist: Tsuminoaru

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Cas, Dean/Bela (brief & mentions of past), mentions of past Dean/Lisa, mentions of past Cas/others, Sam/Eileen

Length: 41211

Warnings: Mentions/Flashback of suicidal ideation & self-harm Homophobic language (one scene) Brief Depictions of Violence

Tags: D/S Dynamic, Mechanic Dean, Dean POV, Pining, Slowish Burn, Mention of Past Alcohol Abuse, Top Cas/Bottom Dean, John Winchester's A+ parenting, Domestic Dean/Cas,

Posting Date: October 5, 2021

Summary: A decade ago, pride, selfishness and an inability to accept who he was had resulted in Dean watching as his best friend walked away without turning back. Not much has changed ten years later. He lives in the same town, talks to the same people and grapples with the same problems. At 28 Dean still says he doesn't know what he wants out of life, when the truth is he knows, has known, exactly what he wants, or at least who he wants. He wants the boy who left, the one he had definitively shoved out of his life when they were 18. A decade ago Cas left, frustrated and hurt at his friends unwillingness to live his own life, to break out of the box he had been forced into. In that time Cas had never really stopped trying to run away from the city, or rather the boy who had broken his heart. Now, at their 10-year high school reunion; Dean's only concern is avoiding any and all attention, especially if it's coming from a particular long-lost, blue-eyed boy. Cas's sole focus is on finding the man who unknowingly still owns a piece of him.

Excerpt: He strode across the room and ordered two more drinks, throwing a tip in the jar. While he waited he looked around, trying to figure out if there was anyone else he should try avoiding for the short time he planned on being there. Then he spotted an all too familiar mop of dark, unruly hair walking through the door, Dean spun away quickly, trying to catch his breath. Fuck. The bartender handed him his drinks and he practically ran back to the safety of his dark, secluded table. Bela, of course, noticed the near-frenzied state Dean was suddenly in when he handed her drink over and sat down. She started looking out over the room, trying to piece together who may have sent her tablemate into a panic; then her eyes landed on him and a wicked grin spread over her face. “Ah, your blue-eyed angel is here,” she cooed. “Shut up,” Dean muttered, sinking down in his seat, averting his gaze. Bela stared at him incredulously and chuckled. “What the fuck happened between you two anyway? Suddenly you just hated each other, after being connected at the...well, practically everything for a majority of our time at this school,” she asked innocently. And it was a valid question, no one really knew what happened between the two of them. As far as everyone knew, one day they just stopped talking. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. I just don’t want to see him,” Dean mumbled, downing about half his drink in one go. Bela sighed and rolled her eyes. “You boys were always so dramatic.” “Excuse me?” Dean sat up straighter suddenly, staring her down. “Oh please, you with your constant ‘he’s just a friend’ and that was before he came out senior year, which threw you into an obvious spiral. You were always so concerned about what other people might think just because you two were ‘best friends’.” Bela gave him a knowing and disbelieving look before she continued. “Yet, practically everyone knew damn well that you two were more than that. You just never wanted to admit it to yourself let alone anyone else,” Bela said with a shrug before taking a sip of her drink. Well shit, she quite literally just succinctly and nonchalantly laid out what had always been one of his biggest fears and subsequent regrets of his high school career, hell...still to this day if he was honest, like it was nothing. Who the hell was she to assume she knew so much about him?

DCBB 2021 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2021 #fic preview #2021 promo #deancas #destiel

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mermaidxatxheart · 3 years

Text

Better Together Chapter 5

Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it. Comments are always welcome. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask. My works are not to be posted anywhere.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: violence, panic, swearing probably.

Chapter 4

Chapter Five

Leaves whip across your face, scratching the bruised skin of your cheek.

Dirt shifts under your feet.

Your fingers slip on Poe’s shirt and you struggle to regain your grasp.

Panting echoes in your ear, mirroring your erratic, pounding heartbeat.

Roots seem to stretch out of the ground, determined to trip you.

You can’t see more than a foot in front of you.

You stumble, crashing to your knees.

Poe’s grunt is muted, soft, as he lands next to you. Your entire torso feels like it’s on fire.

You want to stay down, to just give up.

But you can’t.

Not yet.

The river is ahead of you. You can hear it.

You start again, ignoring the burning in your muscles.

The trip back is impossible. Too long. Too far. Your urgency makes you clumsy. Your injuries make you weak.

Blaster fire snaps and crackles over your head and you yelp, ducking out of reflex. Poe shoots over your shoulder and you hear the grunt as one of your pursuers goes down.

You have to outsmart them, lose them before they can follow you to your ship. Everything will have been for nothing if that happens.

It takes more time than you can afford, but finally you can board. You guide Poe to the built in sofa and run to the cockpit, getting ready for take off.

Your hands are shaking.

You can’t breathe.

Your vision is doubling.

It’s blurry.

You smash the buttons, definitely not being careful. The engine rumbles after too long of being dormant. You push the throttle to full blast, not caring if you burned down the entire forest.

Fuck this planet.

You plot a random course, jumping to hyperspace the second you can. You run back to Poe, grabbing the cart of medical supplies. You don’t care about your own wounds, only focused on him.

“They probably,” he starts and you nod, jabbing him with a bacta shot.

“I know. I’m taking precautions.” You mutter, avoiding his face. You can’t look at him. Not now. Not after everything.

“Hey, do you think,” he starts and you clench your jaw together as you wrap his bleeding leg as best you can. “Do you think Leia is sobbing uncontrollably right now because she misses me so much?” He asks, hissing quietly.

“Yes.” You reply, tying it tight.

“It’s worse than I feared.” He continues and you push yourself up, heading back for the cockpit, not waiting to hear what’s worse.

You take your natural seat, the co-pilot’s chair and take the wheel. Your hands are scraped and bloody from falling, among who knows what else. The secret stitches all over your body pull uncomfortably, you’ve probably ripped them open. They were crude to begin with.

You can’t just sit here. You have to look for tracking beacons. You force yourself to stand and head back through the cabin, avoiding Poe, even though you can feel his dark eyes on you.

You don’t blame him for hating you. He’s in this mess because of you.

You search the entire ship, maintaining your isolation until you drop out of hyperspace. There’s no tracker inside. There’s a decent chance that the ship was never found in the first place. But you have to be sure.

You head back to the cabin and guide the ship to an asteroid, landing on the dark side. You don’t notice the bloody hand prints you’ve left everywhere, mind too wild and overwhelmed with panic.

“Y/N.” Poe starts and you ignore him, grabbing the oxygen mask and lowering the ramp. It’s cold outside the ship, cold enough to turn your fingers blue.

Good. Maybe they’ll freeze and fall off, and then you can’t hurt anyone else.

You climb all over the outside of the ship, checking in absolutely every little space that could hide something like that, but there’s nothing.

Still…

Hesitation eats at you.

You take a minute outside, hiding like a fucking coward, before going back in and starting the engines once more.

“Find anything?” Poe asks from behind you. You jump, smacking your hand on the hyper speed lever as you try to turn.

“Damn it.” You curse quietly, holding your throbbing hand to your midsection. “Go lay down. I’ve got this.” You tell him, turning back around, trying to get your heart to calm the hell down.

“Y/N,” he starts, but you can’t take the look in his eyes, the ones filled with regret.

“Go. I didn’t find anything.” You say shortly and he eases himself into the pilot’s chair-his seat.

He looks over the console, reading all the flashing lights as easily as a second language. “But you’re still light speed skipping?” He frowns, turning to look at you.

You don’t try to make him understand. How can you? Your last gut instinct turned out so bad, he can’t possibly trust you again.

“Safety precaution.” You mumble, flipping some more switches.

He studies you for a minute, the silence dragging on and you want to scream at him to stop, to go away. But you don’t. And the silence drags on.

“Alright.” He says finally. “But you’ll need my help.” He finishes and you squeeze your eyes shut before nodding. You start the flight sequence, your broken heart doing little twists in your chest. You don’t know if this is going to work, or if there’s even a need for it. But you’ve committed now, you have to follow through.

The ship lifts and you hover before punching it to hyperspace. Radar is still clear as you course correct around crazy land masses. Spires of solid rock shoot straight into the sky as you maneuver. Poe’s grip is tight on the wheel, he’s nervous. He doesn’t trust you.

And just as well.

But the realization still hurts. Your best friend has lost all faith in you.

You flip the next switch, lining up the next location and Poe initiates, sending you back into the seat with a painful grunt. He glances at you, but you won’t show weakness, not when he was nothing but strong for you. You can hide this.

Water reflects a brilliantly lit sky, two suns reflect off a glittering lake, almost blinding you as you rocket towards the tree line in the distance. Radar is still clear.

Again, another planet where you’re steering for your life, praying to the Maker that you don’t crash.

Another, and then just one more.

Poe is silent through the whole thing. Realizing you were wrong, you were never being followed, you cheeks heat with shame as you plot the course for home.

“Go clean your hands, I’ve got it from here.” He says finally.

Carefully, painfully, you peel your hands off. The skin, sticky with blood and cuts adheres to the wheel, pinching and pulling as you lift them. Fresh blood rushes to the surface and you hurry from the cockpit to the refresher.

You turn on the water and scrub your hands, removing more skin than you’re cleaning, doing just as much harm as good. Your reflection taunts you in the mirror, staring at you, blaming you. Wildly, you fling it open, exposing the cabinet behind with all of Poe’s things; medicine, shaving supplies. The tightness grows in your throat and you drop your gaze, scrubbing harder, as if that could make everything go away.

Your nose burns and your eyes blur and you sniffle. Maker, you’re fucking crying while Poe is in there, flying the entire ship by himself while he’s injured and you’re in here, crying like a little fucking girl because you feel guilty.

The ship drops out of hyperspace and you crash back into the wall, head smacking the corner of the shower stall. Pain flares down your neck as you struggle to regain your balance.

Poe’s voice comes on the speaker. “Sorry about that. Had to drop out early. Making our descent now.” He tells you.

“Do…” you cut off, your voice rough, and so fucking weak. “D-do you need help?” You manage and the silence drags on.

“No.” Comes the short reply.

You want to wail, to cry. To tell him how fucking sorry you are! You’re sorry for the kiss, and for getting him caught— but he won’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses and bumbling.

You slide to the floor, knees pressed tight against your chest as you try to breathe, try to steady yourself. The tight space helps, and acts as a compression unit. But it’s not enough. Not after everything you’ve done.

You can feel when the ship makes landfall and panic rises in your chest, sheer, blinding panic. The engines cut off and you hope Poe walks right off the ship to get looked at. Your ribs ache with the effort of holding everything in, of being silent.

And then a short knock on the door jolts you. “We’re here, Y/N. We’re home. Open the door.” He says, there’s something strange in his voice and for a moment your heart stutters in your chest. How sure are you that what you brought with you is actually your Poe? Does the First Order have capabilities on this level?

“You go ahead. I’ll b-be out in a minute.” You call and he sighs.

“Open the door.” He repeats.

“Poe, I-... I just need a minute. Please? Go get yourself taken care of.” You plead.

“You have to get looked at, too.” He reminds you.

“I know. I will.” You promise. Just not anywhere he can see you. There’s an uncomfortable moment of silence before you hear him turn and limp away.

You can hear him speaking at the bottom of the ramp, but then there’s a commotion and he’s shouting. Your name is mixed in and you scramble back from the door, already trapped, nowhere to go. Poe’s shouting gets louder, more frantic and tears finally escape as you shove yourself into the shower, twisting to hide. Clearly, this isn’t the resistance you left, the First Order got here before you, tricked Poe into landing. Now they’re going to finish what they started.

The door to the stall is pushed back, revealing a face you thought you recognized, but maybe your mind is playing tricks on you again. Blood loss is making you disoriented.

“Hey, Y/N, glad you’re back.” They say with a smile that seems to warp into something wicked. “Got something for ya, gonna make you feel real good.” He says, already reaching for you.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch m—“ you thrust your arm out to fend him off, but he jabs a huge needle into the crook of your elbow and you cry out as it pinches. “No,” you croak, already feeling weaker. Your knees no longer support you and you slump, falling right into their open arms.

“Get a table.” He barks over your head and you try to struggle. “Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay. You’re home now.” He promises, scooping you up and setting you gently on a flat surface. Foggy memories try to claw through the sedative, trying to warn you.

You try to roll off the table, you need to escape, you need to make sure Poe is safe. This is all your fault.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy, Y/N.” He says, catching your wrists and securing them to the table. You try to scream, looking around frantically. Faces are blurry, dissolving as the sedative claims you. You can hear Poe shouting your name as he tries to reach you. People are holding him back, stopping him from taking your hand.

“Give her another dose, she’s fighting it.” The man above you says. The last thing you see before everything goes dark is Poe, fighting to get to you.

***

The hike to their base is long. It takes about half a day for them to march you back there. Made worse by the fact that your arms are bound so tightly behind your back that you’re losing feeling.

Poe keeps looking at you to make sure you’re okay, but other than that, he won’t talk to you. You want to tell him you’re sorry for getting him caught, for kissing him and distracting him. And the way he won’t talk to you, the way he keeps cutting off your sentences tells you that he blames you, too.

The troopers are content to watch you trip and fall, laughing as they drag you to your feet again. Sometimes they’ll even purposely trip you just to watch you struggle.

One time in particular, if you had just fallen where their boot caught your ankle, you would have been fine. But you try to right yourself, stumbling forward awkwardly for a few steps before falling and bouncing your head off a rock. Your name manages to hiss through Poe’s clenched jaw, but other than that, nothing. You’re hauled unceremoniously to your feet and shoved forward, but you can feel blood trickling down your face.

They finally lead you into their base, sore and bruised, dragging you through the sterile halls until shoving you both into a room.

It’s a dark room, red lights dotting the walls sporadically. In the middle, two upright restraining tables facing each other.

Just like in your dream.

Chapter 6

Everything Tag List

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#poe fanfiction #poe x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron fic #poe dameron angst #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe x you #reader insert #reader fanfiction #y/n #star wars fluff #starwars #star wars angst #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #mermaidxatxheart writes

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studiobeebo · 3 years

Text

THAT’S OK DUDE! Honestly I prefer people be off anon because then that way I know if the requester liked their thing or not since anons rarely follow up 😅 but like I said I’ll do anything that catches my eye and I love me some Teenage Gojō Being A Pest so I hope you enjoy!!

♡ Road Trips ♡

Satoru Gojō x Fem! Reader

as always if y’all enjoy this please remember that reblogs are greatly appreciated :D

“I am seriously starting to think that the only person you care about is your damn self.”

The shouted words were sharp enough to hurt his pride just a teeny bit, but the slamming of the passenger door actually made him wince as if you had just slapped him rather than just yelling in anger.

“Wow, nice job. And you thought this trip would be romantic.”

Gojō sneered and stuck his tongue out at his friend who was all-too-eager to mock him for his obvious dismissal of your annoyance, but how was he supposed to know you were actually upset with him? He had practically annoyed his way into being your boyfriend and his general personality was something you had become well acquainted with, and usually loved, but sometimes he was just too much to handle and this seemed to be one of those times, only he was noticing far later than he should have.

Gojō, Getō, Ieiri, and you had been planning this road trip for a good couple of months, but you were starting to regret it already. For the past hour or so, Gojō had been driving without the usage of his GPS or a map of any kind and you were sure at this point you were entirely lost. It was funny at first, it didn’t surprise you that his free spirit may want to go off the beaten path a bit, but as it got later into the evening your anxiety began to kick in as you saw fewer and fewer buildings. Still, even when you started nagging him that you were getting worried you wouldn’t make it to your hostel for the night or mentioning you didn’t want him to be driving without a map in the dark, he’d have some flippant excuse or shitty attempt at convincing you that he was fine. As much as you loved them, Getō and Ieirei weren’t much help since they had long since resigned themselves to the fact that Gojō did what he wanted, when he wanted, so after another half hour filled with bickering between you and Gojō, you practically demanded him to pull over at the nearest look out area, one that actually would have been quite nice if he hadn’t been so damn irritating. To your surprise, he actually listened for once, so here you were a short walk away from the car, standing at the edge of the viewpoint staring out over the vast ocean that had just a sliver of sunlight left to bask it in a dimming light.

You let out a sigh as you wrapped your arms around your waist, quickly taking notice of how the temperature had dropped considering how high up you were, plus the lack of sunlight didn’t help either. You heard the other car doors slam shut one after the other, figuring everyone else needed a breather or maybe the others just wanted to check out the view before the sun set, but for now you just wanted a few minutes alone to cool off. Those ‘few minutes’ were short lived though as after a short amount of time, you felt a familiar pair of slim hands attempting to snake their way around your waist, an attempt of which you were quick to shove away and turn your head with a small huff of defiance, but Gojō was just as quick to try again. A few more attempts later and you finally gave in with another irritated sigh, though you still refused to speak or even look at him as he hugged you closer and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Still mad at me?”

The pointed glare you turned to give him was almost enough to make him raise his hands up in a defensive motion, but he was afraid that if he let go of you, you wouldn’t give him another shot at wiggling himself out of the doghouse.

“Ok, ok- stupid question.” He hummed, tapping his fingers against your hips in thought.

He had never been very good at the whole ‘apologizing’ thing, but that was mostly because he never really felt the need to apologize. He was quite the nuisance to a long list of people, pretty much all of which he couldn’t give two fucks about whether they liked him or not, so why apologize for his antics if he didn’t care to be forgiven? With you, however, that was a different story. It made his stomach twist in an uncomfortable way whenever he saw you look at him with something other than a smile, let alone an angry scowl, and nothing got him to drop his pride quicker than that. Still, as much as he wanted to be able to make things better instantly, or just not make those sorts of mistakes in the first place, he was still learning how to navigate expressing his feelings in a way that didn’t come off as fake, because everything he felt for you was as genuine as possibly could be.

“I pulled up the map, we aren’t too far off, I swear it.~ I’ll even let you nap in my jacket until we get there, if ya want.” He spoke, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone to show you the route as if he knew you wouldn’t take his word for it.

You glanced at the phone screen that lit up your face now that the sun had set, and while it did fill you with some relief to see the hour and a half ETA, that didn’t change the fact that he had taken it upon himself to completely ignore your previous discomfort up until now and judging by his lack of apology he didn’t seem to think he needed to give one, but before you had the chance to open up your mouth to give him a piece of your mind, he beat you to the punch as he squeezed you closer.

“...And I’m sorry- seriously. I should’ve listened to what you were saying. AND it won’t happen again.” He spoke, lifting his head up a bit so he could look you in the eyes over the rim of his glasses.

You couldn’t tell if using those pretty puppy-dog eyes of his was part of his apology schtick or not, but after a moment of mentally debating yourself you let out a sigh as you relaxed into his touch.

“Did you practice that in the car?”

“I’m too perfect to need practice, babe.~” He responded with that characteristic smugness before pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then to the curve of your neck, peppering kisses upwards across your skin before finally meeting your lips.

After a moment he pulled away, slowly releasing his grip on you and giving you some room. He turned with a satisfied smile to head back to the car, but was halted by your foot catching the back of his heel causing him to damn near face plant into the ground as he stumbled before turning to give you a perfect ‘what gives?’ look that you would have photographed if you could.

“I do want that jacket though.” You stated matter-of-factly with one hand on your hip and the other held out expectantly. “Oh- and the keys, too.”

“Huh?” He questioned, ignoring the snickers that came from not too far behind where the two of you stood.

“I’d give her the keys before you end up single by the end of this trip.” Ieiri yelled as she and Getō shuffled into the back of the car in a fit of laughter at his expense.

He groaned and made a face before shrugging off his jacket and then digging the keys out from his pocket, handing both over to you with only a hint of hesitation.

Had it been anyone else, he would have been annoyed with the power shift, but seeing you practically skip back to the car was more than enough to make him crack a smile as he trailed after you, counting his lucky stars that at least this time his title of ‘boyfriend’ had been safely secured.

#summer dreams #bee writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojō #gojō satoru #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

choices

PAIRING. kim taehyung x reader

GENRE. assassin!au, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of a gun,

WORDS. 1.2k

NOTE. an old wip that never really got developed from here :( but I enjoyed this small part so !!! here it is :D mayhaps I'll develop it but !!!! no promises

“So this is it, huh?” Taehyung asks, a little breathless but so were you.

Though, you recognise the glint in his eyes. The one that never quite dies but burns brighter every time you look.

“Anything we did would’ve brought us here anyway,” you tell him. “This is our duty.”

Taehyung chuckles, and he looks far too nonchalant for someone on top of a three hundred foot tall building, nearly dangling off the edge.

There is fire, and it’s searing. The heat scaths you and the inferno in your chest is nothing in comparison to the everlasting flames that blind your rationale. Everything in you is telling you to pull the trigger—to do your duty and forget what you know. What you feel.

“Ah.” Taehyung looks away just so you could catch his side profile. “And what a duty it is.”

You purse your lips, the metal feeling heavy in your grip. A gun has never felt heavier. It’s never been a weapon of regret until now.

Just do it.

“I don’t have a choice, Taehyung,” you whisper.

And after all this time, you still find yourself needing to justify your actions to him.

Taehyung smirks.

“We always have a choice.”

No, you didn’t. Because your choice was either your life or his. And you weren’t ready to go, not yet. Not when you had a life to live and the world to see. Maybe it was greed and selfishness, but you were sure Taehyung would do the same.

Right?

“Can you look away?” You ask him, and it’s weird because it’s his life that was at risk and not so much yours.

Taehyung, as usual, doesn’t listen to you. Instead, he smiles at you with a grin you’ve grown familiar with and draws closer. Each step he takes makes your finger shake—the digit so close to granting you emancipation.

You don’t breathe, not until he’s right in front of you—barring his head to the side—both to look away and for a target.

You gulp, eyes blinking at the smile that still remains etched on his face.

“Do it then.”

It’s a challenge.

But it’s not the same. Not when you know that at any other moment, you would’ve pulled the trigger without thinking twice, allowing your victims' blood to pool at your feet while you cleaned the soles of your shoes.

It’s a challenge you never thought you would meet.

Still, you take a deep breath and bring your gun to his head.

His hair was so soft, and it ruffled against the harsh wind of the rooftop you were on. Even the circumstances it took to get him up there hurt. A promise of a forever that ended with him.

Your hand shakes so much but you put on a brave face. You haven’t failed once and you wouldn’t need to fail now.

But Taehyung wasn’t one of your usual victims.

They were vile, disgusting and scum on Earth. You had absolutely no remorse for pulling the trigger or suffocating them to death. They deserved it for the sins they’ve committed.

Taehyung was … evil. But were not all humans capable of being evil? You were flawed, a pathetic excuse of a human being that sought to seek justice by removing the moles that polluted this Earth. You picked and chose who was worthy; with your gun as your toy and humans as your targets.

So why was it then he had to go and you stayed?

But his evil was interpreted as necessary and just—at least to you. Or at least when you tried enough to understand your victims then pull the trigger.

It was a naive choice on your part, and you suppose Taehyung was right. You always had a choice. And this time you had a price to pay at the expense of your shattered heart.

“Why won’t you kill me, _____?” Taehyung whispers, but his smile is wide—as if he has all the time in the world.

You suppose that the brink of death showed people how finite time is.

“I will,” you snap.

Taehyung laughs, carefree and unbothered. He withdraws his head, turning to look at you against your wish. And he looks the same as the first time your client hired you with a target on Taehyung’s head. The same boxy smile that didn’t belong to a man who’s killed hundreds.

But then, you were a killer too.

“Why drag it out further?” Taehyung hums. “You say you don’t have a choice but you’re not shooting.” His face is familiar and you hate that it is. That you’ve grown to understand the man was promised death from the moment you allowed his name to roll off your tongue. “Your choice is not shooting.”

He leans in, face close to yours when you blink at his vicinity. He’s warm in the Autumn night, his beige tones matched the season but nothing like the dull grey of the intent that laid in your hands.

“I said I need a moment.” You repeat, weaker.

“Or maybe you need me,” Taehyung grins.

Your eyes widen.

“You’re fooling yourself.”

“Then prove it,” he tells you. “Shoot me and it’ll all be over.”

But you don’t shoot. You stare at him as if it was your last chance at memorising his face to remember how he looks and feels right in front of you. But a part of you says it’s unnecessary because people leave yet feelings stay; though you don’t look away.

You shakily bring up your gun, placing it right at his temple when his eyes continue to bore into yours. And you’ve never felt despondency this early on to your kills. In fact, you rarely ever felt it. But Kim Taehyung brought out parts of you that you shielded away long enough for you to forget how to hurt.

Taehyung still pins you with his intense gaze, and you don’t want to appear weak in front of him when he’s so close. But you can’t bring yourself to pull the trigger—not when his face is inches away from yours and you were sure that you’d feel the blood splatter.

“Say something,” he challenges.

“I’m going to kill you,” you tell him, soft and nothing unlike the fire you had when you’ve killed hundreds of people like him.

Your finger rests upon the silver, ready to pull when you close your eyes. You take a deep breath and pretend that tears aren’t threatening to fall, that your knees are seconds away from giving out and that Taehyung was a breadth gone from disappearing forever.

“Are you?”

“Yes, goddamnit,” you hiss, eyes fluttering shut. But even the world goes dark for a moment—Taehyung is all you can see. You feel him, too. The warmth from his skin radiates against your palm. Even now, when you knew he could turn the stakes so that they were against you; you weren’t afraid.

Because deep down, you knew that Taehyung wouldn’t kill you.

“Then why aren’t you pulling the trigger?” He poses you with a question you can’t answer yourself.

Why couldn’t you?

You’ve pulled a trigger more times in your life than you could remember. But this almost feels like the first, the trepidation that lingers deep in your bones only makes your finger feel heavier. You wish it’d do the job for you—rather it be an act of familiarity rather than conscience, but you knew that it wasn’t your body who killed. It was you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sneer at him but it’s anything but hostile. It’s desperate, it’s a plea for help that’s as helpless as you are in the same moment.

“You don't want to kill me,” Taehyung states.

You hate that he reads you.

But you don’t have a choice.

"It's not me that wants to kill you," you say softly.

"But it's you who will," he says with a tilt of his lips.

“Goodbye, Taehyung.”

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #bts x reader #kim taehyung angst #kim taehyung scenario #kim taehyung fic #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung au #assassin au

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hyper-super-clover · 3 years

Note

for your summer set wh... what about levi being jealous about mc helping luke make a sand castle :]? maybe if its too vague maybe like an apology walk to help levi find some rocks or plants to add to henrys aquarium as an excuse for hand holding :D?

the ones youve made so far are super cute (´-﹏-`) also!!!!!!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

I'm always down to write about Levi so I loved this idea! I hope I didn't take too long to write your request, I'm way too slow with these requests ^^' Either way I hope you'll like the result!

Requests for my summer event are still open! Find the rules here and the Masterlist here~!

The backstab that is jealousy

Leviathan was standing in the room that he was sharing with Mammon during the beach trip that his family forced him to come along to. Actually, not only his brothers went up to the human world with him, but also the demon prince, his loyal butler, as well as all the exchange students.

Meaning: there were lots of people eager to have the best time ever, outside, in the burning sun, with loud, obnoxious and Normies all over the place -- you cannot imagine how terrible that sounded for a shut-in otaku like Levi!

The avatar of Envy kept staring at his reflection in the mirror. Mammon had successfully pressured him into getting changed into his swimsuit, but had then left his brother as Beel had invited him to a game of beach volleyball. So, all alone now, Levi mustered himself. He felt his self-hatred crawl up his consciousness slowly, not able to prevent it from invading his thoughts.

It was almost ironic how he brushed over his toned, nice body, yet wished to throw himself into the next trash can the longer he kept looking at himself.

Leviathan knew that MC was waiting for him at the beach. They had asked him over and over to do something fun once they arrive in the human world. They even promised to not dump him for one of his brothers! Still, it took Levi awfully long until he actually stepped outside.

Walking down to the beach, Levi tried to suppress the urge to teleport back to the Devildom by thinking about MC. He had fallen for them big time, so even if it meant being outside doing Normie stuff, Levi would still agree to it if it meant being close to his Henry.

If it's with them, all those icky outside activities seemed somehow survivable... They could build Ruri-chan out of sand, or he'd show them his swimming skills! Being the cute little sea monster he is, he naturally was the best swimmer in his family, and he was SO ready to take advantage of it to flex in front of MC.

Somewhere at the point where Levi daydreamed about sharing a drink with MC using those twirly straws, he found himself smiling from ear to ear.

So yeah, he was fine with doing this Normie stuff for once... Feeling his heart beating fast, he had to admit it was more than fine, actually.

Levi picked up his pace unconsciously as he stepped onto the beach. Like a child, his excitement of spending time with his Henry, just the two of them, made him shout out their name the second he saw them--

Levi stopped on the spot.

He saw MC... But with Luke? Playing in the sand?

The two obviously had heard Leviathan's overexcited exclaim, so they turned their heads towards him, revealing the big smiles on their faces.

You were replaced.

The avatar of Envy flinched as the thought invaded his mind. His expression fell as MC's giggles rang in his ears.

They lied to you.

"Levi, there you are!" MC stumbled to stand up after sitting in the sand, but Levi was already turning around.

"I see you're busy, so I won't bother you" the demon hissed.

He was met with a confused sound.

"Well, Luke invited me to build a sandcastle with him" MC explained. "Do you want to join us? We're almost don-"

"No, I don't want to be with a traitor like you right now."

MC was calling after him, but Levi kept stomping away to prevent his rising envy from saying anything he'd regret later.

-------

Levi had tried to distance himself from MC as fast as possible. He knew this feeling twisting his stomach would have caused him to have an outburst right then and there if he had stayed, so leaving had been the only option. Even after having found a friend, lover and safe place in MC, Levi still had troubles in dealing with his jealousy. It was difficult pushing those dark thoughts away, was difficult to calm down instead of flooding this whole pathetic beach with the ocean at his feet.

As he was hurrying along the shore, he decided to get into the water and do something to calm himself.

He did not expect MC to find him so quickly, though.

They had walked right into him as he was mumbling to himself, searching through the water.

"This one... No, too small... So maybe this... Nah... What about-"

"Levi?"

The demon's head shot up as he let out a squeal, quickly letting go of the countless rocks he had in his hands.

"MC!" His lips formed a pout immediately. "D-don't sneak up on me like that! Honestly..."

The human chuckled it off, not mentioning how they had literally stood in front of him for a moment before saying his name.

"What are you doing?" They went to carefully ask instead.

Looking at the rocks at his feet, he felt a little dumb explaining it. "I'm collecting stones to decorate Henry's aquarium with... I always bring him some when I'm at the beach, and feeling the water against my hands and feet calm me, s-so..." His voice got thinner at the end, and he finished his explanation with a sigh. "Wow, I sound like a total loser..."

MC crouched down to look at him. "Can I help you?" They asked to Levi's surprise.

"O-oh, uhm..."

"If you're not angry at me that is" MC added in a sad smile.

Slowly shaking his head, Levi stood up. "...Let's take a walk and look for some, then."

So they took a walk in this weird silence that was overall just pretty uncomfortable.

"Levi, I'm sorry" At some point MC broke through it, trying to lock eyes with him. "I did promise it would be just the two of us, so I apologize for not, well, holding my end of the deal."

Levi gave a sad shrug. "It's whatever... I probably asked for too much and you simply didn't want to-"

"Hey" MC barged in, stopping him by taking hold of his hand. "None of that, please. I wanted to spend the day with you, but you took forever to get out of your room, so I figured I'd play with Luke while waiting."

"... Oh, I see..." Levi mumbled, flustered by how tightly they were squeezing his hand.

"To be fair" MC continued. "I didn't think you'd get jealous of the angel child, of all people...!"

"Hnngh..." Levi breathed in an angry blush. "Come on, let's keep going..."

Pulling them with him Levi hurried forward, his embarrassed frown growing as he heard their resigned sigh.

"Your self-consciousness is really something else..." MC mumbled. "But don't worry, we'll work on that one together. And right now, I don't plan leaving your side, now that we're finally together."

So Levi turned to look at them.

"... Really?"

"Really" they assured. "If it helps you believe me... I won't let go of that hand of yours."

"H-huh?"

His eyes widened while his legs got weak at this smile they beamed him.

"Would you like that?"

"Y-yeah" the demon mumbled, running his thumb over the back of their hand gently. "I'd l-love that, actually..."

"Good" they cheered. "Then let's go and get some more souvenirs for Henry, shall we?"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #Leviathan #leviathan × mc #the idea that levi collects rocks for henry is ADORABLE #Clover's OM summer event #requests #gn!mc

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thedistantdusk · 3 years

Text

Arcadia, Chapter 4

Well! What could happen next to our star-crossed investigative pair? Yeah idk, man... somehow, this fic got a lot darker than I intended. Anyway! Thanks again to the same folks, without whom this story wouldn’t be possible. None of this story is safe for work, and this chapter is no exception ;)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

D A Y + F O U R

She’s not sure when she wakes up. Her eyes blink open in the bleary morning… that foggy gap between night and day. Blue-green light streams through the windows, coloring the bedroom like it’s underwater.

He’s the first thing she notices, all warm and curled beside her. Harry… her Harry. A sad smile graces her lips as it all comes flooding back. Mike. The tulpa. The shower. Harry…

But together, all of those things are uncomfortable. Bits of it were nice, but the whole thing makes her stomach churn. It’s much easier to—

She presses her bum against him, hoping that wakes him up. Hoping he takes the hint. Harry heaves a deep breath, but doesn’t acknowledge her. Ginny bites her lip and wiggles back. Again.

Finally, he responds. But not how she’d hoped.

“Let’s… not jump to starting that up again,” Harry murmurs into her ear, his voice graveled with sleep. “Ok?”

She whips around, brow furrowed. “So you’ve suddenly become unattracted to—?”

He barks out a humorless laugh and reaches for his glasses. “We both know that’ll never happen.” He takes her in, reclining on the tufted headboard; she can’t help but feel flattered by the red patches that bloom on his cheeks. “Erm…” He clears his throat. “Could you get a dressing gown, actually? I really want to have a serious conversation and…”

He’s never been able to concentrate while she’s naked, has he?

“Sure.” For some reason, her skin prickles as she rises to her feet to pad across the carpet. Exposed. She feels exposed, even though Harry’s probably seen her naked more times than she has. Because this time, it’s not so much that he’s seeing her body naked— it’s that he’s about to discuss things she’s tried very, very hard to deny.

Ginny emerges from the closet in a white dressing gown and gives Harry a little twirl. “Happy?”

His lips curl in a tired smile. “Not… exactly. But I’m hoping to change that.”

“Oh?” Ginny settles in the desk chair. She’s not keen on this conversation, but some part of her recognizes it’s long overdue.

Harry begins by clearing his throat again. “So. Erm.” He places his fingers in a steeple and studies them. “As I… admitted last night, I’ve never stopped loving you. It’s been an awful, awful five years, but frankly it would’ve been worse if we’d stayed together, under those circumstances.”

She opens her mouth to object, but he raises a hand to forestall an interruption.

“Let… let me finish. Because after Percy died...” He shoots her a significant look. “You changed. Ok?”

“That’s not exactly fair,” she snaps, peering at her painted toenails. “Of fucking course I changed. If I didn’t change, I’d be a bloody sociopath. Is that who you wanted to shag?”

Harry heaves a deep sigh. “No. And I’m not going to let you get away with twisting things… again. Ok? Please, just let me finish.”

She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. For fuck’s sake, why does she already want to cry?

“You changed,” Harry continues, “and I really don’t blame you for it, but you refused to talk about Percy, or that night, or- or honestly, even anything remotely sad! Ever!” He pauses to collect his thoughts; guilt stabs at Ginny’s stomach. She wasn’t aware this frustrated him quite so much…

“You threw yourself into schoolwork,” he adds, blinking at the far wall. “You lost interest in things you loved. We still had sex, but it was…” He winces. “Unattached. It was… it was like it didn’t even need to be me there, in particular.” His eyes flit back to hers. “I tried to talk to you about it loads of times, but then when you joined the Unspeakables, you just used that as an excuse.”

Traitorous tears drip down her cheeks. She brushes them away to defend herself. “I was already interested in joining up before that,” Ginny insists, her voice warbling. “You weren’t there that year, Harry. You didn’t see what it was like at Hogwarts. The Unspeakables were putting out all this… this rubbish misinformation about you and about muggleborns, and—”

“—All of that is well and good,” Harry interrupts, “but the fact is that you became a different person after Percy died, and after nearly a year of living with that, I’d had enough.” He shrugs. “And even five years later, you’ve never sought help, as far as I know. Professional help, from someone who knows what they’re talking about. Not the type of help you find at the bottom of a pint.”

He’s right, of course. It’s like a stinging slap in the face, but he’s bloody right.

“So!” Harry clears his throat again. “As much as I… enjoyed last night, that can’t happen again if we don’t fix what split us up before. You’re still convinced you killed Percy. Until you’re not? This”— he gestures between them— “can’t work. Full stop.”

Ginny swallows and stares into her lap. “I’m not responsible for my brother’s death,” she whispers, emotionless. It’s a mantra, an oath, one she’s so accustomed to repeating that it’s turned foreign and unfamiliar on her tongue.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Harry says, spreading his palms. “The whole bloody world is aware, Jenny.” He sucks his teeth. “But you aren’t.”

There’s a pause. Ginny bites her lip, tempted to launch the spring-loaded denial she’s learned through years of counseling. But this time, it doesn’t come.

Because Harry knows better.

Shit.

That fact settles in the pit of her stomach; what are the chances, really, that she found herself trapped and playing house with the only person on earth who knows better.

“I was the last to see him,” she mutters, eyes downcast. “I told him he’d never replace Fred. I was drunk. Stupid. Stupidly drunk.” She grips her head in her hands, but the words don’t stop. They’re shooting from her, spurred by years of grief and regret and bursting forth like a steam engine.

“My stupid fucking temper,” she continues, every syllable dripping with self-loathing. “Ruining everything. And then he goes and—” She makes a flailing gesture. “Offs himself. Right on my mother’s fucking birthday! The day before your parents—”

“I know,” Harry whispers, his voice pleading. “Ginny, I know. But please, love, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault.”

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. It’s too much to say it aloud, to admit it, to let the waves of regret wash over her. There’s a scuttling of movement as she blinks ahead, gaping like a fish out of water. She’s not even surprised to feel Harry wrapping his arms around her and bringing her back to the bed. To feel his lips pressing to her temple as her body wracks with sobs. And she can’t do anything but lean into him. She can’t do anything but surrender, completely. To indulge in feeling raw and vulnerable and alive.

She doesn’t know how long it takes to come to. It’s not until she’s clinging to his chest that she draws a deep breath.

“You never told me any of this,” Harry says softly, mournfully, his hand playing with her hair. He loves her hair. He’s always loved her hair. With a final sob, she admits— if only to herself— that she misses letting him love it. She misses how he’d bury his face in the crook of her neck. How he’d inhale deeply, right at the crown of her head, and blink down at her with a dreamy smile.

She misses him.

Fuck. She misses him. And not just shagging him… but the whole bit. The late-night snacks and discussions on quidditch plays and heated debates about the best brand of toilet roll.

“What… what if I agree to work on it?” she finally whispers, eyelashes thick with half-dried tears.

Harry sighs; his hands still haven’t left her hair. “If we both agree to work on it… because trust me, I’m not doing fantastic either.” He lets out a chuckle. “Do you know how weird that was, being the stable one for once? Anyway.” He waves this off and continues. “If we both work on it, with proper mind-healers…” He swallows. “I don’t see why we couldn't be physical. Eventually.”

She pulls back to give him a watery grin. “I love you,” she murmurs. For the first time in years, her chest feels full. Her heart warm. Like there’s a chance at something in the future that doesn’t involve work and sadness and takeaways.

But speaking of work.

“I’d erm. Like to keep things with us private,” she says, playing with a piece of lint on the duvet. “Especially from work. And my family. Because…”

The thought of Attica’s face, pinched in disappointment, is nearly enough to replace the progress they’ve made over the past day.

“No,” Harry agrees quickly. “That’s. Yeah. Especially from Ron.” He shudders. “Can you imagine how well that would go over?”

“Huh! That’s ridiculous, Harry.” She bats her eyes at him, her expression the picture of innocence. “You mean you don’t want my brother to know that you went down on me and promptly spunked your—”

He cuts her off with a laugh, tossing a pillow on her face. She pulls it off with a giggle before settling beside him.

“Didn’t think you noticed that,” he admits, trailing a finger down the side of her face. “I really hoped you were asleep.”

She stifles a yawn. “Mmm. Don’t have to be Hermione to put that one together. Clue one: you were down there, which you’ve always… enjoyed.” She sleepily raises her eyebrows. “Clue two, I’ve seen you do that before — more than once— and you always have this weird… sort of duck-walk to take your trousers off.”

Harry groans, his entire face the color of her hair. “Please, please, don’t stop on account of me.” He somehow manages a sarcastic drawl as he removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table. “Let’s continue to detail all the times I’ve finished too quickly.”

“Not just too quickly,” she corrects, kissing him on the nose. “I’m only talking about coming in your trousers, which you’ve also managed to do several ti—”

Harry snorts. “And how many times have you done it, then?” His green eyes dance with mischief. “Also more than once. As memory serves, our time at Hogwarts got a lot more interesting once you discovered the combination of my thigh and snogging. You just don’t have the equipment to make things particularly messy when—”

“Clue three!” she loudly calls over him. He has the grace to laugh as she turns so they're spooning, her bum pressed against his crotch.

“I… said I loved you,” she finishes, interlacing their fingers. “And that’s always… you know.”

Harry shudders; there’s a sudden rise of fabric against her bum. “Ok, speaking of embarrassing,” he admits, adjusting himself. “You’re actually going to have to erm. Stop saying that? For now? Because…”

“Trust me, Auror Potter,” she murmurs, dropping her voice to her best impression of Kingsley. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Unfair,” he complains, toying with a piece of her hair. “As you can see, I’m a bit of a mess. It still turns me on when you say you love me.”

“Yeah, well, it still turns me on when you breathe,” she mutters, her eyes growing heavy. “Reckon we can just be messes together.”

Harry chuckles before burying his face into her hair. “I’ll always be your mess. Jenny.”

#harry x ginny #harry and ginny #harry potter fanfic #au fanfiction #arcadia chapter 4

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css1992 · 3 years

Text

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

What the fuck was he thinking?

That was the first thought in Peter’s mind when he opened his eyes the next morning and remembered what he had done the night before. Agreeing to meet with a subscriber, really, how dumb was that? It was one of those things he did before bed when his brain was too slow to make good decisions and then the next morning there were consequences. Consequences. Peter couldn’t deal with fucking consequences, he was still struggling with the fallout of his other terrible life choices.

I should cancel, he thought, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to wake himself up.

He should definitely cancel. Right. It was only reasonable. He could tell Tony he slept on it and realized it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Or he could just say he was sick – for the foreseeable future. Or something. He would figure it out as he typed.

He sighed heavily and reached for his phone on the nightstand, pulling up his chat with Tony. He was going to call the whole thing off – he was! – but he made one crucial mistake. Before he started typing an excuse, he re-read the conversation from the night before. He didn’t understand why or how, but Tony’s words just – inebriated him, and by re-reading them, he was put under his spell all over again.

I need to see you, he said.

Not want. Not would like. Need. The word choice wasn’t lost on Peter, but he wondered if he was reading too much into it, if maybe Tony just said the first thing that came to mind without giving it much thought. But it couldn’t be casual, could it? Nobody would say they needed something casually.

Right?

He pictured the older man holding him close, whispering in his ear, “I need to see you”, until, somehow, in his imagination, words got lost somewhere and it became, “I need you”. Peter shivered just thinking about it. He was sure his voice would exude power and confidence, he just knew it, he wouldn’t be able to resist Tony’s commands, and yet–

Please.

He asked nicely. Peter was hyper-aware of the fact that the word “please” had an unreasonable and slightly concerning effect on him, he should probably talk to someone about that, but it just did. It fucking did. Tony could have demanded whatever he wanted – and embarrassingly, Peter would have probably said yes. He could have been an asshole about it, pushy, like some other people were, but no. He was…

I’ll treat you right.

Peter never stood a chance, he realized, sighing, letting his phone fall off his hand and onto the bed. That man knew exactly what he was doing, didn’t he? Peter wondered if he was that transparent, if anyone who talked to him for more than five minutes could see how needy he was, how badly he craved affection. If so, how embarrassing was that? A touch-starved porn star with feelings?

Ex-porn star, his brain supplied, and Peter rolled his eyes at himself. But still, technically, he was not a porn star anymore, he was more like… A model. A social media influencer? An adult entertainer. He could settle for that.

He picked his phone back up and looked at the chat, re-reading their conversation from the night before, over and over again. At least it didn’t seem like he thought Peter was a hooker – well, he hadn’t offered money, so Peter assumed he meant it as a casual meeting, not a business transaction. Nothing else has to happen, he promised. Nobody would ask a hooker out not expecting anything else to happen.

Right?

While he freaked out wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into, his phone beeped and vibrated in his hand, as he got a notification saying he had a text from an unknown number. He frowned, because not a lot of people had his number, but when he opened the text message, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“Hey, babe, it’s Quent. I saw you unblocked me on Instagram. Can we talk?”

He felt immediately dizzy, his vision blurred and his hands shook. His only reaction was to throw the phone as far away from him as he could, as if it was on fire. His throat closed up and breathing became harder, he thought he might suffocate, as he sat up on the bed and tried to take deep breaths. Deep breaths. Tried not to get lost in his –

“I can’t do this anymore, Pete,” was the first thing he said the minute the younger man walked out of the en suite bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

“Do what?” He asked, confused, tilting his head to the side. He watched as Beck slowly got out of bed and walked to him. Peter noticed he wasn’t naked anymore, he had put on some pants and a t-shirt. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation.

“This. Us.” He gestured between them and Peter stared at him for a few seconds, as the words flew around in his head, refusing to provide any meaning. After a couple of minutes, he laughed weakly, even though his eyes burned and his chest felt crushed. Beck’s expression remained impassive.

“You’re joking, right?” Even as he asked that, he knew in his heart that he wasn’t. His face fell when Beck simply shook his head. “Quent… What...” He didn’t even know what to say, what to ask. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, trying to stop his eyes from watering, Beck hated it when he cried for no reason. “Listen, let’s just – let’s just talk about this, I’m sure–“

“There’s nothing to talk about, Peter, I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry.” He took the two steps that separated them and ran a hand down the younger man’s wet cheek and Peter grasped it desperately, as if it could make him stay. “You’re immature, needy and quite frankly… a little boring for someone who gets fucked for a living.”

“I can do better, Quent, I can change, please don’t – don’t leave me,” he begged quietly, voice cracking, barely audible over the sound of his own sobs. Beck winced, pulling his hand away.“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please… Please, don’t leave me...” He shut his eyes tightly, trying to wake up from that nightmare. Just a few minutes earlier, everything was fine, they filmed a scene, Beck told him to get in the shower and the minute he walked back into the bedroom everything went to shit, how the fuck did that happen?

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Peter. Look at you, listen to yourself right now. It’s… Pathetic.” He looked at him like he was the saddest sight he had ever seen, a mixture of pity and disgust, annoyance and impatience. Peter remembered a time when he looked at him like he was precious, like he was the most important person in the world… What went wrong? Where did he fuck up? How could he fix it?

“Quent, I-I – you’re all I–“

“That’s the problem, Pete,” he scoffed, shaking his head with an incredulous smile on his face. “I’m tired of being your everything, it’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.” He leaned against the wall next to the bedroom’s door, as Peter freaked out just a few feet away, thinking he was having an actual heart attack from how bad hearing that fucking hurt. “I don’t love you anymore.”

He was pulled from his memories when the doorbell rang and his heart jumped. Could it be him at the door? He couldn’t have found him, he had no idea where Ned and MJ lived – hell, he had no idea where Peter went, he didn’t even bother to ask. For all he knew, Peter could be living on the streets. He knew he had no money, no family, and he didn’t fucking care, he just fucking kicked him out, he barely gave him time to pack all of his things, his eyes were cold, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for Peter to leave. And he begged and kept begging, and–

Fuck, he was losing it. He was going back to that dark place he had barely crawled out from just weeks earlier.

He took a deep, calming breath and shook his head, trying to get his emotions under control. It was not Beck at the door. He had no way of finding him, and Peter knew he wouldn’t even try to. The only reason he had to contact him was probably a job. He knew a lot of people in the porn industry would still try to book him through Beck, since he was his agent for so long. That was obviously the reason he was trying to reach out. Money. As always. That was all.

So he took another deep breath and walked slowly to the front door. When he checked the peephole, Ned and MJ were casually standing outside, talking to each other like nothing was wrong in the world. He didn’t think twice and yanked the door open.

“Get dressed, loser, we’re going– what the fuck!?” MJ’s eyes almost jumped out of their sockets once she took a look at him. He knew he must look like garbage, he had no idea how he was even standing on his own two feet, he felt like his whole body was falling to pieces. He threw his arms around Ned, who was closest to him, and the older boy just pulled him close and let him bury his face in his neck, not missing a beat.

“Shh, it’s ok, buddy. Everything’s fine now.” He rubbed his back gently and Peter cried a little harder, a mixture of relief, sadness and regret filling his chest, leaving him confused and exhausted all at once. “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute. MJ, bring him some water, will you?” He pushed him lightly inside the apartment and directed him to the only piece of furniture in the living room, crouching down in front of him as MJ rummaged his tiny kitchen. “You ok, man?”

“I’m ok, I’m ok. It’s just… one of those days.” He forced a smile, trying to dry his face with the collar of his shirt. He didn’t want to tell them that Beck had tried to reach out, it would only cause them to worry unnecessarily. They were the ones who had convinced him to block his number, even if Peter insisted Beck would never call.

MJ hurried back from the kitchen and thrust a glass of water in his face, seeming a little nervous and completely out of her element. He realized that it was probably the first time they ever saw him in such bad shape, he didn’t have the energy to try to put up a strong front for them, which he always did, ever since he was a ten-year old boy. They had seen him cry before, of course, just probably not like that. Peter felt like shit and he knew he looked like it, too.

He drank the water that was offered to him just to have an excuse not to talk for a few seconds, as he tried to cool down and get himself back under control. MJ was fidgeting, standing beside Ned who was sitting on the floor, rubbing Peter’s knees comfortingly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ned asked, squeezing his leg, and he shook his head firmly.

“No, thanks. I’m fine, really. Did you have plans for today?” He looked at his friends and noticed they both had their jackets on and looked ready to go out. It was, after all, a sunny Saturday morning. “I’ll go get dressed right now.” He tried to get up from the armchair but MJ placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, we can stay in, if you want.” She assured him, still looking a little freaked out, which was funny to watch. She was never very good at comforting people.

“No, that’s stupid, come on,” He got up, forcing Ned to do the same, and headed to the bedroom, but the older boy grabbed his arm before he could go too far.

“Don’t worry, c’mon, let’s go down to our apartment, at least we have a couch.”

Peter wanted to insist that he was okay to go out, but if he was honest with himself, he was... not okay. To do anything. And he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

So he just nodded at his friends and followed them downstairs. Back at their place, he plopped down on the couch with MJ next to him, as Ned headed for the kitchen. He came back with ice cream and three spoons and Peter smiled weakly, appreciating the gesture.

“So… Bad day?” Ned asked sympathetically as Peter pretended to focus on the frozen desert.

“Bad day,” he answered, simply, with a small smile on his face, and his friend nodded in understanding.

“Did something happen or…?” He insisted and Peter stuffed his mouth with enough ice-cream to give himself a brain freeze, just so he could avoid talking for a while. He shrugged.

“No, just… Memories.”

“Of course,” MJ scoffed, as she stabbed the ice-cream with her spoon. “That asshole. I can’t believe he gets to be your first love. That fucking sucks.” Peter was sure MJ didn’t mean to make him feel bad – or rather, worse – but he hadn’t even thought about that yet. The fact that Beck was his first love. His first everything, really. Nothing could ever change that fact. He swallowed the lump in his throat with a spoonful of chocolate chip ice-cream. “Don’t worry, one day you’ll find a decent man who will show you what a healthy relationship looks like, you know. That perv deprived you of even that.” MJ shook her head and Peter sighed, wincing.

“I don’t think I can find a decent man, MJ,” he mumbled, looking down at the ice-cream pint. “I’m a certified whore now. Imagine Prince Charming googling my name and finding my gang bang video, or the fisting one.” He scoffed, shaking his head. He didn’t dare to look up at his friends, he played with the melting ice-cream and shrugged. “I’m sorry for the mental image.” His face was burning red, he hated to talk about his videos with them, but they needed a reality check. He was pretty sure they never watched the videos, so they had no idea how bad the situation was.

“Good thing you’re not looking for Prince Charming, then, Cinderella.” She rolled her eyes. “You need a man who understands that sex is just sex, it doesn’t matter how many people you slept with, or if it was filmed or not. Besides, it was just a fucking job, like any other, people use their bodies to work. Writers use their hands, waiters use their legs, you used your ass, so-fucking-what?” MJ argued and she genuinely seemed to believe her own words, which made Peter laugh a little and feel relieved that his friend didn’t think badly of him. That made one of them.

The thing was, it was a beautiful speech, big words, great ideas, but none of it meant anything because it wasn’t real. He believed MJ thought like that, but most people didn’t. Most people would look at him differently knowing he used to do porn and knowing that he still did solo stuff on Just4Fans. They would think it was fine to fantasize about him, it was fine to jerk off to him, maybe it would even be fine to have sex with him casually, but have a serious relationship with him? Probably not.

He must have been distracted for a while and jumped up a little when he felt Ned’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dude. Not everyone is that narrow-minded, you know. At the end of the day, it’s just porn. A lot of people do it, even more people watch it, it’s not that big of a deal.” Ned shrugged and Peter looked at him a little surprised. He didn’t look freaked out at all by what he said earlier, which – he didn’t think he would be rude or anything, he just didn’t expect him to be so cool about it.

He smiled at him and nodded.

Peter spent the rest of the day at their place and gradually started feeling a little more like himself, a little calmer. His head hurt from such a rough morning, but having his friends by his side helped a lot. They had pizza for lunch and binge watched a sitcom for seven hours straight, which helped keep all the intrusive thoughts at bay. Well, mostly.

When he got home that night, he picked up his phone that was still lying on the floor. The screen was cracked, but at least it was still working. He quickly blocked Beck’s Instagram and his new number before he could think twice about it, and only then did he notice there was a message from Tony waiting for him, from a few hours earlier.

“Hey, gorgeous. How’s your day? I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Can’t wait to see you.”

For some weird reason, reading that message soothed him. It should have freaked him out, sent him over the edge again, but it didn’t. He had forgotten all about the fact that he agreed to meet Tony, but he was glad he did. He felt exhausted from all the emotions he had to deal with all day long and he thought he didn’t want to do anything but sleep it off, but talking to Tony sounded like an even better idea somehow.

“Not so good, I’m a little tired, but I’ll survive. How was yours, daddy?”

He wasn’t surprised when he got an answer right away.

“I’m sorry to hear that, kitten. I’d give you a foot rub if I was there, would that help?” Peter couldn’t help but smile at that message, which was a little shocking to him, he thought he had lost the ability to do that hours ago.

“That would help a lot, daddy.” He sighed, rolling onto his side, burying himself under the covers. “I wish you were here.” He didn’t expect to mean it so much, not when he was talking to a virtual stranger, but Tony had such a weird effect on him when they talked. Peter felt like he knew him, like they were intimate, like he was safe. And none of that made any sense, but he couldn’t help it.

“I wish I were there, too. I’d take good care of you.” Fuck, and he kept saying those things. Those beautiful things that made his stomach turn and his head hurt and his heart go wild. He was so fucked. “Dinner’s still up? Does Thursday night work for you?”

“Thursday works fine. I’m just a little nervous.” He curled on his side, looking closely at the cracked screen. Immediately, Tony started typing an answer.

“Please don’t be, sweetheart, I promise you’ll have a good time. We’ll have a nice meal, some fine wine, a good talk. What’s not to like?” That was exactly what Peter thought the previous night, and it had made perfect sense in his head. When he woke up, though, it didn’t sound reasonable at all. And now there he was, hypnotized again by Tony’s charm.

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say or if it would be weird.

“Then, please, don’t worry. You can leave at any second if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“Okay.” He replied, worrying his bottom lip, working up the nerve to say what was on his mind. “Look, you know I’m not, like… a prostitute, right? Nor an escort. I just post dirty pictures online, which might be misleading, but I’m not a sex worker. I hope you know that.” There, he said it. He held his breath as he waited for Tony’s answer, who kept typing for what felt like ages.

“To be completely honest, no, I was not sure, and I didn’t want to offend you by asking, but this changes nothing. I didn’t ask to meet you for that, I hope you know. I just really need to see you in person. I like talking to you here, but I’d love to hear your voice, see your smile, make you laugh. I promise I have no ulterior motives.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Peter joked lightly, because it seemed like Tony always knew what to say to wrap him around his little finger.

“I am, baby, I promise. You’ll see.”

He was pretty sure he had heard similar promises before, beautiful words without any meaning. Still, for some reason, it wasn’t hard to believe him.

-x-

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#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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