ONE: POISON IT
hii!! First of all ur theme is so aesthetically pleasing and I love all the nagi. I like binge read all of your event works and *chefs kiss*. Could I request a piece for karasu with the theme of like academic rivals/classmates? No worries if not, hoping ur doing well and taking care of urself!
On an unrelated note I saw that post about rude comments and im so sorry that’s happening to you! I honestly don’t know what drives ppl to bother leaving nasty comments esp when it’s not like they’re being forced to read anything T-T Hoping to send you a bit of love to counter those trolls!
Synopsis: Crows are clingy birds, and Tabito Karasu’s feelings are hurt easier than you realize. (part two here!) (part three here!)
Event Masterlist
Pairing: Karasu x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 9.1k
Content Warnings: academic rivals to lovers, karasu is an asshole, reader is also an asshole, jealous karasu 😍, hiori randomly pulls up at one point for some reason??, yukimiya requests to follow one (1) person and accidentally causes the most dramatic pseudo breakup ever
A/N: anon i used to pray for times like these 😭😩 LMAOAO karasu is my fav (behind nagi ofc) but i’ve never gotten around to writing him so getting this request made me SO excited HAHA. i haven’t done anything rivals/enemies to lovers before so fingers crossed this doesn’t feel too awkward or unrealistic or rushed anything!! and yayyy i love my little nagi theme (and also nagi in general) i’m glad you like it too!! and my writing too, you’re so sweet 🥹 there will always be jerks unfortunately but lovely people like you make it all worth it 💖 thank you again and i hope this is kind of what you were looking for 🫶🏻
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
ONE: POISON IT
You could hardly contain your smile as you sauntered up to Tabito Karasu’s desk, your exam held behind your back. He was sitting by himself — his seat partner was sick this week, from what you had heard, so he had taken the chance to spread out his things and stretch his legs. When he noticed you, he raised his eyebrows, mouth tugging into a frown at your amusement.
“What?” he said. You brandished the paper in front of you, irises sparkling as you leaned over to rest your forearms on the desk.
“I got full marks on the last Chemistry exam,” you said. Karasu made a face at you, snatching the test from your hands and scrunching his face up as he inspected it.
“Seriously?” he said.
“Seriously,” you said. “What did you get?”
He crossed his arms and looked away. “Not telling.”
“You definitely failed!” you said in delight, taking back the exam and laughing at him. “How embarrassing. You failed the easiest test of the year, and yet you consider Chemistry to be one of your best subjects? I can’t wait to see how badly you do during finals week.”
“I did not fail,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got a ninety-eight.”
“Ninety-eight! That’s even worse than outright failure,” you said. “You were so close to perfection, and yet in the end, you fell short. It must sting for things to work out like that.”
“Yes, I’m positively wounded,” he said dryly before batting his eyelashes at you. From anyone else, the rapid switch in demeanor would’ve left you reeling, but the shifting mood was to be expected from him. “Will you give me a kiss and make it better?”
You rolled up your test and smacked him on the head with it. “No.”
“Anyways, my overall grade in the class is still higher than yours, because rankings were updated today and I’m still number one, so I’m not sure what cause you have to be boasting,” he said.
“Hm, but did you notice who’s number one in Modern Literature?” you said, pulling out your phone and opening the school’s app, which listed each class’s rankings in every subject. “Yup, that’s right, me.”
“Good job, Y/N!” he said, clapping mockingly. “Shall we have a party? It’s a big occasion — the mediocre number two has finally done something of such note that she’s number one for the first time in her life.”
“I’ve been number one plenty of other times!” you snapped. “For your information, I’ve been first in the class in mathematics and history every year since middle school, so who are you to be acting like this is a first? If anyone’s mediocre, it’s you!”
He raised his hands in the air innocently, his trademark smirk gracing his features once more now that he had succeeded in irritating you, as was his typical goal.
“Alright, alright, no need to be upset,” he said. “It’s not good for you. Clouds your judgment.”
“In what way?” you said.
“I mean, somehow, you got the two of us confused,” he said. “And we’re nothing alike.”
“I did no such thing,” you said.
“Well, I seem to recall you calling me mediocre, but between the two of us, the subpar one is obviously you,” he said, flicking your forehead. You slapped his hand away.
“You — the bell is going to ring, so I’m going to go back to my seat, but just so you know, you’re way more mediocre than me, Mr. Two-Percent-Short!” you said.
“Stellar comeback!” he called out. “My ego is bruised beyond healing!”
“Good!” you called back, ignoring the sarcasm. “Maybe it’ll return to a more normal size. Your head has grown too big, it’s almost as ridiculous as that hair of yours!”
“Leave the hair alone!”
During your free period, you decided to go to the library for some peace and quiet to work on your homework and find some of the sources you needed for your next research project. For belonging to a high school, the library was surprisingly extensive, and you had managed to find relevant information for every other project you had ever done in it, so you had high hopes. Unfortunately, it seemed this latest assignment was more obscure than anything you had completed before, so on your second lap of the shelves where the books, if they existed, would be located, you resigned yourself to giving up.
Just then, a volume caught your eye. The cover was shiny and pristine, the spine still unbent with newness. Crouching, you pulled it out, and when you saw the title emblazoned across the cover in bright yellow lettering, you began to laugh, making a beeline to the checkout counter with it tucked under your arm.
“Hey, Y/N! How was your morning?” your best friend said as you set your things down next to her in the cafeteria. You hummed in agreement, searching the room for a familiar head of dark hair. “You good? Looking for someone? Let me guess: your secret boyfriend that you’re keeping from the rest of us.”
“Yeah, I’m looking for Karasu,” you said before the rest of her words registered. “No!”
“You’re finally coming out and saying it?” she said, holding her hands to her heart and pretending to swoon. “I’ve been waiting for you to confess.”
“He’s not my secret boyfriend that I’m keeping from everyone, I’m just looking for him!” you said.
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “What do you need him for, anyways?”
“I got a book for him in the library,” you said.
“Right, and this is the guy you hate? Your ‘mortal enemy’ or whatever?” she checked.
“Yes,” you said.
“But you…got a book for him from the library, and now you’re looking for him so that you can give it to him?” she said. You scoffed.
“When you put it like that, it sounds different than it really is,” you said. “Trust me, this isn’t a nice gesture or anything. You can consider it revenge.”
“When are you going to get over this stupid rivalry?” she said. “He’s not even that bad, you know.”
“Not even that bad? Not even that bad? Are we talking about the same Karasu here? I’m referring to Tabito, not his older sister,” you said.
“Ah, I think so? He’s a nice guy,” she said.
“He is the spawn of the devil! And he’s the one who started it, so I’ll stop hating him once he apologizes and means it,” you said.
“Do you think he even remembers that?” she said. “It was in middle school.”
You glared at her. “I remember it. If he doesn’t, well, that’s just more of a reason for me to dislike him on principle.”
“Okay, okay, whatever you say,” she said. “Sorry for complimenting him. He’s awful and rude and mean. I think he’s sitting outside with some of his soccer friends, if you still want to find him.”
“Thank you!” you said, instantly forgetting that you were upset with her for taking Karasu’s side instead of yours. “Watch my stuff, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“See you soon,” she said. “Have fun. Actually, maybe it’s more realistic for me to just tell you not do anything that’ll get you expelled.”
You waved her off as you marched out to the courtyard where Karasu and his friends were lounging, their chairs positioned in the shade so that they did not overheat while they ate. None of them noticed you approaching until you were tapping Karasu on the shoulder and smiling at him sweetly.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he said, sounding oddly flustered. One of his friends snorted, and more than a few chuckled, but you ignored all of them in favor of setting your bag on the armrest of Karasu’s chair.
“Hi, Karasu. I was in the library earlier and I saw this book that reminded me of you, so I took the liberty of checking it out,” you said.
“Oh,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re so considerate, Y/N!” one of his friends said.
“We’re all so jealous of Karasu here,” another friend, the one who you believed had snorted, said. “You’re way too pretty for him.”
“Shut up,” Karasu said, sticking up his middle finger at his friend, though none of the group paid him much mind. In fact, it seemed to egg them on more, as they continued to hurl jabs at Karasu while simultaneously incessantly complimenting you.
You didn’t respond to any of them, instead pulling out the book and handing it to Karasu, interlacing your fingers and waiting for his reaction. At first he seemed confused, and then dismay dawned upon his features as he realized what he was holding in his hands: a copy of Chemistry for Dummies.
“What the fuck?” he said. You patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s only suitable,” you said. Suddenly, his expression cleared, and he beamed at you, which caused unease to brew in your stomach. You knew for a fact that he was about to say something infuriating, and you mentally prepared yourself to respond.
“What a roundabout way of telling me you need tutoring! Of course, I’m happy to help you anytime you want,” he said, tilting back in his chair so that he could cross his arms over his chest arrogantly.
“Why would I want tutoring from someone who does worse than me in the class?” you shot back, crossing your own arms in retaliation.
One of his friends whistled. “She got you there, Tabito.”
“Enough out of you,” Karasu said through gritted teeth. His friend winked at you and mouthed ‘nice one.’
“Look, man, all I’m saying is that if you want to ask out such a beautiful girl, you’ve gotta have a little more finesse than that!” he said.
“He can have all the finesse in the world, but I’d still say no,” you said. His friends hollered with raucous laughter, which caused Karasu’s face to turn red, but you only pressed the book into his hands. “It’s due in two weeks. That should be long enough, right? Make sure you return it on time, please, I don’t want late fines.“
“I hope you go into debt because of this stupid book,” he said.
“Aww,” you cooed. “You’ll be the one paying it off, so it doesn’t matter to me. See you around, Karasu — or, hopefully not.”
TWO: SHOOT IT
You and Karasu had met in middle school. The two of you had been assigned to work on a presentation together, and he had told you during your first meeting that because you were a dunce, you should just listen to him and do whatever he said. Ever since that day, you had done everything you could to show him how much better than him you were; for his part, he found great joy in getting on your nerves and so took part in every argument with pleasure.
You had long ago proved his middle school self wrong, by anyone’s standards, but at this point it was a habit for you to hate Tabito Karasu as well as a habit for him to hate you back. And of course, habits were hard to form but harder to break, so you would probably continue in that manner until the day you graduated and left him behind for good.
It was just the two of you who did not get along. Your friends were cordial with him and his ilk, and you did not really mind his little group all that much, crude though they sometimes were. After all, it was just in the manner of teenage boys, and when they were not taking advantage of your presence to make fun of Karasu, they were actually a pretty agreeable sort.
In fact, your friend groups tended to coexist most of the time, even having lunch together every now and again — though they were always careful to ensure that you and Karasu were kept entirely separate, or else you both were guaranteed to ruin the cheerful camaraderie with your sharp tongues and quick tempers. The measures they took were admirable, but unfortunately, they were not always enough. After all, what were precautions when compared with inevitabilities?
“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Guys! Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening?”
“Can’t believe what’s happening?” your best friend said, speaking for everyone at the table. They were all tuned in to you now, wondering what the big news might be that would bring about such a reaction from you, given how put-together you tended to be.
“Do you remember that one model I happened to meet while I was out last weekend? Kenyu Yukimiya? He just requested to follow me on social media!” you said.
“No way!” your best friend said.
“Way!” you said. The only warning you got was an arm pressing against your back, and then your phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. You gasped, spinning in your seat and scowling when you realized that the culprit was none other than that scavenging crow, Tabito Karasu.
“What the hell? He’s average at best, why are you so excited?” he said, scrolling through Yukimiya’s profile, his eyes narrowed critically. “Y/N, don’t you have any standards?”
“You’re probably the only person in the entire country who doesn’t find him gorgeous,” you said, exhaling dreamily as you took your phone back from him and stared at the artful manner Yukimiya was posing in for his profile photo. “He was even better looking in person. And sonice, too! They don’t make men like that often.”
Karasu frowned and swiped at your phone again. You held it out of his reach, reaching across the bench to press your foot against his chest, effectively holding him back from further attempts at thievery.
“Let me look at him again!” he said.
“Um, no,” you said. “I don’t need you making more fun of him. I know you’re jealous, but expressing it like this only makes you uglier, just so you know.”
“Looks like they’re back at it again,” one of your friends said, massaging her temples.
“Yup,” one of Karasu’s teammates said.
“Ugly? Ugly? You’re calling me ugly? Have you looked in a mirror recently? Also, get your gross shoe off of my shirt!” Karasu said.
“I have looked in a mirror recently, actually, and incidentally I’ve also been keeping an eye on my follow requests. Guess what? I’m obviously good looking, since a legitimate model wants to follow me! How many celebrities request to follow you, huh? I bet the answer is zero!” you said, though you did do him the favor of swinging your leg back, allowing him to brush himself off in disdain.
“Lots of soccer players want to follow me,” he said. “I’m quite good, you know.”
“That doesn’t count,” you said. “It has nothing to do with how you look. They’d request to follow you no matter how hideous and poorly styled you and your hair are.”
“Are they seriously arguing about which of them is worse looking?” Karasu’s teammate said.
“I suppose so,” your friend said. “They’re both really hot, though, so I don’t know what the big deal is…”
“Geez, they’ll take any excuse to go at it, huh?” Karasu’s teammate said.
“Pretty much,” your friend said.
“Guess all of that tension has to go somewhere,” his teammate said.
“Exactly,” your friend said, shaking her head as she finished up her lunch.
“That model probably only works for horror magazines!” Karasu said. “It barely even counts!”
“He was in Vogue Japan,” you said smugly. “Look it up, stupid.”
“So what?” he said.
“So he’s handsome,” you said. “Like I said, it’s okay if you’re envious of him, as long as you accept it instead of doing this whole weird denial thing. I don’t blame you for it — in fact, I thought you would be. You don’t have much going for you overall, do you? In all honesty, it’s only natural for you to feel like this when faced with what you lack.”
Karasu’s eyes widened, and then he stood abruptly, picking up his bag with one arm and haphazardly pulling it onto his back. “Goodbye.”
“Bye,” you said, not really caring one way or another what he did with himself. Actually, you would prefer it if he wasn’t there, interrupting your meal and your daydreaming about your impending romance with Kenyu Yukimiya.
“Wow, Y/N,” your best friend said once Karasu was gone. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”
“What are you talking about?” you said.
“It’s not her fault,” another one of Karasu’s teammates said. “He’s not much better.”
“Huh?” you said.
“Never mind,” your best friend said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have a migraine now.”
“Want some ibuprofen?” Karasu’s teammate said. She accepted it gratefully, and nothing more was said on the subject. The rest of lunch passed in a peaceful manner, though strangely, Karasu did not return.
It should’ve made you happy. You wondered, then, why it felt so odd without him there, like there was a gaping maw sitting in the place that should’ve been occupied by him.
THREE: DROWN IT
Ever since the day that Yukimiya had requested to follow you, you and Karasu hadn’t spoken. He refused to make eye contact with you in the few classes the two of you had together, keeping his gaze lowered to his work and his shoulders hunched away from you. You didn’t even try to talk to him; something told you that it would not be well-received, and you weren’t anywhere near confrontational enough to bring up his odd behavior, so the time without him dragged on and on, seemingly without end.
At first, you were happy, and you told your friends as much. It was a much-needed break from the constant aggravation he brought you, and you found your classes without your competition to be almost boring in their simplicity.
“The more you say you’re happy that you and Karasu aren’t talking, the less it sounds believable,” your best friend said, taking a sip from her juice box.
“Believe it! This is what I’ve been wanting since middle school,” you said.
“Is it?” she said. “It sounds like you’re kind of upset.”
“Am not!” you said. She shrugged.
“Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “Definitely not.”
“Why would I be upset?” you said.
“You tell me,” she said.
“I’m telling you that I’m not upset. You’re the one with the theory, so give me some evidence to substantiate it,” you said.
“Fine,” she said. “You talk about him all of the time, even when you guys are getting along — or, at least, your twisted little version of being friendly, which isn’t friendly by anyone else’s standards but it seems to work for you two, so I won’t comment further. You keep telling us that you’re so delighted he’s leaving you alone, but you do this thing with your face when you say it that makes it super obvious you’re not. It’s not the kind of behavior you’d display when discussing someone you hate as much as you claim to hate him. Finally, there’s a reason half the school thinks you guys are dating, and it’s not just the obvious aesthetic appeal of that match.”
“What? I thought you were just trying to bother me when you brought that up!” you said. She shook her head.
“No, it’s a common misconception. It’s why no one’s ever asked you out. They all think you’re already taken. Actually, the other day, a guy asked me if I thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had broken up,” she said.
“What’d you say?” you said, half in horror, half in fascination.
“I told him probably not, and that you and Karasu hadn’t broken up, because you were never together in the first place,” she said.
“Oh, okay,” you said.
“Should I have said something else?” she said. You shook your head.
“No,” you said. “What else would you have said?”
“Dunno,” she said. “Look, you need to cheer up. I’m sure that if you just try to talk to him, things will go back to normal in an instant. Then you can return to complaining about him like usual.”
“Talk to him? About what?” you said. She gave you an incredulous look.
“You were pretty mean to him the other day, Y/N,” she said.
“It wasn’t any meaner than what he says to me on the regular,” you said. “And what I say to him in return. I don’t see why he’d be more or less offended.”
“I think it was a little worse than what you typically say,” she said. “Plus, the context was different.”
“How so?” you said. She shook her head.
“That’s for him to explain, not me,” she said. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. Work things out with him. I miss hanging out with the guys.”
“Ah, so that’s why it matters to you,” you said. “Sorry to say it, but I don’t have any plans at attempting conversation with him anytime soon. Like I said, things are finally calm and stress-free for me. He’s the one being immature, as always, so why’s it up to me to make things better?”
“Immature?” your best friend said. “You’ve held a grudge against him since middle school.”
“And?” you said. She squinted at you before pursing her lips.
“Well, I guess the two of you really are made for one another,” she said.
“What?”
The next week would mark the beginning of the swimming unit in PE class, which you were actually looking forward to. You loved to swim, you had ever since you were a child and your parents had brought you into the water for the first time, and the thought of getting to earn a good grade for something you liked doing in the first place was an agreeable on.
In preparation, you decided to stop by the pool after classes were over so that you could acclimate yourself to the motions of the strokes once again. The swim team’s practice had been canceled, and no one else ever used the pool, so you would have the place to yourself, which was just about the closest thing to heaven you could imagine while still living on Earth.
Changing into your school-issued bathing suit and putting your things into a locker, you tied your hair back so that it was out of the way and stepped into the steaming indoor pool deck. The water was a bright cerulean shade, the lanes split by lane-lines which alternated colors to match your school’s emblem. When you dipped your toe into the deep end, you found it was warm, not cold like you had feared. The school didn’t splurge on heating the water of the rarely-used pool, so usually, it was all but freezing. You supposed that they must’ve had complaints from last year’s PE classes, so they had restarted the heaters in order to ensure that no one had any cause to whine about the temperature this year.
For a moment, you just sat on the tiled edge, your legs swishing about in the water, the heels of your palms pressing against the lip of the pool as you closed your eyes and luxuriated in the tangy scent of chlorine. So lost were you that you almost didn’t notice the door swinging open, but the clang of it shutting was unmistakable. Thinking it must’ve been a confused swim team member showing up to a practice that wasn’t happening, you opened your eyes, your lips parting to issue a reprimand that died before it could take shape.
It wasn’t a swim team member. It was Tabito Karasu, wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else, his jaw taut and his fists clenched as he inched towards the water. He hadn’t even noticed you, and you didn’t feel inclined to announce yourself, so you let your elbows dig into your thighs, your chin resting in your hands as you observed him.
You had known that he played soccer almost as long as you had known his name. It was the entire reason he was so popular and well-regarded in the school, and an inextricable part of his identity, but until now, you hadn’t quite considered what that actually meant. After all, you only ever saw him in the loose, modest clothing of the school’s uniform, so why would you jump to the conclusion that he was so — so — well, you were loath to admit it, but he had a striking body, and, now that he wasn’t being all cocky and maddening, you could appreciate that even his face was of a similar quality.
Blinking, you cocked your head as he extended a graceful foot towards the first stair leading into the shallow end. Water splashed against it, and he yanked it back like he had been scalded. You could not help yourself from giggling as he did this once and then twice again. On the third attempt, you forgot that the two of you weren’t acknowledging one another and cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice.
“What are you doing?” you said.
“Who — Y/N? I didn’t realize anyone else was in here!” he said, stepping back from the pool and straightening his shorts, though there was nothing wrong with them that required straightening. You sprang to your feet and walked over to him, leaving wet footprints in your wake as you peered at him curiously.
“I was just going to do some laps to ensure that I’m at my best for the swimming unit next week. Did you have the same idea?” you said.
“Something like that,” he said.
“What’s with that whole ritual, though?” you said. “It’s not that cold. You should just get in.”
“Definitely not,” he said. You furrowed your brow.
“Okay,” you said. “Why are you at the pool, then, if you don’t want to go in the water?”
“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with!” he said. “Why are you so nosy? Just go away.”
“I was here first,” you said.
“Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel. “I’ll go, then.”
“Wait! Karasu, wait,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist as he made to leave. “Look, we don’t have to talk to one another or anything. We’re experienced enough at ignoring each other, so there’s not an issue in both of us being here.”
“Is that what you want?” he said.
“Yeah, sure,” you said. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and you thought he would say something, but he only nodded curtly.
“Fine,” he said. You gave him an expectant look, but he did not move from the spot he was rooted in, so you thought that you might as well take the initiative. Looping around to the deep end, you inhaled and then dove into the water headfirst, staying under for as long as you could before finally surfacing and allowing yourself to settle into the familiar undulations that came with swimming.
After a few laps, you took a break, peeking up over the concrete to look at Karasu, who was still standing stubbornly in place, his nose wrinkling whenever he glanced at the pool.
“Hey,” you said. “Are you scared of the water or something?”
He froze. “Who told you that?”
“No one?” you said. “It’s pretty easy to tell as an onlooker. Were you planning on trying to get over your fear by coming to swim when no one was here? That’s dangerous if you don’t know how. You could drown.”
“I’m not scared of the water,” he said.
“Really? Then why’re you just standing there?” you said. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then finally he hung his head in reluctant defeat.
“Whatever,” he said. Judging by the way he tensed immediately after the confession, he was expecting you to say something cruel, but you only boosted yourself out of the water and tapped him on the shoulder.
“I can help you, if you’d like,” you said. “I’m good at swimming.”
“Why would I want your help? And why would you even offer it in the first place? This is just one more subject you can beat me in, and that’s all you care about, so save it,” he said. “Congratulations, Y/N. You get to be number one this time.”
He looped a dry towel around his neck and left you standing alone, shivering and dripping pool water, a puddle forming around your feet as you gazed at the door he had vanished through.
The class rankings updated again after the swimming unit was over. You were in first place. Karasu didn’t even make it to the top ten. You wanted to celebrate the victory — it was the first time you had beaten him so thoroughly, after all — but for some reason, it didn’t really feel like something worth celebrating.
FOUR: STONE IT
School without Karasu was lonelier than you thought it would be. You hadn’t realized just how much you relied on him until he wasn’t there anymore. Without him, there wasn’t anyone you could exchange looks with across the room when somebody said something ridiculous in class. There wasn’t anyone who you could talk to in the minutes before the period began. There wasn’t anyone who made you push yourself to be better. What was the point of being first if Karasu wasn’t on your heels, ensuring that you stayed on the top for fear of losing to him? It was boring and lonely to try if he wasn’t doing the same.
You and he were still one and two, but it didn’t matter much anymore. The rankings were just numbers. They didn’t mean anything when Karasu still refused to even exchange pleasantries with you. Why would you want to compete when the other party didn’t share your interest? Now, if you managed to pull out ahead of him, it felt more like you had kicked a dog that was already down than if you had actually won anything. When he got first over you, it didn’t fuel your ambition any. You just wished he would come over and gloat instead of sitting there so solemnly, like none of it had ever mattered to him in the first place.
You couldn’t understand why he was so angry. What had you said that was so egregious? You hardly remembered the conversation you had had with him, it was that thoughtlessly done. You really hadn’t meant much if anything by it. One second, the two of you had been squabbling as you were prone to doing, and the next, he was so furious that he couldn’t bear to interact with you even still.
The day you were ambushed was nondescript. It was just like any other Wednesday, and you were walking back home from school when you were forced to stop in your tracks. A tall man — no, he was a boy, probably a year or two younger than you based on his soft and innocent expression — was barring your way, his arms outstretched and feet planted firmly in the ground to prove the depth of his conviction. He had pale hair and sky-colored eyes framed by the longest eyelashes you had ever seen on anyone, man or woman, with a small mouth pinched into an expression of discontent and lines like tire tracks between his eyebrows.
“Who are you?” you said warily, reaching for your phone, though you hardly knew who you would call. The setting was wrong for this to be a mugging, as it was sunny out and you were on a well-traveled street, but you didn’t really know what else to expect from the stranger, who could certainly outmuscle you if it came to it despite his lovely appearance.
“Yo Hiori,” he said. “I play on Bambi Osaka with Karasu. You’re Y/N L/N, correct?”
“Oh, one of the soccer guys?” you said. “Uh, hey. Yes, that’s me. Is something the matter? I’ve never seen you before. How do you even know who I am?”
“I’ve been watching Karasu for a while,” Hiori said with the utmost of seriousness, his hands dropping to his sides now that he was sure you weren’t going to run past him. “He’s a pretty fascinating person.”
“I’m sure,” you said, thinking to yourself that this Hiori kid was more than a little weird. Did Karasu know that he had acquired such a shadow? You supposed he must’ve. He had always been the observant type, so there was no way someone like Hiori would’ve escaped his keen notice.
“He’s been kind of down in the dumps recently, though. Even our coach noticed it. His playing hasn’t suffered too dramatically, but he’s the captain of the team, so he’s the guy everyone relies on for a funny pep talk or a word of advice when things are going south. Nowadays, however, when he’s off the field, he just sulks,” Hiori explained.
“I see,” you said. “That’s terrible.”
You meant it, too. Karasu without his asshole quips and ready jokes was a different person entirely. A person who you missed more than you could let on, even to yourself.
“It is,” Hiori said. “I took it upon myself to do some digging, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the reason is you.”
He was definitely a freak. You vowed to bring it up with Karasu, if he ever talked to you again. Even if he was already aware, it felt like a moral or civic duty of yours to ensure that he was fully informed about the extent that this child was inquiring into his life.
“What kind of, uh, digging do you mean?” you said, neatly avoiding the second thing he had said.
“It was pretty simple,” Hiori said. “One of the guys asked Karasu if he was acting off because he broke up with his girlfriend or something, and he got so mad that he left practice early. I opened up social media as soon as I got home and saw that you’re the only girl he follows, so by process of elimination, I figured the two of you were having some trouble in your relationship.”
“Relationship? I think you’re misunderstanding,” you said. “There’s no relationship. You could hardly even consider us friends.”
“Oh!” Hiori said. “I’m sorry. He’s mentioned you once or twice, so I just thought — and given what he said — and his reaction and all — no, I really am just sorry. It was wrong of me to make that assumption in the first place.”
“It’s alright,” you said. “I’m told it’s a relatively common misconception, so I can’t blame you. At least, it used to be. We haven’t really spoken in a while, so I guess everything thinks that it’s over, even though it never began in the first place.”
“You haven’t spoken in a while?” Hiori said. “Why not?”
“I think I said something that offended him, and we haven’t been on good terms since. Not that we ever really were in the first place,” you said.
“You did? He’s a pretty rational person, so it must’ve been something terrible for him to still be angry about it,” Hiori said.
“Maybe, but I don’t remember saying anything like that,” you said.
“What if you tell me how your last conversation went? Maybe I can help you,” he said.
“Sure, since you’re apparently the resident Karasu expert,” you said. “Wanna walk with me? I was heading home, but we can go to the convenience store and get some snacks or something instead. I don’t want to get in trouble for standing around in front of some random person’s house for too long.”
“Sounds good,” Hiori said. “There’s one a couple of minutes away, so we can head in that direction and keep talking as we go.”
“Great,” you said. “Okay, so the last time we talked…I think it was when Kenyu Yukimiya requested to follow me.”
“Who’s that?” Hiori said.
“He’s this model I met while I was shopping one day. Absolutely breathtaking,” you said. “Just really a stand-up guy. We’ve hung out a few times since then, he introduced me to the girlfriend I did not know he had, the works.“
“Yikes, unrequited love?” Hiori said with a wince.
“It was more of a celebrity crush. His girlfriend is super sweet, though, so I can’t complain. Anyways, I would consider them both casual acquaintances. The type you call to have a coffee with, but not the ones that help you move into a new apartment, you know?” you said.
“Uh, sure,” Hiori said in a tone which suggested he had no idea what you were talking about but was too scared to inquire further.
“Moving on, Yukimiya requested to follow me, and of course this was at the peak of my celebrity crush, so I started fawning over him, which prompted Karasu to take my phone and start insulting him,” you said.
“Interesting,” Hiori said.
“Then I called him ugly, and he called me ugly — that’s pretty standard for the two of us, so don’t look so shocked! After that, I said something about how I had expected him to be jealous of Yukimiya, since he didn’t have much going for him overall, so it made sense,” you said. “That’s when he left and things got weird.”
“Okay, I think I get it,” Hiori said. You waited for him to explain further. He smiled at you pleasantly.
“Right, so are you going to share with the class or am I meant to read your mind?” you said after a moment.
“I don’t want to give anything away that I shouldn’t,” he said. “But it’s a pretty simple issue to fix. Try thinking about what you said from his perspective.”
“He has a dumbass perspective. It’s impossible for me to think that way,” you said automatically.
“Do you think that he dislikes you?” Hiori said, taking two bottles of Yakult down from the shelf, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.
“I’m not really sure how he feels about me, to tell you the truth,” you said.
“I don’t think he does,” Hiori said. “So, try thinking about someone you like and then imagine them saying to you what you said to them. Would you be inclined to be nice to them after that?”
“Well…” Your tongue was heavy and leaden in your mouth, and you ducked your head as you searched through your wallet for money. “No, not at all. I’d probably hate them for a really long time. Maybe forever.”
“That’s possible,” he said.
“Do you think he’ll hate me forever?” you said.
“Most likely not. Like I said earlier, he’s a rational person. I think that if you say sorry and sincerely mean it, he’ll forgive you. There’s a chance he won’t, though; you’ll have to listen to what he says and accept it,” Hiori said.
“But when? I hardly have the chance to see him in school. He just avoids me, and the building’s so big that it’s all but impossible to track him down!” you said.
“We have a soccer game in the evening today,” Hiori said. “I’m heading over there in a bit. Wanna come? You can talk to him once it’s over.”
“Am I allowed to?” you said.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Hiori said. “If anyone says anything, just tell them I invited you. Here, I’ll give you the address and time now, and you can decide if you want to show up.”
“Okay,” you said, typing out his instructions in your notes app. “Thanks a lot for your help, Hiori.”
“Anytime!” he said. “Hope to see you at the game!”
“Even if I don’t go, I’d still like to meet you again. You’re a pretty cool kid,” you said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Kind of weird, if I’m being fully honest, but cool nonetheless. Karasu’s lucky to have a teammate like you.”
He grinned, and it was a tender, shy thing, as if he was earnestly seeking your praise or approval — like how a cat would bring a dead rat to its master or a child would show their parents a treasured drawing. “Thank you. Even if you don’t try to talk to Karasu…maybe you can still come anyways?”
“Alright, then,” you said. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I have to. I’ll be there.”
FIVE: TAME IT
The sun was nearing the horizon, but it still had not officially begun to set by the time you settled in the bleachers on Bambi Osaka’s side. Besides a couple of women your mother’s age and an elderly man who must’ve been someone’s grandfather, there weren’t any other spectators. Hiori had mentioned that this wasn’t a particularly serious game, as they didn’t even need to beat the team to make it to Nationals, so it was more like a friendly exhibition game than anything — hence the low turnout.
“Hello, dear,” a woman said when she noticed you sitting by yourself. “Are you friends with one of the players?”
“Yes. Um, Tabito Karasu? I’m his classmate,” you said. Technically, you were there on Hiori’s goodwill, not Karasu’s, but for you to not mention Karasu would be like a betrayal. You weren’t sure if it was him or yourself that you’d be betraying, but either way you did not want to chance it.
“You’re one of Karasu’s friends? Lucky you, then,” she said. “He’s a delightful boy, or so I’ve heard. This is my son’s first year on the team, and he was really nervous to join such a prestigious organization, but ever since his first day, all he can talk about is how amazing his captain is. Karasu’s tough on all of the players, but he really works hard to make all of them feel welcomed, too.”
Bambi Osaka’s team took the field, and you smiled when you saw Karasu in the front, his name across the back of his jersey, a pair of black gloves covering his large hands, an insolent leer on his face as he greeted the other team’s captain. He had not noticed you yet, and you were not sure if this was for the better or worse, because you wanted him to see you, but you didn’t want him to be distracted and play poorly as a result.
“He’s a wonderful person,” you agreed. “He’s the only one in the entire school who can keep up with me, academically or otherwise. I didn’t realize until recently how much I admire him for that.”
The woman’s eyes crinkled around the corners with the ease that came from a lifetime of happiness. For some reason, you thought that she knew something you did not, or could not, but it wasn’t uncomfortable that she did. It seemed to you that being left in the dark was just your lot this time around, and you found that oddly enough, it felt acceptable.
“Is this your first time coming to watch him?” she said.
“Yes, it is,” you said.
“You know, he has this habit before every match of scanning the stands, like he’s looking for someone. I thought it might be his parents, but at the last match, just about his entire family showed up, and he still seemed disappointed,” she said.
“That’s a shame,” you said noncommittally, not sure what else you should say. The woman shrugged.
“Well, I wonder what it’ll be like today,” she said. “There he goes.”
True to her words, Karasu was craning his neck towards the Bambi Osaka side, his eyes darting from person to person until they settled on you. You raised your hand hesitantly, waving at him, knowing that he probably wouldn’t reciprocate.
He turned away almost immediately, but not before you saw him fight back a smile — not the smug type he generally donned, but one you had only ever seen on him once or twice. It was one that made him seem charming and boyish and sweet, that made you want to take back every negative word you had ever said about him. Only now could you understand that it showed who he really was, that at his heart Karasu was that kind of person, not anything like the facade you were so accustomed to, which he showed you for the sole reason that it was what you unconsciously demanded of him.
You had judged him to be horrible, and so he became the bane of your existence. You had told him he was good for nothing, so he disappeared like he really was just that. Everything you said, Karasu went along with gamely, and you wished you could’ve known that earlier, so you would’ve spent less time hating him and more time comprehending these intricacies, which entranced you in the way a spider’s web entranced a butterfly.
“Looks like I don’t need to worry about that child any more,” the woman said as the referee blew the whistle to signal the start of the game.
“Pardon?” you said. “Were you talking to me?”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just musing to myself. Ignore me. Let’s watch the game; I have a feeling that some of our players are going to go all out today.”
Bambi Osaka completely annihilated the other team. Maybe the match didn’t matter, but none of them played that way; instead, they were aggressive and focused, with Karasu at the forefront of every goal they made, commending his teammates and deriding his opposition in the same breath.
That was something you had not expected — he had a massively foul mouth when he played soccer. You had thought that he was rude when he spoke to you, but the things you overheard from him whenever he ran by within earshot made your conversations seem tame. You couldn’t help but pity the poor defenders that he shoved past and spat barbed-wire abuse at.
He was merciless and beautiful and you could probably spend a dozen more hours watching him play without even a trace of boredom, but by the time the sky had turned gold and the sun had dipped towards the ground, the game was over and the members of Bambi Osaka were packing up their things to leave for the night after yet another landslide win.
You snuck onto the field once you were extremely assured that nobody would be upset with you for it, making your way over to where Karasu was chugging a bottle of water.
“Hi,” you said when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the now-empty bottle into his bag. “You played really well.”
“Thanks,” he said. There was impatience but also longing in his voice, like he wanted you to say something so badly but he knew you would not, would never, and so he would rather get the conversation over with and move on with the business of his life than stick around and waste time with you.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“What?” he said.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “Karasu, I’m really sorry. I don’t think that you have nothing going for you. I don’t know why I said that. Well, I do, it’s because I wanted to have the last word like I always do, but I don’t mind if I don’t have it this time. Or any other time. Or ever again.”
“What?” he repeated, as though he had been rendered dumb by your confession.
“I miss you,” you admitted. “I didn’t believe I could, but apparently, I can, and I do. A lot. I know that I’m unpleasant and disparaging and haughty when it comes to you, but I won’t be that way anymore if you forgive me for my vices one last time. If it means you’ll talk to me, I’ll be a fool. I’ll be in second place. I’ll be an idiot. But please, please forgive me.”
He took a deep breath. You handed him the bottle of kombucha that you had bought on your way to the game because you saw him drink it so frequently that you figured he must like it. He accepted it gingerly, holding it with the delicacy of a newborn, unscrewing the lid and sipping on it pensively.
“Alright,” he said.
“Alright?” you said.
“I’ll forgive you,” he said. “But on one condition.”
“Anything,” you said.
“You better not do anything as dumb as trying to be mediocre on purpose because you think it’ll make me feel better. What the hell is that proposition, huh? It’ll make me feel worse if anything! I like you because you’re unpleasant and disparaging and haughty and whatever else you said, not in spite of those qualities. I’m sure you heard me while I was playing…anyone who isn’t you would probably be terrified of me when I’m like that,” he said. “Just, y’know, I’m a person with feelings, too, so keep that in mind if you can. Oh, and don’t wait so long to say sorry next time, because it’s seriously annoying for me to feel all out-of-sorts for ages!” he said.
“That’s it?” you said.
“That’s it,” he said. “Hug?”
Ordinarily, you would’ve said no, but you were so weepy at the reconciliation that you nodded and let him embrace you, his arms caging you against his chest, holding you to him so that you could not escape.
“Ew!” you shouted when you registered what he was trying to do, shoving him off of you as he cackled and released you without much of a fight. “Gross, Karasu, you’re disgusting! Get away from me! I can’t believe you did that!”
“I can’t believe you fell for it!” he said as you frantically tried to wipe yourself off, though it was largely in vain. In your emotional state, you had forgotten that he was still drenched with sweat from the game, and you were now reaping the consequences of your poor decision making.
“You’re a bad person,” you said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
“I probably deserved that one, though, so I won’t hold it against you,” you said.
“Smart decision,” he said. “Wait. Unrelated, but whatever ended up happening between you and that model dude? What was his name again?”
“Yukimiya? He has a girlfriend,” you said. “Oh, well. What can you do, right? I’m not upset about it. Besides, everyone and their mother thinks I have a boyfriend already, so it’s probably for the best that it worked out like this. I wouldn’t want his modeling career to be ruined by home-wrecking allegations or anything.”
“It must be a pretty serious not-relationship you’ve got there, if it’s the career-ending type,” he said.
“I’d say it’s pretty serious, yes,” you said. “He’s an awesome guy. You’d like him.”
“I’ll respect it, then,” he said. “But…if you ever find yourself not-breaking up with him, then, uh, let me know. I’ll take you on a date somewhere. We can argue and reminisce about the day we met over dinner or something. It’ll be super romantic.”
He said it casually, but you were more familiar with him than either of you ever could’ve predicted you’d be. He was secretly nervous about how big of a risk he had taken, fiddling with the zipper of his soccer bag, avoiding your eyes while he waited for your response. You let the silence stretch on for a minute, just to make him squirm, and then you poked him in the ribs.
“Karasu,” you said.
“What’s up?” he said, and he must’ve been trying very hard to keep his cool, but his anxiety transmitted through the endearing crack of his voice.
“I have to tell you something,” you said.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“I’m not-single now,” you said. “So. Will you take me on a date this weekend?”
He lit up, so bright that you were all but blinded by the brilliance of his joy. Then he cleared his throat and pretended to check the non-existent watch on his wrist.
“You’re in luck,” he said. “That works for me. I’ll pick you up on Saturday for dinner.”
“Great,” you said. “I look forward to it.”
“Hold on, don’t go just yet,” he said. You paused, about to ask him what else he needed when he stooped over and pressed his lips to your cheek. “Thanks for coming to my game. I’m not really sure how you knew I was playing, but I’m glad you could make it either way.”
“Um — uh — Hiori told me, he told me you were playing, and, er, where to go and what time and all,” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened, replaying it in your mind over and over.
“Hiori? I should’ve known he’d be the type to meddle like that,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how you know each other. The answer will probably make me feel vaguely discomfited, so I’ll abide by an ‘ignorance is bliss’ policy.”
“That’s probably for the best,” you said, composing yourself, though internally, you were imagining what it would be like if you had turned your head, if instead of your cheek his lips had landed somewhere else. “Okay, I should go now. See you on Saturday?”
“One last thing. You’re pretty transparent, you know,” he said, grasping your chin in his left hand and leaning in. Your eyelashes fluttered shut as he grew closer and closer, but right when his mouth was a hair’s breadth from yourself, he chuckled. “Also, pretty gullible.”
Instead of kissing you like you had anticipated he would, he tackled you in another hug. You squealed in protest, but he held fast, his body rumbling with laughter as you simultaneously struggled to escape and clung onto him as tightly as you could.
“I hate you,” you said when your half-hearted efforts proved to be entirely futile.
“Sure you do,” he said.
“You’re the worst,” you said.
“Absolutely,” he said.
“I’m being serious here. You smell!” you said.
“Well, that’s plain rude of you to say,” he said, messing up your hair in what you were sure he deemed to be a punishment, as if being crushed against his sweaty form wasn’t punishment enough.
“Let go of me, you idiot crow!” you said.
“No can do,” he said. “Crows are clingy birds, you know. Even the idiotic ones. Ask me again in twenty years and maybe we can revisit the issue.”
“Karasu!”
More Posts from Nightmareluinor and Others
۫ ꣑ৎ . HIS ULTRAVIOLENT PROSE. mydei
summary, even with half-bitten pomegranates between tongue, teeth and heart, the prince of Kremnos tries to make amends with you.
mydei x gn!reader. mildly lovers to enemies. tension and arguments. hurt with comfort. mentions of arranged marriage and eloping (love this trope with him) soft and gentle mydei, might be ooc. lore-inclined city-state ceremonies. [2.0k wc]
It’s merely an alliance ceremony.
And yet here you were, being dressed in foreign silks and heavy accessories. Compared to your usual attires the fabrics are lightweight, enough for a cold rush to scrape your skin despite the torch lit by the corner of your room.
Your face must’ve betrayed you, for the maidens that attended to you murmured about it being part of Kremnoan traditions and that you had to endure it, only with such a solid statement do you deflate, settling stiffly and defeatedly on the chair, allowing them to continue their decorations on you, to peel you bare of your sea-state city garments and pool Castrum Kremnos‘ silk clothes, sandals and cape over you.
At this very moment, you looked like a raw and beguiling warrior, a far cry of what you truly were, an ignorant coward.
“You look beautiful.” A more elderly woman speaks from behind, you stare at her through the vanity.
“…I look like a fighter.”
“Are you not?”
You hesitate to answer her, biting your lip to prevent yourself from speaking something you might regret.
Are you still labeled a fighter after losing your city to Castrum Kremnos?
You were anything but triumph, you lost your kingdom, your pride, your people—and only this alliance union can salvage whatever scraps of glory you have left, it's the only thing you could do for your folks since you disappointed them as their leader.
The elder woman’s hand lands softly on your shoulder, despite such a gentle manner you cannot help the flinch from echoing through your bones. Your nails bury into your palms.
“I assure you, young one, that shame is the last thing Castrum Kremnos would dare to offer you and your city-state.”
She pauses.
“Our prince would not dare such a thing from you.”
You wanted to laugh, to cry and scream and ruminate frustrations. But you swallow instead, “I see.”
You did not utter another word after that. The maidens have left long ago and you pondered with your own thoughts, recounting the gradual yesterdays you spent mourning over fallen friends and a broken city. You recounted tidbit memories of the remaining council that pushed you for this alliance—forcing you to succumb and kneel towards the very people that took your everything.
After all, as the last remaining royal blood, that’s the least you can do.
The Kremnos’ heavy bells finally billow, and you inhale sharply.
“It’s time for you to step into the ceremony hall, lord.”
And you stand, your heart heavy with pressure. When you followed a counselor towards your destination, the older man gave you a quick rundown of certain rules and traditions you needed to adhere to, you half-listened to the convoluted rules until the very last statement that catches your attention,
“At the end of the blessings, you are to share a cup of pomegranate juice with the one you are to join alliance with.” he starts,
“In this case, you are to drink from the same cup with the representative of our city, Kremnos’ prince Mydeimos.”
His name is an echo through the shell of your ears, leaving a bitter aftertaste between your teeth. You stopped listening after that, until you both faltered at the end of the corridor.
Your heart is pounding in your chest when the large, looming doors split open, by now, the hall is packed and standing at the very front was the ceremony priest and Mydeimos himself, awaiting your arrival. When you step beside him on the podium, your gaze dare not shift towards the prince.
You let the withered voice of the priest wander you through the prayer, he lifts an iron chalice brimming with liquid as red as blood—you watch quietly as he lifts a smaller glass of honey, letting the golden liquid pool into the red cup before blessing the drink.
The priest turns to you, with a nod he beckons you to mirror the oath spoken. With parted lips, you follow along, pledging allegiance and alliance to Castrum Kremnos, “And with the glory of Strife and blood intertwined in allegiance with Castrum Kremnos, I, the succeeding lord of my city shall share the same devotion of valorous death before glorious return.”
You tilt your chin, lips pressed against the iron. The tangy yet thickly sweet taste of pomegranate rinses through your tastebuds. When the red liquid hits the middle line, you retract, turning towards the direction of the prince.
You look at him, only to find his heavy resin eyes already on you.
Mydeimos’ blank stare traces every bare action you do, and for a split moment you try to hold his weighty stare, trying to dissect his expression—trying to see what he thinks of the whole thing, and yet you find none.
You’ve dropped your gaze then, before extending the chalice in his direction. You slightly stir when you feel his fingertips brush your knuckles, you are quick to let go when he grabs ahold of the cup—too quickly.
How audacious, you cannot help but wonder when the priest speaks the same oath to him, Mydeimos recites it but his eyes never stray from you. Truly, he’s like a prowling lion assessing its prey.
There’s a prickling sensation of self-consciousness with such a look pinned on you.
“And with the glory of Strife and blood intertwined in allegiance with Castrum Kremnos, I, Mydeimos the succeeding prince of my city shall share the same devotion of valorous death before glorious return…” he rasps, then he downs the remainder within the chalice, his golden eyes still on you.
You cannot help yourself but settle your gaze on his exposed collarbones, laddering your way up the column of his neck where you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs at the swallow of the juice, a few clumsy droplets run down his jaw before he retreats and wipes it with the back of his hand.
The bells sound once, then twice at the successful union but your mind is a flurry of thoughts, though all of them stop at one concluding statement, you desperately need to get out of the banquet hall.
So when you’re finally released from your duties, instead of lingering and talking with the folks you spin around towards the exit. Nobody seemed to bat an eyelash at your hasty departure, nor was there anyone in the hallway outside which allowed you to break into a sprint—you don’t know where you’re going, quite frankly the layout of the city is still foreign to you, but you needed to get out of there.
At the fall of your impatient footsteps, you barely hear another set chasing after you.
Only until you feel larger hands gripping your waist do you stop.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?” You don’t need to turn to know who was speaking, the plates of his half-naked front are pressed hard against your back, it acted like a furnace almost.
“Unhand me.” You try to sound casual but it ends up in a bite. “This instant, Mydeimos—“
“And what?” He challenges back. “Let you run around like a headless goose until one of the counselors finds you? Do you wish for trouble that much?”
Instead of answering, you try to pry his hands around your waist. Your attempts are obviously futile however you are wracked with frustrations, fury and confusion. Your actions only fueled the prince’s impatience.
“Quit squirming—“
“Then let me go!” You try to glare at him. “I wish to be anywhere but in your arms right now—“
That must’ve struck a nerve.
Mydeimos’ grip on you only tightened, he pulls you towards an empty corner between the heavy flaps of curtains and presses you against the wall. His hand grips your jaw—but despite such a harsh action his hold on you remains feather-light, gentle.
His face draws close to your own, until you can feel his raspy voice on your cheek. At this distance, you can smell his scent of bonfire, tender smoke and something sweet, like pomegranates, he smelled awfully fruity.
“Says the one that wishes to marry me, isn’t that what you confessed to me months before?”
The jab brings heat to your cheeks, you lift your hand with the intent to slap him but Mydeimos captures your wrist before your palm could collide with his cheek. His thumb runs up from your wrist to your palm, intertwining your fingers together and laying it on the wall beside your head, his bangs brush your forehead, face so, so close that if you tilted your head your lips would be brushing his own,
“You wanted to elope with me.” Mydei tells you. “Have you forgotten? Or do you wish for me to tell you the exact words you told me that day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, this was before my city was attacked by your warriors!”
The tension hangs gauche, the silence between the two of you almost unbearable. The man before you sighs heavily, “There are a handful of things that are at my disposal, even with the title of prince—the issues of prophecies is something I cannot control.” Mydei soothes a thumb over the pulse in your wrists.
“You of all people are aware of this fact.” he pauses. “Or maybe you weren’t, after all the sea-side states are nonbelievers, you and your people don’t revere the Titans, only the arithmetics and logarithms of the world.”
“You're right, I wasn’t.” You snap. “I did not know Castrum Kremnos was prophesied to destroy my home, Mydeimos. If I had known, I wouldn’t have uttered such preposterous words to you, I was made out to be an ignorant fool because of it.”
Mydeimos’ whole demeanor takes a polar shift, you’re unsure why those eyes had melted like butter, was it your shaky voice, the pitiful wallow in your tone? Or did he truly feel an ounce of empathy for your situation?
“You're not an ignorant fool.” He lets go of your wrist but his body remains pressed up against your own, despite the position his body heat grounded you, especially with his follow up of, “to me, you’re the wisest person I know. A leader with a heart of gold, I apologize for causing you so much agony and for being unable to aid you when you need it most.”
He takes your hand, smearing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish to make amends with you but if you hold such vengeance in your heart—” he tugs your wrist, digging your fingers to his chest just above his heart. “You can scratch my heart out and kill me, stab me in the back for as long as you want if it means your desires would be satiated, then so be it.“
“…Mydeimos.” To say you were shocked was an understatement.
He softly bumps his forehead with your own. “Do you hate me, kardia mou?”
This was the very reason why you fell for him, the prince from the city of warriors. Despite the harshness of his textures and tones, when it came to you, he was honest and open. Those universal stone-cold expressions fissure as soon as he sees a glimpse of you in the distance. He spoke in uncharacteristic gentleness and his fleeting skinships sent butterflies within your chest. You cannot be angry with him, much less hate when he acts like this.
You feel him interlace your fingers, weaving his own with yours. Then he leans down once again, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, the intent of apology willing to spill from the nonexistent gaps between the two of you. “I’m sorry.”
Your eyes turn glassy. Maybe it was due to Mydeimos’ comfort that every drowning pressure that you’ve bottled up comes cracking at the seams.
A sob spills between your lips.
“I don’t hate you, Mydei.” Your voice trembles when he tips your chin towards him, brushing his thumbs over the tear staining down your cheeks. “Truthfully, it is I that I loathe the most, not you—never you.”
“So please, never say that I find thrill in killing you.”
Mydei’s hand comes tangling through your tendrils, you weep on his collarbones, his woody scent engulfing you in comfort.
“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “I’ll never speak of such a thing to you, so cease your cryings, my love.”
you got me — l.sh
one shot ⭑.ᐟ synopsis⭑.ᐟ you just can't help but play along when the cute pizza delivery guy attempts to prank you. content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, pizza delivery guy!sohee, fem!reader, pet names, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), protected sex word count⭑.ᐟ 3k+
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the newly opened pizza place down the street just finished their first year with a bang. the boys were all lucky enough to have customers that appreciated fun, ordering from them and letting them prank them from time to time. you weren’t safe from those pranks as well, remembering when you received a pizza without toppings after your second order.
because of sohee’s low sales, the boys all bullied him into taking every delivery for the day. there were more than ten lined up but luckily all of them were around the area. the prank they all cooked up for today was a bit more devious, since it was meant to be a punishment for sohee in the first place.
it all started when seunghan proposed the idea to the guys, without sohee knowing. once he heard of the prank, blood drained from sohee’s face. he was not whipping his dick out for random people that just want to buy pizza. but the boys were all well-prepared, sticking a dildo to an empty pizza box. anton threw in a condom as a cherry on top, thriving to see sohee suffer. sohee discreetly stole seunghan’s nametag to prepare for what’s about to happen, something he obviously does a lot.
when sohee was on his last delivery, he immediately dreaded two things: it was the dildo box and you were the recipient. he followed his usual routine out of habit, putting you last on his list. sohee’s crush on you wasn’t a secret to anyone, not even to you. it became more obvious when he’d be the one showing up your door whenever you ordered from them, chuckling to yourself whenever you fell victim to their pranks.
sohee always liked seeing the smile on your face whenever you got a stupid order, it didn’t matter if the box just had an uncooked pizza or one filled with tons of cheese— wonbin was obviously very creative with his pizzas. sohee always made it up to you specifically, giving you another one as an apology, the main reason why he had low sales in the first place.
after sohee stepped off of his motorcycle, he found himself nervously fiddling with the box he had on his hand. he didn’t have an extra pizza for today, already suffering from his low sale record and with the dumb prank the guys all cooked up. sohee just desperately wished you wouldn’t buy pizza from them today. and yet here he was. “just tell her not to open it and run back,” he repeated to himself quietly as he walked up to your unit.
you opened the door with a huge smile on your face, contrary to sohee’s ghastly pale complexion as he nervously smiled back. you were all dressed up for a party you planned on going for tonight, planning to bring pizza for some friends you haven’t seen for a long time. you knew ordering from them was a huge risk, but you didn’t care, their pizzas were actually good if you got lucky.
”looking forward to today’s pizza,” you grinned, reaching out to take the box sohee had in his hands. he grabbed onto it tightly that you had to tug on it a few more times before looking back up with a confused look on your face. “u-um,” sohee looked at you nervously, “d-don’t open it!”
he might not know this but that only intrigued you even more, still staring at him as sohee finally let go of the box. you immediately figured out from the expression on his face and the lack of warmth emanating from the box that it wasn’t the usual ones they give. “p-promise me you won’t open it?” you bit back a mischievous smile, nodding obediently as sohee began to turn around.
there was no way you’re not opening it now.
sohee hesitated to leave, constantly glancing back at you just in case you go back on your word. you let out a loud laugh when you opened the box, alarming sohee to run back to your unit. he watched as you laughed at the transparent dildo and condom inside the box, gulping nervously— he didn’t even know there was a condom inside.
”you got me, this is a new one,” you wiped the tears forming on your eyes, grabbing the heavy toy with your hand. seeing as how sohee was still around, you could tell he was worried about the aftermath of it all. you chewed on your bottom lip, “but, this isn’t how it goes, right?” your voice dropped, smiling when you saw the cute boy in front of you swallow audibly.
you hummed, closing the box with a playful frown on your face, “you should do your prank properly.” sohee was beet red at this point, thoughts swirling in his head as you smiled at him so prettily. he couldn’t help it, you were standing in front of him all dolled up and smiley— there was no way he’d say no if you’re the one asking.
”c-can i?”
you bit back your laughter, staring at sohee in fascination as he watched you cutely. you stepped back, gesturing for him to come inside your place. sohee hesitated at first, stepping inside and letting out a deep breath at how good you smelled now that he was nearer to you.
”well? do i have to spell it out?” sohee shook his head, fiddling with the button on his pants. you giggled, leaning closer to give him a peck on the cheek. sohee was adorable, and he was even more adorable when he’s flustered like this.
“u-um, this is legal, right?” you laughed at his choice of words, nodding quickly. sohee took that as a sign of consent, clammy hands reaching out to hold your waist. you let out a soft chuckle when sohee began to close the space between you two, lips trembling as he first pressed a kiss against your lips. you smiled, returning the kiss happily as you let him lead the pace. the kiss felt awkward at first, sohee’s lips trembling uncontrollably and your noses hitting a few times before you two even got it right thanks to your intervention. you placed your hand on the side of his neck, guiding him properly as your nails teasingly graze over his skin.
sohee began to drown in your kisses, getting swept away by how sweet you were. he could taste mint in your mouth, it didn’t take long for him to get needier, plump lips moving desperately against yours. sohee pushed his tongue inside your mouth, groaning when you playfully pushed his tongue away with yours. he kept biting your lip, drawing out soft moans from you as you hold onto him tightly.
sohee ran his hands all over your body, squeezing down on your waist as you began to feel weak against his touch. you tapped his neck, signaling that you were running out of air. sohee pulls away, looking at you with huge eyes, chuckling when he saw how he messed your pretty lipstick up. your lips were all swollen and sore, parted as you tried to catch your breath.
you smiled mischievously when sohee ran his tongue through his bottom lip, bringing attention to how your lipstick rubbed off on him as well. you leaned in to place a wet kiss on his neck, eliciting a low moan from the cute boy in front of you. sohee held your neck, stopping you from teasing him. he took a deep breath as he looked at you with wide eyes, “you still up for that offer?” you felt shivers when he spoke with a low tone, nodding without much thought.
sohee undid his pants immediately, grunting at the painful tent he had between his legs. you licked your lip, getting in position as sohee rubbed himself through his briefs. he swallowed thickly, watching as you looked up at him with a huge smile on your face. he pulled his hand away, staring in anticipation when you drew your face closer to his bulge.
the cute look of anticipation on his face made you want to tease him, placing a small kiss against his leaking tip, leaving a faint mark of your lipstick on the fabric. sohee shuddered, biting back the needy whines that threatened to spill out his lips. you teasingly licked his tip, getting a taste of his bitter precum.
you finally slip his briefs off, sohee’s cock springing out without warning, almost hitting you in the face. you giggled, “i think it’s happy to see me.” sohee nods, not thinking much of what you just said as he finally felt your hands on his bare cock. you licked the underside of his cock, giving extra attention to sohee’s crying tip. he let out a pained moan, brows furrowing as he watched your every movement intently. sohee wasn’t the type to have sexual fantasies about you because he always viewed you as an innocent, little crush so having you look up at him while playing with his cock drove him insane.
”you look so pretty,” he sighed out, making you smile in appreciation. you were so sure you looked like a mess right now, and yet he was calling you pretty. you envelop your mouth around his tip, sucking on the sensitive part before bobbing your head down. you easily take his length in, playfully focusing more on his tip because of the reactions you drew out of him. you begin to pump his cock with your hand with the intention of teasing only his tip.
sohee was a moaning mess, breathing heavily as he leaned against the wall for support. you were taking him so well, he couldn’t help but wrap his hand through your hair, wanting you to go deeper— he needed to feel you deeper. you looked up at him, pulling away to drag his tip against your tongue. he groaned at the sinful sight, “can i move you?” you smiled in response, wrapping your mouth back around his cock.
sohee gently grabbed your hair, watching as you moved according to his pace. you didn’t know if it was on purpose, but he kept hitting the spongy part of your mouth. it was making you gag and tear up but you didn’t complain. with bleary eyes, you could tell sohee was focusing on his pleasure, plump lip in between his teeth and his breathing getting more uneven.
you couldn’t help but look forward to what he was going to do when he cums. you didn’t mind it if he spilled inside, wanting to give him the pleasure of watching as his cum drips down your tongue. so it took you by surprise when he pulled away with a loud moan, running his hand against your head in an attempt to soothe your poor scalp as his cock twitched almost painfully after being denied. you couldn’t find the words, just staring up at him as he obviously tried to contain himself.
”get up for me, baby,” it took you a while to register his words that sohee had to pull you up from your knees to push you against the wall. he pushed your dress up, exposing a cute pink pair you had on. sohee lets out a chuckle, “you’re so cute.” everything was moving so fast that you can’t help but feel flustered as you got swept away. sohee held you up, lifting your thighs up as you wrap an arm around his neck while your other hand stayed on his chest for stability.
”needed to feel you on me before i cum, is that okay?” he muttered softly, one of his hand busily moving around. you nodded, staring curiously as he somehow rolled a condom over his cock, moaning softly as he pumped himself. sohee sighed, easily sinking his tip inside. you breathed shakily, reveling at how sohee slowly stretched you open. you wanted to moan out his name, but he never introduced himself so your hand by his chest played with the nametag he had on.
”seunghan?” sohee froze, face contorting in disgust at the mention of his friend’s name. you were confused, wondering why he stopped midway when you’re sure you were taking him properly. sohee stared at you with a frown, “that’s not my name.” you almost wanted to laugh at the stern expression he had on. “that’s what it says here, though,” you muttered defensively, tapping on the nametag he had on. he let out a defeated sigh as you laughed at his face.
”i’m serious, it’s not funny,” sohee pouted when you smiled. “it’s sohee,” he whispered against your ear but before you could repeat his name on your lips, he thrusted inside you roughly, making you cry out from the sudden action. “s-sohee,” you whimpered, nails digging against his clothed chest as he chuckled darkly. sohee hums, biting on your ear, “yeah, fuck, my name sounds better when you say it.”
”sohee,” his name rolled off your mouth perfectly as he moved deep inside you, consistently teasing your deepest parts. “fuck, you sound so pretty too,” sohee groaned, brows furrowing as he bucked his hips, drawing out whimpers from your lips as he thrusted back inside. the intensity made you slip down from the wall but sohee caught you in time, your hips floating midair as your hands grab desperately onto sohee so that he won’t drop you. sohee himself didn’t know where he got the strength, all he knew was that dropping you and stopping would be the last thing he wanted right now.
sohee’s pace began to get rougher, your body now angled up to hit your sensitive spot, making sohee smile as he leaned in to bite on your neck. “it feels good, sohee,” you cried out, clawing your hands down to his stomach. sohee shuddered at the contact, biting on your lobe, “yeah? am i doing good?” you bit your lip, glazed eyes trying to meet sohee’s eyes as you nodded dumbly.
your whole body began to tense up, orgasm approaching quick as sohee also started to thrust mindlessly, moaning softly against your neck. “are you close?” you whimpered, earning a choked yes from sohee. you licked your lip, desperately wanting to see sohee cum. “show me, sohee,” you whispered and sohee moaned softly as he focused on his orgasm, wanting to cum for you.
”cumming— fuck!” sohee cried out, sinking his body against yours as he spilled inside the rubber, the intensity of his orgasm making his head spin. you followed soon after, shuddering against him when he moved around. he almost lost it when you played with his hair, whispering praises against his ear. he looked up at you, feeling apologetic for cumming before you did but the playful smile on your face somewhat reassured him.
the two of you sank down the floor, giggling as both of you looked at each other. sohee had a cute smile, eyes disappearing and his adorable fangs popping out as he grinned. your eyes wandered towards his lips, and sohee took advantage of it. he leaned in to give you a kiss, already pushing his tongue inside while you struggled to keep up. sohee pulled away abruptly, grinning widely as he ran his hands up your thigh, “can i return the favor?”
you stared at him, your clouded mind trying to make sense of what he meant. before you could even answer, sohee slipped himself down between your legs, mischievous eyes looking up at you. his thumbs spread your folds apart as his arms push your tired thighs open for him. you gasped when sohee’s fingers played with your clit, feeling his tongue run up and down your slit.
sohee let out a groan at how sweet you tasted, desperately needing more from you. he lapped his tongue against your clit, eyes peeking up to see you propping yourself up to watch him. sohee smiles against your skin, placing a quick kiss on your folds before spreading you open. he bit on his lip as he unhooded your clit, your thighs trembling from sensitivity. “you look so pretty down here, too,” he whispered breathlessly before latching his mouth onto your throbbing clit.
”fuck— sohee!” you cried out, hips jerking against his face when sohee sucked on your clit. his thumb played with your dripping slick, moaning at how wet you got. sohee inserted his fingers inside, curling them against your soft walls. you whimpered, feeling your orgasm approaching once again as your walls clench down against sohee’s fingers. you breathily chant his name, hands reaching down to grab a handful of his hair. sohee kept his eyes on you, hands moving faster and tongue flicking against your clit as you slowly lose your mind. sohee was making you feel too good that you can’t speak straight, dumbly crying out for sohee’s name over and over.
with a flick of his wrist, you came undone, seeing hot flashes of white as you pull on sohee’s hair. you came a bit too intensely, all strength in your body leaving you as your orgasm washed over. sohee chuckles softly when you left a huge mess on your floor, licking his lip as you breathe heavily, head tipped over and eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion came over.
sohee lingered around a bit more, still watching over you as you laid on the floor. he didn’t quite know if he can go further inside to help you clean up or if he should just leave. “you okay?” you opened your eyes to see sohee hovering over you, his hands gently holding yours. you let out a broken laugh at how lost he looked. sohee nervously played with your hands, “can i help you clean up?” you simply nodded and sohee disappeared almost quickly, coming back with a wet towel.
after getting cleaned up, you sat up and groaned at the pain you felt everywhere. sohee looked at you with concern and you knew he was waiting for you to ask for his help, not wanting to cross a line and misread everything, “can you help me get to my room?” sohee practically beamed as he nodded, hurriedly lifting you up as he stumbled around your apartment. you let him go around corners and go back out, giggling as you used this to your advantage and rested your head against his chest.
”oh, it’s not here,” sohee mumbled under his breath, still trying to find the way to your bedroom. when he finally found your room, sohee placed you down your bed, making up his mind to leave afterwards but the gentle tug you give his hand made sohee hesitate. sohee stared at you expectantly, wanting to hear you tell him to stay— because he will.
a small smile formed on your lips when sohee spoke before you, “if i ask to stay, will you let me?” you giggled at his question, nodding, ”please do.”
since that day, you haven’t been ordering pizzas but that didn’t mean sohee doesn’t come by from time to time—
⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
⌇ WANNA BE A WINNER 𓄹
❪ ꕤ ❫───엔하이픈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍
OR. he is used to you chasing after him . . . so what happens when the tables are turned ? && crush!en- x f!reader % hc format ( jealousy, pet names, mention of food, kissing )
𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 doesn't think twice when he sees you on the bleachers at his basketball game, because he's gotten so used to seeing you there, cheering him on whenever he scores and waving enthusiastically when he looks your way... only to find himself doing a double take when he notices you talking to the members of the opposition's team. stands there for a while with a tilted head as he wonders why it is you're giggling and twirling your hair, batting your eyelashes at whatever it was the guy was saying. and he really shouldn't have been so annoyed, seeing as you're free to talk to whoever you like... but for some reason, he finds himself purposely missing a shot and causing the ball to roll over to where you and your friends are sitting, just so he has an excuse to walk over there after your pick up the ball, before kissing you on the cheek as he takes ball back. "thanks, baby," he says, before walking away again.... but of course, not without one last cocky smirk to the other guy when he sees your flustered expression, and a promise to ask you out properly after he wins this game.
more under the cut !
𝐉𝐀𝐘, who has gotten used to seeing snacks on his desk along with little notes whenever he wakes up from his nap, feels like he's been thrown into an alternate universe when he looks up one day to find that his desk his completely empty. looks around, and asks his deskmate if you came by today, only for them to shake their head and say that they haven't seen you all day. doesn't think too much about it at first, thinking that you may be busy... only to notice that it continues a few days straight. decides to walk to your class one day, completely forgoing his usual nap, just to see if you're okay, because as much as he wouldn't admit it, anyone could tell he was worried about you. so imagine his surprise when he walks up behind you while you're talking to your friends, just to learn you've been doing it on purpose to make him miss you. crosses his arms and leans down to your ear with a smirk, causing your heart to fly out of your chest when you realise he was there all along. "okay, you win." because he really did miss you... maybe even more than you had planned.
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 probably takes a while to figure out that you're avoiding him, but only because he genuinely believes you when you say you're busy when he asks why you can't make it to his soccer game. he knows that you have a life outside of school, so he can't feel upset... but everyone (his teammates, his friends, his coach, his neighbour, his dog...) notices that he is walking around the field like a depressed puppy whose owner doesn't want to play with him, and it's all because you're not in your usual seat, cheering him on while wearing his number like you usually do. and it makes him realise just how much you were becoming his lucky charm, just as you had boldly proclaimed you would be. and so that's how he finds himself waiting for you after you're finished your classes for the day, before wrapping his arms around you in a hug, not caring about the wolf whistles and the cheers coming from all the students and teachers who stood watching around you, or the way you stuttered his name in protest because of how he was acting in public... all he could think about was how he was a fool for not making you his to begin with.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 can't remember when you haven't been next to him. from the first day of school, you were the one beside him, helping him in class whenever he had to catch up on work that he missed because of his figure skating career, saving him a seat on the bus because you knew he would always end up being five minutes late out of class. so when he comes back from a week off from school, he is visibly taken aback when you walk in and take a seat at the front of the classroom, next to some other guy who he didn't even know existed until now. doesn't buy it for a second when his new seatmate explains that you had to switch because you had trouble seeing, and burns holes into the back of your head for the entire lesson, intensifying his glare when you and your new seatmate are a tad too close for comfort, heads bumping against each other as you whisper about the answers to the questions, like you used to do with sunghoon. can't seem to catch you alone for the rest of the day, so he waits for the end of the day, when you guys catch the bus together, and makes sure that he gets there before you do... so that when you try and sit next to someone else, he pulls you down in the seat he saved next to him, before leaning his head on your shoulder, his hand wrapped around your smaller one. "stay here, please..." because you’re the only one he wants beside him, and he wants to be the only one next to you.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 knows immediately that something isn't right when you don't ask for his help with your club projects. being in the photography club, you love to remind him how he is your favourite model, and you make it painfully obvious whenever you beg him to let you take his pictures. imagine his surprise and offense when you no longer seek him out first, but some other guy in a different class, who you keep positing pictures of on the school newsletter, where you used to post his pictures instead. he instantly makes a plan to win you back and become your favourite once again, even going as far as to rock up to school the next day with blonde hair that makes everyone stop and stare... except you, the person who is usually the first to jump on the train of people to praise him. he realises at that moment that this goes beyond just his pride; he genuinely just wants to be able to make you smile like before. so imagine your surprise when you open the newsletter for the next week, to find a candid photo of you looking at your camera, hair blowing in the wind and a smile on your face, with the caption "prettiest girl in our grade" followed by, "taken by kim sunoo".
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 does not beat around the bush. so the first time you walk by him in the hallway without so much as uttering a "hi," he immediately knows he needs to confront you about it, because not a single day has passed in the time that you've known each other where you haven't jumped on him (figuratively, of course) whenever the chance arises so you can chat his ear off about something or other. and he doesn't like the feeling he gets seeing you give him the cold shoulder for reasons he has no idea about. so the next time you pass him by without saying anything, he's grabbing your wrist and tugging you down the hallway, ignoring the squeals from your friends as he pulls you into the janitor's closet. "why are you avoiding me?" he demands, frowning. but then the two of you are rendered blushing incoherent messes when you try to escape the room... only to trip on your own two feet and fall into his arms, your lips bumping against each other in the process. (but even though it's an accident, jungwon thinks that he really likes this feeling alot.)
𝐍𝐈-𝐊𝐈 is an absolute menace, and you are probably one of the only people in the world other than his mother that can put up with him. it really surprises people to see you follow him around, cooking him bentos and fixing his tie for him because he always fails at doing it himself, only to find out that you're not his girlfriend. ni-ki himself probably doesn't even realise how much you've been taking care of him until you stop showing your face around his classroom at lunch, and no longer nag him about his uniform or his hair being messy. instead, he's left to watch as you turn around whenever you see him, purposely changing paths so you don't bump into each other. no one is surprised when he jumps over a fence just so he can catch up to you after you try to run away after making eye contact with him for the hundredth time. you end up blurting your feelings for him before he can ask, and while you brace yourself for rejection, he's already kissing you like he hasn't seen you for months... and wondering why he never did it sooner.
© CHACONNENHA / dividers by v6que
Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels
Synopsis: Love portrayed in different kinds of ways and worlds.
🥀 Heeseung: Sanctuary (Love Epiphany)
genre: angst, smut, fluff
"Will you believe me if I told you that you're my whole sky? Dazzling like the orange sun, prettier than the sinking sunset over the glistening cerulean sea. You are my calm during the night. Will you believe me if I said that from the start to finish, you're the one I've prayed for?"
Preview
🌌 Jay: Chatoyant (Soulmate)
genre: angst, fluff, smut
"Every waking day, I asked the sun to look after your well being. Every sleepless night, I wished for the moon to let you be safe. I implored the whole universe to guide you back to me. Here, in my arms. So I could marry you like I always promised. So you could love me like how I deserve it."
Preview
🪐Jake: Idyllic (Mutual Pining)
genre: fluff, angst, smut
"How many times do I stumble down this dead end? How many times should I meet all these wrong people just to meet the right, destined one? Tell me, how long should I tolerate more of this suffering? When will I be able to leave this hell hole? When the sweet happiness finally has turned into an ugly resentment?"
Preview
❄️ Sunghoon: Quintessence (Forbidden Love)
genre: angst, smut, fluff
"Do my words mean nothing to you unless they are on an old paper, written metaphorically? Are any of my sentences and paragraphs trash just because they don't rhyme poetically? Then, what if we let the stars align tonight, by chance, by fate, by destinies and against all odds, will you allow me to enter your life?"
Preview
🤍 Sunoo: Labyrinth (Unexpected Love)
genre: fluff, angst, suggestive
"These pretty faces won't be the reason why I'll let myself fall in love again. I will not accept someone who brings an unreasonably expensive bouquet only during special occasions. I can't make any promises anymore, not in a tranquil and joyful way. Please forgive me, because if I open my heart again, I don't think I will be ready for it to bleed until I die."
Preview
🍀 Jungwon: Ephemeral (Second Chances)
genre: angst, fluff, suggestive
"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."
Preview
🪷 Riki: Paradox (Enemies to Lovers)
genre: angst, fluff, suggestive
"No, not once did I question the moment where I felt like drowning when you decided to walk the other way, turning your back on me. Surprise was the last emotion I felt when someone took my spot once I'm out of the picture. The only thing that is wrong here is me. I made the mistake of asking you the truth, then choosing to believe the untrue."
Preview
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a/n: again, another one that's in my drafts for so long, i had to post this and add to the masterlist ig. feel free to message, send an ask, or comment under this post if you want to be added to the taglist :3
inumaki toge: don't try to be a genius
blurb inumaki made it a mission to figure out why you’re acting so strange around him. he considered everything except a crush. (a 3+1 fic)
# fluff, based off twice song, friends to lovers, wc 2k
the first time starts with accidental hand holding.
in all honesty, maybe you should’ve figured you would slip sooner than later. a harmless crush—now harmful given the situation with your peers, mostly named gojo satoru and panda—is impossible to hide when the first thing on your mind isn’t romance, but bloody murder.
it was a day that was not dissimilar to a vacation.
unfortunately, students like you aren’t quite the type to be given day-offs like 20% off coupons in sunday newspapers. so when gojo-sensei said “be free, my flock! make your mama bird proud!!” like the fucking weirdo he is, all of you should’ve known that curses would be crawling everywhere in your given ‘vacation’ destination.
“if you drop one bag, i’ll kill you,” says nobara. “and don’t you dare drop maki-senpai’s bag or i’ll kill you again!”
maki shrugs at your confused look, though she looks amused. she always allows nobara to suck up to her, but everyone else is as good as gone if they try.
yuuji, local maid of the first years and now the second years, sighs. “yes, ma’am, i understand.”
you walk in a leisurely pace beside nobara and inumaki. it’s both heaven and hell, and not in the way anyone would think. hell, because the love of your life is literally right beside you and looks so content you want to pinch him. heaven, because your best friend is right there to calm you down.
panda and yuuji launch into an insightful debate about which restaurant should you all go to for dinner, and everyone else joins in the conversation, save for you and inumaki, who are happy to listen to them.
“what do you think, y/n?” yuuji asks.
“hmm,” you pretend to be deep in thought, “fushiguro-kun has good taste so i vote whatever he votes.”
megumi flushes red. inumaki makes a noise to say that he agrees with you.
they continue with their debate. you’re happy to eat wherever as long as you stay with your friends.
your hand brushes against something warm and soft; on instinct, you want to curl into it like a cat, but when you look down and realize who those hands belong to, you panic.
—oh my god that’s inumaki-senpai’s hand—
with a flinch that’s strong enough to make nobara jostle from beside you, you dart away from inumaki.
nobara splutters, ready to have your head chopped off for disturbing personal space, but abruptly stops at the sight of your round-eyed stare directed at your own hands. it takes one glance at the object of your affection to realize what’s going on.
inumaki blinks, startled and confused. “mustard leaf?” he asks you, looking around for any sign of danger.
unless you all happen to walk past a mirror shop, you doubt he’d find anything life-threatening.
“what? what happened?” yuuji looks extremely alarmed at the sight of your distressed face. “y/n…?”
“nothing!” you’re quick to exclaim before everyone else asks. “sorry, just, uhhh—” panicked because i almost held inumaki’s hand like it was second nature.
you rush to yuuji’s side and distract him with a half-baked excuse, away from an amused nobara and a confused inumaki. if anyone notices you pointedly steering clear from inumaki, they don’t say anything.
you sit next to yuuji and fushiguro, despite inumaki leaving space for you.
it goes mostly normal for the rest of the night.
meanwhile, inumaki looks deeply perplexed at everyone acting like there’s an inside joke he’s not getting.
“inumaki? what’s up?”
maki quirks an eyebrow when inumaki slips a paper for her and panda to see. they read the words slowly, understanding dawning on their faces.
did i do something to upset y/n?, the note reads.
panda looks like he’s about to shit himself with how happy he looks. not an appropriate response, inumaki thinks, a little upset. “no, you didn’t do anything to upset y/n!” he says gleefully, which is like, totally suspicious.
“you’re so dumb,” maki rolls her eyes, flicking the paper back to him. it lands on his head, and she pats it. “you’ll figure it out soon.”
inumaki wants to figure it out now. he doesn’t like that you’re avoiding him, and he makes it clear with a mildly aggressive: “bonito flakes.”
maki and panda only laugh.
he makes it a mission to figure it out, much to your chagrin.
the second time starts, unfortunately, with gojo-sensei. and this time. inumaki is acutely aware, unfortunately.
“my lovebirds!” gojo chirps with a happy clap. you grimace and inumaki makes a confused noise. “my wonder duo! are you both up for some high-ranking missions, hm?”
“sensei, inumaki-senpai just got off from one,” you tell him.
inumaki shakes his head at you. “bonito flakes.”
gojo hums with amusement. “hmm? you want to do it?” and at your deadpan glare, gojo grins, because he’s a maniac who knows about your silly high school crush. “he wants to do it! if y/n-chan only wants his say in it, then we’re good to go.”
gojo may act like a fool—and he is, honestly—but he’s right about one thing, and it’s how you and inumaki fall into unspoken ease with teamwork, one that’s strangely limited to the both of you.
halves of the same whole, nanami once said. you didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s because you are in love with your supposed other half.
you assure gojo that it’s only because inumaki is strong enough to protect both him and his teammate, and gojo calls bullshit and says no matter what your technique is, you and inumaki make a formidable pair despite the year difference.
the thought of that makes you a little happy. and gojo takes advantage of that by sending you both off to missions more than anyone else.
but you don’t mind, not really. not when you get to spend time with inumaki, who’s so easy to be around with.
inumaki seems pleased that the Vacation-Day-Incident is long forgotten and you two fall back into a friendly routine.
“inumaki-senpai, here.” you toss him a small bottle of cough syrup you like to carry around in case of emergencies.
he looks surprised at the sight of it. “tuna mayo?”
“ah, yeah,” you chuckle sheepishly. “i notice you run out sometimes when it gets too rough so i always have extras with me.”
inumaki has a funny expression on his face, and it’s one he makes when he’s frustrated he can’t say what he wants to.
you clear your throat. “you don’t have to thank me, it’s no trouble—oh, what are you—”
inumaki shuts you up by taking your hand and gently kissing your knuckles.
you make a noise that’s somewhere between a yelp and a strangled squeal, which he seems to find amusing.
you know he did that to show gratitude when he can’t express it verbally, but did he have to do it like That…?
you feel your face heat up and you pull away from him like you’ve been burnt, missing the displeased frown on his face. “um! gojo-sensei is probably waiting for us.”
inumaki’s gaze is intense. “mustard leaf?”
inumaki feels like you’re pushing him away again. maybe you’re uncomfortable around him? that seems most likely. no one else had flinched from his presence that way before.
inumaki feels a bit sad, now. he’s not sulking—maybe—but gojo pats him on the back and wishes him luck and to push through with his mission. (inumaki never told anyone about it, but it’s gojo-sensei and he knows everything so he accepts it with a nod of gratitude.)
all in all, it was a very unfortunate end to the day.
the third time it happens, you’re stuck in a forest with him.
it’s a mission involving all of the first years along with inumaki (he found you guys on his way back) this time, and still, you end up alone with inumaki. it’s like the universe is conspiring against you or something.
or maybe it’s nobara not-so-subtly pushing you to inumaki’s direction every five minutes.
you don’t mind.
“yuuji-kun sure attracts trouble like a magnet, hm?” you muse, jumping over a root tall enough to reach your thigh.
inumaki smiles. “salmon.”
“i can’t help but worry, though,” you sigh. inumaki nudges you with an elbow until you look at his silent expression. “yeah, yeah, yuuji-kun is strong. and nobara and fushiguro-kun are strong enough to protect him, but it’s so—bleurgh.”
inumaki seems to accept your explanation. “tuna.”
you check the weather. “d’you think we should hurry up—”
“explode!”
that was not your voice.
alarmed, you turn your gaze back straight ahead. you almost trip over your own feet at the sight of a deformed caterpillar-like sludge creature that crawls out from the trees, similar to the one inumaki just killed.
the curse claws at your face.
you recoil from its grasp. “oh, gross!” you pierce your sword through it and watch it fizzle out of existence, flailing limply in your blade. you twist it around just to make sure. “that was gross,” you repeat.
“mustard leaf?” without warning, inumaki takes hold of your chin—NNHHHGG????!—for his eyes to roam around your face to check for any scratches.
you love that he’s getting comfortable with you, you really do. best friends forever, or something like that. but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to freak out about it when you quite literally feel his breath on your face.
you sputter some excuse and hurry away from him, heart pounding.
inumaki goes still, eyes stuck on the spot you were standing on before you ran away.
the frantic looks directed to anywhere but him, the embarrassed noises, the stammering—
maybe you’re already in a relationship?
he’s not sure what to feel about this mission anymore.
inumaki toge is standing outside your room.
yuuji spots him as he’s on his way back to his, and waves. “inumaki-senpai? what are you doing here?”
inumaki waves back and points at your door. “tuna tuna.”
“oooh, we’re at that part, alright,” says yuuji like that it isn’t the most cryptic dialogue one has ever heard. “do you want me to check if y/n’s there?”
“katsuobushi.”
“okay, okay! don’t look at me like that.” yuuji laughs. “i’ll leave ya to it. good luck, senpai!”
“mustard leaf…”
inumaki shakes his head and knocks on your door.
there’s a confused snort from the other side. you probably just woke up, inumaki thinks to himself with a small smile, and it doesn’t fade when you open the door, disheveled.
your eyes widen. “i-inumaki-senpai?” you blurt out louder than intended. both of you can hear a poorly stifled cackle from nobara’s room.
inumaki holds out his phone, letting you read out the words pre-written on the screen: i came here to apologize.
“what? wait, wait— what? what happened?”
inumaki types on his phone for a few seconds. i made you uncomfortable the past few days. i didn’t mean to do that.
you stare at him, blinking slowly. “made me… uncomfortable… what…?” then— “oh. oh! oh no, no, no. no, ahh this is so embarrassing.”
“mustard leaf…?” inumaki instinctively reaches out to you, but then stops himself when he remembers what he’s here for in the first place.
“inumaki,” you laugh in disbelief, “why are you apologizing as if it’s your fault i have a crush on you?”
what?
he gapes—he’s sure he’s gaping, but he can’t help it. his jaw drops even more when you don’t take it back, or even announce that you’re joking. you’re not joking. with a finger scratching the nape of your neck, you smile sheepishly. “i thought i was being obvious, but maybe not…?”
inumaki can’t help but mutter a soft, “oh” of realization.
it turns out he’s got it all wrong.
“oh,” says inumaki again.
he curses, and then shoves his phone away to take your hands. “salmon!” he exclaims, and he sounds so relieved and happy and you’re looking like you want to run away again. “salmon.”
“i’m sorry, i’m not sure what you mean—”
inumaki huffs and pulls his collar down. he’ll just show you.
it ends with a kiss.
remember when i said when i write jjk fics it would only be for inumaki? yeah well. TA DAAAAA ( ´ ▿ ` ) you should be worried tbh bc i literally have no idea wtf im doing with these characters
★ silly stickers — itoshi rin
꠴ itoshi rin x fem!reader
content: established relationship, mentions of bruises and fights, stickerzz!!
"you're silly."
rin doesn't respond, as he has the last two times you've said that. aside from your occasional repeated comment, the only sound filling your small kitchen was the clattering of rin's chopsticks against the bowl in front of him, and the sticker sheets that fill the rest of the table.
with a bored pout on your face, you peel off a particularly glittery sticker, not hesitating to boop it right over his bandaged nose. "silly."
his eyes lift from his food to glare at you, which is also what he's done for the past three— now four times you've called him that. the two of you stare at each other silently before you break the eye contact, peeling off a heart sticker and smacking it right on his forehead. after all, it's kind of difficult to find him intimidating when his cheeks are stuffed with food.
right when you were going to pull your hand back, he grabs onto your wrist, stopping you midair. "stop it." his voice sounds slightly muffled to your ears as he's shoved whatever was in his mouth into one cheek.
"why?" you shimmy your arm out of his grasp, picking up another fresh sheet. "you didn't stop when i told you not to get into another fight."
silence. that one got him.
three seconds pass. rin's eyes narrow at you, then averting his gaze as he continues chewing. the air didn't feel as tense as you thought it would be, as if rin's managed to find a way to telepathically communicate that he's sorry in some way.
he really is silly, getting hit in the face like that. is he not worried about injuries? is he not worried that his poor attempts at hiding the bandage would cause his own girlfriend to be so pissed at him? seriously... you don't even want to imagine what that bruise looks like right now.
and here you are, using stickers to take out your frustration. "silly, silly, silly." your insults are starting to sound more sweet, lips curling from how cute he looks being all grumpy.
your canvas knows no bounds as his face runs out of space, expanding to his neck and hands. he can only sit there and endure your "punishment", because he'd rather have stickers all over him than have you genuinely upset with him.
a/n: plot? whats that? we dont need that...
👁️❔❔❔
pairing: neighbor!wonbin x f!reader
genre: neighbors to lovers, babysitting!au (kinda)
warnings: reader has a baby brother, mentions of reader blushing, 2k
a/n: my first riize fic ^^ i hope yall enjoy this hehe
back to masterlist !
“you know, you shouldn’t even be here right now.”
“yn.”
wonbin’s tone is stern and you cross your arms, letting out a loud huff to show your discontentment. from your position in the kitchen, you can stare at your neighbor-turned-babysitter all day, but you’re currently angry, so you opt to pout and grumble instead.
you can clearly hear wonbin sigh in defeat and you watch him lean back on his arms on the floor from the corner of your eye. he’s a few feet away from your little brother, giving him enough space to draw in his coloring book.
the handsome boy (you’re angry, but not blind) turns to you, black hair perfectly framing his stupidly pretty face. your eyes fall to his lips for a second. one second too long apparently because soon he starts to grin and you have no other option than to look away and pout again.
a chuckle leaves his mouth and it annoys you more than it should.
he tilts his head a bit and looks at you, eyes raking over your casual outfit. you’re really trying to not look his way, simply because you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing your attention is on him but you’re still curious as to why he seems more concentrated on you than on his job.
don’t look.
your hand covers your mouth as you spin your pen with your fingers, swiftly clicking on it before writing a new sentence in your notebook, elbow propped up on the kitchen island.
all the while you flip a few pages in your textbook to get to a new chapter of history, wonbin hums, high fiving your brother when the latter shows him his colorful drawing.
you swear you’re not paying attention, but the way you can hear him smiling as he speaks softly makes your face burn, ears turning red. he’s good with kids, and although you’re supposed to be pissed at your parents– and thus him– you can’t help but admit he’s doing a good job.
you would have done a good job too, you tell yourself.
your hand stills over the counter, pen inches away from the paper. in not even one second, you went from being productive and finally getting some homework done to thinking about wonbin and his pretty eyes.
you hate this, because you swear you’re angry at him. or at least you’re supposed to.
deep down you know that the so-called hatred you have for him right now is a way to stop you from thinking about what you really feel for your neighbor.
gosh, his eyes are just so pretty.
maybe you’re overreacting a bit too. maybe you’re being a bit dramatic, because the way wonbin starts to frown as he notices your brows furrow makes your heart throb.
you had decided to sit at the kitchen island to do your homework, because the kitchen table seemed a bit too close to the living room. but now that you’re actually in the kitchen, you realize you’re facing him (and your little brother, of course) and if you’d even look up for one second, eye contact would be guaranteed.
this sucks, you think, as you slide off the barstool and wander deeper into the kitchen. maybe if you’d fake looking for something to eat in the fridge, he would finally look away.
without really being thirsty, you grab the first carton you find and move to pour yourself a glass of whatever said carton contains. ah, apple juice it is.
you think you’re finally starting to get more comfortable in your own home after wonbin’s arrival but then he lets out a giggle– one that you find absolutely adorable too– and your lips freeze on the brim of your glass, head snapping towards the living room. “what.” you almost bark out, eyes fierce.
“it’s nothing,” wonbin has to swallow a laugh and divert his eyes, waving his hand in front of his. “don’t worry about it!”
you put your glass down on the counter and put a hand on your hip, eyes big and confused. “tell me,” you just watch as he lets out another giggle at your desperate tone, “c’mon! i’m gonna think you’re making fun of me if you don’t tell me.”
“your slippers,” this time wonbin looks at you, really looks at you. he sees how your eyes go wide and how your nose twitches in surprise. he sees how your lips fall open and gape at him and he sees how eyelashes flutter when you blink rapidly. he speaks up again, still looking at you, “they’re cute.” you’re cute.
“ah,” you nod, a bit surprised.
“you can compliment me back, y’know”
“i can literally kick you out right now.”
wonbin only puts his two hands up, a teasing smile clear on his lips as he admits defeat.
–
it’s slowly getting darker outside, the sun disappearing behind the houses in your neighborhood.
you’re on the last page of your essay when wonbin closes the living room curtains and finally agrees to your brother’s request of watching his favorite film. you find it rather domestic, how he’d hauled your brother from the floor to the couch and how he’d draped your blanket over the both of them.
the disney film is on pause as your brother babbles about his classmates, excitedly recounting yesterday’s events. you go to turn on the stove to prepare dinner and smile to yourself when your brother mentions the solar planet you had helped him make for his science fair. you smile even bigger when wonbin applauds him and makes him promise to show him one day, because he has to see how good you two are (his words).
when the water is boiling in the pot and you’ve stacked and pushed aside all your school work to prepare for dinner, you don’t directly realize you set the table for three until wonbin points it out, leaning casually against the fridge.
“i didn’t know i was invited for dinner.”
you shrug in an effort to act as casual as he is, but it comes off as rather stiff so you just turn away, mindlessly stirring the pasta. “well, i wouldn’t want you to starve. who else would my parents turn to when they’re in need of a babysitter?” certainly not me.
you’re clearly still a bit bitter that your parents don’t trust you to babysit your own brother.
wonbin just laughs, like he’s having the most fun knowing you’re irritated at him for replacing your “part-time job”. you send him a nasty glare and it only makes him chuckle more, obviously entertained by your displeasure.
he goes to lean on the counter next to you as he watches you do your magic, as per your brother’s words, and lightly bumps his elbow into yours. “c’mon, i know you’re not really mad at me for being here.”
you flick his crossed arms and check to see if the pasta is not overcooked. “i just don’t understand why they’d waste money to get a babysitter for him when i literally exist and live here!” okay, so maybe you’re not being hundred percent honest and are more pissed about the babysitter being wonbin than the waste of money but he doesn’t have to know that.
wonbin continues to stare at your face, tracing your side profile with his eyes. “i offered to babysit, and your dad knows i’ve been saving up for a car...” his smile is teasing when he shrugs as you send him a glare.
“and what if i was saving up for a car? you’d be ruining my chances to do so.” you’re stubborn and not letting go.
your neighbor, who’s actually way too close to you for your liking (you’re sure he can count your beauty marks with how close he is) stifles a laugh. “we both know you’re not saving up for a car,” his voice insists on the ‘not’ and you know he sees you rolling your eyes. “besides, you don’t need one.”
the pasta looks good as you go to grab two oven mitts, glancing at wonbin from the corner of your eye. you’re confused and he knows because not even a second later and he’s grabbing the oven mitts from your hands and carrying the pasta to the kitchen table. “i can always just drive you around, y’know. contrary to what you think, i do actually enjoy your presence, babe.”
when his words register in your brain, you can’t seem to move from your spot in the kitchen and wonbin finds it all too cute, smiling while ushering your little brother to sit at the end of the table.
babe. babe? “babe?” your fingers find wonbin’s hand, wrapping slowly around his wrist when he walks past you to get some glasses. he stops in his tracks, tilting his head a bit and smirking at your surprised gaze and vulnerable tone.
he just nods, the top of his cheeks blushing only for a fraction of a second. unbeknownst to you, his heart is beating like crazy. “shouldn’t i have called you that? you don’t like it?”
you shake your head, still startled from him calling you by an affectionate nickname, something he had never done before and something you would have never guessed he would ever do.
“It’s alright,” you say, voice suddenly shakier than usual, “i didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
your fingers let go of his wrist but he doesn’t directly move away, staring at the way your other hand is holding tightly onto the kitchen counter. he notices how you’re reaching for the utensils but your mind is focusing on something else, your fingers absentmindedly pulling the kitchen drawer open.
suddenly, wonbin feels a pang of guilt. he can’t seem to decipher what the expression on your face means but he’s worried he might have gone too far, or that you’re too far gone in your head.
“hey,” his voice startles you out of your thoughts, “are you sure it’s okay? i can stop if you want–”
“no!-” your panicked tone startles him a bit and you clear your throat, fiddling with one of the rings on your fingers, “i mean, i– i didn’t mind it? i quite liked it.”
wonbin’s eyes widen a bit, surprised but thrilled. “oh.”
“yeah.”
the short awkward silence between the two of you gets interrupted by your younger brother’s complaints, and you quickly move past wonbin to serve the youngest one in the house a big plate of spaghetti (his favorite).
it’s only when you’re seated at the table that you realize wonbin’s marched over and took your plate, serving you before him. he looks almost ethereal under the warm kitchen lights and you can’t help but stare, this time not caring about getting caught.
the pasta looks extra good when he puts your plate down in front of you and your stomach grumbles at the sight, earning a slight chuckle from the boy in front of you.
your baby brother’s focus is entirely on his dinosaur shaped fork, which wonbin takes as an opportunity to reach over the table and grab your hand, drawing a stifled gasp out of you. his thumb is rubbing circles on the back of your palm and your hand feels heavy but comfortable in his grasp.
your gaze travels from your intertwined fingers to his face and you almost melt at the soft look in his eyes. it almost looks like he’s in love.
he is, but you don’t know that. yet.
“let me take you out on a date, please.”
the way his voice gets stuck in his throat and his tone gets breathier tells you everything you have to know and you squeeze his hand lightly in a comforting manner. he anxiously bites the inside of his cheek while he waits for your answer and he’s glad you don’t see his leg bouncing up and down under the table.
“i would love to, wonbin.” your cheeks turn red and your lips automatically curl, revealing the smile wonbin likes so much.
the stress leaves his body the second the words leave your mouth and he suppresses a nervous laugh, free hand coming up to push his hair back.
“yeah?”
“of course,” your smile is contagious when you nod, “how could i say no to you?”
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please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove
vanilla soft serve
Word count: 14.7k
Warnings: smut
Summary: you smile foolishly, the smile of a loser in love
Nagito Komaeda doesn't like himself.
He feels he's established it a lot with his class already. There was little to question when the island only had 16 students and two of them were already dead. Though, he supposes that it isn't that much. He wonders who's going to feed him. He scared Mahiru out, after all. Maybe Mahiru would die from the second motive! That would surely bring his class hope, would it not? He shifts uncomfortably on the wood, trying to get on his back. How pathetic of him.
Little light spills through the room. He had forgotten to ask Mahiru to turn the lights on before she left. He gives up halfway, staring up at the ceiling instead. Would you visit him? His precious little lover? Maybe you would. Who knows. You seemed pretty fine when he had gone insane during the first trial. Maybe you'd leave him for another ultimate. Maybe Hajime? Who knows. Trash like him doesn't deserve to hang on to you anyways. You're such a symbol of hope, yet you were dirtying yourself with him.
The door to the room opens, and the light turns on. He hears you cough twice.
"Did you come to visit trash like me?"
You ignore his words.
Ah. You're mad.
Komaeda holds his breath as you step in front of him, staring down at him. You crouch to his level, buttering the toast, crossing your legs, holding the bread to his lips.
"Angel, are you ma-"
You shove the food in his mouth, forcing him to chew. You stare blankly at him as he does, and he swallows. You press the cup of water to his lips, being kind enough to give him a straw. Komaeda drinks without speaking, understanding that you wanted some sort of quiet. He finishes the rest of the food with your help, staring at you blankly once the tray is finished.
"I'm sorry." The word feels dry on his lips, and he keeps his head hung.
You stare at him for what seems like forever before you stand up with the tray. "I'll be back for lunch."
Komaeda watches the door to the room close, but the light remains.
How kind of you.
You come back during lunch as promised; this time, the atmosphere much gentler.
"Open up," You blow on the rice and meat, holding it to Komaeda's lips. He chews, sitting up this time, his stomach in less pain. He was bony all over, now that he thought about it. You stare at the way his skin sticks to his ribs, and you get another spoonful of rice.
The two of you sit there, Komaeda eating silently, and you lost in thought. You finish the bowl, no rice left behind, and you help the straw to Komaeda's lips. He finishes the juice and pauses.
"Do... you have the key?"
"Give it a moment." You wait for the body announcement to be made, and Komaeda watches as you have Monomi untie him. You follow behind him as he rushes to the bathroom first.
You're still not talking to him.
You wait outside the door as he finishes, and he takes your hand as you reach out to him. You step to the game, and you play. Komaeda instructs you from behind, and the two of you finish. You stare at the prize. Between the killing and executions, Komaeda wonders if you even like him all that much. You hand him the image, and you stare at him. Ah, you want him to talk.
"Well," Komaeda smiles. "I know who the killer is."
"I know you do." You stare at the picture in your hands.
Komaeda thinks you've been strange. Ever since meeting him in middle school, the only thing you had obsessed over was what year it was and what would happen. You had gone to the point of obsessing it to the point of madness, Komaeda thinks. The only thing you had ever talked about when you woke up on the island was who was going to reveal what and what was going to happen to who. You had accurately predicted the death of Twogami, revealing Teruteru as the killer, yet Komaeda had gone mad anyways. You had told him to stay sane during the trip. It wouldn't be the first time someone's been frustrated with him.
Komaeda feels something familiar for you.
You stare at the photo with such a strong sense of nostalgia that it seems hard to believe that it could be anything else. Nagito Komaeda knew something that you did as well. Maybe that was why you picked him. He had the fastest brain that even Hinata couldn't use. Maybe he was meant to be a pretty tool to display in your arsenal that you would never touch. You never let him touch you first, and you never let him do anything without consulting you first. It was as if you had to control what he did.
Yet, he doesn't find it in himself to question you.
He had spent a year in Hope's Peak with you. What did you mean he was eighteen? It was already messed up from the start to you, maybe. Komaeda had watched you panic and only calm down when the future seemed to play out how you predicted it would. You were terribly anxious, chewing on your lips and biting your nails. Komaeda wonders if you had just dated him in order to have a caretaker. Komaeda supposes he spoils you rotten. Well, nothing wrong with spoiling an ultimate.
"What's wrong?" He stares at you as you stare at the sun.
"I miss my home."
Right. There was that too. You had always mumbled quietly when you were fazed out, silently praying for something to kill you. Komaeda didn't understand why you wanted to die so desperately. You were an ultimate, and you had everything you had seemed to want, yet you always talked about home. You missed... your home. It was strange to think that the only constant in his life was desperate to leave him. Maybe he was just destined to be alone.
You had stuck next to him even as Hinata was passed out, and you had rocked on your feet anxiously as he had met the other students, memorizing voice lines and counting fingers. You seemed to hate when you were unfamiliar with things. Komaeda held a hand over yours when you ran out of fingers, helping you keep count of whatever it was you were counting. When you counted to sixteen, you had stopped. You had looked at Komaeda, lips pulled into a frown. "Complete."
Komaeda's handbook had struck a chord when you finished meeting everyone and told him it was complete. His memory of you wasn't like that the more he thinks about it. You had always tried staying positive in the past, even when you seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the street, head spinning. You didn't know what he was saying. You didn't understand him. You were just a foreigner lost in the streets of Tokyo, and Komaeda had been kind enough to take you in. There was nothing more to it, and there was nothing less.
It's strange to think that you were now fluent in Japanese after only a handful of lessons from Komaeda.
When Komaeda won the lottery into Hope's Peak, you had written a letter to the Steering Committee, claiming you were an isekai victim. Komaeda had vouched, and after some digging into records, yours didn't come up, leading to your admittance. He doesn't know what you had to do in order to join the school, but when you headed home quietly and slumped into the pillows, he knew better than to ask.
The ultimate unknown.
You hated the title, but you had accepted it. In exchange, you were to reveal nothing to the class and stay silent at all times. Komaeda had watched you stop talking to the class, going mute, only communicating with your body language. Even when you had asked Komaeda out, it had been through drawing on his palm away from the sight of the rest of the school. He didn't understand why you had listened to them so thoroughly or why you had grimaced whenever you saw the underclassmen. Though, Komaeda doesn't remember who the underclassmen were either.
His second year at Hope's Peak was on an island. There was no way he would know.
On the island, you still kept silent. The class knew you were quiet, so no one questioned it, but Komaeda had hoped you would at least speak to him. You didn't like to. You spoke even less when he pissed you off. You had known that he would kill Twogami and tried to interfere, and the only thing that resulted in was the murder being pinned on you. Komaeda had half-expected that you would thank him when he explained he planned it, but instead, you had stared quietly at him. It was as if you hadn't cared that he was pining the blame on you and taking it back.
When you had searched the body, you had stared at Komaeda. You hadn't spoke, but you had mouthed the words. He knew what you meant. He definitely knew what you meant. You were just waiting for him to make the decision himself. Even as he was being dragged off and begging for you to understand, you had stared lifelessly at him. It was as if you were desensitized and didn't care at all. Komaeda doesn't know how a person like you exists.
You were weird.
You wander into Mahiru's room, staring at Komaeda, telling him to investigate without a word.
Komaeda thinks he was chosen to be your servant as you leave the cottage.
Yet, as you smack him in the back of his head and bow to Chiaki and Hinata in apology, he thinks you take more than enough responsibility.
Before the trial, you always scribble down what you can and can't remember to hand to Hinata. It's a cheat sheet that Komaeda isn't allowed to look at. He wonders if they're love letters sometimes, but as you're crying and holding back quiet tears in your cottage in the dead of night, he leaves you be. Even if it was a love letter, he wasn't going to let you keep everything to yourself. Hinata had pushed through each trial without error, and Komaeda suspects that you had been behind everything. You were the puppetmaster, maybe.
You even got to punt Monokuma when you were mad enough.
Though, Komaeda stares at you during trials, forming words with your hands and crossing your arms when a student got something wrong. You were charismatic. He didn't deserve you, the class didn't deserve you, the world didn't deserve you. You knew what was going to happen, clinging onto Fuyuhiko with your life as he tried running to Peko, face burrowed into his arm as the rest of the class helped you hold him back. You couldn't speak in front of them, Komaeda had realized. You pull on Komaeda's sleeve desperately. He supposes that's all you need to do.
"Do not atone for a crime you did not commit." Komaeda reads your eyes. "You must survive for her. You must survive for Peko..." Komaeda gets on a knee to wipe the tears from your eyes. "The crime was not instigated by you, so there is no need to-"
"What do you mean it wasn't instigated by me?! I was the one who told her to kill her!"
"A lie." Komaeda holds you to his chest as you cry quietly. "It's a lie. She killed her out of her own volition."
"She-"
You pass out in Komaeda's arms, and Fuyuhiko grabs him by the shirt as Chiaki reaches to catch you.
Ah.
"I was just conveying my angel's words." Komaeda holds his hands up innocently.
You wake up the next morning to Hiyoko's memorial for Mahiru. The class berates the girl as you blow out the candles and replace them one by one. You have Nekomaru help you remove the skull, replacing it with flowers instead. You finish by the time of the announcement that a new island had popped up. Komaeda stares at the memorial, and you pull him with you as you go explore the new island. He praises you quietly under his breath, and you answer quietly too. You stick close to Fuyuhiko with Komaeda, peering at the shorter every now and then to make sure he's alright. Komaeda is almost jealous of how much attention you give him. Yet, you keep Komaeda close anyways.
As expected, the next day, Fuyuhiko tries cutting his stomach open to repent. You react immediately as soon as he speaks, knocking him down and throwing the knife from his hands, cutting your own in the process. You stare at him wide-eyed, holding your hands up in the form of an X. He stares up at you, furious that you would interrupt him, but you stare down at him sternly, only getting up to take the knife before he could. Komaeda watches everything unfold, wondering if he had done something wrong for you to straddle another. He doesn't question it.
Especially not when you press your lips to his cheek later that night before bed as he bandages your hand.
When he wakes up, he brushes his fingers against your hair, mumbling about how pretty you were. You were pretty. He doesn't know what draws him to you, but you're pretty. Maybe he'll wake up every morning to you.
"ah... how filthy," Komaeda doesn't register that his words are coming out wrong. He continues to pour praises about how pretty you are, the fever making it so that he thinks he's praising you. That's when he realizes he's sick. He's feverish all over, and you hadn't spoken when he draped himself on you, eyes fluttering, almost drunk. When the two of you make it to the restaurant, you sit down in a seat, mumbling quietly. You pull him with you as Monokuma explains the new motive. Komaeda's sure he's mumbling nothing but disgusting words into your ear as you support him, but you seem unphased.
As Mikan tends to him in the hospital and you sit in his room, you start speaking.
"Komaeda-kun, I'm sure you won't remember any of this," You hum, turning to look to the side. "But I love you a lot, alright?"
"I hate you too."
Komaeda clings on to you as you sleep next to him, wrapping his hand around yours tightly, squeezing it every now and then. He stares down at your sleeping form. He could kill you here. He could end the motive right there. He has a weak body, and he isn't sure if he could survive if he continues to be sick. He loves you a lot; he mumbles. He's pathetically in love with how pretty you are. He wonders if the words reach you.
The days in the hospital are boring at first. You try playing cards with him, only to find that he's too sick to do so. That only feeds your boredom. At some point, you grow so bored that you start playing smash or pass with Komaeda. He has no idea what you mean, but you show him images and recall celebrities, asking Komaeda smash or pass. At some point, you start naming classmates and students.
"Hinata."
"Half pass."
"Me?"
"Pass."
"Really?" You spring out of your seat, eyes wide, staring down at him.
"You heard me. Pass." Komaeda grimaces at you, and you blink at him happily.
"I'd smash you too."
Komaeda really wants to tell you how lovestruck he is with you, but he supposes he doesn't need to as you climb into bed with him. You blink at him curiously, and he moves his hand to pinch your cheeks. He frowns, his mind telling him that he's smiling. He sneers when he thinks he's mumbling, and he coughs when he thinks his breath is caught in his throat. There are so many weird things going on with his body.
"When was the last time we fucked again?"
"We've fucked plenty."
"I guess that makes sense," You close your eyes, leaning your ear on his chest. "Your heart is beating quickly."
"It's 'cause you're disgusting."
"Whatever you say," You drift off, and Komaeda finds himself staring down at you. He wonders what his eyes look like. Does it look the way that his parents and the couples on the street did? Maybe he does. He wonders how much he could love a person. His heart feels as though it's going to burst at any moment. You were... he brushes your hair to the side, pressing his lips to your forehead. Maybe he wouldn't remember this once he recovered.
How pretty.
In the bright morning, Komaeda feels his lungs tighten and starts coughing. You get out of bed, blinking slowly. Ah. You caught it too. Yet, you call Mikan into the room anyways, watching as she starts tending to Komaeda full-time. You try your best to blink the disease off and come off as fine. You don't know how you're acting. Yet as Mikan holds the pillow in her hand, you remember something. You push her to the ground, eyes animalistic, chest heaving, a psychotic grin on your face. You stare down at her, straddling her, nails bloodied with her skin and blood.
Mikan scurries off in fear, and you sit on the ground, blood from Mikan's skin in your nails.
You bite your nails, lucking the blood, staring at Hinata as he enters the room.
By the time you're conscious again, there are two bodies.
Komaeda's the one to wake you. You sit up on the hospital bed, rubbing your eyes as Komaeda stares at you. The room is an eerie shade of white, and your head spins deliriously as you try and recall what had happened. Komaeda stands there, staring down at you, waiting for you to adjust to the feeling of being conscious again. You hold on to him as you steady yourself, and your mouth opens as you're conscious again.
"Two people died."
You nod slowly.
"Come on."
You follow Komaeda as he starts investigating, and you glance at the two dead bodies. Ibuki is hung on the rope, and you stare up at her body as Hinata lowers it to the floor. You stare quietly; lifelessly; almost as if you were the body itself. You don't feel real, still. Komaeda rubs his hand on your back gently, and you blink slowly. Then, you stare at Hiyoko's body as the ladder is put up to search the body and check for clues. You have a couple of hours, you think. You know who the killer is, and you were so sure that Komaeda might have died if you had not stayed in the same room as him. The rest of the class decides to search for more evidence elsewhere as you and Komaeda stay behind.
"It's a shame," You mumble under your breath as Komaeda searches Ibuki's body. "I liked Ibuki too."
Komaeda stares at you.
"Do you like me too?"
You only nod in response.
He doesn't remember. Komaeda thinks he's forgetting something as he progresses through the investigation. He did something with you. You did something with him. You call Hinata with movie tickets, waving your hand for him. You leave Komaeda in his place as you enter the movie theatre with Hinata. Komaeda only knows to wait outside the theatre, and halfway through the movie, you open the door to pull him in as well. Maybe you didn't forget him. Though, Hinata was sitting next to you. It makes him uncomfortable.
Hinata looks frazzled as you sit back next to him, and you tilt your head.
It was a bad movie, according to Hinata. You point at the ticket, and Komaeda opens his mouth to help you translate. Hinata cuts him off.
"Keep the ticket, right? Thank you," Hinata smiles.
Komaeda gets insecure easily, now that he thinks about it. He stares at you as you slip something to Hinata before the trial, and Komaeda fiddles with his fingers. Maybe you would leave him for Hinata one day. You step back next to him, taking his hand in yours, playing with his fingers. Komaeda's breath catches in his throat, and he swallows thickly. How painful. Were you going to play him even until you decide to leave him? How could you be so cruel?
Maybe he would tell you he's scared one day.
You argue from next to Hinata, explaining everything from start to the end of your memories.
Ah.
Komaeda watches as you blaze next to Hinata, and his heart sinks. You... looked much better with him. Was that your fate? To leave him? Maybe he would be a stepping stone for your hope. There was no way you would love him so much. Komaeda keeps the trial moving as you stare at him. It's like he's reading a script out of your eyes. And the culprit tumbles out of your eyes right onto Komaeda's lips as he turns to stare at Mikan.
"Mikan was the killer." Komaeda stares at Mikan, tilting his head. "Ultimate Despair."
You want to leave your podium and yank him, but he goes on a tangent, and you stare at Komaeda until he notices.
"Ah, angel," He swallows. "Sorry."
Hinata continues with the trial, and you go silent to stare at Komaeda. He... had ruined your streak, didn't he? Of course, he wasn't worth sticking around you, but he had thought just for a moment. Maybe. Maybe you would let him. Turns out he was wrong. He stays quiet for the rest of the trial, letting you do what you were supposed to before he had interrupted.
Mikan is deduced as the killer, and Mikan is executed. You stand on an orchestrated stage, and Komaeda tries going up to you after the trial. You let him stand next to you, but you don't let him talk to you. You aren't responding. Not even with your eyes. You avoid his gaze as he follows you. Even as you sit down in the cottage and pull him into bed, you don't talk to him. Komaeda catches your eyes once. You look hurt.
He's scared to touch you tonight.
Yet, as you snuggle to his back as he seems to be asleep, maybe you'll find it in your heart to forgive him.
Another island is unlocked the next day, and Komaeda's scared to face you.
You get out of bed without reaching to wake him, and you shower first thing. It's strange. He sits in the room as he stares at you leave the bathroom, tower wrapped around your chest.
"I'm sorry," the words tumble out of his lips. "let me... make it up to you?"
You stare at him, tilting your head. "how?"
He steps up to you, getting on his knees, glancing up at you.
"Can I?"
You stare down at him, swallowing. "Yeah."
You pull him to the bed, and he shakes slightly as you sit on the bed.
You're naked before him. In front of him. You're naked from head to toe. Komaeda takes your body in quietly. When was the last time you were bare before him? When was the last time you had let him touch you like this? God, what if he doesn't remember what you like? Maybe you'd push him off. Maybe you'd get even angrier at him. He doesn't realize he's shaking until you're speaking.
"Stop thinking so hard," You frown, reaching for his face, propping up on your elbows.
"Sorry."
Komaeda eats you out desperately. You don't recall a moment when he wasn't writhing to please you to the moon and back. You suppose he drinks up whatever reaction you give to him. His eyes are half-lidded, pressing a kiss to your clit before starting. Komaeda likes taking his time. He's spent hours between your legs drawing orgasms out of your body before finally tending to you, usually leaking and in pain. You wonder if he can feel how painful it is.
Komaeda likes sitting between your legs. He feels it's fitting for someone who should be nothing more than a mere tool to the ultimates like you. You were being kind enough, letting him dirty you with his body. He's a little messy, he thinks, but you like it when he makes a mess. You never berate him for making a mess. Maybe you were a blessing just for him. Who knows.
Your fingers tangle in the sheets as Komaeda sits between your legs, hands keeping your legs opened, tongue prodding and twisting inside of you. Your breathy moans fill the room, your breath quickening as Komaeda grows more desperate to get you to cum. It's strange. Nothing feels right. You usually cum from his tongue alone. Was he getting worse? He's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize you've already cum and you're writhing in overstimulation.
"K-ko," You whine. "S-stop,"
Komaeda stops immediately, apologies spilling out of his lips in terror.
Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, and you close your eyes.
"We'll be doing that a lot more soon," Your breath catches in your throat as you sit up, and Komaeda grabs a towel to clean you off.
Komaeda doesn't understand your words until Monokuma is telling the class that they're stuck with no food until someone commits a crime. You rock on your feet, glancing at Komaeda. He thinks he understands now. Yet, as you leave him outside, heading into the final dead room, Komaeda's uneasy. You bet Monokuma that requires five bullets in a revolver of six. When the sound of a gun goes down and you stare at your hands, you know you won. Glancing at Monokuma, he hands you the file begrudgingly, complaining about how it was pure luck that you had won the file.
Your own name is found, and you stare blankly at the file.
Komaeda watches you return to bed that same night, still silent as ever. He coughs twice, and he stares at you.
"Hungry?" You stare at him.
Komaeda holds his breath.
"What's wrong?"
"You'll find out."
Komaeda has dinner as you do.
Komaeda drags you downstairs with him as the two of you head to Monokuma Tai Chi. A body announcement is made, and you stare across the room. Komaeda helps investigate, and he turns to stare at you. You lead him to the final dead room, laughing dryly as you look at the door again. Komaeda waits for you to get it out of your system before asking you anything. He's the ultimate luck. It'd only make sense for him to enter the room.
"May I..."
"Come back alive." You stare at Komaeda as he opens the door to the final dead room.
"Ah." Komaeda stares down at the book, heart quivering. He has to make a choice, doesn't he? He has to worry about.
This trial, Komaeda keeps silent. You don't tell him to speak, and you don't speak through him either. He feels as if he's stuck. A crossroad of destiny, perhaps. Star-crossed. It feels terrible. Komaeda doesn't know what this does to the two of you. Were you even considered lovers? How could Komaeda date someone that was the ultimate despair even though he was one too? Even as the two of you return home and you don't speak, Komaeda feels his own words caught in his throat, unsure how to ask.
"I'm in a coma," You stare at Komaeda.
"And you're... an ultimate despair."
You blink slowly.
"Yeah."
"What does..."
"We're on even ground," You exhale. "The world ended at our hands. It's that's simple."
Komaeda's voice catches in his throat, heart breaking. He shakes as you sit there, staring at him back in the room of your cabins. The stars spill secrets that neither of you speak up about, and you don't dare to meet his eyes. It was terrifying for you. You didn't know if he would leave you or do something. You get out of bed for the first time since arriving on the island, and your voice shakes as you speak.
"I'll... sleep in my cabin tonight." You mumble, rushing off.
Komaeda sits there without moving until the sun rises.
You're... an ultimate despair. You were an ultimate who caused despair. The entire class was. There was a single person on the entire island that didn't cause despair and it wasn't you. But. But. You had. You had just. You were. You were his entire symbol of hope. How could it be that you had known the entire time? You knew everything. From start to finish, you were orchestrating it all? Was that... what you were? Was he actually just a puppet in your play?
Komaeda checks on you the third day, wondering if you had spiraled as bad as he did. You're in your room, biting your nails, connecting red strings to others, desperate to get your thoughts in tow. There was one last trial. There was one last trial. One final person had to die. You couldn't let a single flaw escape from your fingers for this last trial. You chew on your lip, mumbling words to yourself over and over again. You're going to end up in tears. You don't remember the last time you felt this terrible.
Your hair is disheveled as you arrange the papers again, desperate to find the pattern. You have to know. You can't do it. You can't live knowing you'll never wake up and Komaeda one day will. You can't let him die. He can't die. How could you just let him die? You can leave the death to yourself. Worst comes to worst, you die with him. It's not that hard, right? You were just in a coma in real life. You don't know if you'd wake up with the rest of the class when they're all discharged.
Komaeda stares at you quietly.
"Angel?"
You turn your head to stare at him, deer in headlights, heart racing, dried tear stains on your cheeks. Komaeda has never seen you look so disheveled before. He lowers himself to his knees, brushing your hair back, pausing to see what you wanted. what you needed. You needed him, perhaps. You needed him just as badly as he needed you. He had to remember that. He was useless without you just as you were without him; even if the two of you were an ultimate despair.
"What's wrong?"
You burst into tears, coughing from the tears and pressure of it all. You hack furiously, hiccupping and sobbing into his arms. Drool slips past your lips and snot gets all over Komaeda's sleeve as he reaches to catch you before you collapsed onto the ground and bowed all the way to the ground. He couldn't let you do that for trash like him. But why... why were you crying like that? You looked more terrified than miserable.
"Don't die." You mumble, staring at the floor, still dissociated. "Please don't die. I'll kill myself if you don't do it. Please." Your fingers dig into his skin, and he pauses. You break his pause with more words. "Please don't kill yourself. I'm... I'm begging you. don't die. don't die. Please, don't die. Don't die, Ko. I'll kill everyone else on the island if it makes you feel better since I'm a dirty sinner anyways. I'll-"
"Angel," Komaeda cups your face, tilting your chin to stare at him. "Angel, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Come on-"
You cough, a mess of snot and tears in his arms. You lean in his arms pathetically, throat dry, eyes dead with exhaustion. Komaeda feels bad. Was he the reason you looked so terrible? He should make up for it somehow. Yet, as you cough furiously in his arms and only quiet down after he shushes you quietly, drawing circles on your skin. You look beyond repair. You look as though your entire life was crashing before your eyes, and you were without hope.
"Angel," Komaeda lowers his face to yours. "What's wrong?
You sniff pathetically.
"What's going to happen?"
You refuse to tell him. You stand up instead, staring at the scattered papers on the ground, kicking them all out of order, picking them up, and making Komaeda stand outside as you do so. You go back to sticking around him without telling him anything. You need the final motive, sure, but you wanted Komaeda to stay. Was it selfish? Komaeda reads the words off of you in waves. He sits in the dining room. Maybe reading you was harder for him.
He's not opposed to the idea of killing himself for the better hope. He obeys your word, after all.
"Why are you helping?" Komaeda watches as you tie the rope to him.
You decided dying with him was the best option.
"I'm going to miss her," You sit down next to him, legs tucked to your chest, leaning your cheek on your knees.
"Chiaki?"
"She doesn't have a body," You hum lowly. "You won't ever see her again."
"Ah." Komaeda's eyes widen as you stab yourself with the same knife. "What about you?"
You smile.
You avoid the topic.
"You know, Ko," You trace his face on your arm, "I love you a lot."
"Really?"
"Yeah," You smile. "I hope you remember that."
You die with Komaeda. The two of you sit in the room talking before the rest of the class breaks in, the poison killing the both of you instantly. You don't remember much after that. You wake up in the darkness, looking around. It's boring, you think. It would take at least a day or two for the game to wrap up. The pixels form before your eyes, and you stare at your hand as you end up in the void.
You find yourself wandering in the void, running at some point, walking in others. You're waiting for the system to be shut down so you can go back into the comatose state. Chiaki appears after searching for a little while. You run over to her, sitting down next to her. She smiles at you, handing you a notepad in case you needed it. You ditch it. She's a robot. It wouldn't kill to tell her.
"Are you well?"
"I hope we get to meet again," You blurt.
Chiaki blinks slowly. "You... speak."
You grin. "I do. My real talent has nothing to do with being the ultimate unknown. I am just a fortunate isekai victim."
So you talk with Chiaki. While Komaeda's mind forms a world where which isn't demented, you sit in the void, talking to Chiaki, playing imaginary cards and spilling your secrets. You don't know when you'll wake up. Chiaki reports what's going on outside every now and then, explaining who's awake and who's yet to wake up. Komaeda holds on to his fantasy that everything is normal. You know he does.
Chiaki speaks up one day.
"Your body is showing signs of waking up."
You pause. "Really?"
"Komaeda woke up two days ago. According to Hinata... he's also," She doesn't know how to tell you.
"Just say it."
"Komaeda got hit by a truck. He's conscious but severely injured."
"Is that why I'm waking up?"
"Yeah." Chiaki laughs lightheartedly. "I'll miss playing imaginary cards."
"I will too," You smile at her.
You wake up a day later, sitting up in your pod, blinking slowly at your hands.
Your legs have no strength, you find.
Naegi is kind enough to put you in the same hospital room as Komaeda, and you pull the curtain between the two beds down, grinning at Komaeda.
"Good morning." You smile.
Komaeda smiles back at you.
You do physical therapy with Mikan's help in the room, and your legs are restored as Komaeda is recovered.
"We should get married," You sit by his bed, leaning on your palm as he blinks at you slowly. Komaeda laughs airily, coughing when his lungs start hurting.
"I wonder what kind of suffering I would have to go through if we do."
"I'll bear half of it," You grin cheekily. "Til death do us part, after all."
"But we're not married," He hums.
"Not yet," You rest your head on his hand, humming to yourself. You stare at his ring finger, lips pulled into a smile.
"You plan on marrying trash like me?"
"You're not trash," You close your eyes. "You woke me up from an indefinite coma, did you not?"
Komaeda sighs. "But you were still injured."
"It's better than nothing," You doze off. "love..."
You stay quiet for the most part, making noises and showing improvement in vocal therapy. Komaeda sits with you some days in the wheelchair as you open your mouth to speak. Other days, he does physical therapy on the side while you learn to speak. The two of you return to your hospital room and talk about everything when you finish. There was no need for security when the island was only with so many people.
"What did you learn today?"
"Names," You start counting on your fingers. "Komaeda, Hinata, Fuyuhiko, the list goes on."
"That's it?"
"We start verbs tomorrow since I accidentally pronounced your name a little too well."
Komaeda chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist lazily. "Is it fun?"
"No," You mumble back, voice just as sleepy as his. "I hate it."
There's little to do in a hospital, you think. You play cards with Komaeda when you're bored, and other days you play chopsticks. The majority of the time, the two of you sit there in silence during the day. When it's night, the two of you are too tired to do anything, so there's little to no conversation. Komaeda offers to pretend to teach you how to speak so the two of you can communicate. You refuse him.
You decide a miracle would be funnier.
You start speaking to Komaeda during the day to see who notices first. The two of you bet on different students. Komaeda bets on Hinata, and you bet on Mikan.
You win the bet as you're rambling about how shit the school is to Komaeda on a Thursday afternoon immediately after class and Mikan walks in to check up on you. Komaeda needs to be discharged, so you win the bet instead of him. You think it's a trade-off you're fine with. Komaeda being healed at the cost of anything for you was more than worth the price. You just wished he cared a little more about himself.
"I-If you can speak fluently," Mikan stares at the papers in her hands. "Th-then it's completely pointless to k-keep you here!"
You smile. "I've been able to talk. I just—" You pause to think of the word. "have been told to keep quiet."
Hinata runs check-ups with Mikan on you as you speak to them normally. You're fine to go; you're told. Komaeda takes you back to your shared cabin, grinning from ear to ear as you stretch your arms. It's surprising that you could speak so well. You don't know what to do. You don't know the amount of time that passes from one event to the next, and you chew on your bottom lip as you sit in your room.
Komaeda pulls your bottom lip from your teeth, handing you a cup of tea instead.
"What's wrong?"
You blink slowly. "We have one final event. Has Hinata looked for Mitarai?"
"He has. Why?"
You pause before closing your mouth. You grimace slowly, and Komaeda sits on the floor with you, tilting his head to stare at you properly. You look older. You've aged. Your anxiety is much worse than while in the simulation, and he does his best to fix you. You can't fix someone if you're broken as well.
Komaeda finishes therapy and accompanies you to your sessions, easing you into the sessions slowly. It's an improvement. You learn to calm down and loosen up. It's something about how you have to let go of control. It's scary. Komaeda's told to take care of you to whatever extent he can manage, and make you feel as though you have something to lean on that isn't predestinated knowledge. Komaeda doesn't know if he's really suited for the position, but he doesn't find it in himself to doubt you.
You recover slowly, and it seems as though your recovery process reverts as soon as the third killing game begins. You stare in horror at the livestream while everyone on the island starts gearing up. You don't know what to feel. That was the last you knew about the series. It was the last you knew about anything. It was. It was terrifying. You wouldn't know anything about the future, and you had been living off of the knowledge you had. How... how do you survive? What happens to the remnants? Do they return to the island? Do they go somewhere else? Wasn't the final killing game on the island?
When Komaeda returns on the boat, he brings a small gift with him. You collapse on him as he exits the boat, and Komaeda stays on the ground even as he helps you up. You wipe your tears with a frown, and you pause when you notice he hasn't stood up. You tilt your head, getting back on your knees to stare at him in curiosity. Komaeda laughs awkwardly, getting up. He... he can't just ask you to stay with him in front of everyone. It might make you feel obligated to say yes to him. He presses kisses to your forehead instead, laughing airily and joking about how you took his breath away. You smack him lightly in retaliation, embarrassment all over your face.
But days are mundane to Komaeda once they return to the island. You walk with him in the mornings, and you sit with him during mealtimes. The rest of the class gets along with you well, and the two of you do everything together. Komaeda fears you'll grow bored of him. His hesitation seeps into the things the two of you do normally, and you notice his change in behavior immediately. You never mention anything as he tries to pull away slowly, and you find yourself sitting in empty bedrooms, waiting for Komaeda to return. Some days, he doesn't. Other days, he returns when it's morning and the energy has been drained out of your soul.
You think you're doing something wrong. You don't understand why he's so desperate to leave you. Maybe you're doing something wrong. Maybe you're of no more use now that you don't know the future anymore. It eats you away slowly as you sit at the diner, chewing down breakfast slowly. Teruteru asks if it's because you don't like the food, and you assure him it's not. You wonder if you just have your emotions written all over your face. Though, no one else on the island mentions anything as you eat less and less. You wonder if Komaeda eats at all.
Well, communication is key, you suppose.
You rub your eyes slowly as the sun rises, and you mumble to yourself. Komaeda hasn't come back again.
You close your eyes and fall asleep on the couch. The bed is too big without him around.
Komaeda returns to the cottage to grab his things.
His heart drops to his stomach as he sees you sleeping on the couch. You... you don't like him. Why are you eating yourself away so that you'll continue to like him even if he treats you terribly? You have so many more people that could fall in love with you and date, yet you were killing yourself over someone as unimportant as him. He grabs the blanket from the bed, and he covers you with it, turning around to get his stuff.
"Nagito Komaeda." Your voice comes out surprisingly clear for someone who was asleep. You don't move, but Komaeda can tell you want him to stay.
"I'm sorry." He grabs what he was looking for, and you sob quietly as the door to the cottage closes with a click.
The depression chips at you slowly. You stay pooled in your cottage, relying on classmates sending food to you and only eating small portions. You wonder how bad you must have it when even Teruteru's cooking doesn't lift your spirits. Your talent no longer exists. Is that why Komaeda no longer wants you? You sit there in your room, rotting away, the blanket wrapped around your body, your existence slowly slipping away, dissociating, fading in and out, sometimes bleeding at the wrist and other times bleeding at the fingertips.
But the depression disappears one day as your brain goes into autopilot. You pack your things by yourself, and you stare at the photo of you and Komaeda on the coffee table, putting it face down as you open your laptop to reach Naegi. You want to leave the island. Your talent is the ultimate unknown, so it'd only make sense that you end up somewhere that no one knows about.
You leave the island in the dead of night, your presence completely erased along with it.
You sit in the helicopter, staring at the setting moon and rising sun, watching the stars twinkle out of life and clouds grow more visible. Maybe it was something you were supposed to do from the start. Maybe it was something that you were meant to do. You were supposed to be isekaied by now, right? That was the plan? You chew on your bottom lip as you land in the future foundation headquarters, and you go through the process with a new identity, making your way of life in the remnants of the city, the broken buildings now slowly coming back to life. You try to ignore the lack of consciousness as you do everything.
Komaeda thinks he hallucinated your entire existence when he steps into your shared cottage the day you left. You hadn't been at breakfast for the seventh time that week, and he drops the tray of food at the sight of a clean and neat cottage. It was impossible for someone who was as shattered as you to do. It's impossible. He looks around the cottage urgently, crying, begging, praying that there was a trace of you to remember just for a moment.
There's nothing.
So instead, Komaeda runs back to the restaurant, opening the doors panting. The class turns to stare at him, and his breath catches in his throat as he doesn't know how to explain that you had just disappeared without a trace off of the island. His breathing turns static as he coughs and cries, trying to explain through his pathetic sobs that you had just disappeared, and you were gone without a trace, and that you had just left as if you were never there, and that he wanted to apologize and try to talk it out with you but he had found an empty cottage without anything that could possibly remind him of your existence; it was a terrible thing to think of, and his head spins dizzily. He was going to tell you that his illness was gone and that he would be able to spend time with you again, but you had just disappeared— you were— you just— you just left him alone on an island of ultimates, people who he considered nothing more than classmates and friends when he cared, but you, his lover, the only person in the world to ever tell him that he was worth something and not insult him, was gone, and he couldn't live withou—
Komaeda passes out before he can say anything else, the stress of everything collapsing on him at once. The class rushes him to the hospital, and Mikan and Hinata check his vitals, trying their best to calm his heart somehow before he died of a heart attack. His body fights it, almost as if desperate to die and shatter and break. Komaeda's consciousness doesn't want to live or come back to life. Yet, the two succeed anyway, the boy jumping awake as he's defibrillated back to life.
Komaeda doesn't know why he woke up within a day. He would have rather just died now that you weren't on the island anymore. He starts crying immediately upon waking up, the tears making him choke, snot running down his nose and tears staining his cheeks with tracks and tracks of salt. He thinks he's going to die from how hard he's crying. His breath catches in his throat, the hiccuping killing his lungs. God. Is this how pathetic he was? Was he really nothing without you? Why did he push you away? He should've just let you destroy him next to you—
You suppose you don't suffer any less.
You sit in the coffee shop in the city, and you press the coffee to your lips, planning your next route to nowhere. You want to wander. Your backpack is packed and ready, and you're excited to leave something behind for once. Yet, the sense of dread that plagues your whole body at the thought of leaving your only pillar of support in the universe hurts you. You don't know how to let you. You don't know if you want to know if you even know how to let go.
You receive a letter from Naegi from the island. A letter that was several papers taped together. A letter that rolls on the ground as you open it in front of the man, and a letter that's longer than a senior thesis paper. You read the first two lines, and you recognize it as Hinata's writing. You refuse to touch it at first, waving Naegi off, but all it takes is a mention of Komaeda's name.
It's every single doctor's report for Komaeda's illness starting from the day you left the island.
"What's... wrong?" Naegi watches your resolve waver.
"Komaeda is bedridden and had a heart attack the morning I left the island," You read every single report, and you pause when you reach the end. He still hasn't been discharged.
"Do you have paper and an envelope?" You stare at the man.
Komaeda receives a letter passed on from Hinata detailing a single word, and Komaeda runs.
He takes a helicopter to the mainland, and his heart races in his chest the entire time. He has to find you. It doesn't matter if you'd slap him or break him or shatter him into pieces like he had done with you, he has to have you back in his hands. He knows where you want him to be, and he doesn't know what time it is or why his bones hurt, but he knows where you're waiting, and he'd hate to keep you waiting even longer than he's had you wait. He doesn't know why the two of you are stuck. He doesn't understand why everything hurts him in the way it does, but he does know that he misses you terribly.
He reaches where you want him, sitting down on the same bench when he had met you, and he pulls out the blades from his jacket, cutting two lines to make sure you wouldn't leave before he could apologize. The blood stains his jacket, but he could never be too safe. He grimaces.
You leave your bag with Naegi, stepping up the stairs into Monaca's old tower. You're surprised that there was still one left, and you sit at the top of the stairs, glancing down at the rest of Towa city. You wonder if Komaeda would know that you're referring to here instead of the bench. Maybe he'd realize it after a little while.
So, the sun sets, and you start back down the tower. The walls of it are torn, the brick showing through the wallpaper, and the mold and moss from the natural tragedies during the tragedy. You wonder if Komaeda would remember this place at all. You don't know how many years you spent in the tower with him, doing everything you could for Junko. It wasn't even despair, now that you think of it. You were just enamored with Komaeda. That desperate. Desperate to the point that you'd do anything for him. You wonder if your memories were erased. You don't know.
The place brings bad memories. Maybe it was time to leave.
The sound of running upstairs causes you to stop in your steps, and you stare down at Komaeda.
Komaeda stares up at you, stars in the background, the wind brushing your hair gently, and his legs give out. You rush to him immediately as he cries at the sight of you, and his lungs burn as he tries to catch his breath despite the tears. He clings onto your forearms, mindless babbles slipping past his lips as he cries and tries to explain himself. You catch little comprehensible words. Words like "help" "sorry" and "fault", and you wait until he calms down enough to speak to you, assuring him that you wouldn't leave.
Your heart twists and burns in your chest. You want to cry just as badly as he does.
Komaeda cries in your arms, hiccupping, clinging onto your arm pathetically. It looks familiar. It's like watching yourself break down before the fifth trial, except its Komaeda crying harsh tears over you leaving him. Maybe you came full circle. You don't know. All you know is that you should've never left the island and rotted in your place for a little longer. Maybe Komaeda wouldn't have had heart problems if you had never left. You don't know. You think you hurt him enough.
Komaeda calms eventually, wiping the snot and tears from his face, staring quietly at the tissue. He really was pathetic without you.
"I'm sorry." He manages. "I was going to—" He pauses, averting his gaze to the side. "I was going to... give you a ring when I got off the boat as a promise but I didn't want it to seem like I was proposing because then that would be like forcing you to marry me in front of the entire class—"
"You were going to what?" You stare at Komaeda in your arms, blinking, eyes wide.
"give you a ring?"
"You brought me a ring from the mainland?"
"Y-yeah?"
"How'd you even get one?" Your arms tighten around him, and you rest your chin on his head as you stare down at the stairs.
"Uh," Komaeda stumbles over himself. "I dug around my old mansion."
You laugh, pulling him close to your chest. "From your dead parents?"
"Mom's engagement ring," Komaeda smiles at the sound of your laughter.
"Do you think that's why we fought? The dead's vengeance?"
"Mother doesn't approve," Komaeda hums. "Mother knows best."
"Motherrrrr," You grin, "knows best." You pause, staring at the sunrise. "Would you say yes if I were to propose?"
"I can't live without you."
That's all you need to hear.
Some days you think too hard. Komaeda grows used to it, sitting down with you, the fireplace on, tea in your hands as he sits next to you. He doesn't know what to feel about living a casual, retired life. The two of you are back to a mundane life. The two of you swing back and forth, the sun counting your days. You wonder if Komaeda's going to propose or if he was just saying it to get you back with him.
Though, you suppose thoughts are fleeting.
You grow tired of waiting for Komaeda to propose. You stumble into Souda's cabin one afternoon, staring at him in the eye until he notices you. He yelps as he does, and you as him if he has a metal band. You wonder where you get the talent for being able to do everything as long as you have the audacity to. You bring a mirror into your old cabin, playing with polymer clay and making flowers, gluing them onto the mirror, sanding the ring and making sure you remember Komaeda's ring size as you fall asleep next to him each night.
Komaeda thinks you're up to something, but he stays put. Maybe you were going to surprise him.
The anxiety is much quieter these days, and he finds himself sitting in your shared cabin, waiting for you to come back. You go missing more often. Maybe you're running around the island exploring. You always liked wandering more than anything else. He wonders if you'd pass away on accident one day. Your ultimate talent was scary. Your real one. You could be taken away from him at any time.
"I have a surprise." You peek through the door, blinking at Komaeda rapidly.
"A good one or bad one?"
"Good one," You hum.
Komaeda follows you as you drag him to your cabin, and he pauses at the sight of roses.
"A... angel?"
"I made us a mirror." You fiddle with your fingers.
Komaeda pulls you with him as he steps into the place, and he stares at the heart-shaped mirror. The clay flowers around it cause him to pause, and he stares at the metal band that glistens, hiding in a piece of clay. Komaeda pauses at the sight of the other hole, and he pulls the ring from his pocket, slipping it into the slot, turning to grin at you.
"Ah, it seems-" He pauses at the sight of you on one knee.
"I had this whole speech prepared about how I had fallen in love with you the moment we met, but the second you put my ring in the slot my brain completely malfunctioned and I forgot half of it," You pull another ring from your pocket, and you hold it up for him. "I'm in love with you. Marry me?"
Komaeda blinks at the ring, and he stares at you, rummaging through his pocket.
Your heart rings in your head as he pulls out a ring of his own, holding it to your face.
"If you'll take mine."
You yank him onto the floor with you, wrapping your arms around his neck and laughing.
There are a lot of smiles and giggles with Komaeda while the two of you plan for a wedding. Komaeda lets you do what you want, offering his suggestion when you ask, finding that it's getting easier to read what you want and what you don't. In the meantime, while he does, you tell him how sweet he is to you, pressing kisses to his cheeks, letting him know you were sure about what you were doing. It was turbulent, you think. Komaeda seemed scared you would change your mind at first.
You remind him that you care about him quietly at night, tracing circles on his chest.
He watches you fall asleep at night, and he can't help the nasty thoughts that spiral in his mind as he bites back quiet moans as you're asleep next to him, bare skin kissed by the moon and water from the shower still fresh in your hair. He feels bad, whimpering and gasping as he plays with himself next to you, but surely you wouldn't mind, right? You never have; You've let him do whatever he wants. You've even mentioned letting him do whatever he wants to you while you're asleep, but he couldn't possibly soil your body with him.
You don't wake up. You've always slept deep, he finds. He could completely defile you head to toe and you wouldn't even notice as long as he cleaned you up. He parts your lips with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your lips before wiping himself down with a tissue, snuggling his head into your chest, falling asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.
Komaeda is less slick than he thinks he is.
You wake up earlier than him some days, staring at the stain on the sheets, stretching your arms, and reaching into his boxers. He tends to wake up with morning woods, his hormones still unbalanced despite his age. You don't know. You never studied the human body extensively. So, you do what you normally do, fingers freeing his cock from his boxers, spitting in your hand before running your hand through the slit to collect his precum and giving him a handjob. Some days, Komaeda wakes up with your mouth around his tongue, other days he wakes up to you reading a book while your hand is wrapped around his cock. Either way, he wakes up to himself moaning pathetically while you suck him off. He caught you kicking your legs once. He doesn't understand why you enjoy pleasing him, but he doesn't find it in himself to complain.
"I want snowdrops at the wedding," You pause. "On the dress, not the wedding. I'm not planting more flowers on the island when we already have a farm."
"It wouldn't hurt to get flowers planted."
"We're having a beachside wedding because you insisted it be one to match my fantasies," You glance at the flower catalog Naegi sent you. "Maybe I'll get a blue iris bouquet."
"Anything you want," Komaeda hums, staring at a suit catalog. "Can I just wear white?"
"Yeah." You pause. "I'm kicking you out when I pick the dress, by the way."
"And let Hinata take your nude measurements alone?"
"Sonia and Peko are going to be there," You grumble. "They've had it done before."
Komaeda pouts.
"You'll get to see it at the wedding. Isn't that enough?"
"Can I paint something for the wedding?"
"We have to plan gifts for each other, do we not?" You hum. "Like... I don't actually know what I'm going to get you."
"It's fine," Komaeda closes his eyes, the vibrations from his humming warming your skin. "I'll just spoil you rotten."
"What if I get used to it?"
"Then that would be the greatest blessing possible." Komaeda smiles.
Some days, you wonder how you ended up with Komaeda. You had been blinking slowly in and out of consciousness over a world that wasn't yours when you landed out of nowhere on top of Komaeda, and now you were planning a wedding with him. Other days, you wonder how you asked a complete stranger in English to live at his place temporarily, and now you were his home. You, a human, are his home. You gasp and twitch as he curls his fingers in you, cutting off your thought process.
"What were you thinking of?" Komaeda stares up at you from between your legs.
"A-ah," You whimper as he goes back to fingering you. "You-" You exhale. "I was thinking of you."
"Me?"
"Y-yeah," You hide your face in your hands as he presses a kiss to your clit. "H-how we met."
"You were an angel who fell out of heaven, I was convinced," The rest of Komaeda's words are muffled as he goes back to eating you out, eyes half-lidded as he focuses on you feverishly. You don't know where he gets the energy to stay between your legs when he can barely survive a round with you. The sounds of his tongue in you fill the room as you flush from how lewd it all sounds. You're embarrassed again.
"K-Ko," You whimper.
Komaeda raises a brow to stare at you, drawing hearts on your thigh as he goes back to eating you out when he notices it's just embarrassment. The coil in your stomach tightens as your hand threads through his hair, your thighs closing around his head as your orgasm approaches. You squirm before you do, and you let out a salacious moan as you cum on Komaeda's tongue for the nth time that night. You squirm from the overstimulation as the orgasm fades, and Komaeda wipes the cum from his face, licking off of his hand as he spreads your legs.
He pumps himself twice before pressing the tip of his cock to your clit.
"What's wrong?"
"S-sorry," Komaeda mumbles, kneading the skin on your hip. "T-thinking."
"About?"
"How far, ah," He whimpers as he fills you, resting his forehead on yours. "we've come." He blinks slowly as you push his hair back, leaning up to kiss him. "And how you're," He starts thrusting, slowly, almost as if he were cherishing you slowly, "underneath me, bare skin, and all." Komaeda thrusts steadily as you murmur for him to speed up, cheeks warm and skin flushed. Komaeda thinks you're pretty like this. He always thinks you're pretty, but you're just breathtaking under the moon, the white haze making you look holy. You were his angel. The angel that dropped into his life as he felt his life shatter in his hands that same day.
Komaeda's brows furrow as he feels himself get close, thrusting growing desperate, thumb on your clit, rubbing desperately. The coil in your stomach tightens, and your eyes widen, reaching for Komaeda's neck, squealing about how you're in love with him and how you're desperate to marry him and settle down, your overstimulation making your head spin, the words not registering as you cum on his cock. Komaeda's head rings from the praise you give him, a waterfall of pet names spilling. "Y-you're so pretty," You gasp. "Gorgeous. I think you were blessed by Aphrodite or something. Pretty. Pretty, pretty boy." You whine as he chases his own orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders. "i love you so much. So much. K-ko, I'm so p-painfully in love with you-" You gasp as he cums, spilling into you with something between a whimper and moan.
He stays inside of you for a moment, waiting to catch his breath as you wipe the sweat from his forehead.
"Good boy," You smile, running your hand through his hair. "Such a pretty, good boy."
Komaeda laughs airily, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. "I love you too."
You turn your head to stare, and you pause. "We left the window open."
"Pray that Souda doesn't scream at us tomorrow," Komaeda pulls out of you, his cum trickling out of you, causing Komaeda's voice to catch in his throat. "You're pretty."
"You tell me that a lot," You sit up, pressing a kiss to his temple.
"I mean it," Komaeda relaxes at your touch, tension leaving his shoulders. "I mean it."
"I know you do," You get off the bed, grimacing at the sweat on your skin. Komaeda lies on the bed as you walk into the bathroom, coming out with a rag to wipe him down. Komaeda lifts his arms weakly as you wipe him, exhaling when you finish, pulling you for a kiss.
"Can I sleep first?"
"Of course," You press a kiss to his forehead. "Always."
The moon spills past the windows as you stare at Komaeda's chest rise and fall, skin paler than normal. You rest your hand on his hip, tracing circles on his skin, lashes fluttering as sleep threatens to take you. It's quiet, you think. A nice quiet. the type of quiet that you could grow used to, and a type of quiet you had wished for before getting isekaied. You don't want to leave him. You hope he reincarnates with you when the two of you die.
Komaeda blinks slowly in the morning, body sore. Though, his arms aren't as sore as they used to be. He blinks slowly, turning around to face you. He stares up at you, lashes fluttering, lips parting as he presses a kiss to yours. You're pretty. When the sun illuminates the room and the waves recede, you're gorgeous. The golden streaks of the sun reflect on your hair, and each individual cell of your body. Komaeda doesn't know what he could consider prettier.
"Mm?" You furrow your brows, Komaeda sitting up to cover the sun from your eyes. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Komaeda smiles.
"You're so hot," You yawn. "I'm so happy I'm marrying you."
Komaeda's cheeks redden, his heart racing. "love you too..."
The clocks on the walls pass quicker as the two of you get ready for the ceremony itself. Komaeda doesn't know what to feel. He's going to get to call you his wife. His spouse. He's going to be married soon. If he told himself back at Hope's Peak, he doubts he would believe himself. He's marrying you.
You sit up and rub your eyes, exhaling slowly. You stare outside the window, tossing the covers over your head again.
"I'm going back to bed."
Komaeda blinks slowly, snuggling closer to you. He doesn't want to get up either. He closes his eyes, only pausing when he remembers something important.
"You have to pick the dress today." He mumbles into your ear.
"Nevermind!" You jump out of bed, stretching your arms. Komaeda smiles as you yawn. "Do you want to see me in anything?"
"Do whatever you want," Komaeda smiles.
"I'm going to wear your servant chain to the wedding if you tell me to do whatever I want," You deadpan.
Komaeda chokes, coughing uncomfortably.
"Or the bedroom," You rub your eyes. "I think it'd be cuter in the bedroom."
"You kept my clothes?"
You blink at him owlishly. "I kept everything you ever had."
Komaeda doesn't know what he's supposed to feel when you actually pull out the chain that was originally around his neck. Komaeda returns home, supporting himself on the wall, pulling his shoes off, pausing at the sight of you in his sweater and chain.
"I swear this isn't-"
"Stay in it." Komaeda tosses his jacket to the side, stepping up to you, pressing his lips on your temple, smothering you in kisses. "Can I fuck you in that?"
"Yeah," You scrunch your nose as he kisses further down your neck, biting, tracing circles on the teeth marks, staring quietly. "God, you're so pretty."
You flush from his words, and he pulls the bottom of his shirt up, revealing your boobs. He pries your lips open, having you bite on the hem as he thumbs the bud of your tits, pinching it to get a reaction out of you. Your skin jumps as his lips close around the other bud, swirling his tongue around it. Your leg wobbles, and Komaeda has you sit, the tips of his hair tickling your chin as he continues his ministrations. Your fingers dig into the sheets, soft pants slipping past your lips as Komaeda takes your quiet moans as a sign of encouragement.
He pulls away, a string of saliva following him, and he blinks slowly at how your legs have bucked. You stare at him as he pulls away from your chest, deer caught in headlights, heart ringing in your ears. You don't know when he got so perceptive. The hem of the shirt is still between your teeth, and Komaeda pulls the cloth from you.
"Pretty angel, doing such a great job," He kisses you as a reward, lowering his head, pressing a hand to your thigh as he scrunches the shirt up to reveal your pussy. He pushes your legs open wider, pulling you closer to him, getting onto his stomach, pressing a light kiss to your clit before mumbling quietly. "itadakimasu," He delves in, sticking his tongue in first, making sure to savor your taste. Your thighs quiver, and he holds them apart as he continues, stopping you from suffocating him. You throw your head back, muffling the sounds from your mouth with your palm.
"Angell," Komaeda slurs, replacing his tongue with a finger. "please let me hear you..."
You move your hand slowly as Komaeda sits, hand reaching for the chain, pulling on it, forcing you to lurch forward, the collar cutting your breath off. You gasp as he does, whimpering as you feel Komaeda curl his finger in you, looking for the place you liked it best. You gasp, propping yourself onto your elbows to try and breathe. Your breath hitches as he slides a second finger in, your arms shaking.
"K-Ko," You gasp as he pulls on the chain again.
"Yes, angel?"
"I wanna cum," The coil in your stomach tightens as you tighten around Komaeda's fingers. Komaeda obliges, letting the chain go from his hand, pressing his thumb to your clit, drawing rapid circles. You cum with a cry, drenching his fingers, your legs shaking. You whimper as he pulls his fingers out and licks them. Your eyelids flutter, chest heaving for air.
"Can," Komaeda swallows slowly. "can you ride me?"
You nod slowly, waiting for Komaeda to strip and lie down. He makes a show for you, unbuttoning his shirt painfully slow, pulling his belt off, body weight resting on one side of his body, hips jutted out. You swallow the saliva threatening to spill from your lips. You climb over him, letting the cum from your orgasm lube him, positioning him slowly. You watch as Komaeda wraps his hand around the chain again, pulling lightly as he bottoms out in you. You pant, whimpering, the remnants of your orgasm making your walls still sensitive.
"So pretty for me," Komaeda pulls on the chain lightly. His shirt scratches and causes your body to itch, the fabric painfully uncomfortable. You remember why you didn't like it anymore. Well, as you start bouncing on his cock slowly, one hand on the chain and the other tangled in the sheets. You stare down at him as he pulls the collar, forcing your chest to his face, and you whimper as his lips latch onto your nipple, sucking ever so gently. You force your body weight onto your elbows, your bouncing turning erratic.
Komaeda helps you, thrusts matching your rhythm. You whimper as his other hand rests on your hip, drawing lazy circles as you feel your orgasm approach again. You gasp softly, biting your bottom lip harshly as you feel your orgasm approach again. Komaeda forces your chest to his face, letting go of the chain and moving his other hand to your ass. You cum on him with a cry as he bites on your nipple, the hickey bright red on your chest tightening on him like a vice. Your chest heaves as he chases his own orgasm, your legs shaking from overstimulation. You whine as he spills into you. Komaeda babbles incoherently as you collapse on top of him, pulling the shirt from over your head. The collar and chain remain around your neck, and Komaeda pulls you down to press a kiss to your cheek.
"You're so, so beautiful," Komaeda mumbles on your lips, pressing lazy kisses to your skin.
"I love you too."
Komaeda's anxiety charts as the wedding gets closer and closer. He finds himself staring at sharp objects for far too long and foods that he knows would be bad for him even longer. There's a certain sense of anxiety as he stares a little too long at dangerous items nearby, and you find yourself tracing circles on his skin and reminding him that it was fine. You didn't mind his luck cycle. Even if it rained on the big day, you could just run down the aisle with an umbrella.
You sit in your cabin, smiling as Hiyoko arranges your hair with a huff, complaining about how you had such nice hair but never took care of it. You laugh as she weaves flowers into your hair, and Sonia has you hold still as she does your makeup. Mahiru moves between cabins, snapping photos of both you and Komaeda. Ibuki arranges the music as Peko invites the few future foundation members to their seats. You don't know how you got here, really. Your heart causes your breathing to get anxious, and you grimace slowly.
"Hey," Sonia pauses, having you stare at her. "It'll be fine. No anxious thoughts. It's your wedding day."
You exhale as she has you breathe, and your shoulders relax.
"It looks like it's going to rain," Mikan mumbles. "Did we bring an umbrella?"
"I did!" Akane closes the umbrella, stepping into the room. "Wah, how pretty!"
"Thank you, Akane," You smile.
Komaeda's words serve true, rain pouring down on the day of the wedding, and you laugh as the tail of your dress stains with rainwater. You'll think of it as a fond memory. You know you will. It'll be fun to explain to people who ask why your dress is stained brown and say that you got married in the rain to the love of your life. It's a sense of acceptance. You blink at Komaeda as you get ready to walk down the aisle, and you decide to run. You're excited. Komaeda's dressed head to toe in white, and he looks ethereal. You'd love him forever, you decide. You ditch the umbrella, only stopping as you bump under his. It was big enough to fit the two of you.
"Would you like to swap shoes? Running in heels in the rain is a little..." Komaeda raises a leg to slip his shoe off before you stop him.
"I want to run in the rain, in heels, with the love of my life," You laugh, resting your hand on his bicep, leaning your head onto his shoulder.
Impostor gives the opening speech, and you grin happily as you open the letter you had written, holding a newly brought, clear umbrella.
"To Nagito Komaeda," You clear your throat carefully. "I landed in your lap in the blink of an eye, crashing into you on the street from above. It was comedic, it was strange, and it was new. I had never gotten hit by a white truck before, and I was nowhere expecting to end up in this world of all places. You're a fan favorite in my world, and the fact that I'm being blessed with an opportunity to marry you like this is incredible. It feels strange. It felt like just yesterday when I was asking you in a foreign language whether or not I could stay with you until I found a home, and now today we're getting married. I know you like to say that it's a blessing to marry me, but I think the real blessing was falling in love with you."
You pause to breathe, glancing at Komaeda, wiping his tears already.
"I was horrified when I saw the letter detailing your frontaltemporal lobe dementia. I was determined to find some way to fix it, whether it be through someone as obscure as the ultimate neurologist whom I had only heard of once or twice. I was blissfully in love with you as I had always been. I do not remember a moment when I haven't loved you to the moon and back." You swallow, tears welling in your eyes. "Even when you were nothing more than a mere servant under Monaca, I was desperate to do anything for you. I had forgotten that the tragedy was something that you would have despised had you found out I was an ultimate despair, but I was so desperate to love you and to show you how far my love went that I went insane."
Komaeda thanks Hinata as he takes the handkerchief, crying silently into it.
"But I knew that we would love each other. I knew that you and I would love like no other, and that the sun would die and the moon would break, but there would never be a moment where I wouldn't stop loving you because I couldn't stop loving you. You were as vital to my existence as any basic commodity was. I could wither and die like the flowers you picked for me at Hope's Peak and I would still love you desperately." You pause, collecting yourself. "Because you were just that important to me. You were something that I desperately, insanely wanted. You meant the world to me, and I was willing to let everyone else burn just so I could see you live."
You cough, trying to hold back tears. "And when we had fought, I was so desperate to leave because the only thing I knew how to do was to run away. Yet, I don't know why I stayed in that tower all night until the sun was peeking from the east. I don't know why I had held onto you so desperately as you had cried in my arms, but I'm so terribly elated that I had stayed, because I wouldn't be here if I had just ran away like I always did. I wouldn't have been in our room, staring at the ceilings and counting the stars in your eyes, watching you breathe peacefully, because I would have never been able to experience anything if I didn't stay with you. I read once that love was a choice," You exhale. "So my choice, in the simplest terms," You wipe a tear from your eye. "Is to stay by your side, for better or worse, for life or for death, and until the universe would forcibly tear my heart and soul and mind away from you, I will stay with you until all that is left of me is nothing, for I know that I would love you for all of my days, even if it decides to kill me. Because even if I'm the ultimate isekai victim in my next, life, you'll always be my husband, lover, and my home in a world that despises me so much."
Komaeda wipes his tears, eyes puffy, brows furrowed, slightly embarrassed at how much of a mess he probably looked. He coughs, waiting for his tears to calm before staring at his letter. He sniffs a little, opening the letter carefully, almost as if he were scared to break the wax. He adjusts the umbrella in his hand, and he opens the letter carefully. There are words written on the front and back.
"To my angel," Komaeda reads, adjusting his umbrella. "When you had first told me to write you a letter, I thought you were saying just to write down whatever thoughts I had."
You thank Sonia as she hands you a handkerchief.
"When I first met you, I thought I was insane." Komaeda laughs to himself. "I was just thrown out of the trash, a couple million dollars on a lottery ticket. I had the ticket in my pocket, and I remembered how each year, each terrible year, I had prayed at the shrines during visits that somehow, somewhere, there would be someone who would make living worth all the suffering I had to go through. I was so desperate to be in love and to have someone who cared about me to the point of destruction like my parents were with each other. I was dying for someone to love me, and as if the universe had heard my prayer that built up over the years, you appeared. You fell from the sky, and for that short moment in my life, I was starstruck at the sight of you." Komaeda sniffs. "I was painfully in love with you. You, who had spoken barely any Japanese upon meeting me, and you who had tried drawing a white truck killing you, I was in love with you. You were so charming in my eyes. I didn't think of a day where I would have to live without you."
Komaeda wipes his tears again, coughing quietly. "I had fallen in love with you so naturally that by the time I was a remnant of despair like you had predicted, I thought that the only way to cause despair was through the death of you, but my consciousness couldn't allow it. I was frail, broken, shattered, so I thought the best sort of despair would have been to work you to the bone and have you fall out of love with me. I failed. I'm glad I failed." Komaeda sniffs, glancing at you in tears, crying into the handkerchief, hiccuping.
"And during that killing game, I died with you." Komaeda laughs airily. "I thought you would surely leave me and try to survive. I had given you a gas mask, yet you stabbed yourself to make sure that my plan would go along, and the two of us were gone. Dead. You were in a coma because I had forced you into one before leaving for the island, and I was in a coma because I had prayed and prayed for a world where everything was together and in one piece. I wanted a world where the two of us could live without the tragedy. A world where we were all classmates, and Chiaki was still alive. To me, it was a world where the two of us were in love and my luck wasn't killing anyone. I woke up and cried. I had to be in a world with you in it, so I thought it'd be chance that my luck would save you. I'm glad it did."
Komaeda turns the paper.
"I love you to the moon and back, and I love you until the sun burns out and the moon dies from heartbreak. My life is supposed to be a mosaic of everyone I've loved, but instead, it's just a painting of you. From start to finish, from the moment we met to the moment we'll die, everything will be influenced by you and you alone. I'll fly you to the moon and burn from the sun just so that you could live without worry. And when I wake up in the morning, I'll hide you from the sun's rays burning your eyes and kiss you until you grow tired of me. I'll do anything and everything so that you'll know how much I love you, because I finally, finally, found the person that I wake up each morning, smiling all silly at because of how much I love you." Komaeda exhales shakily. "So this is my vow to love you until the world shatters and my soul can't reincarnate with you anymore. Know that no matter how much the world will kill me, I'll never leave or break you. I love you, my angel, my world, my heart, and my home."
You wipe your tears quietly, and Souda hands the two of you the rings. Komaeda slips it onto your ring finger, pausing to stare at it. You hold his ring, pausing when you notice the tears pricking the corner of his eyes. You reach to wipe the tears, wiping his tears with your handkerchief as he sniffs quietly. He mumbles a quiet apology, lifting his hand so that you can put his ring on. He wipes his tears as you wait for his vision to clear a little so that he could look at you.
You slip the ring on, a stupid smile on your face, the smile of a lovesick fool.
Impostor starts again. The moment you think you've been waiting for your entire life. Your heart rings in your head, and you can almost hear Komaeda's heart beating in his chest.
"You may now kiss the—"
You feel bad for interrupting Impostor, but as you press your lips to Komaeda, throwing your arms around him in glee, the umbrella falling to the side as Komaeda's caught off guard, you decide it's fine. Though, Komaeda doesn't complain as the familiar feeling of your lips on his causes him to relax into your arms, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. His lashes flutter as he tilts his neck to get more comfortable, and the rain soaks his hair. He might catch a cold from this, but he supposes he would only get married once. It didn't matter how his luck cycle would affect him.
The rain ceases over your head, and you pout when you pull away. "I wanted to run in the rain with you."
"It'll rain later," Komaeda hums. "We can run when it's later at night. Just the two of us"
You blink slowly, staring at Komaeda as you pause.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs
⚠︎ smut (mdni)
✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?
summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.
(heeseung x fem.reader)
wc: 3.2k
——————————————————————————
your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.
you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.
you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.
you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.
the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.
as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.
your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.
‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.
you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.
“hey look im so-“
“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.
“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”
“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”
lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.
“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”
the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.
“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”
“i didn’t mean it like that-“
“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.
“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.
you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.
>>
you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.
people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?
over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.
“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.
you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.
“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.
if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.
as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.
heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.
“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.
“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.
a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.
he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.
he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.
suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.
the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.
your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.
grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.
many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.
you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.
“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.
heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.
“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?
“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.
“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.
“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.
heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”
“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.
“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”
you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”
“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.
“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.
you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?
“you know what, you’re right.”
“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.
heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.
he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.
“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.
“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.
heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….
no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!
“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“
“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“
“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.
he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.
he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.
“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.
“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.
“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.
heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”
nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.
he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.
>>
“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.
after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.
“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“
in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.
“what the fuck? heeseung-“
“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.
“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.
you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.
you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”
not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.
The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.
“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.
he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.
“holy shit go softer dumbass.”
“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.
“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.
“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”
heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?
he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.
shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?
“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.
heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.
“just put it in for fucks sake!”
“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.
“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.
“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.
you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.
“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.
“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.
“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”
before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.
“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.
“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”
“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.
“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.
your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.
tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.
you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”
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