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idesofrevolution · 5 months

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Precursor

"Jesus, Danny I don't know what the fuck to do about it, okay? He just fuckin' got me out of no where." Click, clack. Click, clack. The tapping of his fingers on the mouse and keyboard were the only sounds echoing in the dark room aside from his shouts. "Well, I how the fuck should I know? I told you I wasn't good at this game! You're the one who kept begging me to play it, and it's bullshit dude!" For a game that was supposed to be this fun phenomenon, 'Precursor' was proving to be quite a bit lesser than Greg anticipated. Danny had begged him for weeks to join the game and do a couple of rounds with him, if only to get him hooked. For Greg, a video game was like Civilization or Cities Skylines... building something great with strategy and creativity. To him, this was a boring shoot 'em up that had a steep learning curve, and it was grating on his nerves. "Well, dude I told you I didn't know how to play this stupid game but you wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Another red screen and the words 'Exterminated' were sprawled across the screen. Greg slammed his fists down onto the desk, spilling his Red Bull all over his lap. He threw his head back in yet another defeat, his seventh in the span of an hour. Looking down at his phone, the late hour had all but caused him even further grief.

"You know what, dude? This game fucking sucks. I don't know why you wanted me to play with you." Danny, surely kicking ass on the battlefront from somewhere behind his screen in Oklahoma hundreds of miles away, was less than enthused. "Ya know what, fine. I will do the fucking noob lobby, okay? I swear to God, though, if this shit doesn't get fun in ten minutes I'm loggin' off." Greg disconnected from his online pal and reentered back into the main menu. He sighed, how the fuck could anyone without a trigger-happy index finger and a desire to think about their options for more than a split second find this game fun? To him, it was all reflexes and no brain power. Clicking through the main menu, he searched for the "Noob" lobby in the available servers. He scrolled for an agonizing ten seconds of full lobbies before he gave up.

"Man, fuck this." He was a single moment away from clicking that exit button before his elbow slipped on some of the Red Bull that had spilled onto the desktop. His wrist banged onto the keys, leaving a string of gibberish into the searchbar. He grabbed one of his clean socks from the floor and sopped up the syrupy water and tossed it behind him over his shoulder. Whatever. Turning back to his screen, to his utter astonishment, the search for 'pjdkluyoikms' had come up with a single hit: 3/9 players in the lobby. Greg looked down at his phone again, 3:30 in the morning grimaced back at him. He'd have to be up in 4 hours if he'd kept the job he quit a few days prior, but with unemployment looming over his head the hours didn't seem so important to him. The game was known for being a time void, sucking in every available minute it's players had to use.

"Fuck it." He clicked join, and waited as the lobby began to load. For a second, his monitor became severely pixelated, but quickly returned to normal. Before long, he was met with the game mode selection and a couple of voices chatting amongst the static. Bruiser, Scout, Sniper, Runner, Bomber... He didn't know how to use a single one of these characters and in the back of his mind, he wasn't keen on being embarrassed yet again for another hour of failures.

"Who's this?" One of the voices from the ether bellowed out from his headphones, and for whatever reason his skin flushed with goosebumps. "Yo, new guy, did you mean to come here? It's a private server."

"Ahh, shit. I'm sorry, my friend made me buy this game and I don't know what I'm doing. I'll find another, my bad!" Greg scampered to try and just choose a character so he could exit out of the menu, but a second voice gave him immediate pause. It was unlike the other players he'd met so far, in that he wasn't a complete dick right off the bat.

"Nahh, it's cool! We could use a runner this round if you're down? We can take it easy, right boys?" His voice was smooth, chill, if not a bit high pitched in a tenor timbre. The guy could have a career in anime protagonist voice acting if he'd put his mind to it, Greg was quickly put at ease with just a single word.

"You think he can keep up?" the third voice, husky and deep questioned.

"We've played with worse, bro. Remember Clive before Mick got to him? We lost four rounds before Mick got it to stick! He won't fuck up, will ya new guy?" Greg nervously chuckled, knowing full well he'd be terrible in the beginning either way.

"Uhhhh, give me a round or two to get the hang of it... I'm sure I can do it. Nothing better to do anyway."

"That's the spirit! See? He's gonna be great. I'll get him up to snuff." A fall of silence came over the server, Greg shifted in his seat. "Alright, newbie. Just choose runner and I got your back. I used to main runner, so I can show you the ropes." Taking a deep breath, Greg clicked on the avatar for Runner, and hit accept. He entered the lobby, seeing the three players had already chosen their avatars. 1: lostdestiny (scout), 2: EdgeRunner (bruiser), 3: ironclad (bomber), and now 4: Greg (runner).

ironclad: I take it you're Greg, then?

Greg: What gave it away?

The three others chuckled, and the loadbar began to fill. Greg could feel the anxiety and anticipation grow within him. He was about to faceplant AGAIN, and in front of these strangers. At least it wouldn't be long until he'd be kicked anyway.

EdgeRunner: Aight, listen up man. I can't be a babysitter, but I'll be following you. Just do what I tell you to do and you'll be fine. You got this, man. Yeah?

Greg: Uh, yeah man. I'll do my best.

lostdestiny: Don't worry guys, he's gonna do his best.

EdgeRunner: Pipe down, will ya, Des? Fuck. Alright, here we go. Lay low and let them come out on their own.

The four of them were dumped onto the map, this one seemed to be some dirty Cyberpunk city in the rain. Sooner rather than later, it'd be a warzone. Greg sat gobsmacked, frozen in place as the others ran for cover.

ironclad: Yo, get to cover, they'll be here any fuckin' second!

Greg: Whuh.... What do I do, where do I go?

EdgeRunner: Turn to your left, there's a hidden door in the bodega. Hold shift and run. Go!

Greg did as he was told, holding down the shift bar and going toward the store on the corner of the street. He was unprepared for just how quickly he would get there, running straight into the wall to the left of the door. Runner indeed. Rounding the doorway, he snuck down the aisles, and up to the door. He burst in, plowing through stacked boxes and into the racks of the storeroom.

EdgeRunner: Aight, you can let go of the shift, bud.

lostdestiny: Fuck, we're so screwed. We lose out on this one it's on you Edge, and I'm not coughin' up a single coin.

EdgeRunner: Des, hit your fuckin' vape and keep your eyes peeled. I'll worry about the new kid. Greg, hang tight. Wait for me to give you a signal, then you run to the hotel down the street. Got it?

Greg chuckled to himself, he'd stumbled into quite the little gang. These guys were far from noobs, they were good if not professionals. From behind the closed door, he sat idly, waiting with bated breath for Edge to give him the unmentioned word. Over his headphones, he could hear the trio plotting as if they were soldiers planning their attack.

EdgeRunner: Iron, be position. They're gonna come barreling down that alley like a fuckin' stampede, so nuke 'em until I can get there. Des, they in sight yet?

lostdestiny: Just like you said, boss man. Comin' in hot.

EdgeRunner: Perfect. Greg. There's a glowing purple crate in the corner. Open it and pick up whatever is in it, and do it quick.

Greg fumbled over the keys, searching the dark room until he saw the glowing purple box hidden beneath a pile of trash. Clicking on it, the box opened, shucking all the garbage atop it onto the floor. Inside sat a strange green vial.

Greg: Its... It's a glass syringe? Glowing green stuff inside.

EdgeRunner: That's what you're looking for. Bag it and get ready to run.

Greg slipped it into his bag. The syringe showed up as 'upgrade' in the inventory, but no other information was provided. Usually, at least, there was some sort of witty description for the items in-game. Might be modded, he thought to himself, not that he would know anyway. He positioned himself by the door, holding his breath.

ironclad: Fireworks.

EdgeRunner: Now, Greg. Go!

His left pinky firmly planted on the shift key, Greg burst out of the door, through the store and into the street. Outside, a barrage of AI cop grunts were surrounding the building across the way. Pillars of smoke and fire erupted from bombs being dropped from the roof, a massive lug of muscle being the culprit with Ironclad's red tag hovering above him. From within the crowd, an explosion of grunts flew through the air, and dead in the center of the action was EdgeRunner, a maxxed out avatar oozing athleticism and strength with a nearly full level bar floating above him. Fuck, who were these guys?

EdgeRunner: Don't fuckin' freeze on us, Greg. Run!

Taking the hint, Greg bolted down the street, weaving past smoke bombs and gunfire until he made it to the hotel's revolving door, shattering the glass as he crashed through. Inside, three grunts stood behind the front desk, quickly pulling out absurdly massive guns.

Greg: Edge, there's guys in here, they got big ass motherfucking guns too.

EdgeRunner: Fuck, okay. Hold control, shift, and Y. Then run to the elevator. Do it before they peg ya!

Greg: Fuck!

EdgeRunner: Iron, toss a few into the hotel. Help the kid out.

ironclad: On it.

Greg could hear the whistling in the air of the incoming bombs flying toward the lobby. He held down the keys and ran toward the elevators as instructed. Though, as he did, waves of colors surrounded his avatar, deflecting the bullets as they flew before the explosions behind him came bursting in. As the elevator doors closed in front of him, he saw the XP points flowing into his bar from the dead grunts. The elevator began to climb.

EdgeRunner: Woooooooooo baby! That's what I call a bait n switch! Kid, you're a natural.

lostdestiny: Beginner's luck.

EdgeRunner: It's gonna be a second before that elevator gets to the top level. Regroup at the hotel, they'll be swarming him. Des, you're on the 99th floor, right?

lostdestiny: Best view in the city.

EdgeRunner: Keep watch, we'll be there in a second. New guy will be on your floor in a couple of minutes. Greg, let's do a one-on-one, yeah?

On the screen, a side window popped up in the bottom corner. Incoming call: EdgeRunner 1 on 1. Fuck, was this guy trying to video chat?

Greg: Uhhhh, I didn't know you could cam...

EdgeRunner: What, you ain't jackin' off are ya? C'mon lemme see.

Greg waited for a moment, nervous beyond words. Watch it be some 60 year old gaming in his mom's basement, was this really the kind of guy he'd want to game with anyway? The curiosity had only crept up since he stumbled into the server, it's not as if they were meeting in real life or anything. It's a screen. He nodded to himself, as if to give himself permission, and clicked on the accept button. In the corner box, EdgeRunner himself popped into focus.

Not what he expected whatsoever. He wasn't much older than Greg, maybe late twenties, early thirties. That was a relief. His room was shrouded in a blue hue, pairing nicely with his ID tag color in game. He was covered in ink from the forehead down, with white hair and a nice pair of pecs cropped just out of view. Again, far from what he expected to see.

"What's up, Greggo?" He smirked, as if studying Greg from behind his lens.

"Yeah... In an elevator. On my computer." Edge laughed, taking his eye contact away to refocus on his game.

"Playin' pretty fuckin' well so far. You sure you never played before now?" Greg found himself blushing a tad bit at this hunk of a man, alarmingly similar to the stud avatar he portrayed online. "Might have to keep you around if you keep up at this rate." The ping of the elevator reaching the 99th floor brought him right back into the world, as the doors opened to a tall, lanky guy with his back to him.

"Des, I presume?"

lostdestiny: Who the fuck else would it be? Mommie? Get to the loot at the end of the hall, fifth door on the right.

"Des isn't the sweetest fruit in the basket. Don't mind him. But get to the room as quick as you can, bud." Holding down the shift key yet again, though now as if it were second nature to him, he bolted down the hall, dodging the mines which littered the floor. "Yeah, don't be up in your feelings about it, but the upgrade is for you, kid. If I were you, I'd take it now while you can. Get you on our level quicker, if ya catch my drift." Greg didn't think twice. He opened the inventory, clicked on the vial, and hit use. His avatar quickly pulled out the syringe from off screen, jamming it into his wrist. The liquid quickly flowed into his avatar, but changes were slow. He arrived at the door, opening them to a boardroom overlooking the whole city, bathed in a purple hue.

Greg: What am I looking for exactly?

ironclad: You'll know it when you see it. Find it quick, they're coming up.

As Greg began to search through the shelves and drawers lining the walls, he was too preoccupied to notice the veins of black starting to flow from his fingertips up his limber arms. While he may have been too focused to see, Edge was watching eagerly in the bottom corner with a giant grin forming on his face. His little window closed, leaving Greg in his search.

lostdestiny: Incoming. Edge, would be a really fuckin' great time for you to pull some fuckshit about now!

Explosions rung out in the hallway, and an eruption of bullets soon followed. Greg felt the pressure bearing down on him, he felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation were sitting atop him like boulders. But hidden in the darkness of his room, the black veins crawled higher and higher, across his shoulders and back, creeping up the back of his neck, until he felt a pinch right at the base of his skull. Instant headrush.

The world got blurry in a mere second, his ears started to ring and his muscles began to pulse. Though, in that moment, he felt something else swelling within him: confidence. Control, Shift, C. The boardroom went blue, a glowing yellow aura radiated from behind one of the walls. Greg smiled, bolting to the wall. Alt, D, F7. The shelves shuddered, then slowly retracted into a dark void. The payload sat at the end of a long, dark hallway on a spotlit pedestal. Some crazy mechanical contraption, it seemed. Though he didn't know what it was, he knew inherently that this is what he was looking for. Just as Iron said.

Greg: Bingo.

EdgeRunner: Careful, newbie. Watch the walls.

A single step forward, and red lasers began to shoot left and right. An hour earlier, he'd be pissing himself on an 'exterminated' screen, raging to no one but himself. Though now, as he felt the energy coursing through his body, the corner of his lip shifted upward, his brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. Showtime.

Alt, Shift, F2, Q, L... the keys flew by beneath his fingers as he dodged, rolled, and lept past every sensor. The keyboard could barely keep up as his hands danced across it. It was an invigoration he'd never experienced before, an expertise he'd never felt, a self he'd never known. Every new trap before him was a piece of cake, avoiding them before they'd even triggered. In the span of fifteen seconds, he'd arrived at the pedestal. The Carpe Diem. A major upgrade, far above his current standing, but it would fetch a pretty price for the right punk. The massive implant somehow fit in his inventory, he was thankful he wasn't on a real job, lugging this around would have been a task in and of itself.

Greg: Payload in hand. Ready to get the fuck out of here.

EdgeRunner: Gonna be a messy exit, kid. You up for it?

Greg: Don't have to flirt that nasty with me, Edge. Treat me tender.

He spun around, leaping down the entire hallway in one go. Thank you Shift, T, S. The crew stood at the door to the boardroom, perhaps a hundred grunts firing everything they had not far behind. Greg looked at every corner, and realized quickly what Edge meant. He turned around, looking at the massive glass wall overlooking Sunset City. His massive feet tapped against the wooden floor beneath his desk, itching for the run he was about to embark upon, his body begging for the rush... his muscles aching for the wind on his skin. He smirked. No second thoughts, he burst through the window.

ironclad: Fuck kid! That's one way out I guess!

EdgeRunner: Bail, boys! Let's fly.

Freefalling, Greg felt the cool breeze of his plummet on the lids of his closed eyes. Soon, but not yet. He had a job to finish. Control, Shift, C. His fall became a sprint, every footfall landing softly on the glass below, looking 99 floors straight down to the pavement.

GreWind: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

Exhiliration. Excitement. Freedom. He was free. Coasting on the diagonal glass, he surfed down the building until he came painlessly onto the sidewalk below, followed not too far behind by Des landing in a bush, Iron on his face, and Edge on his own two feet. The quartet sped toward the four bikes parked along the street, making their swift getaway. As Wind wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, letting the ripe waft of pits beam from his arms. Incoming 1 on 1 from EdgeRunner. He of course had to reem in the accolades, smiling as he hit accept. Edge popped up in the corner of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about! That upgrade did ya good, new kid." Wind smirked, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss to his studly boss man.

"You can show me your appreciation later, babe. Worked up a storm for ya." Wind flexed his arms, licking the sweat from his bicep and running his hand through his bright green hair.

"Heh, yeah, you're gonna fit in just fine. This'll fetch a nice penny from the middleman. Now, whaddya say, Greg? Ready for the real work?" Edge winked and his window closed.

EdgeRunner: Rendezvous at Checkpoint's. Your cuts will be waiting for you.

Stormwind: Aye, aye Captain.

lostdestiny: Shit, you two get a room already.

EdgeRunner: Nah, you're gonna sit and watch me fuck him raw and nasty, Des.

Stormwind: Won't be the last if you're nice, Des.

ironclad: I swear, if newbie is gonna be cumdump, I'm gonna be on whatever job he's on.

Stormwind: Plenty to go around, boys. Better be ready to clean this dick and worship these feet. They run real fast for y'all and they could use a tongue bath, won't even need any poppers. Freebase, baby.

EdgeRunner: See you at Checkpoint's, Wind. Welcome to the team.

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mitsuyeaah · 1 year

Text

MUSE

SHUJI HANMA x f! reader

"pictures of the old us got me feelin’ older. i just thought you should know i never wanted closure but you had no problem leavin’, now i’m the one to feel it."

cw: photographer! hanma, angst, smut, oral (m receiving), nsfw (mdni), slight fluff, mentions of break up, hurt/no comfort, pet names (baby, doll, princess), swearing

word count: 6.1k

a/n: italicized paragraphs indicate the past!! :”) © divider: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

“Aaand, that’s all for today! I will send you a link for the pictures you’ve chosen after touching them up.” Shuji mused, looking up at his client from the chair he sat on, one hand on the mouse from scrolling through a collection of photographs he had recently taken. His client, a famous one at that, thanked and bid him goodbye before leaving his studio.

Finally.

Shuji leaned forward and propped his elbows on his desk, letting out a sigh he had been holding in since the session started while slowly massaging his temples. The client that booked him for today was unforgettable, today’s model–Hakkai Shiba– that he took photographs of was fine but it was his manager that made the shoot a little more complicated than it should have been.

Usually, his clients would give him the liberty to express his art and skills through the photographs he’s taken with a brief background of how they want the photos to turn out, and that was fine because it still gave him enough room to incorporate his ideas into each photograph taken. But Hakkai’s manager had asked more than he’d expected. This was fine by Shuji as it challenged him more than usual–and he had to thoroughly think of his next move–but it just overwhelmed him.

Just a bit.

He wasn’t usually like this during his booked sessions as he needed to be in his best mentality, mind cleared from any non-work related distractions but today was different. Shuji had somehow let his feelings get the best of him and is probably the reason why he’s blaming his client’s manager for feeling more stressed and on-edge.

It was a bittersweet day for him.

Shuji managed to bag a very famous model today, which meant the pay that came with it was also going to be good but today was also a very important one at that, well, it used to be important. Not anymore.

You and him were supposed to be six years today. Six years of loving each other, six years of waking up next to one another, six years of unforgettable memories. All was well, until one day last year, you decided to throw all those years down the drain like it was nothing, years wasted, just like that. You left him all alone in your shared apartment and took a piece of him that he knew he was never going to get back.

Now, he tried moving on with his life despite the gaping hole where his heart used to sit, beating for you, and you only.

Shuji cursed under his breath before opening the last drawer of his desk and reaching for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, upon doing so, he spotted a memory card in a transparent case which was underneath the cigarettes. He furrowed his brows, trying to wrack his brain around what it could be since it had no label on it.

The memory card was clearly used as it had a sticker attached on the case that he’d usually put when the card was full. He held a cigarette between his lips and lit it up, taking a long drag, savouring the way it filled his lungs before puffing out the heavy smoke and reaching for the mysterious memory card.

Wisps of smoke surrounded his workspace as he grabbed the camera—that was connected to his computer—which sat next to his computer and changed out its memory card with the one he’d found. Shuji grabbed his mouse and hastily exited the application that housed the collection of photographs he had taken today and clicked on the new icon that had popped up on his desktop.

He wasted no time and dragged the cursor of his mouse to where the icon was before coming to a sudden halt, the cursor hovering the icon, waiting to be clicked. Shuji sucked in a sharp breath as he read the name of the icon, ‘My Muse’, his heart skipped a beat at the name, he only had one muse. His one and only muse.

You.

He leaned back in his chair, contemplating whether to click it or not. He didn’t know whether opening the file was a good idea or a bad one, he sighed and took another long drag of his cigarette, leaning his head back before putting it out and leaving it in the ashtray.

Fuck it, he thought and opened the file. He didn’t know what kind of contents it housed but that wasn’t a reason for him to be this nervous about diving into the mysterious memory card.

The application quickly opened, loading a collection of photos. Of you, and there were many.

The computer screen showed the very first set of photos in the memory card, it was when Shuji was still in college starting out his Arts degree. He clearly remembered taking these photos like it was yesterday and internally cringing at some of them, some photographs were out of focus, some had the subject moving too quickly, and some were blurry in a way that he knew were caused by shaky hands.

“Come on, please? Just this once! I really really need a subject for this assignment.” Shuji practically begged on his knees, both his hands encasing one of your hands and shaking them as he looked at you with desperation.

You sighed and briefly closing your eyes before meeting his expectant gaze, his golden eyes glimmering with hope, “Shuji, I already told you… I am too busy typing up lab reports to be taking photos. Just go find someone else, plus, I’m not even photogenic .”

Apparently, Shuji had an assignment where they needed to photograph a live subject while focusing on some factors such as light and contrast while also emitting emotion from the still photographs. They were free to choose any concept as long as it closely followed the rules stated.

The tall man in front of you huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking over to the side to avoid your gaze, “But I want you to be my subject.” you could see a slight pink tinting his cheeks. He was adorable. Shuji turned his head back to you, looking defeated, “Just this once! I promised I won’t bother you about it again. Please? For your boyfriend?”

And how could you say no to that?

Later that night, Shuji had come into your dorm, a camera bag evidently slung over his shoulder and a laptop tucked on his side. He sat on your bed, fiddling with his digital SLR camera to sort out its settings so the photographs came out exactly how he wanted them; with you typing up your lab report in mind, Shuji decided he wanted to do a concept that all students closely related to.

Pulling an all-nighter. That was going to be his concept.

He wanted to photograph you while you typed your lab report. He wanted to capture the raw emotions of his subject going through the different stages of studying, the concentration, the thinking process, the stressing out, and the procrastination while also incorporating the play of light.

“Okay, just do your thing. Pretend like I’m not here at all.” he whispered, as if this was some kind of sacred moment. You nodded at his instructions and focused on your laptop in front of you, the lab report document already pulled up.

Shuji shuffled around you, trying to get the best angles that captured both the atmosphere and your emotions well, you heard the soft clicks of the shutter but paid no mind to it as it didn’t distract you as much. He also played around with the lamp that you had on, pointing it in certain angles that casted harsh shadows upon your face or illuminating the features that he had grown to love.

At first, you felt tense under the constant attention you gained but Shuji didn’t fail to calm your mind.

You had to hold yourself back from smiling as the constant quiet praises he gave you, giving occasional ‘Ooh yes, that’s a good pose. It really shows how stressed you are’, ‘I like that’, ‘Nice’ and other praises just like photographers seen in movies would do so. You knew he did those to reassure you that you were doing a good job for him, despite not claiming to be photogenic.

It didn’t take long before Shuji was satisfied with the photographs he took, finding some hidden gems amongst the collection of photos. You both looked at the shots on his laptop, laughing at some that looked funny, “I like this a lot, you made me look so pretty.” you giggled, leaning onto his shoulder as you circled his waist with both your arms.

“Hmm? No, no, it’s all you baby. But if that’s the case, then I might just make you my muse, huh?”

Shuji smiled at the old photographs of you. God, you looked so young and cute, he always liked photographing you when you were off-guard because of how real your emotions came out in the shots.

He looked at the last photo from that night, the light illuminating your features which produced a stark contrast against the dark background behind you. The photo showed you staring off to one side, chin rested on your palm and a small pout on your lips. Shuji remembered how he accidentally blurted out ‘so pretty’ as he looked through the viewfinder of his camera, it made you blush. He always liked making you blush, he liked how he could pull out such reactions from you.

Shuji scrolled further down the collection and stopped at a different set of photographs that captured his eyes. It was a group of black and white portrait shots of you, your features enhanced with makeup. You were definitely a little older here, probably during the time he was just starting out his own business of being a professional photographer.

These were one of the many photographs that he had up on his website gallery to familiarise potential customers more about his work and how he expressed his skills. Shuji rested his chin on his palm and clicked a photo, it showed a typical portrait photo of you, back straight, shoulders rolled back and facing the camera smiling.

It was the weekend, which meant that it was a time for relaxation and lounging around the apartment after doing some chores. You lazed on the couch, mindlessly scrolling and switching between social media apps, stopping at certain posts that piqued your interest.

Shuji waltzed into the living room, yawning loudly before slumping right beside you on the couch, head resting on your shoulders and an arm slinging around your front as he peeked at the screen of your device. “Can I ask you something?” he mumbled. You knew that tone, it was the one he used when he wanted something you couldn’t say no to.

“Lemme guess, another shoot?” you chuckled, placing your phone face down on your chest and slightly turned to look at your boyfriend. Shuji chuckled, “You know me so well.”

That’s what he liked about you so much, you could read his body language so well and he appreciated that a lot. He might’ve lied when he told you the first time that he wasn’t going to bother you again with his shoots back when you were in freshman college, because he clearly couldn’t get enough of you and your beauty.

You were Shuji’s favourite subject after all.

It made sense that it was going to be photographs of you plastered on his gallery website because to him, you were the epitome of beauty. You may not be flawless nor perfect in your eyes, but he loved every single thing about you. He loved how your expressions were always so genuine while you stood in front of the lens every single time because you always saw yourself as a non-photogenic person.

“Okay, let's take a break.” Shuji removed the camera from his face and walked over to his desk to set it down. You two were currently at his newly bought studio—that was still under construction— and he had set up a white backdrop and some lights for the shoot. You hopped off the stool you were sitting on and stood behind your boyfriend who now sat in front of his computer, surveying the black and white photographs of you.

Shuji whistled as he looked at them one by one, “You always give me the brightest and most genuine expressions. I love it so much, baby. So pretty.” he chirped, looking over his shoulder, his singular long gold earring swaying with the movement. You met his golden gaze that was filled with amazement and love that made you blush, you waved a hand, brushing him off, “It’s because you’re the one behind the camera. When someone that handsome is looking at me, I can’t help but do so.”

Now it was Shuji’s turn to blush. He shook his head and chuckled softly, “Come here.” he whispered as he pulled you onto his lap and securely wrapped an arm behind you. “Not to be sappy but… I’m really glad you’re still with me.” He started off, his expression turned into a sullen one.

“I know my career didn’t really start off stable and it’s just so competitive, too. I really appreciate you for sticking with me through ups and downs of my life, fuck, you even helped me pay for this studio. I’m grateful for you because if it was anyone else, I don’t know if they’d stick around longer than you.” Shuji’s sudden confession took you by surprise, he was never really one to be sappy and openly confess his feelings like this.

It made your heart ache thinking that Shuji thought other women would leave him for his unstable career path, his career definitely didn’t define him as a person. He had so much love to give you and that’s all that mattered, you were there with every up and down of his life because he deserved to experience it with someone he loves.

He had let you know countless times how stupid he felt for choosing such a career that didn’t exactly guarantee the future he wanted. Shuji was scared of the fact that he might not be able to provide enough for your future but you’ve reassured him countless times that you two were going to get through this together.

“God, Shuji, you know I don’t only see you for your career. I helped you pay for this studio because I saw how passionate you are with your work and I know people will soon appreciate that, and I will be there with you when that happens. I will be there cheering you on when that gallery exhibition you’ve been dreaming about finally comes to you.” You cupped his face, giving him a smile that calmed his heart down.

Shuji deserved everything in the world and you wanted to let him know that. He had been dreaming about wanting to host an exhibition to showcase his works as far as you could remember. You remember him telling you about it, a hopeful glint in his honey coloured eyes that made you want to follow him to the edge of the world.

If you could, you would pay to see his hard work finally paying off.

Shuji remembered this day. This was the day he asked you to be his subject for the photographs he was going to put up on his website. He also remembered how you reassured him that you were going to be there with every step of the way.

How ironic, he thought.

If only you knew back then that your words basically contradicted the situation now. Now, he was all alone, you weren’t by his side anymore. You didn’t cheer him on anymore, even after being sought out by many famous models and companies because of his excellent work.

Is this what it felt like to be alone at the top?

Being surrounded by so many people that absolutely adored his work but the one person that he did it all for didn’t even care anymore. The one person he strived to work hard for was gone.

Now that he finally had his work recognized, where were you?

Shuji let out a heavy sigh, propping his elbows on his desk and burying his face into his hands. It’s already been a year since you two broke up but why was he still this broken? Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of you and how he would never be able to feel your warm touch again, how he would never see your pretty face first thing in the morning and how he would never look forward to tomorrow because you weren’t there anymore.

The thought of you not being by his side broke him. He wanted to grasp something that he couldn’t.

Were you doing well these days? Do you still think about him? Questions ran through his mind. But the most important one of them all caused a tear to run down his face, have you already found someone else? Someone who loves you more than he does?

You probably did. You were a gem and he was sure no man would be able to resist you. On the other hand, he was all alone, still expecting you to come by his studio and wrap your hands around him. Shuji was still hoping for something that he knew was completely foolish and impossible.

But it never harmed anyone to dream.

He was about to exit the folder of photos until he caught a glimpse of a certain set of photos at the bottom row. He scrolled down to see the entirety of the collection, eyes widening at it. He sucked in a sharp breath before clicking on one of them, the application enlarging it which showed rather interesting poses of you in a racy lingerie.

His eyes darted everywhere. Fuck, you looked so sexy. You were lying on your front, chest rested and arms crossed on top of the arm rest of your sofa, feet kicked up, sporting black stilettos and back sexily arched while looking straight at the camera with a sultry expression.

You deliciously filled out the black lingerie you were wearing, the way it hugged your body in all the right ways caused Shuji to swallow thickly. This was the day he wanted to try something new, not just portraits, not just fashion photography, something more fun. Of course he’d only try it with you, and only you.

This photo was sometime around last year, a couple of months before you two broke up.

“A what?” you almost spat your morning coffee out. “A boudoir shoot. It would be fun!” Shuji took a sip out of his mug, throwing you a sly look while wiggling his brows. You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, for you, pervert.” you chuckled.

“I don’t sense any disagreement though.” “You don’t even have to ask, you know I’ll say yes.”

“Oh good, cause I already know what you’re going to wear.” Shuji gave you a smirk before jumping up from his chair and practically sprinting to your shared bedroom, your eyes trailing him, confusion seeping in.

Shortly after, he came back out with a medium-sized white box and a distinct black bow tied around to seal it. Shuji carefully set the box next to your coffee and looked at you with expectant eyes, a saccharine smile forming on his pink lips, “Open it.”

You didn’t bother asking him what was inside because you knew he’s stubborn and would rather want you to find out by opening the box, you reached for one end of the black bow and pulled on it to untie it and placed your hands on the lid of the box and took it off, revealing the contents of it.

Amongst the white tissue paper, there lay a black lace lingerie set that you knew was barely going to cover anything. From the looks of it, it was a halter-bra that sported a very generous opening right in the middle of it, which would gloriously expose even more skin of the wearer. The set also came with matching panties and a suspender belt—which consisted of a small white bow in the middle of the garter—with opaque black thigh high socks.

Of course you weren’t new to these types of clothing and owned some yourself but this was completely different. It was sexy, very sexy. You don’t even know if you could pull the whole look off but the gaze Shuji was giving reassured you that it would compliment your body just fine, splendidly, even.

Shuji didn’t even give you enough time to examine the intricateness of its design before eagerly pushing you into the bathroom of your shared bedroom to try it on while he got his equipment ready.

It took you quite a while to put on the halter-bra due to the large opening right at the centre but you managed to put the set together without ripping the delicate fabric. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, the opening right on the middle of the bra was bigger than expected and exposed your inner breast area. The lacy panties barely covered anything and you weren’t going to lie, you liked the way it complimented your ass.

The suspender belt along with the opaque thigh high socks were the selling point and probably the reason why Shuji had picked this set without any hesitation. You knew Shuji was a sucker for the way thigh high socks tightly wrapped around your upper thigh, it did things to him to the extent where during your intimate times, he would leave them on, if you were wearing one.

You opened the bathroom door and poked your head out to see Shuji patiently waiting on your bed, equipment already in place. He was going all out for your boudoir shots, he even had his old reflectors set up and pointed at the bed—where you would be posing, you guessed—Shuji noticed you and stood up, eagerly telling you to show him how it looks.

Your palm instinctively covered the exposed area on your chest as you stepped out, you weren’t insecure about anything since Shuji had seen your body in its entirety but you were rather shy since it had been a while since you wore a lingerie set.

The tall man in front of you sucked in a sharp breath as he took your whole body in. He was at a loss for words, you were fucking beautiful. It looked like it was made for you with how well it hugged your body, he swore he felt himself getting hard by just the sight of you.

“Baby, you look so beautiful.” He gaped, softly tugging away the hand that covered your chest, Shuji leaned down and kissed at your exposed skin, earning a small sigh of content and making you shiver. “Shouldn’t we start the shoot first before doing anything? Or have you changed your mind?” You chuckled, slightly pushing him away by the chest, a teasing look on your face.

“Fuck, you’re right.” He breathed out, running a hand through his hair.

“Get on the bed for me and lie down with your head resting near the foot of the bed and cross one knee over the other—yeah, just like that. Try to place one arm near your head and give me a sultry expression.” Shuji instructed and you closely followed his instructions.

Your boyfriend shuffled around the bed, fixing your hair and the sheets to maximise the outcome of the photo.

You managed to pose several times on the bed, eventually incorporating black stilettos as well to amplify the sexy look. One of Shuji’s favourite shots were of you lying on your stomach, an elbow propped on the mattress and chin resting on your palm as you gave him a sultry look. Your feet were kicked up in the air and the black panty hooked on one heel of the stiletto. It was truly a sight.

The bed wasn’t the only location Shuji took photographs of you in, you two basically explored the whole apartment. From sexily posing on the couch to pressing your body against the wet walls of the shower and with every click of the shutter, Shuji grew harder.

He couldn’t help but admire the way your body seductively posed in different ways, the way your back arched the same way it would while he was fucking you. Fuck, he couldn’t help his dirty thoughts.

There was no hiding the fact that Shuji had a painful tent evident in his pants, you also saw the way his gaze changed as the shoot progressed further, his honey eyes that were once filled with enthusiasm now clouded with lust. His breathing also became shallow and he gripped his camera a little harder each time he had to move around to take photos as his hard cock would painfully rub against his clothing.

“Do you need help with that?” You smirked, looking down at the tent in his pants before meeting his lustful gaze. “Fucking hell, come here.” Shuji loudly set the heavy camera on the sink before pulling you into him and roughly kissing you against the counter of the sink.

His kisses were rough and desperate, just how you liked them. Shuji didn’t hesitate running his big hands all over your exposed body, from your hips to your waist and even up to your chest. He settled for your chest, massaging your breasts over the lacy fabric of the lingerie which earned a small whine from you.

The parting of your plump lips allowed Shuji to slip in his hot tongue, exploring the inside of your mouth and causing you to moan. “Fuck, can I rip this off already?” He whispered against your lips, fingers hooking on either side of the opening of the halter-bra.

He didn’t even give you any time to protest before completely ripping it apart. The bra now loosely sat on your chest and revealed your breasts as the ripped fabric rested on either side of your chest. Your boyfriend leaned down and sucked on the valley of your breasts while massaging each mound with a hand.

Shuji’s hands were big enough to encase the entirety of your breasts which made them easier to massage, it also felt a hundred times better due to the fact that he was able to squeeze and play with your breasts all in one go as it fit perfectly against his hands.

Your hands flew up to his hair, tugging at them as he sucked on your nipple, his tongue swirling around the bud, causing you to become even more sensitive to his touch, Shuji also slipped his hand underneath your breast and pushed it up to shove more flesh in his mouth, earning a loud moan as you threw your head back.

He groaned against your skin at the feeling of your hands roughly tugging at his hair, he made his way back up to your neck and peppered it with kisses and bruises, his mouth alternating between sucking, biting and kissing at the sensitive skin.

You pressed your hands on his chest and slightly pushed him away to break the kiss, you dropped down to your knees and reached for his pants, fingers hooking around the garter of his joggers and pulling it down to reveal his hard cock straining against his black underwear.

There was already an evident wet patch where his tip was as you palmed him through the piece of clothing, Shuji’s knees almost buckled at this and practically had to rest both his hands on the edge of the counter, effectively trapping you between him and the sink.

He hissed as you pulled his boxers down, his hard cock finally springing free from its confines. You gaped at his length, it was standing proudly and had an evident vein that ran down on one side—a vein that you often liked to trace with your tongue—and his tip an angry red with precum, waiting to be sucked on.

You trailed kisses along the vein that ran on the side of his cock, earning a desperate groan from Shuji, he gripped the edge of the counter a little tighter, knuckles whitening as you massaged his balls while peppering kisses all over his length. He loved it so much when you did that but it made him more desperate for your touch, more desperate for your mouth.

“Fuck, princess, just suck me off already.” he whined, one hand leaving the counter and down to your face, brushing out strands of loose hair that covered your face before resting against your cheek, thumb tenderly caressing your skin. You looked up at him and met his heavy-lidded gold eyes that were full of desperation, Shuji lifted up his shirt, biting at the seam so it wouldn’t get in the way.

God, you looked so pretty looking up at him like that, leaning into his palm while you kissed up his dick, hands still massaging his heavy balls. Shuji swore he could cum from this erotic sight alone. If only he could take a picture of you right now so he could savour this moment forever but he was too focused on the way your mouth moved against his dick to reach over the sink and grab his camera.

Shuji threw his head back with a loud groan as you finally put his tip inside your mouth and sucked on it hard, stiff tongue running up and down his precum-filled slit. He tasted salty but you didn’t care, you were used to it anyway.

Both his hands flew to your hair as you took his length into your mouth, inch by inch, his hips desperately bucking into your mouth and hands pulling at your strands, “Ah! Fuck, baby, that’s it—mhm! Take all of me like the champ you are.” Shuji groaned as he completely bottomed out the fabric of his shirt falling from his mouth, your nose made contact with his pubic bone along with his balls that sat against your chin.

Shuji was so fucking deep that you had to grip onto his thighs to ground yourself, “Breathe through your nose baby, I won’t go easy on you.” he whined at the way your mouth felt so hot against his dick. He slowly pulled out, his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping the side of your head before thrusting back in, setting slow deep thrusts into your mouth.

Soon, his thrusts sped up, hips desperately bucking into your face while his heavy balls slapped against your chin, Shuji couldn’t help but harshly grip and tug your hair from the pleasure that engulfed his tall body. He was so vocal. His mouth hung open and eyes tightly shut, endless profanities and pornographic moans rolling out of his mouth.

You could only sit there and take what he was giving you, all of it while you held his shirt up against his stomach. Endless tears rolling down your cheeks due to how deep he was going and jaw hurting at this size but you behaved like the good girl you were and tried your best to bring Shuji closer to his high by hollowing your cheeks. This made your mouth grip him tighter, earning a strained groan from him.

All kinds of dirty sounds could be heard throughout the apartment, from Shuji’s dirty talking and endless moans to the wet sounds of your mouth as he thrusted in and out of you.

You knew Shuji was nearing his climax with the way his deep groans turned into frequent light and airy breaths that ended in small whines, chest heaving with every breath that escaped past his lips.

“Ngh—ah! I’m cumming, doll! Take all of my fuckin’ load like the good girl you are—ah!” Shuji threw his head back, letting out a loud erotic moan and buried his dick deep inside your mouth and spurts of his thick cum ran down your throat. You rode out his orgasm by massaging his balls, squeezing and tugging at them, just how he liked it.

Shuji whined as he pulled out of your mouth, pulling you up and tasting him against your tongue. “Fuck, I love you so much.” he panted against your lips as he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

He exited the application before he ventured any further into your boudoir shots, he felt like he wasn’t allowed to view them anymore since you two were no longer together. Shuji let out another heavy sigh and leaned back into his chair, briefly looking up at the ceiling of his studio, before completely logging off and turning off his computer. He quickly packed up his things and closed up for the day.

He had a big day tomorrow.

Tomorrow was the day that he was hosting an exhibit to showcase his work in a gallery, the day he’s been dreaming about for as long as he could remember. Normally, he would be ecstatic and over the moon about his first exhibit but there was a missing piece in his chest and he knew you weren’t going to be there to cheer him on tomorrow.

No one was going to be reaching for his hand whenever he was hit with a wave of anxiety anymore.

—

The gallery was busy. The exhibit was open for the public eye, so many journalists and people that admired Shuji’s photography didn’t miss the opportunity to view the showcase of his work.

Each wall was plastered with different collections of photos he had taken throughout the years, accompanied with a little blurb at the bottom of the photograph to explain and give viewers a little insight about the certain picture.

Shuji walked through the gallery, people greeting and congratulating him on the success of his first exhibition, he tried his best to give out genuine smiles and ‘thank you’s’ but he couldn’t help but think back to the day where you told him you were going to be there cheering him on when the day he holds an exhibition finally comes.

The day finally came but where were you?

He stopped in front of a particular photograph, he couldn’t help but add the black and white portrait photo of you, the one where you had the most genuine expression, the one where you said you only had those expressions because he was the one behind the camera. The blurb under this photo was sweet and short, ‘My Muse.’

“You said you’d be here to cheer me on.” Shuji whispered to himself, scoffing as he looked up at your picture. A woman stood next to him as well, keenly viewing the photograph, a bit embarrassed for being caught talking to himself, he was about to silently walk away until the woman beside him spoke up.

“And I am. I never broke my promise.”

Shuji whipped his head to the woman next to him. It was you, his muse. His heart raced as his eyes darted across your features, the features that he had grown to love so much. He was at a loss for words, suddenly everyone else in the room disappeared and he only saw you, his ears tuning out every single sound that didn’t come from you.

Were you actually here? He wasn’t hallucinating, right?

He took your appearance in, all of it. Your hair was now shorter than he remembered and it was styled very differently from the way you wore it in the photograph on the wall and his heart sank, realising that the person he held onto in his memories and photographs no longer existed.

You looked so different now.

But you still had that genuine expression on your face as you met his gaze, this time you weren’t in front of the lens and he wasn’t behind the camera anymore. It was just the two of you, face to face and nothing in between. “I’m so proud of you, you know that, right?” You gave him a small smile before walking away, he wanted to run after you, take your hand in his and never let you go but he stood grounded in his spot.

Unmoving and unsure what to do.

Tears welled up in his eyes, his vision becoming a blur as he stared at your figure walking away from him for good, for the second time in his life. God, he has never hated seeing your back so much until now, he hated how you walked away and never even turned once to look at him.

It was so unfair. You were so unfair, how did you think that suddenly coming into his life again was going to do him any good? Shuji was back to square one, his heart ached and yearned for you more than ever.

It didn’t matter to Shuji anymore that you never broke your promise because you did something worse, you broke his heart.

#shuji hanma #hanma smut #hanma angst #hanma x y/n #hanma x you #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader

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save-the-villainous-cat · 10 months

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Didn’t find an ask that matched this idea

“Listen…” the villain purred and one of their hands landed on the supervillain’s right shoulder. Though comfortable at first, the villain’s fingers clawed harder into their enemy by the second, like an eagle would grab a rabbit.

Admittedly, the supervillain was losing it, sweating and flinching whenever the villain came too close. In the business, it was rather…apparent that the villain would do questionable things to get what they want.

“It’s simple,” the villain said. “We’re both civil people, aren’t we?”

And the worst thing was their persistency.

The supervillain didn’t even dare to nod and the villain finally let go of them, though with a dismissive gaze, sitting down at the supervillain’s desk. Their eyes scanned the boring room lazily. Boring books, boring computer, boring person.

“If you tell me where my hero is, I’ll only break five of your fingers before I kill you. What do you think?” the villain asked casually, eyes still searching throughout the room.

They’d done a disproportionate amount of detective work already and came to an understanding of why the hero loved their job so much that they’d die for it. Puzzle solving was fun but the villain also knew that violence was a helping factor in getting what they want.

And they wanted their hero back.

“Seriously, I’ve told you, I’ve told you a million times— I don’t have them…” The villain had tied them to the chair and the sheer panic of their uncertain future made the supervillain fidget like a scared animal.

“Hm.” The villain leaned back in the chair, watching the blood drop down the supervillain’s forehead. An injury they had accidentally caused a few minutes ago. “One of your henchmen kidnapped them, though.”

“I didn’t give an order or anything, I swear.”

“You told me something about opportunism, once. It’s been a while,” the villain said. Their eyes found the window and they stared at the small garden, the locust tree and the small pond. Their hero loved nature. “…but if I recall correctly, you told me to paint myself however the situation demanded. You appear to be incredibly incompetent right now. I wonder if that’s just a façade?”

“I am not lying.”

“Well, even if you are, you’ll be singing by the time I get to your third finger.” The villain looked back at them. “Singing all your secrets to me.”

“I could find out if one of my guys took them. Just give me some time. I can check security cameras, I could ask around…just give me some time.”

The villain sighed and their gaze wandered to the desktop.

It was never really over, was it? No matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried, their hero would never be safe. They would run into a burning building to save a puppy. Over and over and over again.

The villain smiled softly. That just meant they had to run after them. Over and over and over again.

“You’re not big on responsibility, are you?” the villain asked. “Blaming your own people? Why should they be interested in the hero? You’re the one who likes these games. I thought you would’ve learnt by now that I don’t like to be toyed with.”

“That’s not—”

“Fine.” The villain grabbed their enemy’s hand and pulled until half of the supervillain’s body was sliding over the table. They yelped, pain digging into their hand. “Which one do you need…”

The villain stared at the hand, thinking carefully. Eventually, they decided to go with the thumb and just as fast as their decision, was the gut-wrenching crack. The supervillain screamed and the villain stared down at them, tutting.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” they said. “You don’t scare me and you certainly do not control me anymore.”

They walked around the table, watching as the whimpering supervillain cried and looked at their thumb. It was quite an unhealthy angle.

“Let’s do this again,” the villain said and took the miserable looking hand into their own again. “Until you tell me the truth.”

They smiled.

“And in whatever condition I find my hero, I promise you’ll look ten times worse.”

The supervillain endured six broken fingers until they confessed.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #supervillain

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fictionalblondemalelover · 2 months

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▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬101: 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ PART I *fixed a lot of errors here.*

✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ

gojo x reader (she has trouble how to express emotions and feelings so if you erm, don't prefer any readers that has a characteristic like this. pls scroll!!! Our very elder sister is the baddest of the baddest, none other than Yuki Tsukumo!!! But, you have another older sister and you're the youngest) waarrninnggg! possibly has a smut in the second part or idk third part, goofy moments, wholesome shits, and maybe angst if you squint, all characters are aged up to 18. I'm also convinced that tumblr is just made for desktop users LMFAOO

2006, Tokyo Jujutsu High

You weren't really interested in sorcery and had grown to do things that weren't fully related to it, unlike your older sister who is already experienced. Your parents had only forced you to enroll in her school; after all, you were born into a powerful family filled with sorcerers. You have the potential to become one, but it sounds incredibly boring and doesn't seem to suit your tastes. Korimu, your older sister, is a talented student at Jujutsu High. She has great performance, which means you don't have much time to bond. Lately, there has been a lot of awkward tension between the two of you. "Stop complaining, you'll do fine," your sister Korimu says, continuing to comb your hair regardless of your grumbling and whispering. You fold your arms and avoid eye contact with her in the reflection of the mirror. "I am not," you retort back, trying anything just to compose yourself. "Is that so? Well, by the look on your face, you seem like you're casting a spell under your breath." Your eyes roll in irritation, building up and growing heavy on your nerves. "Whatever, Mom and Dad just forced me to enroll in your school because you're a fourth-year in a school where sorcerers learn." "Perhaps, but you have every opportunity and the potential to become a sorcerer. You know, saving people and fighting curses? Isn't it at least fulfilling to achieve something for the people around you?" "To you, but it's not my destiny or right to become one." Korimu sighs at your comment, knowing how stubborn you are when discussing sorcery. "Y/n, you inherited the power that you rightfully deserve from our clan, where you were blessed as soon as you were born. It's not better or worse than mine, so please, take this opportunity. You can't just wait for someone to tell you this." You were slightly convinced by the sound of desperation in your older sister's tone. "Fine, but that doesn't mean that I'm fully convinced yet." You brush her hands off and begin to stand up from your seat. You swear that when you ever-so-slightly lay a glance on her, there is a genuine and small smile worn across her lips as soon as she hears your response. You have to admit, though, you're not mentally or physically prepared to become a sorcerer. You don't learn martial arts like your sister, your body is stiff, and you punch like a stick. In a way, you sort of wish it was your sister who inherited your power instead of you.

"Ah, wipe that gloomy expression off your face, Y/n. It's only your first day at your sister's school! I'm sure you'll get used to it, sweetheart," you deadpan while your mother smother you with affection. However, despite your mother's reassuring words, you don't actually feel reassured at all. Your mother drops the two of you off at school before heading to work. Your parents don't spend much time bonding, except on weekends. I guess it's not so bad. "See you later, mom." Korimu waves goodbye, giving her one last smile and a kiss on the cheek before she reverses the car. "No kisses for mom?" Korimu tilts her head, but you don't respond.

FIRST POINT OF VIEW

"Korimu, what are you planning to do this time?" I raise an eyebrow, suspecting her movements, as she made her way outside the walls of Jujutsu High, jumping off the tall railing with ease and I couldn't see whether she jumped safely down the ground. My heart almost dropped and I immediately rushed to the railings, to check Korimu "Y/n! jump down here! I'll catch you! Promise!" Korimu called out and my heart was beating like crazy. My eyes open wide and shake my head in response. "Just do it!" I could hear her ordering again but I don't know for whatever reason, I was under the impression that she wouldn't catch me but yet again there's another good reason why she can catch me. She's an experienced sorcerer. "Korimu! You're too damn fast!" "Well, that's a sorcerer thing, you know!" Damn, we've been running for what feels like forever... I'm already exhausted... Where is this woman even taking me? We're not even inside the school building. "Where the hell are you taking me, woman?" This lady has an insane amount of stamina... In other words, Korimu looks around the area while effortlessly standing on another broken railing. "Well, I have an urgent mission to take care of for the second-years as well as my classmates." "And your brilliant idea was to bring me here?" "Yup." Her response is both annoying and tiring, and I have to suffer hearing every word come out of her mouth every time now. "Oh, I can already hear the mansion from very far away." "What- Nevermind, I'm not even going to question where you get these senses from..."

A few long seconds later,

We finally arrive and I can barely keep up with Korimu's pace... She's just like Yuki, both of them are beasts. "Oh, Y/n... Stop being dramatic and toughen up! That was the fastest lap I've ever done. I had to carry your scrawny little ass on the way here!" I can hear her laughing heartily while I was still thrown onto her shoulder, upset. As we get closer, it's quite a scene of destruction, but there is an unexpected encounter, I suppose. "Utahime, you cryin'?" the guy with sunglasses taunts, tilting his head, a devious grin plastered to that face. "NO, I'M NOT! AND BE MORE POLITE!" The girl, presumably Utahime, barking at him like how a wild dog would do to a stray cat. "If I was crying, would you console me? I'd definitely like that." for some reason, I have no idea what to react after that attractive girl intervened. "Nah, you wouldn't cry Mei. You're strong." As for Utahime... She grows more tense and aggresive while quite literally getting hovered by a bricked and concrete wall. While she was about to say something, Korimu makes an entrance and I was still obviously carried onto her shoulder. And some giant curse was about to attack Utahime but quickly got swallowed up by another curse. "Don't swallow it, I'll absorb it later." "Heya, Utahime! How are my fellow second-years doing? Wow, you guys really dropped the ball on taking care of Utahime and Mei Mei! You guys absolutely suck!" Korimu gives the second-years a thumbs up, which actually managed to compose Utahime slightly after her attention shifts to the two of us as soon she noticed her attention. "TSUKUMO! THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE HERE!" Utahime exclaims in relief while she runs her her way here, embracing Korimu tightly. I flinch slightly at her loud voice as I awkwardly shuffle to Korimu's shoulder. "Korimu, put me down, this is riduculous." "Tsukumo-senpaiii." Both the girl with the short haircut and the guy with sunglasses say in unison, and Korimu smiles back at them. "You're always late for an upperclassman, and you're also terrible at taking care of us." their attention then shift to me, analyzing me for a short moment before speaking

"Tsukumo-senpai, you didn't kidnap someone, did you? I know you have a habit of making us second-years as your child but I didn't expect you to take that level, way to go chief." "Do you guys seriously think of me that way as your senior...? After 1 year of teaching you guys with the tricks I have up on my sleeve, this is what I earn?" Korimu wipes an imaginary tear from her cheek, swaying her hair dramatically. "Pfft, well if you're referring to drugs, yeah." "Satoru, It's not nice to speak to your elders like that." "Don't spread your non-sense to my sibling, Gojo, and I'm not that damn old Geto. Anyway...This is my little sister, Y/n. She'll be your new classmate," she finally sets me back down to the ground and introduces me to anyone. "And these three are your classmates. Shoko Ieri, Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo."

"It's nice to meet you." Shoko offered a small nod and a smile as well. Though, I have no clue what to reply back than to just to repeat what she did without the smile stuff. Oh man... This is awkward, I'm technically classmates with Geto. He used to be my former partner after the we got arranged not unil it got cancelled, a year ago. "Why It's nice seeing you again, It's been quite a while since we've seen each other in face to face, is it not, Y/n? I see that you're still the same as always." there he goes, he brought up the fact we know each other but thank goodness it wasn't that we used to have an arranged marriage. Ah darn. "Indeed, I could say the same to you." I silently acknowledged, he smiled sincerely to me but I was unsure If I were the need to smile back at him as well. I recall during our time together, I showed bits and bits of emotions to him. "My, my. You have history with Tsukumo-senpai's sister, Suguru? You sneak." I cleared my throat as soon Gojo began to intervene the conversation, a soft laugh past Korimu's lips, but Utahime was still here, silently shooting daggers to her glare towards to Gojo alone. "Korimu! You better not be off slacking with these imbeciles that lack respect, I'm telling you! You're growing in your ego as their upperclassmen! Basically causing trouble and treating them like your own!" Utahime scolds, while shaking Korimu's arms but she just had a stupid grin on her face and I began to roll my eyes, folding my arms as I witness the chaos unfold. "Bwahaa... Whatever do you mean! I'm a good senior at em, teaching the young ones what I have up in my sleeves!" "THE FOUR OF YOU CASUALLY BLOWN UP THE CHEMISTRY ROOM YESTERDAY! WITH THE SECOND-YEARS!"

"And it was damn flashy when we did it! Now live a litte, Utahime! There's times in short life where you have to entertain your self!" Korimu pats her arm which seems more like a slap in my view, she turns her attention to me, she hooked her arms with mine. "Anyways you three, where's the curtain?" Korimu turns her attention to the second-years within her arms linked with mine and they went absolute pale at the question. "Hm, right. I was about to ask that too." Mei states, her arms folded as well with pretty half lidded eyes.

A very very few minutes later

"You think they'll be fine?" "Yeaahh... No, 50/50 chance. Yaga-sensei is prettyyy strict, but ya know, they'll live." Korimu smiles, and her posture always seems relaxed and comfortable inside Jujutsu High, her classmates, and my classmates whereas she treats them like her own children and causes trouble around with them. She's a lot livelier in here than at home. We waited outside the room for Yaga to finish to scold them three... Or at least one of them. "Right..." I mumbled while staring down at the ground, silently fidgeting with my hands that were placed on my sides. I wasn't sure whether the question I decided should be at the right time here now, though. I still feel Incredibly hesitant. Korimu eyes me and a chuckle escapes her lips. "What is it, you look like you're about to confess your love to me." she jokingly said so and I barfed, causing her to giggle at my reaction. "You're gonna make me vomit," "Just say it, what's stopping you? We have the time to talk about it before Yaga's scolding stops." I stayed silent for a short moment before finally speaking. "Am I really destined to be here?" As soon that question lingered the hallways of us two, there was a moment of silence until Yaga's voice intervened before Korimu was about to respond. "You may now enter." "I'll talk to you later, kay?" I wonder If what currently was revolving around her mind to answer my question was 'You don't really see any purpose as becoming one such as yourself, do you?' It was not an answer but rather another question that I imagined her hitting me back with it. I enter the room while Korimu peeks onto the doorframe, making my classmates perch up at her appearance, and a trail of happy 'Tsukumo-senpaiii!' leaves their mouths. "Heya teach," she greeted, with a smile, her hand guided behind my back. "Tsukumo, this must be your sister that you informed about transferring here, correct?" "Yup, that's her."

What the fuck, man why is there just a little amount of students here, this is kind of abnormal. Is that too extreme? Sorta. "C'mon now Y/n, introduce yourself! Don't stand there so lamely!" Korimu whispered-yell at me and I glare at her over my shoulder, she keeps nudging on me, gesturing me to do so.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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hamsterclaw · 2 years

Text

Castaway

When your charter plane crashes on a deserted island in the middle of the Pacific, you’re the only survivor. Well, you and the most irritating man in the known universe.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! reader

Genre: Desert island AU, smut, mild angst

Rating: 18+

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: Sex on a desert island, explicit sex, swearing, airplane crash

You don’t want to be that person, but you’re going to have to be. You lean over the counter at the ticketing desk in the airport and smile brightly.

‘I really hope you can help me, because I’m Bang Si-hyuk’s personal assistant, and he wants me in Seoul today.’

The perfectly groomed, supremely bored-looking woman behind the counter is unmoved, not even bothering to return your smile.

‘I’m sorry, madam, I really can’t help you.’

You turn away from the counter, trying to work down your frustration. Your job doesn’t necessarily rely on this, but if you don’t make this flight, you can kiss your future as a rising star at the company goodbye.

As you’re considering your alternatives, you see a man dressed in a baggy black tracksuit approach the desk.

He’s got a bucket hat pulled so low over his face all you can see is pink lips and the glint of a lip ring.

You wait for Ms Ice Queen behind the desk to send him packing.

To your disgust, she doesn’t, tilting her head to one side and giving him a coy smile.

No fucking way.

You march over to the desk just as she starts typing into her desktop.

‘Is there a space on this flight now?’ you ask, calm, syrupy sweet. ‘Because when I asked a minute ago there wasn’t.’

Tracksuit man tips his head back so he can see you better.

‘If you took that hat off you wouldn’t have to strain your neck to see around you,’ you say.

Are you being a sour bitch?

Maybe. It’s been a long fucking day.

His lips curve, and he pulls his hat off.

Damn. From the neck up, he’s kind of….

Attractive.

Fucking hot.

Gorgeous.

You gather the last of your wits and turn away from him resolutely.

Ice Queen looks at you. ‘I was just telling Mr Jeon here that there’s a small charter plane that flies into Incheon, leaving tonight. The capacity is very limited, though.’

You and ‘Mr Jeon’ exchange a look.

‘I’m sure they can find room for the both of us,’ he says, slimy as fresh frogspawn.

He tries to sling an arm over your shoulder, and you get a whiff of his aftershave as he moves closer.

Fresh, like newly laundered clothes.

‘I hope there’s plenty of room,’ you say, giving him a quelling look as you take a big step away. ‘Lead the way.’

***

The charter plane has two seats left, and your seat is next to your new acquaintance, but you’re so relieved you almost don’t care.

You bury your nose in your phone as the flight takes off.

Mr Jeon nudges you. ‘Want a snack?’

You glance at his rustling bag of popcorn.

‘No thank you,’ you reply politely.

The seats on this charter plane are pretty close together, and he’s pretty big.

Muscly.

His forearms flex as he tosses popcorn in his mouth.

The border of what looks like a tattoo sleeve peeks out from the sleeve of his jacket, and you remind yourself not to stare.

He leans closer as he looks out the window, and you press your back against the seat as his shoulders take up practically half your airspace.

This close, you can see the curl of his hair against the nape of his neck.

And god, why does he smell so good?

‘You’re in my space,’ you say faintly. Unconvincingly.

‘Sorry,’ he says cheerfully. Equally unconvincingly.

There’s a jolt of turbulence, and your stomach rolls.

Your hand clenches around the metal buckle of your seatbelt as there’s a prolonged run of rattling and shuddering.

Mr Jeon’s looking at you. ‘You’ll be fine,’ he says.

‘Fine,’ you echo.

The pilot’s voice comes on over the loudspeaker, but instead of the reassuring ‘buckle your seatbelts, we’ve reached a patch of turbulence,’ he sounds stone cold serious.

‘There’s been an engine failure, and as a precaution, I’d like everyone to get their life jackets on. I’ll do my best to land us somewhere safe.’

Your stomach flips, and you realise you’re clutching Mr Jeon’s arm.

‘Hey, what’s your name?’ he asks.

You tell him.

‘My name is Jeon Jungkook, and I’m from Busan. I have a brother and three dogs.’

He looks you right in the eyes as he tells you this information, speaking quietly but clearly.

You’ve already got an inkling why before he says, ‘just in case.’

You try to commit it all to memory as you pull your life jacket on, buckling it into place. Jungkook helps you tighten the straps before slipping his own on over his head.

The pilot says, grave and terrifying, ‘brace for impact.’

As you tuck your head against your knees you feel an arm curling around your back. Jungkook’s lifted the armrest between you and is holding you, tight against him.

His eyes meet yours as the plane begins to plummet, and you hear the beginning of thunderous impact before thankfully, everything fades to black.

***

You come to in stages, extending periods of lucidity.

First, the blinding sun, too much and too present when you can’t feel any of your limbs.

Then the smell of the sea, the sound of waves and screeching gulls.

Then the awareness of your body. That your hands can move. You lift a hand in front of your face. It’s blurry but it’s there. Responding to your will.

Your torso is twisted. You shift your hips and your legs move.

Then you remember the plane, and a surge of adrenaline sends you upright.

Fuck your neck hurts but you aren’t going to complain about that right now.

You remember Jeon Jungkook from Busan and you turn to check on him.

It’s only then that you realise half the plane is missing.

You grab for your phone, almost crying with relief when you realise it’s still in your pocket. There’s no reception, shit, but at least it’s on. You switch it off to conserve the battery.

You hear a faint moan from your periphery.

You recognise the all black attire, the muscular frame.

You hurry to him.

‘Jeon Jungkook,’ you say, scanning his face and body.

‘Jungkook!’

His eyes are closed, but he moans a little in response to your voice.

You lean over him, hand on his chest.

‘Jungkook,’ you say, urgently.

His eyes stay closed, but his hand lifts up, and as if on instinct, cups one of your breasts.

‘Gimme a sec, baby,’ he slurs. ‘Just one sec and we can go again.’

You stare at his hand over your tit, too shocked to do anything.

His eyes open.

‘Shit,’ he drawls. ‘Am I in heaven?’

***

It had been surprisingly difficult to convince Jungkook that sex was off the cards, for now.

He’d kept mumbling something about affirming life.

You’d tuned out and waited for him to wind down.

He’d also suggested many different sexual positions, a lot of which frankly sounded unrealistic, but he'd seemed absurdly, ludicrously confident about them.

You’d used the time to patch up a bloody wound on his head and gather your thoughts.

Finally he stops, and he’s now looking at you soberly.

‘We should see if anyone else needs help,’ he says.

You set your jaw and head for where the bulk of the shrapnel is. You don’t find any other living passengers.

The sun is beating down on both your heads, and you realise Jungkook’s looking a little pale.

‘Hey, we should get out of the sun,’ you say.

He nods, stumbling a little. You rush to his side and support him.

He leans heavily on you, and you realise his breathing is a little shallow too.

‘Don’t die on me Jungkook,’ you tell him firmly.

He doesn’t answer.

You lay him down in a shady patch in a grove of coconut trees and get him to drink some water you salvaged from the plane.

He lays there, so pale that you feel rising panic trying to break through the calm facade you’ve adopted thus far.

You stroke his hair back. His eyelids flicker.

‘I’m going to look for things that can help us, ok?’

He doesn’t respond, and you laugh a little hysterically. ‘Like a working phone.’

You squeeze his hand and promise, ‘Don’t worry I won’t be gone long, ok?’

In the time you’ve known him, he’s been most animated when he’s talking about sex, so you throw in a deal conscious Jungkook would definitely go for.

‘If you hang in there, Jungkook, I promise we can have sex once you’re up for it, ok? Any position you like.’

You think you see the faintest flicker of his eyelids, but it could just be your imagination.

***

You search the remains of the plane, concentrating now, salvaging all the things you noticed earlier whilst exploring with Jungkook and not wanting to leave him alone for too long.

When you get back, he’s still sleeping where you left him, shivering slightly. You cover him with a blanket, and, feeling slightly ridiculous because he’s sleeping on the ground, you put a pillow under his head.

He sighs a little and you smooth his brow with your fingers, hoping he finds your touch soothing.

It’s getting dark now, and you curse your lack of foresight at not looking for a flashlight, because the place you washed up on is so dark at night that everything seems a little scarier.

Jungkook’s still unconscious, but you think his breathing is easier.

You curl up next to him and try to sleep.

***

When you wake up, the sun has barely risen. You check on Jungkook and get him to sip some water.

You try not to think about what to do if he doesn’t wake up.

You need help. Your phone has no signal but you send texts and emails anyway, hoping they’ll reach someone in your contacts.

A second search of the plane doesn’t reveal anything more helpful. Nothing looks like it switches on.

You need to explore the island you’re on, but you’re loath to leave Jungkook.

When you get back from the plane, he’s sitting up against the coconut tree, holding his head.

‘Water,’ he croaks, voice raspy and strained.

You uncap one of the bottles of water you found and help him drink.

As soon as he’s gulped it down, he lists alarmingly to one side and you help him lie down.

‘It’s ok Jungkook,’ you tell him, smoothing his hair. ‘Get some rest.’

He settles his head in your lap, sighs, and goes back to sleep.

You can’t leave him, so you join him.

***

When you wake up again, he’s gone.

You’re up on your feet in an instant, calling his name.

Shit. You’ve spent all this time worrying about leaving him and the first thing he did when he woke up was ditch you.

You hear footsteps, and you turn to see him.

He’s standing, cheeks high with colour, a hard look in his eyes.

‘What the fuck happened?’ he asks.

His tone is intimidating, sharp, and you stumble over your words in your haste to explain.

‘The plane we were on crashed. We’re the only survivors. You had a cut on your head and you’re been unconscious for two days.’

‘Is help on the way?’ he snaps.

You stutter. ‘I - I don’t know,’ you confess.

‘Is there anyone else on the island?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to explore-‘

‘What have you been doing for two days?’ he asks, voice harsh. ‘Playing house?’

You stare at him in disbelief and shock.

‘You were hurt,’ you tell him. ‘I didn’t want to leave you alone —-‘

His expression hasn’t softened at all during your explanations.

You take a step back.

For the first time since you found him passed out near the plane, you feel the weight of recent events.

Jungkook’s better, but somehow you’re even more alone.

You take another step back, then another, and then you’re walking away.

He doesn’t call out after you. You don’t know that he even remembers your name.

***

At least with Jungkook awake and seemingly recovered, you’re free to go wherever you want.

The more you think about it, the more enraged you feel about your encounter.

How dare he be suspicious of you when you’ve practically kept him alive for two days?

How very dare he?

‘Not even so much as a thank you for saving my life,’ you mutter furiously.

You’ve given him all your water too.

The ungrateful asshole.

‘Asshole!’ you hiss.

You keep walking, following the shoreline.

Your stomach rumbles in a way that’s already familiar to you.

You think with dark resentment of the supplies bag you left with Jungkook.

It doesn’t matter. Let that asshole have all the snacks you salvaged.

‘Choke on them,’ you mutter.

No one can hear you, but it feels good to say anyway.

***

You’re straining to reach the coconut dangling by a tantalising thin stalk. You have no idea how you’re going to crack open the shell but you need this coconut.

Your entire world at this point depends on this fucking coconut.

There’s literally nothing else.

Certainly not a certain ungrateful asshole with your supplies bag who looks muscular enough to crack this baby open for you.

He practically owes you for keeping him alive the past two days.

You put him out of your head and focus on reaching for the coconut. If you can even just jostle it the slightest bit…

‘What are you doing?’

The voice startles you so badly your hand slips. You scramble and grab at a dried frond. It snaps in your hand and you fall out of the tree, onto your back into the sand.

You groan, winded but unharmed.

He leans over you, face blocking out the sun.

‘Are you ok?’

You don’t bother to answer.

You stare longingly up at the coconut, still taunting you with its green shell and the promise of sweetness within.

His hand reaches for your shoulder.

‘Seriously, are you ok?’

The concern in his voice makes you snort.

Your stomach rumbles because it hasn’t yet learned that no food is coming even if it makes itself heard.

‘Hey, I found the snacks you gathered. Come and eat something,’ he says.

You ignore him.

You’re trying to walk away when he grabs your arm again.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, trying to get you to look at him.

‘You should be,’ you say, and you realise with dismay that you’re practically crying with frustration and rage.

You walk away, swiping at your tears.

‘I’m sorry, I said some pretty awful things,’ he says, persistent.

He lifts a hand, thumb almost brushing the tracks of tears on your cheek before you lean away.

You muster your coldest stare. ‘It’s fine. We don’t know each other at all.’

You turn away. ‘Just give me a second, all right?’

***

You can hear him approaching you again.

Fuck.

At first he wouldn’t stop shouting at you and now he won’t stay the fuck away.

He drops down heavily in the sand next to you.

‘Here,’ he says.

You turn your head to see him holding out a coconut. His hand is large enough to hold it in his palm.

You take another sip of the whiskey you found in the plane.

He picks up the half bottle after you put it down. ‘Was this full?’ he asks.

‘I’m not sharing,’ you say firmly. ‘And this coconut is not open.’

You see him mouth your words as if he’s trying to make sense of them.

You make perfect sense to you.

He’s just being an asshole as usual.

You nod to yourself.

‘What’s the point in all those muscles if you can’t crack open a coconut?’ you ask, reasonably.

The corner of his mouth twitches up, as if he’s about to smile.

You blink at him.

‘I’ll crack it open for you if you come with me,’ he says.

‘No thanks, you’re an arrogant asshole,’ you say, brightly. You lean closer. ‘No offense.’

‘I’m not offended,’ he replies. ‘You’re right. I was a real asshole to you.’

‘Until you realised you need my survival skills,’ you point out. You take another swig of whiskey. It goes down smooth, so smooth, warming you.

Now he’s definitely smiling. ‘Yes, I need you. I can’t cope without you.’

‘I can help,’ you say, magnanimously. ‘But no fucking.’

He chokes on his own saliva, and you offer him your whiskey.

He takes a sip, then frowns. ‘Seriously how much have you drunk?’

‘I was thirsty,’ you tell him, sadly. ‘I left all the water with you.’

‘You were —‘ he breaks off and gets up.

‘Come on you should definitely drink something.’

He holds out a hand to help you up.

You miss it and land straight on your face in the sand with an ‘oof’.

You roll over and Jungkook slips an arm under your knees and another under your shoulders.

He lifts you up with such ease you would be impressed if he wasn’t such an asshole.

He laughs softly, and you realise you’ve said it out loud.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, quietly, shifting you so that your head is against his chest.

You want to tell him, without equivocation, that he’s not forgiven, but he’s warm, and he feels strong, and you’re already drifting away.

***

You sit bolt upright, heart and head thumping.

You need to pee so badly.

You realise that Jungkook’s stirring next to you.

You stumble as far away as you can and squat down near some foliage.

To your horror, you can hear Jungkook stumbling after you.

‘Go away!’ you call out, face burning. ‘I’m peeing!’

He stops.

‘Oh my god, get lost!’ you shout, when he shows no sign of walking away.

‘I need to pee too,’ he calls to you.

You can hear him unzipping, then the splatter of urine hitting the grass.

You’re mortified.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pray for this horror to end.

At least it’s too dark to see each other.

When you’re done, you get up and realise your head is pounding from the whiskey.

Jungkook’s voice startles a squeak out of you. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m fine,’ you reply quickly.

‘No need to be pissy about it,’ he says.

You can’t see him, but you know he’s smirking.

‘Not funny,’ you huff.

He just chuckles softly to himself. ‘Come on let’s go back to sleep.’

****

When you wake up again you feel less like death, but it’s way too hot.

There’s an arm around your waist, your hips snuggled against the curve between a male torso and thighs. It’s not the first time you’ve woken to a man spooning you, but there is no one on this godforsaken island you’d like to spoon with.

You wriggle your hips, and his hand comes to grip your hip, hard.

‘Stop wriggling,’ Jungkook says.

‘I’m trying to get away,’ you protest.

‘Why?’ he asks, sounding perfectly reasonable. ‘It’s nice spooning like this.’

‘Because I hate your personality,’ you explain. ‘I can’t fuck an asshole.’

‘Which assholes have messed with you?’ Jungkook demands, not missing a beat. ‘I’ll take care of them.’

‘You’re an asshole,’ you point out sweetly.

Jungkook chuckles, low, his breath near your shoulder making you shiver.

‘I’ll break open a coconut for you today. And I want to go fishing. Come with me?’

‘I’ll check my schedule,’ you reply, coolly.

His hand tightens on your hip. ‘Don’t be a brat,’ he says.

You hum, and wriggle your hips again as you pull away from him.

He gets up and adjusts his bottoms. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I could use a coffee,’ you say, longingly.

‘And I could use a blowjob.’

‘Use your hand,’ you say, unsympathetic.

‘Want to help?’ he asks, hopefully.

‘Nope.’

****

‘You’re going to get sunburn,’ you tell Jungkook. ‘You don’t really need to do that shirtless.’

Jungkook’s trying to catch fish in the small stream you’d found whilst exploring.

‘I don’t mind if you stare at me,’ he says, generous.

You roll your eyes so hard you make yourself dizzy.

Jungkook sings to himself as he looks into the water.

His voice is higher than you expected considering the way he’s always growling at you, his tone pretty. He carries a tune surprisingly well.

‘You’re scaring the fish,’ you say, sourly.

‘Come and help me then,’ Jungkook says.

You slip off your jeans and step into the stream with him.

‘I bet I can catch one before you,’ you taunt.

He doesn’t answer, and you realise he’s staring at your legs.

‘Fuck,’ he says, finally. ‘Are those pink panties?’

You scowl and ignore him.

‘You’re making me uncomfortable,’ you tell him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he apologises immediately.

You go back to staring into the water, staying perfectly still. A silvery body skims past your legs, and you reach down quickly and grab it.

The sliminess of the cold scales makes you gag a little, but you hold on tight.

You take a few steps to the bank and slip on the wet grass, landing hard on your elbow.

Jungkook’s next to you in seconds. ‘Are you ok?’ he asks, concern in his voice.

You loosen your grip on the fish and it flops on the grass.

Jungkook’s hand is curled around your elbow, cupping it.

Like this, his bare chest is inches above yours, his face tipped so close to you that you realise you’re holding your breath.

‘Y/N,’ Jungkook says, eyes intent on you. ‘Are you hurt?’

You swallow. ‘I’m ok,’ you say.

Jungkook smooths your hair away from your face.

It’s surprisingly tender.

‘Well done on catching the fish for us,’ he says, voice low.

‘Who said I was sharing?’ you ask, frowning a little.

Jungkook just laughs softly. ‘You’re so fucking cute.’

You realise his thigh is wedged between your bare legs, high up, and your t-shirt has ridden up.

Jungkook follows the direction of your gaze.

He swallows, and you brace for sexual harrassment.

Instead, he tugs the hem of your t-shirt down and gets up, turning away from you quickly.

‘Let’s try and catch more,’ he says.

***

The fire that Jungkook’s started is pathetic but it’s enough to give you light in the dark now the sun’s setting but also more importantly, it’s enough to make your fish less raw.

You’re wondering where Jungkook is because your stomach feels like it’s digesting itself at the smell of the cooking fish.

He approaches you from the coconut grove, and you try not to watch the way he walks because it’s making you feel a little warm.

His hair’s curling in the humidity, flopping over his eyes. The sun exposure has given his already beautiful skin a glow and damn. Those muscles.

You look at your feet.

‘Here,’ he says. ‘An aperitif.’

You burst out laughing at his goofy expression, and then realise he’s holding out a cracked coconut.

You look at him, wide-eyed. ‘Is this for me?’

‘I promised you I’d crack it open for you,’ he says.

You tilt the coconut over your mouth and moan at the explosion of cool sweet juice that runs down your throat.

‘Jungkook,’ you say, delightedly.

He’s looking at you, almost shy.

You smile up at him. ‘Thank you.’

You offer it to him, but he shakes his head. ‘It’s all yours. I love how happy you look right now.’

Your eyes fly to his, but he seems perfectly sincere.

‘Thank you for taking care of me,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry I was such an asshole when I woke up.’

‘I couldn’t leave you to die, Jeon Jungkook from Busan,’ you tell him.

‘I’ll crack open as many coconuts as you want, Y/N L/N,’ Jungkook tells you.

He grins, crookedly at you. ‘Let’s eat.’

****

Jungkook takes a swig of your whiskey and lays back to look at the stars with you.

‘Do you think help is on the way?’ you ask. The alcohol is making you feel strangely sober.

‘I’m sure it is,’ he says, and he’s so convincing it’s hard not to believe him.

His skin gleams in the glow from the dying embers, flushed a pretty pink from the whiskey.

‘We should make a shelter,’ you muse. ‘We’ve been lucky so far but if it rains we’re screwed.’

‘We should explore the rest of the island too,’ Jungkook suggests.

You take a sip of whiskey.

‘Maybe tomorrow,’ you say, nodding at him.

He laughs. ‘It’s a date.’

Jungkook leans over you to get the bottle, and for a moment his face is so close to yours you can’t look at him.

He brushes your hair back from your face.

Your skin tingles at his touch.

He murmurs your name.

His breath warms your cheek like a kiss.

His lips press softly against yours, slow, careful. Your lips part, and he kisses your bottom lip, tugging it.

Your heart skips several beats.

Jungkook’s hand slides around the back of your head, pulling you close, deepening the kiss.

It’s electric.

In this wild place, with the disaster you find yourselves in, his touch is everything you need.

You moan into his mouth, and you feel the tension in his body.

‘Y/N,’ he says, quietly. ‘Is this what you want?’

‘Yes,’ you say. He pulls back a little, eyes searching yours.

‘Is this what you want?’ you ask, tentative.

He laughs softly. ‘Shit. You have no idea how much I want this.’

He pushes up the hem of your t-shirt, up past the curve of your abdomen.

‘God, your skin,’ he marvels, big hand splaying over you.

You sit up and slip your t-shirt off, gratified by the way he stops to stare at your breasts.

Jungkook lays fiery kisses over the tops of your breasts, tongue darting out to lick between them.

Your thighs rub against each other, and Jungkook chuckles. ‘Do you want me there?’

You tug him closer. ‘Yeah,’ you say.

He slips a hand under your panties, groaning at the slickness he finds.

You tug his shirt over his head, and revel in the feel of his bare torso against yours.

Jungkook pulls you into his lap, taking control with an authority that surprises and thrills you considering you can barely take him seriously otherwise.

He slants his mouth over yours, grunting a little as you grind against him.

He hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties and tugs.

‘Off,’ he whines.

‘Take yours off, let me see your cock,’ you say, lifting off him just enough to slip your panties down and off one leg.

Jungkook’s obliging about stripping off, you hadn’t expected otherwise. His erection slaps against his abs as he tugs his briefs off.

He curls a hand around himself, mouth slightly open as he takes in your naked body above him.

His eyes meet yours.

‘I have a condom,’ he announces.

You burst out laughing.

‘You really are some sort of fuckboy,’ you say, amused.

He’s already unrolling it over his cock.

‘Come sit,’ he says, hand on your thigh.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

You lower yourself onto him, and the slide’s so good you both moan as you take him in to the hilt, his balls snug against your ass.

He whispers praise for you as you ride him, his hands clutching your ass and thighs, spreading you for him.

You don’t catch much of it, lost in the pleasure of his hardness throbbing inside you, stretching you in the best way.

Jungkook laps at your nipples, seemingly transfixed by the way your tits are bouncing in his face as you ride him.

‘We need to do more of this,’ he pants. ‘So fucking good.’

You want to reply but you cry his name instead as your pleasure peaks and you pulse around his cock.

Jungkook grunts and holds you tight to him as he bucks his hips. His cry as he cums echoes through the still of the night.

He drops his head on your shoulder, panting, sweaty.

‘You’re a great fuck,’ he says, as though he’s bestowing a huge compliment on you.

‘Damn JK, you never said you were such a romantic,’ you say dryly.

He laughs then.

‘It took me ten tries to get that coconut open for you,’ he confesses.

‘I appreciate it,’ you tell him.

‘I’ll do it every day if you want.’

‘You should probably get better at it then,’ you say.

You smile at each other.

‘I’m dripping out the condom,’ Jungkook groans.

‘Can you just stop talking now?’ you complain.

Jungkook snickers and taps your ass.

‘Want to go skinny dipping?’

***

‘Hey what’s that?’ Jungkook calls.

You look at where he’s pointing and see what looks like a man-made structure.

‘Civilisation!’ he whoops, running forward into what looks like a thatched hut.

‘You know what this means?’ you ask. ‘This island must have been inhabited at some point.’

Jungkook’s shuffling his feet along the floor. ‘It’s great not to feel sand or grass. Concrete all the way!’

His enthusiasm is infectious.

You run a hand along the low stone wall like you’ve never felt a wall before.

Jungkook waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

‘I’m pretty strong,’ he tells you.

You roll your eyes. ‘Is everything about sex for you?’

‘Most things,’ Jungkook says, cheerfully.

He runs at you suddenly, picking you up in his arms.

‘Let go,’ you complain. ‘I get it, you’re strong!’

‘Say it again, more breathy this time,’ Jungkook coaches.

‘You’re so strong, Jungkook,’ you say, sultry.

He closes his eyes. ‘Now say more, Jungkook.’

‘More, Jungkook,’ you breathe. ‘More.’

‘Fuck,’ he swears.

You squeeze his arm, and his tricep jerks. ‘Come on, we have more things to find.’

‘Quickie in the sex hut?’ he suggests, hopefully.

‘Don’t call it that,’ you warn.

‘Love shack?’

‘No,’ you say sternly.

‘I have a condom,’ Jungkook coaxes.

‘Christ, how many did you bring on the flight with you?’

He reaches into his pocket like he’s going to count them in front of you.

You put your hand over his.

‘I love that you practise safe sex but now is not the time. We have to keep searching while it’s light.’

He sighs.

‘Are you pouting?’ you demand, tugging his arm so he’ll turn back to you.

‘No,’ he says, pouting.

You go up on your tiptoes against his chest and press a kiss between his collarbones.

‘You’re cute when you’re sulky,’ you inform him.

‘Is it working?’ he asks, eyes sparkling.

‘No. But sulky Jungkook is better than angry Jungkook.’

‘What about horny Jungkook?’ he asks.

‘He’s the best one,’ you say, approving.

You slip out from under his arm as he tries to grab you again.

****

Jungkook returns, triumphant, from the coconut grove.

‘I did one for each of us,’ he says, passing you one.

‘Cheers,’ you say, tapping your coconut against his.

He takes a long gulp of his then leans back onto his hands, looking at you.

His lips glisten juicily, and you lean close and lick up his chin.

He tries to grab you, but you’re already back where you were.

‘What should we order in for dinner tonight?’ you ask, jokingly.

‘I could do a steak,’ Jungkook says, considering. ‘Or ribs.’

He puts an arm around your shoulders.

‘Do you know what the stars are called?’ you ask, leaning your head on his shoulder.

‘No,’ Jungkook replies. He’s not even looking, sticky lips brushing against the skin of your neck.

He hums his approval as you tug him closer.

‘How many condoms do you have left?’

He laughs softly. ‘Let’s put it this way, we’ll run out of food way before I run out of condoms.’

‘There’s always blow jobs,’ you muse.

Jungkook cups a hand over himself. ‘Don’t get my hopes up.’

‘At this rate, I’d blow you for a banana,’ you say.

Jungkook considers this for longer than you expect.

You flick him on the forehead.

‘Are you fantasizing about bananas?’

‘Yeah,’ he says, and you’re still giggling about it when his lips meet yours again.

***

You’re sitting out near the water at sunrise, trying to fight the sense of hopelessness and panic you feel.

There has to be a rescue team on its way, right?

I mean, there definitely would be if it was a big commercial flight.

What about a tiny charter plane?

Someone would have reported that a literal plane fell out of the sky.

Surely.

It’s been days.

Jungkook lands next to you. He’s been running, trying to expend his excess energy.

The man’s got no off switch.

You?

You just feel tired.

‘Maybe today’s the day,’ he says.

You glance at him.

‘Fingers crossed,’ you say, mustering up a cheerfulness you don’t feel.

***

The rainstorm starts without warning. One minute you’re fishing, the next you’re trying to get out of the stream.

You run for the shelter you found.

You can hear Jungkook’s voice in your head calling it the love shack.

You grin wryly to yourself as you hurry towards it.

You strip off your top as you look out for Jungkook. The more sex you’ve had, the more comfortable you feel being practically naked in front of him.

He’d muttered something about finding fruit this morning and you haven’t seen him since.

The rain falls relentlessly, noisily onto the tin roof of the hut.

You’re just about to go looking for him when you see him splashing along.

He bursts into the hut, face frantic.

When he sees you he pulls you into his arms.

You can feel his heart thumping, see the pulse in his neck.

‘Went to the stream. I was worried you’d been swept away in the storm,’ he utters, face against your hair.

‘You were worried about me?’

Your hands are wandering down to the waistband of his sweatpants. You stop when you feel something oddly firm that doesn’t feel quite like his cock.

You’re pretty familiar with his cock.

Jungkook grins down at you.

‘That’s not me,’ he says.

You’re already reaching into his pocket when he says, proudly, ‘you said you’d blow me for a banana.’

You don’t know whether to be amused or annoyed with him.

All you know is, he looks pretty fucking good smiling down at you, wet hair in his face, tee plastered to his beautiful body.

His eyes darken as he takes in your half-naked body.

‘I’m pretty wet,’ you tell him.

‘Yeah?’ Jungkook says.

He’s pressing you against the wall, hard chest against yours.

He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is.

Your panties are shoved down unceremoniously.

Jungkook spits into his hand and shoves his fingers against your cunt.

You aren’t quite wet enough yet, but you know he’ll get you there.

‘Just get in me,’ you say, mouth against his ear.

You lift your leg and he grabs your thigh, pinning it against his hip.

He lines himself up and pushes in, hard, rough.

‘Fuck,’ you moan. He feels hard, hot and the stretch is exquisite.

Jungkook’s concentrating, brows furrowed as he thrusts.

He feels so good you could scream.

He squeezes your ass, kneading roughly, grunting as he fucks you.

You realise your mouth is open against his skin, and you bite his neck, a spot you know he’s sensitive.

‘Fuck,’ whines Jungkook. ‘Fuck.’

His hips circle once, twice, and then he’s slamming himself into you.

Your orgasm hits fast and intense, making your knees buckle.

Jungkook cups your ass in his hand, squeezing tight.

He says your name when he cums.

And then you’re leaning against each other, sweating and panting.

Jungkook’s first to recover.

‘Snack?’ he offers, holding out the banana to you.

‘Yeah.’

You’re eating your bananas, sitting next to each other on the low wall, watching the rain, when you turn to him.

‘We didn’t use a condom,’ you say.

‘I’m clean,’ he replies, so quickly you know it’s occurred to him too.

‘I am too.’

You’re quiet a moment, then he says, ‘my mom keeps hassling me about grandkids.’

You mull that over as you finish your banana.

‘It’s not the right time of the month for it, for me,’ you say, considering.

‘Ok,’ says Jungkook. ‘I just mean, I’ll — take responsibility.’

His sentence hangs in the air between you.

You turn and kiss him on the cheek, quickly.

‘You’re an asshole sweetheart, Jungkook.’

You exchange a smile and finish the rest of your bananas in silence.

***

‘Fuck,’ says Jungkook. ‘Is that a snake?’

You’re up and dancing instantly. ‘Where?’

Jungkook’s up too. ‘There!’

You follow the direction he’s pointing in and see it.

It’s black with yellow markings, it’s long, and it is most definitely a snake.

You swallow your scream with effort.

‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,’ Jungkook says.

He grabs your hand and you run out near the water’s edge.

‘Fuck,’ breathes Jungkook.

‘What?’ you ask, scrambling up his body.

Jungkook steadies you, hands supporting your ass, helping you wrap your legs around his hips.

‘It’s a chopper.’

***

It’s a chopper ride, another plane journey and a bus, another day or so before you arrive in Seoul.

You and Jungkook hold hands for most of the bus journey.

You’re met by your families at the bus terminal.

Your father brings the car round to take you home and you look for Jungkook to say goodbye.

You don’t see him at first, and a sick feeling unfolds in the pit of your stomach. It can’t end like this.

Then you spot him. He’s looking around, like you, and when your eyes meet his smile could stop your heart.

You’re heading towards each other, and the closer you get the better it feels. Like returning to baseline.

You stop too close to him, so close you have to tilt your head to look up at him.

‘You wanna get steak sometime?’ you ask.

You’re normally shy about asking guys out, but he’s not just a guy.

He’s Jungkook, and though you wouldn’t necessarily have chosen him as your desert island pick, you don’t think you could have been stranded with anyone better.

He laughs. ‘That’s better than what I was gonna say.’

You tilt your head at him, curious. ‘What were you going to say?’

‘I was gonna say you still owe me a blow job for that banana.’

You both freeze as an elderly lady passes by. She gives you a kindly smile.

‘That’s my grandma,’ says Jungkook, and you’re amused to see the flush in his cheeks.

‘Thank god she’s pretty hard of hearing.’

You giggle.

‘I’ll call you, pretty girl,’ says Jungkook. He leans down to kiss you, chaste.

His hand brushes the small of your back, then sneaks down to squeeze your ass.

You try to slap him away but he’s already shoved his hand back in his pocket.

‘Don’t dream of me too much,’ he says.

You roll your eyes and turn. His laughter rings in your ears as you walk away.

***

You’re nervous.

Objectively, you know you look good, better than your sunburned, bedraggled self on the island, but the butterflies in your stomach won’t stop.

You’re meeting Jungkook for dinner tonight. It’s been two months since you parted ways at the bus terminal.

You’d meant to meet sooner, but life had got in the way. Two weeks had turned into six, and now you’re half expecting him to cancel on you.

It’s been long enough that you’re questioning everything you experienced.

Sure, the sex was mind-blowing.

Sure, you seemed to get on ok, but maybe it was just because he wanted to get his dick wet just in case you didn’t get rescued.

You remember his eyes flashing when he’d accused you of not trying hard enough to get help whilst he’d been unconscious.

The contempt in his eyes when he’d asked you if you’d been ‘playing house.’

You also remember him telling you, quietly and seriously, that he was Jeon Jungkook from Busan, with three dogs, when you’d both thought you were going to die.

You remember the relief on his face when he’d run back to the hut and seen you were safe.

You remember how he gasped your name as he came inside you during the rainstorm.

You have no idea how tonight’s going to go.

You think you get to the restaurant early, but the hostess informs you that Mr Jeon is already waiting at the bar.

You have a sudden flare of anxiety as you’re looking for him that you might not recognise him.

That he might not recognise you.

He sees you first, he’s already getting up from his bar stool when you spot him.

‘Hey,’ he says, smiling warmly at you.

‘Hi,’ you say, a little awkwardly.

His eyes skim over your black dress, the heels you’d agonised over.

You hadn’t wanted to look like you were trying too hard.

Just in case none of it meant anything to him.

‘You look pretty,’ he says.

‘Thanks,’ you reply, ‘you look great.’

He does. He’s gained back some of the weight he lost on the island, his tan’s faded to a pale gold, and his eyes are bright.

‘Shall we?’ he asks, holding out his arm.

***

Your meet-up with Jungkook isn’t going well. You can’t find any common ground.

You’ve resorted to chatting about the weather.

He’s been, none too subtly, checking out your tits.

Everything seems wrong.

You guess you must have been remembering everything wrong, because at this rate, you’ll probably never speak again.

You’re so disappointed you could cry.

Here’s the man you survived a plane crash with. You’d survived being stranded on a deserted island.

Now you’re watching him chew on ribeye and even the meat doesn’t live up to your expectations.

The only saving grace is that you sense he’s as frustrated as you are.

There’s a furrow between his brows, that’s got deeper as the night goes on.

You’re leaning back on your chair, further away from him when all you’ve wanted for the past two months is to touch him again.

You’re completely disconnected from him.

In fact, you’re so far apart it’s like you’re not even in the same room.

You insist on splitting the check.

Neither of you suggests dessert.

You hug him awkwardly as you part ways.

‘See you, Jungkook.’

You muster the best smile you have because you suspect this is the last time you’ll make plans to meet and you can’t bear for his last impression of you to be anything but amicable.

Not after everything you’ve been through together.

You turn away and walk down the street.

You can’t help it.

You turn back once just to see him one last time.

He’s standing where you left him. He’s looking at you too.

Your eyes meet, and you feel it.

He’s heading towards you now, hurrying, almost running along the crowded city pavement.

His breath comes out in puffs of white when he reaches you, the tip of his nose pink from the cold.

He’s reaching out, arms wrapping around you, pulling you into him.

‘What the fuck was that?’ he gasps, lips against your hair. ‘What the fuck was that?’

You’re already curling your arms around him in turn, pressing your face into his neck.

‘Jungkook,’ you breathe.

‘Y/N,’ he replies, tilting your head up, resting his forehead against yours.

And just like that, everything snaps into focus again. The lights from the street lamps, the sounds of traffic, the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

It’s as sweet as you remember.

***

Jungkook’s apartment is dark, but he doesn’t switch the lights on.

He drops his keys on a table near the door, and in almost the same movement, he’s turned back to you.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he says.

His hot mouth descends onto yours. The kiss is rushed, sloppy, like he can’t even pull himself together enough to kiss you properly.

You aren’t doing much better. He pushes his thigh between your legs, and your clit’s already so sensitive you could come just from that.

‘Jungkook,’ you plead.

‘I know, baby,’ he soothes.

His hands tug uselessly at your dress, and you turn quickly so he can get your zip.

Instead, he yanks up the skirt of your dress and grinds his erection against your ass.

‘Can I?’ he gasps.

‘Yeah,’ you moan. ‘Yeah, now.’

Jungkook’s inside you before you finish speaking.

‘Ahhh fuck,’ he moans, long and loud.

You arch your back, and his arm tightens around your hips, pulling you back into him, snugger onto his cock.

You cry his name as he fucks you against the door of his apartment, desperately, frantically.

‘Gonna cum, I can’t —-‘

You’re already there, one brush of your own fingers over his and you’re tightening around him, screaming his name as you cum.

Jungkool groans, deep in his chest, and you feel him spilling inside you.

There’s so much of him it leaks down your thighs.

‘Fuck,’ he says, head dropping onto your shoulder. ‘Did I hurt you?’

You’re too fucked out to answer, and a moment later he’s trying to turn you to face him.

‘No,’ you say, reaching back to grab his hips. ‘Stay in me for a bit.’

Jungkook’s arms tighten around you.

‘I’ve fucking missed you,’ he tells you.

‘I’ve missed you too, JK.’

He holds you like that until you both start shivering from the cold and decide to move to his bed.

***

Jungkook’s tracing the line of your cheek with his finger.

You think it’d be more romantic if your lips weren’t currently wrapped around his cock.

He gasps as you press your tongue to the underside of him, and take him in deeper.

He taps your chin. ‘Up.’

You look up at him, mouth full of his cock, and he groans. ‘Fuck! You look so good.’

He’s pulling you up though, off of him, pushing you back against his surprisingly clean bed.

You turn your face into his sheets as he slips his fingers into you.

‘Still so wet,’ he marvels.

‘It’s your cum,’ you remind him.

‘Yeah. Let me eat it out of you.’

He presses your legs apart and proceeds to lick you out until you’re coming apart on his face.

***

You wake sometime between midnight and the early hours, curled into Jungkook’s chest like how you used to sleep on the island.

He’s pressing kisses against your bare back.

You wriggle your ass against his groin.

He slips into you easily, like he’s always belonged inside you.

He rocks his hips against your ass, his hands coming up to pinch your nipples.

You’re so wet already, you can’t even recall whether it’s Jungkook’s cum or your own arousal.

You whine his name, and he turns you onto your front.

‘One more,’ he says, squeezing your ass. ‘One more for me.’

He fucks into you like he can’t get enough, fucking you through your orgasm, pulling out at the last second to paint your ass.

You should get cleaned up, but Jungkook falls asleep with his cock nestled between your ass cheeks, and you haven’t the willpower to pull away from his warmth.

You’ve been through worse together.

***

Three years later

Jungkook walks into the bedroom, and your attention is drawn to the outlandish bulge in his sweats.

Your boyfriend’s not lacking in the size department, but this is something else.

You raise an eyebrow as he climbs onto the bed where you’re lying down.

‘I have something for you.’

‘Is it from the produce department?’ you inquire, unable to tear your eyes away from his groin.

‘Find out for yourself,’ Jungkook says.

You sigh as you reach into his pants.

Your hands graze over what is definitely at least a semi, and then the smooth skin of a banana.

‘If you wanted a blow job, JK —-‘

You break off when you see what’s written on the banana, in Jungkook’s neat and precise writing.

Marry me.

‘No,’ you say.

His happy smile falters.

‘Why not?’

‘No way. I’m not marrying some clown who proposes to me with a banana in his pants.’

Jungkook smirks, smugly.

‘I knew you’d say that.’

He cups your face in his hands.

‘Y/N, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?’

It’s oddly conventional, but he seems totally sincere.

At least it’s not like the previous three times he’d asked, whilst balls deep inside you.

‘I’d love to marry you, Jungkook.’

He kisses you, long and sweet.

‘No takesies backsies.’

‘I take it ba—-‘

He stops you with another kiss.

Then another.

He stops kissing you long enough to present you with a rather beautiful ring.

***

The wedding is going so smoothly it’s making you feel a little jittery.

The venue is beautifully decorated, the guests well-behaved so far.

The wedding party is all accounted for.

Your dress fits like a dream.

All of your and Jungkook’s extended family have managed to fly in to attend.

You stop at the top of the aisle, and the expression on Jungkook’s face is so tender it makes tears prick at your eyelids.

Jungkook holds your hands against his chest as he recites his vows.

‘I feel like I was given another chance to live my life, and I can’t imagine doing that without you by my side. Your courage makes me feel grateful every day.’

There’s a sudden spark of mischief in his eyes, and you know him so well you’re already pulling him into a kiss before he says, ‘and you’re a great f—‘

Your lips catch the swear word he was about to say in front of the marriage officiator and all your friends and family.

Jeon Jungkook’s always been a fucking liability.

But damn, you love him anyway.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #btscarnivalnet #jungkook fic

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alwritey-aphrodite · 10 months

Note

#20 for hand holding? (pressing the other’s hand against their cheek) with roy and mayhaps a love confession 👀 many many thanks <3

There was this cute little habit you had of working until you dropped. There was nothing that would stop you from putting out work that you were 100% proud of, including whatever bug you were currently fighting off.

As much as you would have loved to work from home, there was no way you could lug your desktop from Nelson Road to your apartment on the tube, so instead of staying cozy in your bed, you used the spare set of keys Rebecca had given you to sneak into the office after every had gone home.

Everyone except Roy, apparently.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks from your doorway and you could swear your heart stopped.

“Jesus, Roy, you scared me to death,” you tell him, turning your attention back to your computer so you can finish your work and return home as quickly as possible.

“If anything’s brought you closer to death, it’s that cold.”

“‘M fine,” you lie through your nasally voice, trying not to sniffle too noticeably.

“Go home.”

“I have to finish this,” and it’s really taking all of your willpower to not get up and go home at Roy’s request. As much as you tried, you can’t stop thinking of your comfortable bed or warm pajamas or relaxing tea.

Roy was a distraction, and not just because he was mentioning your cozy apartment. His beard had grown longer and his hair had gotten fluffier and he truly looked like the dictionary definition of cozy. Really, what you wanted most of all was to cuddle up with him in your comfortable bed and your warm pajamas while drinking relaxing tea, but that would never happen.

“You’re fucking burning up,” he grumbles as he places the back of his hand to your forehead and you try not to lean into it.

“No I’m not,” you counter, pressing one of your own hands to your cheek, and even though you definitely feel a little warm, you’d never admit that to Roy.

“Yes you fucking are,” before you can blink, Roy is taking hold of your other hand and pressing it against his own bearded cheek, “this is what a normal fucking body temperature feels like.” He’s freezing, and you wonder if he’d keep you cool while you cuddled.

You’re absolutely dumbstruck, and you know you’re not hiding it very well. Your hand is still pressed against his face and you’d be happy if you stayed like that forever. Unfortunately, your body decides now is the time to sneeze, so you pull yourself away from Roy as quickly as possible.

“Please let me drive you home,” he says, sounding uncharacteristically soft, “and call in tomorrow. If I see you, I’ll fucking drive you back.” You can’t help but to huff out a laugh as you shutdown your computer and pack up the few belongings you’d brought with you. You’re not thinking about your own car, but you’ll just have to come and pick it up later because there’s no way you’re passing up an opportunity to spend a few more minutes with Roy.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you say as you settle into the passenger’s seat and fight off the sleep that your body desperately needs.

“Anything for you,” he whispers back, wishing you knew just how much he meant it.

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #500 follower extravaganza!!

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aehyei · 2 years

Text

THE INCIDENT FROM LAST YEAR THAT WE SHOULD NOT NAME…day nine in 30 days and nights with na jaemin.

📌 MENTIONS OF JAEMIN MASTURBATING AND GETTING CAUGHT BY THE DREAMIES !!

pairing: boyfriend!njm x reader, genre: fluff, established relationship!au, smut

TAG LIST FOR THE SERIES: @bubblegumjeon @dayandnighthyuck @airpodbaekuwu @sunshine-skz @jaeymark @luvrboyjeno @sunshinedhyuck @thiccfullsun @baehaechannie @champagne-n-yachts @bitchenderyy @frickyratz @haebragi + if you want to be included, please reply on the original post!

“IT’S ALMSOT JAEMIN’S BIRTHDAY.”

“I know that.”

“Jeno, you’re his best friend!”

“And you’re the girlfriend!” Jeno argued back. You huffed, thinking of a new comeback but no other words came out of your mouth. Mark sighed and situated himself to sit between you and Jeno to make sure no bloodshed would be made. “Alright, we’ve established that it is, in fact, Jaemin’s birthday. And we’ve also established that Y/n, you’re his girlfriend and you, Jeno, is his best friend. Any ideas?”

“We could throw a surprise party.” Jisung suggested with a shrug, continuing to solve his rubik's cube.

“Didn’t we do that last year and remember how awkward it was?” Chenle reminded everyone, making you let out a fake cough as you uncomfortably looked away when you felt everyone’s eyes on you.

Last year’s birthday was supposed to be fine—well, at first it was. You and the Dreamies were already hidden across Jaemin’s apartment, ready to surprise him, but your boyfriend came home all bothered and horny.

You could not believe your eyes and ears when you watched him open pornhub on his desktop and tug himself out of his pants, moaning your name quite loudly.

It was only when Chenle and Jisung screamed that Jaemin was finally able to realize that all his friends, including his girlfriend, were in his home.

“Never. Again.” Haechan emphasized, shivering at the memory.

“Alright, well…any other ideas?”

“How about a surprise vacation? August 13 is on Saturday, and we can be absent for two days until Sunday. There’s nothing to do anyways.” Renjun frowned and grabbed the rubik’s cube from Jisung, solving it with pure ease.

Mark nodded, smiling, “That’s actually a good idea. Also, we’ve all been stressed out the past few months, we all need this vacation. Chenle, your family owns a private island, right?”

“Yeah. I could contact my brother. He owes me a favor.”

You smiled, clapping your hands excitedly, “Great! I’ll surprise Jaem later so we can all pack and get ready tomorrow.”

“Oh, and Y/n? Can you do all of us a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Please fuck with him as much as you can later or even tomorrow. I swear, if any of you guys try to do any shit on this vacation I will—“

“Okay!” Mark cuts Renjun off and claps his hands. “That’s settled. But on a serious note, please Y/n?”

You groan and hide your face out of embarrassment. You just could not believe you’re having this kind of conversation with them. “I-I’ll uh, try my best.”

“And can you tell me the details? Better yet show me clips—“

“Donghyuck!” Everyone screeched.

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shararan · 6 months

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I can't wait until I fix a better desktop because I swear it's so hard when things look completely different (worse) on my phone screen and the colors looks completely off and then a couple days later I realize it did NOT look that bad I just had no way of comprehending that when the better screen didnt match what I thought I was doing on my bad one <333

Which is also why I dread colors and lighting since I can't tell what I'm doing, but then I realize it did turn out fine actually help--

#first ones a wip screen and the second one is the first version before i opted for second one #not gonna make its own separate post for it though so do bear with me #im so mad that I can't relax while drawing because of it though #2024........ please be my year #my art #sharan talks #svsss #luo binghe #luo bingge #scum villains self saving system #scum villain #mxtx

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notemily · 1 year

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actual guide for new tumblr users, from Twitter or otherwise

yeah so I decided to do one of these. I'm just someone who has been here since 2007 and wants to help people who are new to the site and have no idea what's happening. Twitter seems to be in its death throes as I write this, and while the posts about driving down the property values are funny, I'd like to actually try and help out.

many people have made posts that are like "get an icon and post something or else people will think you're a bot" so I'll just assume you've seen one of those already. I want to focus more on the things you need to know to acclimate to tumblr culture. so:

general tips:

like things if you want to like things. people will tell you liking doesn't do anything, that only reblogs do stuff, but that's not quite true. only reblogs will get the people who follow you to see it on their dashboard (circulating the post further through the tumblr ecosystem), but likes will let the OP know you liked it, let the person who reblogged it onto your dash know you liked it, and probably do something complicated involving the "based on your likes" algorithm but I really don't know how that works. also, the like will stick around, so if you see the post reblogged from someone else much later, your little heart will still be highlighted in red.

you can control a lot about what you see on your dashboard from the settings page! on desktop, go into settings - account and settings - dashboard to change things. most people turn off "best stuff first" and just use the chronological feed, but you do you, new user. I personally hate endless scroll, so I turned that off, but I love timestamps, so I turned those on. for bonus fun, go into settings - labs and there are extra tabs you can add to your dash.

but what about turning off anonymous asks? on desktop, this setting, weirdly, is in the "Edit appearance" page for your blog. you can also turn replies off there, allow only people you follow to message you, and hide your blog from search results. there are a lot of random settings in there, so make sure to take a look. (app results may vary.)

you might notice that one of the settings is for filtered tags and filtered post content. this is why it's important not to censor things here that might be triggering for some folks - because someone out there has "rape" filtered, and if you go around saying "r*pe," that's not going to be caught in their filter. also, at this time there are no word police who will come after you for saying "kill" or "die," so you don't need to use euphemisms like "unalive" on tumblr. you can also swear as much as you want.

blaze: tumblr blaze is a relatively new feature where you can pay actual money to have your post forced onto random people's dashboards. beware, if you use this for something people don't want to see, you will get mocked. if you use it to show everyone your cat, you're probably fine.

there are two basic uses for #tags: organizational (putting your post into a category, like tagging it with the name of the fandom it's relevant to) and editorial (adding extra commentary that you don't want to add in the post itself). a lot of people will use both, a lot of people will use neither. when people like your editorial tags enough, they'll copy or screenshot them and add them to the body of the post. this is known as "passing peer review" and is a compliment.

memes and inside jokes You Should Know:

do you love the colour of the sky? is an extremely long image post (showing all the colors a sky could possibly be) that takes a long time to scroll past, and back in the olden days (2012) it was ubiquitous on tumblr. these days you can shorten long posts automatically using your dashboard settings (see above), or use the "j" keyboard shortcut to go directly to the next post if you're on desktop, but we still remember it fondly and refer to it constantly because nothing dies here, especially not memes.

the color theory children's hospital post is another one of those things you'll see a million references to if you're on here for any length of time.

you cannot kill me in a way that matters is a post that you might have seen in screenshots elsewhere online, but it started here! other memes that originated on tumblr: spiders georg, me an intellectual, graphic design is my passion, etc.

blorbo from my shows is a phrase used to refer to your latest favorite character. it started as a joke, but tumblr has a way of taking jokes and making them a thing, so now it's a thing. see also poor little meow meow.

tumblr holidays: anything people on tumblr can make into a holiday or anniversary, we will. most of them you'll see as they happen, and they're often self-explanatory, but you should probably read up on November 5 2020 if you don't know about it already.

horse plinko: tumblr loves this one for some reason.

I like your shoelaces / thanks, I stole them from the president: this was supposedly the "secret code" to identify a tumblr user in real life. (you can buy shoelaces directly from tumblr now, but that's a recent development.)

then perish: speaking of the president, if you see Obama's eyes with a very orange tint, this is the meme it's referencing.

ball-shaving ads: ads from the personal grooming company Manscaped were/are(?) ubiquitous on tumblr, to the point that some have theorized that tumblr was deliberately saturating people's dash with the ads so that they'd be more likely to pay for ad-free browsing. and one of the ads for ad-free reads "shave off ads from your dashboard," so like, they might be onto something.

world heritage posts: there are various tumblrs that compile the best of tumblr, anything that's particularly iconic or has become a meme. there are even heritage post blogs for specific fandoms.

tumblr history:

there are three basic eras of tumblr history:

classic tumblr era 2007-2013: David Karp started tumblr in 2007, and it grew in popularity and weirdness for many years. porn was allowed: the original tumblr adult content policy read "sure, go nuts, show nuts, whatever."

Yahoo/Verizon era 2013-2019: Yahoo famously bought tumblr in 2013 for $1 billion. ads started showing up on tumblr in 2012, so this is also around when tumblr started to monetize. Yahoo was eventually bought by Verizon, and in December 2018, they announced they were banning porn, which sucked. everyone predicted the death of tumblr, but it limped on, with about a 30% decrease in traffic. (source for that statistic)

Automattic era 2019-present: in 2019, Automattic bought tumblr from Yahoo for like $3 million or something. Automattic owns WordPress, and they seem to understand tumblr's userbase better than the Yahoo folks did. they've recently instituted a more nuanced adult content policy, but because of Apple's strict policy for what gets included in the App Store, credit card processors refusing to process payments for porn, and other restrictions, tumblr can't go back to being the porn-allowed free-for-all it once was. see this post for a full explanation of why.

various April Fool's jokes have included Coppy (2015), Mishapocalypse (2013), and most recently, the button that makes crabs. expect April 1st to be extra chaotic on tumblr.

Tumbeasts - the tumblr version of the Twitter Fail Whale, designed by Matthew Inman of the Oatmeal. not sure if they're extinct now, or if the site just doesn't go down like it used to.

Dashcon - tumblr tried to have a convention once. it didn't go well. the photo with the sad ball pit is used as shorthand to reference the disaster that was Dashcon.

SuperWhoLock is a name for the fandom crossover between Supernatural, Doctor Who, and Sherlock, which were all juggernauts on tumblr at one time. the fandom supposedly "died off" after 2014, but see above re: nothing dies here.

female presenting nipples - when tumblr introduced the Porn Ban in 2018, they used this phrase in the community guidelines. they've since updated their nudity policy, but the phrase will live forever, because come on, tumblr is a website full of queer and/or trans folks. if you think you're getting away with a weasel phrase like "female presenting nipples" without being mocked all over the website, you're extremely wrong.

John Green: an author who used to be on tumblr, back when you could edit someone else's tumblr post when you reblogged it. his text posts were regularly edited to make it look like he had said things he didn't. someone edited one of his posts to be about how much he loves a certain sex act, which was probably not THE reason they removed the ability to edit others' posts, but like, it didn't help. John Green was eventually harassed so much he left tumblr. opinions are divided on whether this was hilarious or sad. (something I discovered while researching for this post: the author of the Your Fave Is Problematic tumblr [which was part of the wave of anti-John Green content] wrote a confessional New York Times article in 2021. pull quote: "I just wanted to see someone face consequences; no one who'd hurt me ever had.")

XKit: used to be THE browser extension for tumblr. it was made by "the xkit guy," who seems to have been harassed off the site in 2015. the extension was replaced by New XKit, which worked for a while. these days a lot of XKit's features have been either rendered obsolete by tumblr adding them to its settings, or broken by tumblr interface updates, and the new hotness is XKit Rewritten. want to block a specific post from ever appearing on your dash, see who your mutuals are, stop seeing notifications on one specific post (great feature for if you accidentally go viral)? install it and play around with the settings. there are accessibility features too!

...and now I've made it look like people regularly get harassed off tumblr. WELCOME, NEW USER, TO THE HELLSITE! but for real, part of why I put this post together was so if someone starts in on tumblr Discourse and mentions people who have been harassed off the site, you can nod wisely and go "ah, yes, I have heard tell of this." just to give you some kind of context for things.

anyway, I'm always happy to Explain The Joke, provided it's a joke that I get, so if you see something that looks like a tumblr in-joke and want context, my ask box is open. just don't ask me about Homestuck. I know nothing about Homestuck and at this point I'm not sure I want to.

in conclusion, new user: go forth, be weird, become a part of the culture. I hope this guide has helped!

#anyone who tells me queer is a slur will be blocked #welcome to tumblr #the weird site for weirdos #twitter migration #twitter refugees #twitter exodus #how to tumblr #long post #tumblr history #i feel like i haven't seen a manscaped ad in a while #but they were everywhere less than a year ago #my posts

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canonbirthdaywish · 8 months

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hello and welcome to canon birthday wish! this is a blog for alterhumans from fictional sources to wish themselves or other characters from their source a happy birthday! rules and other stuff can be found below the cut.

rules + notes

this blog is for canon birthday wishes only. if you're looking for kin help or canon calls, please refer to one of the many blogs made for that purpose. if you're wanting to submit a generalized confession, check out @/fictionkinfessions, where the idea for this blog came from. any asks that are not birthday wishes will be deleted (with the exception of comments / questions directed toward a mod).

wishes for fictionkin, fictives, copinglinks, and similar identities are welcome, including characters that don't have specific canon birthdays. keep it to fictional sources, please. you can submit a birthday wish for yourself or someone else. please do not mention blog urls or ask me to tag a blog — if your wish is for someone specific and you want them to see it, simply dm them or tag them yourself in a reblog or comment.

if you've sent a submission before the mentioned character's birthday and want it posted on that day, please mention that at the beginning of your ask (ie: "(post on september 12th)" before your actual message). i'll get it scheduled for the correct day.

all characters from all sources are welcome here, there is currently no blacklist. please keep submissions as pg-13 as possible — swearing is fine, but no nsfw content or violence (even as a joke) unless it's very vague. slurs, discrimination, etc will not be tolerated under any circumstances. specifically mentioning your character and source is not required, but helps a lot with tagging.

mods

there's currently only one mod, and i most likely won't be looking for more unless things get overwhelming. for the sake of this blog, you can call me cat. my pronouns are he/it. i'm an adult, transmasc nonbinary + gay, white, and a singlet. i won't be listing my full kinlist here in case anyone is uncomfortable with doubles. i exclusively use tumblr mobile, so i apologize if anything looks wonky on desktop.

etc

header credit: here. icon is a screencap of cat valentine from the show victorious.

this post will most likely be updated as time goes on. if there's been a big update, i'll either make a separate post mentioning it, or put a note above the cut.

#pinned

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tswwwit · 1 year

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Trick or treat 🎃👻

A bit belated, but take some post-Bill vs Bill stuff I never completed!

Dipper’s hip hits the desk with a painful ‘thunk’, he stumbles - and smacks a palm on the surface to steady himself.

“Shit.” Dipper says, and shuts his eyes. He’s breathing harder than he’d like.

SIlence.

Dipper swallows. Heart pounding.

He doesn't hear anything beyond his own harsh breathing. He needs to control that.

Dumb. Stupid. He didn’t mean to pull away that fast, or at all, he flinched and he's dumb and now there's a dull pain in his hip. Idiot.

That Bill’s gone. For good. The doppelganger left this world more beaten up than Dipper’s ever seen a shape demon, courtesy of his own. It’s fine.

Dipper focuses on controlling his breathing. After a second or two, it’s manageable.

He looks up, trying to smile -

Where Bill is frozen in place. Perfectly still, like a statue. Even his face is like ice, and his eye dully glows.

One of his hands hangs in midair, fingers still half-curled to cup Dipper’s cheek.

“Sorry,” Dipper blurts, only to instantly realize that isn’t helping, as the last fragment of Bill’s smile vanishes from his face. “...Shit.”

Apologizing is pointless. It doesn’t change anything. He just needs to -

Breathe in, and out. Calming down, slowly. Dipper rubs at his eyes.

Okay. He’s got this. That was just a momentary reaction, out of instinct. Honestly, he’s had way worse treatment from other beings, so. Startling, just for a moment, isn’t a big deal.

This isn’t that guy. This is his Bill. Who’s different.

Just… between the face and the hand, moving so fast, together, it.

He reacted.

Damn it, Dipper knows better. He should have an instinct for it, there’s a bond right there to check. Stupid, again. He should be better than this, he’s used to surprises.

Bill’s eye darts down to his hand, then up to Dipper’s face. His arm draws back down, slowly. The hand turned palm up, fingers flexing. For a moment, Bill stares at it like he hasn’t seen it before.

Wait, no. Dipper’s fine. Bill can keep going. He shouldn’t -

In the awkward silence, Dipper realizes there’s a glass on the desk. It’s full of water, shaking around with a clatter.

He glances down, where his own clenched fist is trembling on the desktop - then jerks his arm back up against his chest, and swears again.

...Bill still hasn’t said anything.

Dipper forces his arms to his sides. He straightens up. Bill’s almost statuesque, now. No sign of a grin, no sign of anger, though Dipper can almost feel it, surging somewhere inside that demon. And he’s not wrong to hold back, except - he absolutely is, and -

And.

This sucks. Like, a lot.

Bill not doing anything is. Okay, Dipper guesses - but him not even saying anything is arguably worse. Any other time, he’d get teased about the flinch. Or Bill would grab at him, just to see it again, pinch his sides or his cheeks, he’d even surge forward like a jumpscare. It always sends Dipper’s heart racing.

Bill hasn’t moved, except to hold his arms stiffly at his sides. His shoulders are tense.

Heat always radiates off Bill - but now there’s magic there, too. Bill’s holding himself back, in multiple ways. The strain would be invisible to anyone who didn’t know him so well. Dipper can sense the potential for flame, ready to burst - and barely restrained.

And Dipper’s…

Okay. he had a moment.

But it was just a moment. He doesn’t want Bill to pull away right now, though that’s technically human-correct. Why did Bill have to pick now, of all times, to remember what’s appropriate. He never cares about that.

If anything, Dipper could actually really use one of those demonically too-tight hugs - but Bill’s not offering one right now, and that’s really not helping.

He clutches his arm against his chest. He’s not sure what to say.

That interdimensional interloper really threw a wrench into things. Didn’t he. Dipper should have figured. It’s what Bills do.

Now, they have to… sort all of that out. Good thing he’s used to his own, human side of it.

When Bill won’t do the right thing, someone else has to do it for him.

Dipper takes a breath. Forcing his hand to lie flat against the desk.

Then he straightens up, surges forward, and tugs his idiot husband into his arms. Bill lets out an ‘oof’ of sound, slightly surprised.

Dipper squeezes more, just to hear Bill huff out a breath again, and shuts his eyes.

Yeah. This is better. Bill’s warm and solid, his breathing slow. There’s the thud of the heart, too - low and present. Dipper shoves his cheek up against that firm chest. He’s very tense in Dipper’s arms, but the twin rhythms of his not-at-all natural organs are good to hear.

It’s nice. It’s normal. Dipper feels some of his own tension bleed away. As far as either of them can be normal anymore, for their respective versions of it -

Though Bill’s holding his arms up and out. Not hugging back. Dipper squishes him tighter, to no effect.

In facet. He's very deliberately not touching.

"Bill," Dipper speaks up, though his voice is muffled against Bill's shirt. He grabs onto said shirt with both hands, balling it up. "If you don't hug me, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"Well, if you put it that way," Bill responds as easily as if they’d been bantering this entire time. One of his arms comes around Dipper's waist. Light enough to be barely there. "I dunno, sapling. I kinda wanna see how you’d manage what even that guy couldn’t do."

Dipper huffs out a breath against Bill’s shirt, and feels his husband draw him in close. He holds Dipper in the right way; that just-too-tight way that means Bill’s never going to let him escape.

There’s a steady beat in that chest, though the breathing catches for a second. Bill’s warm and solid, and definitely his Bill. The heart beats in that chest, over and over and over. A constant rhythm. The way he moves is the way of someone who really knows Dipper, and the bond is strong and clear and safe.

Dipper breathes in - god, this version even smells right - and finally relaxes.

That counterfeit wasn’t around long, and he still somehow didn’t fit the…. role. In any of the major senses. This is nicer. Better. More comforting. Though Bill wouldn’t admit that that’s something he wants to do, would rebel against the very idea - he manages to accomplish it, despite himself.

One of Bill’s arms stays wrapped around him. The other pats, twice. An awkward gesture, before it slides up and down Dipper’s back. The touch makes him shudder. as the muscles in his back start to unclench.

Bill makes an amused sound, and Dipper swats at him in return. Hell, he’s only human. This, too, might be stupid - but a hug really is making him feel better.

Body contact is a whole thing, and for all that Bill’s intelligent, eternal, and they’ve been together a while - He still seems surprised at the variety of platonic touch.

So Dipper had a bad time. That was a different guy, and he’s definitely gone.

He’ll get over it.

It won’t even take very long.

#I'll throw some tags on this later #answers

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ratcatcher0325 · 1 year

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A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #28)

Alexander is back and he's ready for.... napping. No, no this chapter is interesting, I swear.

Chapter #28. Alexander wakes up from his nap but has a much harder time getting Nat to come to from hers. How will he solve this problem? You guessed it. Through rage and yelling.

Previous: Chapter #27

Next: Chapter #29

Word Count: 6,603 Read Time: Approx. 51 mins

CW: adult language, angst, allusions to medical abuse

Tag list: @gatlily @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007 , @honey-olive , @bittykimmy13 , @aceouttatime , @imvenusasaboy , @liminaldaze , @windshield-patent , @joxter-coded , @rosella35 , @narrans , @rubeau-art , @littlescaryinternetguy , @jae-from-discord , @kitn-underfoot , @secretly-small @writing-forever , @iinogongju , @tales-of-aestus-deactivated2023 , @itsgothgirlthyme , @make-me-giant , @reborrowing , @whatthisfemsheplikes , @soapysoap69

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #28: Rosemary for Remembrance

[Natalie’s POV]

My heart leapt in my chest as I looked over what I’d carefully crafted. Balanced delicately on the aluminum lid of a mason jar, which served as a tray of sorts, was a tiny place setting, complete with a dish I could balance on my pointer finger, a miniature glass of water with a few drops filling it to the brim, a mug of tea, and teeny tiny little utensils, small enough that I had to press the tip of my finger into them to pick them up. Piled high on the plate was a simple, very finely diced, medley of chicken and peppers over an adorably small bed of quinoa. Simple, yet filling and wonderfully displayed in perfect, proportionate miniature just for him. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I revealed it to him. I delicately placed a paper napkin over the top of it all and laid the whole thing in the flat of my hand.

Picking up my own plate, I padded down the hallway, almost giddy like a little kid. I couldn’t deny, it hurt when he’d thrown his little fit about the clothes. I’d been excited for them, how could I have possibly known he expected to dress like freakin Downton Abbey every day? I couldn’t help rolling my eyes as a smile curved my lips, in spite of myself: what a little mess he was. But hey, for all his fussing about clothing, maybe I’d be able to make it up to him with a warm meal. He must’ve been starving at this point.

I paged the door with my side as I slipped into the room, biting my lip to keep from beaming. I’d just opened my mouth to announce that dinner was served when I laid eyes on him.

Instead of finding him fidgeting impatiently in his little desk chair or pouting with his arms crossed on the edge of the bed, face flushed from the horrors of being forced to dress casually, he was fast asleep, splayed out on the right side of his tiny mattress. My heart melted.

I gently laid out two very differently sized place settings down on the surface of the vanity, carefully balancing the mason jar ‘tray’ on his little desktop. With one sweeping motion, I made sure the thin napkin stayed in its place, serving as an extremely low budget cloche.

Once all was settled, I turned my eager attention to the sleepy little life below me. His deep slumbering breaths caused his chest to rise and fall to the rhythm of his slowed heart. I felt a thrilling tingle trace my spine as I noticed what covered that tiny beating breast: crimson letters each no bigger than 8-point font. I’d secretly hoped his keen eyes would spot what I’d purchased especially for him. Smart little thing. If anyone deserves a free ride to Harvard, it’s you.

His right hand lay slack over his abdomen, rising and falling with the air in his lungs. His injured leg was splayed straight out, while his left was bent, tucked beneath his hurt knee. His left hand had fallen limply at his side, just barely balancing on the edge of the mattress. I don’t know why, but the detail of seeing his tiny head, usually all full of blustering anger and intellectual fervor in his waking hours, resting on a tiny pillow, almost overwhelmed me. It delighted me to no end to see him interacting with furniture that fit him. For a moment, if I squinted my eyes, I could imagine my perspective was just an aerial shot in a movie and the little man before me wasn’t tiny at all, but belonged perfectly to a world that matched his proportions. I suppose he’d dreamt of such an impossible fantasy quite often.

Hello there, Alexander. I propped my head on my elbow and took in the mesmerizing sight of the man who could fit in the palm of my hand. Dinner could wait a minute… or thirty.

There was something wonderful about watching him in this moment of total tranquility, it was like a window into a future where he felt safe and satisfied. Poor little man, even without knowledge of all the details, I could tell he’d had a hard and painful life. I could imagine pretty much everyone at his size had. They were so vulnerable, after all. Looking at his bandaged leg, I was reminded that despite all his boisterousness and snapping, he was actually quite a fragile little being. It was easy to forget sometimes. He put so much effort into tricking you into thinking the opposite, after all.

I knew he was utterly wiped. Especially after all the melodrama in the bath. He deserved to sleep peacefully, knowing no one would ever dream of hurting him again. Not on my watch. As long as he’d let me, I’d be more than happy to do everything in my power to give him that peace of mind.

A pang of guilt rushed through me as a biting, critical thought burned through my cortex, searing the edges of my amygdala (did I remember Psych 101 well enough to get that right?). Despite my genuine desire to keep him safe, I’d hand-delivered him to hell on earth, myself. He couldn’t recall the details yet, but I believed him when he said they’d been cruel. I felt the burning sensation cut through my chest. Would I ever be able to make up for what I’d done? Or would he want nothing to do with me the second he could stand on his own two feet? Could I even give him what he needed to be happy if he could stomach the idea of staying with me?

Just then, he twitched in his sleep. It was nothing more than a microscopic little clenching of his fist and twitch of his brow as he pursed his tiny lips, still, I felt my heart skip a beat. Enough agonizing over the future, all I could do right now was relish in this precious moment. He was with me for now, and maybe that was enough. Not only that, but he was safe, comfortable and relaxed. That’s all I wanted for him.

Staring down at his little form, practically sinking into the surface of the mattress, I felt a tingling sensation run the length of my spine. Would this ever get old? I couldn’t imagine it would. The only thing that could possibly make this better is if it was my hand that held his limp little body aloft as I felt him twitch against the surface of my palm. Blood rushed to my cheeks just thinking about what a precious gift it was to get to hold him while he slept. I didn’t think I’d ever forget how that felt, even if I wanted to (not that I ever would). And he’d looked me directly in the eyes and requested it from me! He saw me, at least for that one moment, as a safe place to rest his head. All I wanted was to be deserving of that trust. I was painfully aware I had a long road ahead of me for that.

I shook my head, banishing the guilt again. Present moment, Nat. I reached for my phone and flipped on the camera. If I wanted to stay focused on the gift of this precious instant, I supposed it could last a lot longer if I captured it in a photo.

Making sure the flash and shutter sound were off, I aimed the camera at his little sleeping form, delighted that all of him fit easily in the frame, and took the picture. There, now when you’re pissing me off I can remember that sometimes you’re actually pretty cute. Granted, it’s only when you’re unconscious, but, we’ve gotta start somewhere don’t we? I couldn’t help but smirk. He was such a handful, this angry little spitfire, but he was also the best thing that could’ve happened to me. Who else was gonna drag me kicking and screaming through my last semester, and guilt me into cleaning to boot? Not to mention being the perfect pocket-sized, taste-tester for all my recipes. I knew he meant a thousand times more than all that, but I blushed to even think of those things.

I could stay here and stare at him adoringly for hours and not even feel the time go by, but he deserved to rest as long as he wished without me accidentally waking him. Poor thing, I imagined it’d be kinda terrifying to wake up with someone gigantic just looming directly overhead. I needed to give him his space.

Reluctant to let go, I sighed, settling on the edge of my bed, as close to his little sleeping form as I could get, resting my head at the foot of the mattress, so my gaze lined up directly with where he lay. If he needed anything I’d be close at hand. Sweet dreams, Alexander, I’ll be right here when you wake.

Much more quickly than I expected, I found my eyelids getting impossibly heavy as my breathing lagged and sleep claimed my mind and body. I’d forgotten how little rest I’d had today. It felt good to drift off into oblivion, knowing that tiny life, only an arm’s length away, was safe and sound.

******

My sleep was blissful and dreamless for a while, my body sinking into the surface of the mattress... My mattress. I desperately needed the rest, it was evident by how quickly I’d fallen asleep in the first place. I was warm, safe, and the aching pain in my joints faded with my consciousness. My body craved a moment to recover, that much was clear, and it was a delight to be able to give myself that gift.

But, as my breathing slowed to a deep, dull cascade, and my muscles melted into the fabric, releasing every fiber of tension into the forces of gravity, the ghost of an image began to form in my mind’s eye.

It was hazy at first, like the tendrils of silvery smoke in the split second after a flame has been extinguished, flashing in and out of sight as it dissolves into an inky black void.

I saw something electric blue, hurtling toward me, massive, forceful, frightening. Its surface undulating with strange lines and shadows. I wanted to run, to yell and fight, but I was rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle. Another appeared, and another and another. As if emerging from the very pitch blackness of my subconscious. They were wrinkled, undulating, living.

My head spun and a bad taste rose in my throat like bile, but stinging, my lips and tongue abuzz with the sensation, as one of those tendrils slammed into my chest, pinning me like some prized butterfly in a case, unable to escape the possessive gaze of all who looked upon me. These blue things were fingers. Fingers attached to a human hand. This was not a fantastical nightmare, but a memory.

Another one, thick, strong, in no way holding back its immense strength against my fragile frame, pressed into the soft flesh of my throat, tipping my head upwards, while others suspended the motion of my wrists and ankles. Truly like a bug on display, all pinioned and poised. In the distance, my ringing ears could make out voices, rumbling with the thunder of a burgeoning storm: one male, one female, like boisterous claps of thunder, terrifyingly loud yet impossible to discern, at least not in this fever dream of a memory. I watched in helpless horror as something cold, and biting slid into my arm. A needle as thick around as my littlest finger, the liquid burning as it entered my veins.

Don’t fall asleep. Just don’t fall asleep. You must fight. You can’t let them win. The wind rushed from my lungs as I was lifted again, head lolling as the drugs began to take hold. No wonder I’d struggled to remember this… I’d been utterly intoxicated! If they wanted a more pliable plaything, they certainly had one now, these monsters. They were faceless, nameless entities of evil who delighted in nothing more than torturing me simply because they had the power to do so. I felt an insatiable urge to cry and scream all at once.

But as I was picked up against my will, in my final moments of lucidity, I’d managed to throw my gaze down far below. Just what had I seen there? I knew it was important by the way I could feel my heart thundering away at the mere thought.

Yet, as I anticipated the most pivotal moment in my waking nightmare, the image was growing hazy, the smoke of this ephemeral ghost-like memory was starting to burn itself out.

No! No, not now! Please not now. I must remember…

I willed the images back from the void of my exhausted brain. Black uniform lines on white, as crisp and pristine as a raven’s feather on new fallen snow, began to materialize. The type font, militant in its precision, seemed to repeat endlessly in an upside down sea of useless text. I’d been well on the way to passing out by this point. It was entirely possible the anesthesia had erased these final moments from my mind.

I refused to accept that as a possibility. Think, Alexander! The rumbling, gruff and ever irritated voice of my sometimes caretaker, sometimes torturer entered my mind, as I recalled the many times he berated me for misquoting a Latin verse of Homer by a single mis-conjugated verb, “Make use of that little engine between your ears… think! It’s the one thing I shouldn’t be forced to do for you!”

I strained to turn the infinite lines of ink, which seemed to be shrinking more and more as I was pulled farther and farther away, into meaning. And that’s when, as if bending to my force of will… I remembered precisely what I’d managed to read in a panic before succumbing to their methods to pacify me.

I shot up, with a cry, body soaked in a cold sweat. All the pain that had faded with sleep now coursed through my spinal cord, lighting up my neurons as I couldn’t help but wince. Light tortured my eyes for a moment, before I was able to take in the world around me. I was still in my bed, still on Natalie’s dresser, and still safe from the nightmare I’d just relived. My chest was heaving as my fists clutched the sheets and I struggled to breathe. Yet, right in front of me, something was quite different.

Instead of the barren, unmade bed with its sea of tossed sheets, a woman, a mess of curls obscuring part of her face, occupied my view, fast asleep and heedless of my tortured dreams and frightened waking. That woman, who’s fingertips had become more familiar with my body than any other set of human hands, lay on the very edge of her bed, her head resting at the foot of the mattress. She’d arranged herself in a rather unorthodox way… Why? Her positioning seemed neither comfortable nor practical. Had she been so exhausted she just passed out like that? I supposed I wasn’t in a position to judge, I’d essentially done the same thing.

I admit, it was a bit of a blow to my pride that even my anguished cry as I woke from a bad dream was too tiny and unremarkable to stir the human before me. She was fast asleep as I looked on, my blood thrumming though my veins and pounding in my head as my breath came in broken hitches. She was the picture of perfect stillness while my body trembled with anticipation. I’d remembered! Finally, I knew, in excruciating detail, what they’d done to me.

I watched her with hawklike precision, her breath heavy like a rolling, lazy tide. I leaned forward, speaking with a sharp whisper, “Hey! Natalie…” the tide rolled in and out, unburdened by me. I felt a tightening in my chest as I tried again, “Natalie! Wake up!” Nothing. Dammit, really?? I cupped my hands and gave a shout across the vast cavern of space that in reality was only maybe three or four feet across, “NATALIE!!” She didn’t even flinch, her breathing deep and unencumbered.

Fired up now, and without a moment’s hesitation, I leaned over the bedside and clutched a scrap of brown packing paper from the floor below. It came as no surprise that it lay precisely where it had fallen: of course, she couldn’t be at all bothered to put anything away in a neat or orderly manner. Her lack of cleanliness now came to my aide, as I ripped off a piece, and crumpled it into a ball only a bit larger than my fist. I took aim and fired. It fell short.

Damn my little frame!

My face flushed hot with anger as I fashioned another projectile and tried again. This one hit its mark, glancing off her forearm, which cradled her head. My celebration was short lived, however, as I watched her twitch slightly and then nestle further into the crook of her arm, mumbling slightly.

Wake up already, you giant indolent fool! I’m at the absolute limit of my patience!

In a flurry of motion, I made several more projectiles and began lobbing them as hard as I could. The first glanced her cheek, the next nestled in her hair, but the third smacked her right between the eyes.

Bullseye!

She woke with a groan and flailing of limbs. This sudden movement would have been frightening had I been within striking range, but seeing as I was at quite a safe distance, her reaction was rather amusing.

“What the fuck?!” She batted at the attack, opening her eyes as she wrinkled her nose, as though it had made her itch. The one paper ball that had tangled in her hair stayed trapped amongst her dark tendrils, even as she began to sit up, “Alexander! What the fuck are you doing??”

I replied with another volley of paper, narrowly missing her eye by perhaps a quarter inch. She gasped, startled, as her spine straightened and she sat upright on the corner of the bed. She was much taller than my line of sight again, her head high enough that I had to crane my neck to look at her, but, I supposed, that was the norm. Her forearms flew up to protect her face, as I threw what ammunition I had left, she cried out in a frustrated protest “Stop it! Stop! You have a shockingly strong throw for someone your size. You’re gonna stab me in the eye with one of those!” I refused, taking out all my anger about the vet, about being too little for her to even hear, and for not being there when I needed her, as I prepared to throw my final round. I twisted over my shoulder wrenching my wrist far back behind, prepping my elbow for a strong follow-through, as her hands were raised in frantic protest.

************

“Alexander! Stop that! I’m up now!” What the hell, little man?? I thought we’d made good progress, yet here he was hurling things at me in a tiny fit of rage!

He wrenched back to throw it, muscles twitching, “Alexander!! Don’t you dare! Do not throw that at me!” We were both still as statues, frozen in time, staring each other down, “…I mean it! What’s gotten into you?? Put it down.”

He didn’t budge.

“Seriously, you little bastard, what the fuck happened to you between the time I left and came back? You were sleeping so soundly when I came in. You were goddamn adorable and I thought ‘Awww, he’s actually pretty sweet’… and then it’s like you went all Mr. Hyde on me on a dime… Ah! I see your arm twitching. Don’t! Don’t do it! Why are you so mad? What happened to that pretty little smile, huh?”

That was very much the wrong thing to say apparently, because a ball of packing paper collided directly with my cornea less than half a second later. Ouch. But also? Good aim.

I sucked in a deep breath to calm myself before gingerly pushing off of the corner of the bed and kneeling in the carpet, closing the gap between the angry little man and I by about half the distance, while also getting us closer to eye level, “Okay…. I don’t understand what just happened, but clearly we’re not communicating in the best way possible and you seem upset. I’m sorry for that. What can I do, Alexander? How can I fix this? It may surprise you, because of how often it happens, but I’m really not trying to piss you off, I swear.”

He avoided my eyes, as I blinked mine rapidly, tears falling down my cheek as my eye recovered from the blow. He sat there with his arms crossed over his chest, “Hey, please tell me what’s going on in your head. I obviously did something wrong to get the surface of my eye scratched. I’m sorry if I offended you. Are you mad because I fell asleep? Did you need me and I wasn’t there? I’m so, so sorry. God, and all this time I still haven’t given you your pain meds. I’m sorry, Alexander, you must be miserable and I’m fucking it all up. I’m still kinda getting used to this whole ‘learning to be responsible for another life’ thing…”

As I stumbled over my words, I noticed his shoulders soften, as his stiffened spine relaxed a little, and he let out a sigh before finally tipping his chin to meet my eyes. That crystalline blue gaze, usually sharp enough to cut like a knife, was just a tiny fraction softer, more forgiving, “I am in a dizzying amount of pain, I’m starving, and as you could see from my recent unconsciousness, I am desperate for sleep. Perhaps, because of these contributing factors, I was responding a bit more strongly than I should have.” Wow. That was the closest to a kind of apology that I’d ever gotten from him! Well, besides those little flowers. He continued, “But I…. I wanted to… I was hoping that… Natalie, I remembered what they did to me.”

It felt like a bomb went off in the foot and a half space between us. Just like that, my heart was in my throat. I could feel the throb of my agitated pulse in my neck, pounding in nervous waves. What had they done? I was terrified, but I had to know, “Oh my god! Alexander! That’s… that’s huge! Why didn’t you tell me sooner??” The dead pan stare I received was all the reminder I needed, “Oh… right… well, I��m ready to listen, now, I promise. But do you want food and medication first? What do you need most right now?”

*******

She gingerly placed her right hand on the surface of the dresser, a pointer finger absentmindedly floating up to caress the top of my left foot and ankle, which dangled off the side of the bed. This was as close as she’d dared to get and I felt myself instinctually jump when her skin pressed into mine. Normally, I would have pulled away, frustrated by the contact, but just now, I got the sense that she needed to touch me, almost as a way to soothe herself. She clearly felt badly for having fallen asleep and for upsetting me. I could see she was really trying to apologize and do better. That counted for something. Maybe this human was capable of improving.

“Yes, something to eat and some pain relief would be very welcome right now. Thank you, Natalie.” As I spoke, I caught her eyes. Her lips pressed together into a line as her brow furrowed compassionately, and she nodded.

“I bet the food is pretty cold now. Give me a second to heat it up and prep your meds, okay?” She very softly patted my ankle as she pulled her hand away and stood. It was my turn to nod, as she reached across the dresser for something covered by a paper napkin sitting on my desk. I hadn’t even noticed it was there before.

I didn’t like being left alone right then. The second she disappeared behind the door, images of my torture came flooding in. I saw blood, scalpels, fingers, so many prodding fingers, my nerves ablaze with pain, their grotesque faces twisted into saccharine smiles as they teased me. It sent a shiver down my spine.

I laid back, resting my head on the pillow, trying to keep my heartbeat steady and my mind clear. I wish I’d asked her to take me with her. The discomfort of being held and carried paled in comparison to the anxiety that was assaulting my senses now.

My forehead became damp with a cold sweat, blood thundering in my ears, as I clutched crimson letters and fabric in a fist, applying pressure to my fluttering chest, as my stomach churned. I couldn’t help this psychophysical response to the painful memories that were battering my brain. It was as though I was reliving it, despite being safe from harm. It was embarrassing, to say the least, not having control over my own nervous system.

Air was suddenly difficult to come by, as my chest heaved and found no real relief. I kept seeing those indistinct blue devices of torture, squeezing my face, yanking my hurt leg, pinching my bruised ribs. These very small parts of the human body that each were enough to subdue me. I trembled, face growing redder as air continued to evade me.

Just then she returned, saying something about the meal. I wasn’t exactly listening. But the moment she saw me, half collapsed on the bed, clutching my chest, she put down what she was carrying and rushed to my side.

*******

“Woah, what’s wrong? Hey, hey, Alexander? You having a hard time catching your breath? Okay, I think you’re having a panic attack. That’s okay, we can get through it. These things are a pain in the ass but you’re way too chaotic yourself to be bested by one of these fuckers…” I spoke softly, and couldn’t help but notice the corner of his mouth turning upwards into a hint of that crooked smile, “Can you sit up? Okay good. Is it okay if I get nearer? Can I touch you?” His brow furrowed as he winced from pain while sitting upright, but he still managed to nod in the affirmative and flash his eyes up at me. Those pretty blue eyes. Even in a crisis they managed to burn an impressive shade. As he adjusted himself, I laid my right palm beside him, my pointer and middle finger very gently stroking his back, while my thumb smoothed his hair away from his eyes, before resting in his lap. He propped his left hand on the knuckle and squeezed, blinking rapidly. He needed help regaining control, “Hey, look at me, let’s try to breathe nice and slowly in and out. Follow my lead, okay?” He did so, still gripping onto my thumb as tightly as he could, “I’m so sorry they hurt you. They will pay for what they’ve done. I know you’ll make that happen. But they’re not here and they can’t get to you right now. It’s just you and me. And I don’t ever want to hurt you. I may annoy the ever living hell out of you, but I’d never want to harm you.” He shook his head slightly as he hugged my thumb against his chest. He was finally getting air into his lungs and I could feel his little hummingbird heart slow to a more manageable rhythm. I ran my pointer finger along the length of his spine, delighted he was allowing me to physically comfort him at all.

“That was… I… I apologize for, whatever that was. It was highly illogical to respond that way—“

“—Uh-uh. Nope. We’re not doing that. No beating yourself up today. You ever heard of complex PTSD? You had a traumatizing experience. Your body and brain needs to process that. There will be no self-shaming here today. Thank you. Maybe try tomorrow.” I started to pull my fingers away to fetch the newly warmed food from his tray, but a pair of tiny, lithe hands pulling on the tip of my thumb stopped me in my tracks.

“Thank you… I…” He looked up at me in a manner I’d only ever seen once before, when he was truly vulnerable and scared, clinging to my pinky finger in the waiting room of the clinic. He sucked in a breath as if he was about to say something and then thought better of it. He cast his gaze down to the hoodie, and as he pinched the fabric between his little finger and thumb, he chose these words instead, “This was a thoughtful purchase.” He didn’t look back up at me. Poor Alexander, it seemed he’d hit his limit of being vulnerable today. But I’d take what I could get.

When I placed the tray of perfectly proportional dinnerware before him, I couldn’t help but notice a flush of pink to his cheeks, as he looked on, immediately clutching the knife and fork that didn’t, for once in his life, tower over him.

*********

I couldn’t help from swallowing hard upon seeing what she sat down on the bed beside me. A fork, knife, spoon, a dinner plate, a cup for water, a mug with steam curling into the cooler air, all perfectly sized for my hands. I felt a wave of emotion creep up and threaten to spill over, but I managed to keep myself grounded by inspecting the individual tines on the fork. It looked just like its human counterpart. How marvelous!

Her eyes were poring over me, delighted by my life carrying on in miniature before her. How stereotypically human of her. I was about to request that she not loom so hard, when I stopped short. What if this wasn’t about a human cooing over someone little? What if it was more like the delight of a person who’s given a gift relishing in the joy of the receiver? Being the recipient of gifts was not something I was really at all familiar with. Yet, an instinct told me she wasn’t trying to insult me, in this instance. I’d choose to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I seemed to be in a giving vein today, or maybe that was just aftershock from her having to see me shaking like a pathetic wet puppy. It was not my intention to ever let her see me like that again.

However, my body could no longer withstand abuse and the sharp pang of hunger that ripped through me reminded me of the task at hand.

Evidently, we were both quite hungry, because we ate in relative silence. She paused once to point at the steaming mug, with the butt of her knife, to say, “I mixed your medication with herbal tea. It might taste awful, though, just FYI. I put a drop of honey in, hoping that would help, but let me know how I can make it better.” I don’t know why, but that simple act of thoughtfulness touched me. It showed how she’d considered, beforehand, what my experience might be like and tried to fix it. She was stupid, she was loud, she was infuriating and sometimes altogether overwhelming, but there was no denying she had a kind heart.

The flush of color to my cheeks told me it was time to quickly switch to another train of thought. I considered the objects in my hands, once again, to calm me down. I’d never actually gotten to use a knife and fork before, but it was important that I do my best to mask my ignorance. After all, I’d spent countless hours of my meager existence watching humans chow down right in front of me while I waited for scraps. I was more than capable of learning through observation. However, it was an entirely new experience to have the actual sensation of wielding them myself, by delicately slicing a mouthful of food before piercing it with the fork (tines always turned down of course, I may have been born in America, but I’d be damned if I conducted myself like one at the table… Natalie seemed to have no such druthers as she used her fork more like a shovel than anything else. I tried not to watch).

When the meal was done, which, it must be noted, was flavorful and extremely satisfying, I plucked up the mug and imitated what I’d always seen humans do: I wrapped my hand inside the handle, cupping it tightly with both hands to savor its warmth. To human ears, I knew this would sound ridiculous, but I had not anticipated the sheer thrill of being able to just effortlessly pick objects up. I wondered if lifting this mug up from its surface with such little muscular effort was akin to how she felt lifting me into the air. It was so easy. If I wanted a drink, I could pluck the glass of water from where it sat with one hand and lift it with hardly any effort. No strain, no overwhelmingly large utensils and portions. No constant reminders of my littleness to fluster and embarrass me. For the first time in my life, I found total ease, grace, and peace in an activity that had, historically, haunted me. This ‘breaking of bread’ was something humans actually seemed to enjoy, whereas I had always grimaced and done what was necessary to sustain life as quickly as possible, hopefully avoiding too much ogling from the giant pairs of eyes around me.

Now I found myself clutching a white, ceramic mug, propped up against the headboard of my bed. With a low perspective and a squint of the eyes, I was indistinguishable from a man indulging in a nice cup of tea after a long nine to five shift. Why did that simple idea make my heart beat faster? For the first time in my life, there were things around me that accommodated me.

“Have you tasted it yet? How bad is it?” Natalie’s voice, always just a notch or two too loud, even though I was fairly certain she put effort into lowering it for me, tore me from my thoughts as I gazed up at her and shook my head, raising the mug to my lips.

Dear god. It tasted awful. I struggled not to spit it back in the cup.

“That bad, huh?” She winced, brows furrowing as she propped her head in her hands, and looked down at me. I shook my head with a grimace, flashing her a thumb’s up as if to say ‘no no, it’s great’. She laughed hard enough that she snorted, which made her laugh even harder. I rolled my eyes at how worked up she became and downed the rest of the concoction in one go, trembling from disgust as the taste medicine coated my taste buds.

“Woah! Glutton for punishment, are we? You’re braver than me, I’m such a weenie when it comes to taking meds.” She raised her brows, as I put the mug down. I shrugged, gingerly wiping the corners of my mouth. As I looked back up, I saw she was holding the glass of water, looking absolutely tiny pinched between her finger and thumb, before me. I softened a bit more. She was being awfully kind. Did I actually feel a bit guilty for getting so worked up at her earlier? I took the water from her and nodded in thanks. What was this strange feeling seeming to generate from the pit of my stomach and rise to my heart? Maybe the medicine was kicking in?

***************

He drank like a horse. Well… If a horse could be satiated with nothing more than a few drops of water. He drained the glass quickly, clearly desperate to wash down the bad taste. I hope it’d at least ease his pain. I felt so badly that I hadn’t taken good care of him. He’d been languishing in pain just after a major surgery and that was entirely my fault. Everything had been so chaotic in the last few hours it’d been hard to keep track of time. With a wince, he leaned over his right side and set the tiny glass down, which was clutched in his left. That seemed funny to me, why wouldn’t he just pass it off with his right? Was he left handed? I smirked, overcome with how adorable that was. In any case, I had to actively restrain myself from offering to pluck it from his tiny grasp and put it down for him, so he didn’t push himself too much.

“Natalie??” He waved his hand dramatically to grab my attention. I shook my head and cast my eyes to my lap (I’d pulled my desk chair up to the vanity to eat). Face flushed hot, I felt guilty for staring… again.

“S-sorry… Okay, so, you’ve been happily fed and medicated… You have my full attention Alexander, tell me what happened to you back there.”

He raised his brows expectantly, waiting for… Well, I didn’t know what. He crossed his arms, disapprovingly, when I didn’t get it. For someone so little, he could be so condescending sometimes!

I was totally confused, “W-what?”

“You should get something to take notes. What’re they teaching you in that law school anyhow??” He smiled for just a moment at his own joke, but it was enough to melt my heart.

Little Nightmare, I’ll be the butt of all your jokes as long as I get to see you happy.

I spun the chair and fished for a notebook and pen from beneath my pile of student trash and returned to his side. I clicked the pen and waited eagerly.

He pushed himself up against the headboard, resting his right hand in his lap, his left gripping the sheets, before peering up at me, those two brilliant irises hardened and haunted by a memory. The air suddenly felt heavy. I could feel the nervous pounding of my heart inside my chest.

When he spoke, it was with a definitive conviction that was impossible to dismiss, “I have substantial evidence that they’re in violation of federal law, Natalie. We have a case. An open and shut one, at that, from my perspective. They violated federal malpractice statutes 73A and B from the American Animal Hospital Association. There was an investigation less than a year ago, they were court ordered to make that information publicly available and clearly refused!” He looked up at me wide eyed and passionate. He may as well have spoken a foreign language for all I understood.

“R-right.” I clicked my pen, looking askance and trying to pretend I was following what that even meant. But of course, nothing got past his shrewd little gaze and he caught on immediately.

“You don’t even know what those statues are, do you?” Way to call me out! My face flushed. His eyes bored into mine, waiting impatiently for a confirmation of what he already knew to be true. I bit my lip and shrugged as his shoulders slumped and he sighed, rather dramatically, while pinching the bridge of his nose, “I hope you have plenty of paper in that notebook, because it looks like we’ll have to start from the very beginning.”

I felt embarrassed that I didn’t already know what he was going on about, but I looked forward to learning from the most brilliant, tiny mind in the world. I just hoped he had the patience to educate me, “Okay, Alexander. Teach me. Tell me everything that happened to you.”

I watched those brilliant little eyes light up at the invitation to share. Of course he was excited, someone was willing to listen to what he had to say! I may not know everything you want me to right away, but I hope you know I’m on your side, Alexander.

With a another click of my pen and a nod from me, he stood a little straighter. He licked his lips, swept his bangs from his eyes, sucked fresh air into his lungs and… began.

My only hope, as I pricked my ears to listen to his story, was that I could be all he needed me to be in order to fight back. After everything I was sure I was about to discover he’d gone through, this brilliant, relentless, little fighter before me deserved to win. I knew I’d do everything in my power to help make that happen and so, I prepared to write down his every word, feeling both eager and terrified to discover just what sort of living hell unfolded from behind that swinging metal door.

#Alexander is a great alarm clock #And he might have a future in baseball?#How long do you think it took her to plate that?#giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #g/t related #size difference #g/t angst #g/t fluff #a fraction of justice #oc:alexander #oc:natalie

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