#BEFORE ANYONE GETS WORRIED. i made this last night when i was unwell for reasons completely unrelated to the reasons ive been unwell today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

royallyjoon · 4 years

Text

nephilim (deux)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior, manipulation

deep in the forest lies the home to the infamous, successful kim family. you steeled yourself to enter the lions’ den, where kind, masked souls surrounded you, welcoming you with open hearts and open arms. you, however, still keep your wits about you. you protect yourself by getting comfortable, but not too close. but it’s alright. put your guard up to your hearts’ content. you are their favorite past time, after all. either way, sooner or later, you will be theirs...

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The five Kim siblings couldn’t be more elated, watching the object of their eye sleep without a care in the world.

They remained quiet, speaking in whispers as they strove not to wake you up. Your guarded attitude around them had escaped no one, and they, quite frankly, found it adorable.

You were the only one who didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve around them.

The sleek, black van turned corner after corner around the winding paths of Ichabod, passing homes, places of commerce, and office buildings.

The Kim family lived deep within the woods, not too far away from the base of the monthly gatherings. All of the other town dwellers would walk from their homes, located at various points in the city, into the twisting black woods in order to appear at the meeting on time.

For the Kims would accept nothing less than perfection.

After another twenty minutes, Driver Bin cautiously approached a narrow dirt path and he directed the car onto the incline, winding upwards on the hill. The car then veered off to the right, entering a secluded road that would lead specifically to the Kim family mansion.

It stood, raised on wooden platforms with impressive glass windows. The exterior shone in the afternoon sunlight, polished cherry wood glistening through the orange and green leaves on the forest trees.

There was no ostentatious fountain or statue outside the front of the home, nor were there piled bodies of the forsaken lying around their grounds, contrary to popular schoolyard taunts and beliefs.

Only a winding, wooden staircase that led to the front door.

The boys stared out the window, gaze breaking away from you for only a moment as they watched the approaching front gate.

A black, iron-wrought masterpiece, as well as their father’s pride and joy: the front gate worked all too well at keeping unwanted guests outside and favored guests inside of the Kim household.

Each of the brothers had grown up detesting that gate. Whether on purpose or by accident, it kept them locked up from the outside world, ostracizing them even more than they had already thought possible.

But now, as the old iron monstrosity creaked open, and as they watched their beloved sleep ever so sweetly....

Why, they wouldn’t have wished for anything other than for that gate to close once and for all, leaving you with them forever.

The metal closed with an ominous clang, and the van pulled into the home’s garage as the sun began to set.

——————————————————————

You peeled your eyes open, disoriented for just a moment before pure panic bled through.

The last thing you remembered was getting into the Kim’s car on your way to their home.

But now, you lay in a queen size, four poster bed covered with soft (f/c) sheets. The dark brown, wooden frame had beautiful gossamer, white sheets hanging down, wrapped around each end so that you could sit up without them getting in your way.

You looked down and found your school uniform still on, albeit a bit wrinkled. There was a sweater a bit too large for you wrapped around your shoulders. Your shoes were no longer on your feet, and the thought of someone taking those off for you made you flustered.

You weren’t sure how you had gotten to the room, but logic reasoned that one of the boys must have brought you in here to rest...

Your face twisted into an unreadable expression...you weren’t particularly sure how to feel about that.

You should thank them and apologize, of course, but still, the entire situation only heightened your unease.

Your phone and backpack lay on the table next to the bed, and you picked the device up, checking the time. To your surprise, it had only been an hour since you left the school grounds.

You texted your mother that you had arrived before getting off the bed and walking to the door in your socks. Before you could open it, however, your phone began to buzz in your hand.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! Is everything alright?” Your mother’s voice, tired but worried, sounded out from across the line.

“Yeah, everything’s fine! We just got here. I had to use the bathroom so they led me to a guest room; that’s where I am right now.” You paced around the room as you spoke before sitting on the edge of the bed and fingering the silk canopy.

You decided not to tell your mother about the falling asleep part. What she didn’t know couldn’t worry her.

“That’s good. I get out of work in a couple of hours, I’ll call you when I’m on my way. Just tell me how the project’s going in the meantime, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She cautioned you one more time before hanging up the phone.

You put it in your skirt pocket and pulled open the wooden door, relieved by the fact that it made no sound. It led you to a hallway and you carefully walked out into it, making sure not to disturb anyone.

You surmised that you were located on the bottom floor of the house. The room you were in had been situated at the very end of the hallway, and you found the lack of noise unsettling.

At first, the only thing you could hear was the soft padding of your socked feet on the hardwood floor, but as you walked down the hallway, the sound of talking and laughing got louder and louder.

You peeked your head around the corner to see all five of the boys seated in a sort of lounge with large, floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

The Kims had somehow managed to perfectly blend the appearance of old money with the taste and style of new money artwork and design. The house looked like something straight out of a romantic fiction, young adult novel.

As you looked around the living room, it was somewhat hard for you to take in the amount of wealth in the home. The windows offered a splendid view of the surrounding forest from the inside, although clouded a bit by coffee voile curtains. Before them sat two settees with a small, rounded glass table between them. Closer to the entrance where you stood sat a gray sofa across from a much longer, L-shaped couch.

Taehyung and Jimin sat roughhousing passionately on the sofa while Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook sat on the longer couch opposite them. The former was laughing at the two’s shenanigans, clapping his hands in glee and the latter two were occupied with separate activities: Namjoon reading, occasionally pushing his glasses up on his face and Jungkook concerned with something on his phone.

You hesitantly walked out. “...Jimin?”

All five heads snapped up as they watched you approach.

Jimin’s face broke out into an even bigger smile and he jumped up to stand in front of you. “(Y/N)! How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“Did you sleep well?” Taehyung smiled mischievously from the couch, but you could tell from his tone that he meant well.

Your cheeks darkened in embarrassment. “Yeah! I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I thought I had handled my fatigue pretty well, but I guess it never actually left. You could’ve woken me up, you know...” You spoke with your head down, looking at your hands as they wrung together.

You heard the room go silent for a moment, just as you feared it would. When you looked up, all five of the boys had an enigmatic expression on their face.

It sent chills down your back, just how quickly their attitudes had switched. They went from joyful laughter and peaceful content to emotions you felt were unstable...you sensed a bit of helplessness paired with indifference, and the slightest hint of anger and contempt.

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to remind of them of the reason why they were ostracized so much, why they were seen as different. You mentally smacked yourself in the forehead, making a note to be more sensitive about the topic while you were in their presence.

The sound of a hardcover book snapping shut broke the silence, causing you to jump.

Namjoon gently placed the book he was reading on the couch’s armrest and looked at you with a cordial smile. “You should take better care of yourself, (Y/N). It wouldn’t do for you to fall asleep in your classes or end up unwell.”

With that sentence, the spell was broken.

Jimin gently took your forearm and tugged you into the direction of the sofa he was sitting on earlier, pouting as he spoke. “I should have known...you looked ready to drop since our break this morning.”

He seated you and took the place on your right as you waved him off. “It’s fine, it was my fault-”

“If you still want to rest, feel free to go back to the guest room!” Taehyung added, claiming the spot on the other side of you.

“Never feel like you have to hide how you feel around us, (Y/N).” Hoseok said with another winning grin, leaning forward in his seat.

You blinked warily at all of their support. “Well...thanks, guys.”

Your eyes stopped on Jungkook, who was staring at you, and his heavy gaze made you itch.

You leaned back in your seat and felt the sweater you’d woken up with start to slip.

You pulled it off of your shoulders, beginning to question how it even got there in the first place, and met eyes with Jungkook again. “Is this yours...?”

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak for the first time. “You were shivering in your sleep in the car. I thought you might need it, so I left it with you after I carried you in.”

You folded it and handed it back to him, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Thank you, Jungkook. Again, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you all like that.”

He took it from you, large eyes getting slightly wider in wonder.

“It’s alright, (Y/N). We’re glad to help you out with whatever you need.” Namjoon nodded and smiled, the dimple in his left cheek prominent. You smiled, a bit more relaxed now but still cautious of your behavior.

“Thank you for welcoming me to your lovely home, then.” You replied, admiring the layout once more.

“Aww, she thinks our home is lovely.” Taehyung gushed. “Seokjin hyung would love to hear that someone finally appreciates his taste in design.”

You cocked your head at him. “Your brother designed this living room?”

“Our eldest brother,” Jimin gushed. “He threw a huge tantrum a couple of years ago, complaining to our parents about how much he couldn’t stand the decor, so they let him draw up a design plan...then they ended up going along with it.”

“He and Yoongi hyung, our other brother, are usually studying away at college,” Taehyung went on. “Our parents bought them an apartment in the city so they could be closer to the campus, but because they have to be present for the meetings, they come back home for a bit every month.”

“They were here last night, but then they had to leave immediately.” Hoseok added.

Before the discussion could continue, you heard the sound of sharp clacks approaching the room.

“My darling sons,” A tilting voice spoke from the entryway and out came one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen (aside from your mother, of course).

She glided across the wooden floor in sensibly high heels, a silk dress complementing her figure and a tan blazer resting on her shoulders. In her hands, she carried a silver tray full of neatly arranged snacks.

“I brought a little something for you all to enjoy! I know how hungry you all get-oh....who is this?” She slowed with a smile as she approached the couch.

Kim Eunbyul was not a person meant to be taken lightly. Her status in this town was no different than royalty, and she exemplified grace with every step that she took.

As expected of the two time winner of the Pluton Actress Award.

You stared at her in amazement before you quickly snapped back to your senses and rose, giving a polite bow in greeting. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim! I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” she hummed, laying the tray on the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Might I ask why you’ve decided to visit our humble home?”

“She’s here on my invitation, Mother.” Jimin spoke and your gaze snapped over to him in shock. His tone sounded so...flat, so unfazed, so unlike every other expression you’d heard him use today. “We have a group project for Mrs. Hargrove’s class, one that will be a considerable part of our grade.”

“Alright, I understand.” She chided him slightly, seemingly used to his attitude. She came to stand before you, leaning a good couple of inches above you. “Let me get a good look at you.”

You smiled at her—an actual smile this time, albeit a small one—as she grasped your hands in hers.

To your surprise, you could feel them tremble slightly.

You stood there, making an effort to avoid eye contact as she studied you. When you looked to the brothers’ in an attempt for nonverbal help, your breath hitched.

The siblings gazed at their mother with something likened to...no, something that was utter detestation.

Jungkook payed her no mind, his thumb obsessively stroking the sweater he held in his possession once more.

Hoseok and Taehyung openly glared at their mother behind her back, the elder’s lips frowning in annoyance and the younger’s twisting into a sneer.

Jimin’s eyes glued onto her, oozing indifference, his gaze all too similar to the one he’d sent Mrs. Hargrove earlier that day.

Namjoon simply watched his mother with cocky amusement glinting in his eyes.

Mrs. Kim gave your hands a gentle squeeze and she smiled. “You have a wonderful energy around you, my dear. You possess a wisdom far beyond your years, and great power as well. I advise you to be wary of some of the people around you, though. They may want to steal your power for themselves.” She gave a small sigh and pat the back of your hands before lowering them gently.

“Thank...you?” You smiled at her in polite confusion. As far as you knew, Mrs. Kim was an actress. No one had said anything about her being able to tell people’s fortunes.

Your classmates would have called her a witch.

But with her husband acting as Wylynne’s divine messenger, would she truly have no powers herself...?

“Of course, my dear.” She gave you one last smile. “Please, enjoy yourself, and make yourself right at home. Our doors will always be open to you.”

She then left the living room, not so much as sparing a glance towards her sons. Not that they would have wanted it anyway, for they looked as though they couldn’t stand a second longer of her presence.

You watched her go, leaving with the same grace that she came in with, but much quicker than before.

Your palm still tickled from the feeling of her trembling hand in yours.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon stood up, brushing off his uniform pants. “I wouldn’t take her prediction to heart. Our mother tends to do that to everyone she meets-”

“Are they true?”

“...What?”

Just as you started getting slightly comfortable in this bizarre atmosphere, Namjoon’s intense stare brought you back to the present, reminding you of your place.

“Is there some truth to her evaluations?” You innocently asked, trying not to cave under the weight of the older boy’s attention.

“I must admit, I wouldn’t know,” he chuckled, his gaze softening, “we’re the only ones she refuses to do a reading on.”

You nodded, intrigued. “I see. I just find those interesting, is all...”

“Well,” Jimin interrupted, hopping up and clapping his hands. “we should get started on our project!”

“I left my bag in the room, I should go get it.” You turned to go in the general direction of the hallway from which you came but was stopped by Taehyung gently grabbing your elbow.

“Here!” He stood up, toeing his sandals off and sliding them in your direction. “Jungkook took your shoes off and placed them at the front of the house with the rest of ours, so you might need these.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ll be sure to return them before I leave.” You smiled at him.

He blushed and grinned in return.

Jungkook's hair fell into his eyes as he looked down in shame. “I should have prepared a pair of slippers for you while you were sleeping, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it!” You claimed, just to watch his eyes light up again.

“Good luck on the project, you two!” Hoseok said, turning to leave.

“Let me come with you, (Y/N)!” Jimin said, taking you by the hand. “We’ll be right back, Namjoon hyung!”

He pulled you towards the entryway and you heard the boys start to disassemble behind you, heading off toward their respective locations with the exception of Namjoon, who sat back down on the couch to wait.

You traipsed down the hallway with Jimin. “I think your mother is a lovely person,” you quietly stated.

Jimin didn’t pause, but his grip on your elbow tightened before he turned to you, eyes scrunched together because of his wide smile. “I’m glad you think so! I think she likes you as well.”

You smiled back at him, carefully watching his expression, before turning your gaze to the wood floor. He stood at the doorway as you grabbed your bag and arranged the bed.

When that was finished, the two of you walked down the hallway and met up with Namjoon, and ascended to the third floor of the home.

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The Kims’ library looked like something out of Beauty and the Beast, though it was nowhere near as grandiose in height. Your inner bookworm squealed at the sight of all the books lining the shelves, as well as the plush couch and beanbags resting in the leftmost corner of the library.

You held on to the strap of your bag, following Jimin and Namjoon as they weaved their way through multiple bookcases.

Namjoon reached a dilapidated wooden shelf at the back of the room. His fingers trailed over the book backings and he backtracked and picked one up, blowing the dust off of it only to end up coughing. Jimin muffed his giggle as he covered his nose and mouth with his sweater sleeve.

“I believe this is what you were looking for,” he said once his coughing fit was over, “The Word of the Lost.”

What a fascinating title...

“Ah, yes, hyung! This is exactly what we needed!” Jimin’s eyes practically sparkled as he took the book from his brother. It was an old, leather bound thing and the glossy pages flashed underneath the dim library lights.

It reminded you of the older bibles with illuminated pages.

“Thank you for helping us look.” You said. Namjoon nodded toward you with his classic student-body-president smile.

“Of course. I thumbed through this book many times as a child.” Namjoon said. “I’m sure you both will be able to find a fascinating creature to do your report on.”

The three of you walked out from the labyrinth of shelves and you beelined toward the couch, making yourself comfortable.

Jimin came to sit next to you, placing the book on his lap and waving goodbye to his brother. While you were bent over retrieving your school materials, Namjoon returned the wave with a smirk and left the library, leaving the two of you to your work.

You pulled out your notebook and a writing utensil, turning to Jimin as your academic weariness set in once more. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” he stated, opening the book. “I don’t spend as much time in the library as Namjoon hyung, but I do remember there being a host of creatures in this book...”

UnFortunately, Namjoon’s recollection of the text was spot on. There were so many mythological creatures, you and Jimin were overwhelmed and didn’t know which one to pick.

“How about banshees?” Jimin suggested.

“The harbingers of death?” You mused. “I know of them. They’re one of my favorites.”

“Ah...then what about the wendigo?”

You shuddered. “I know about them as well; their folklore is so interesting, but so creepy.”

Jimin nodded, paging through the novel again. “We could research golems?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’ve heard about them before relative to Jewish mythology...and they’re somewhat similar to the Egyptian ushabti.”

Jimin playfully groaned and dropped his head back onto the couch. “You’re so learned, (Y/N)! How did you hear about all of these mythological figures?”

You shrugged and smiled a bit, doodling in your notebook. “I’ve just come across them in some way or another...usually through the media.”

You gently took the book off of Jimin’s lap and decided to thumb through it yourself, turning to the chapter list to see the different branches of creatures. Your finger ran down the list before stopping at a certain name.

“...Jimin, have you ever heard anything about nephilim?”

He stiffened and his brows furrowed. “No. What are they?”

You flipped the book to the demonstrated page number and began reading. “‘Nephilim are creatures conceived of humans and angels. These fascinating individuals are born with immense amounts of both angelic grace and the original sin of human beings.’” You beamed. “Perfect! This creature sounds the most interesting-”

You turned to speak to Jimin and found his face uncomfortably close to yours. Gone was the innocent, boyish expression on his face, replaced by an endearing and inquisitive stare.

You immediately turned your head to look back down at the page. “-of the creatures...and the least known,” you mumbled, hoping he couldn’t see the tint of red on your cheeks.

Rather than taking the book for himself, Jimin started reading it over your shoulder. You tried not to breathe too hard with his proximity.

He’s too close...

“‘As they mature, they must come to terms with their proclivity to sin and balance it out with their angelic nature. Nevertheless, this arduous task often leaves them with an identity crisis, and most succumb to their sinful natures.’” Once he finished, he turned to you with an impressed look. “You’re right! This sounds really interesting, and if you haven’t heard of these figures, then they should definitely be the one we research.”

“Yeah! So we should get started, then,” you said, pulling out your laptop and casually reseating yourself a couple inches away from Jimin.

“Mrs. Hargrove wants us to do a presentation as well as write an essay for this project...which do you think we should we work on first?” You asked him, sending your mother your location, and opening a new tab.

“We could write the essay first, and then pull information from that to combine it with what we find from our research for the presentation.” Jimin suggested, taking out a laptop of his own.

“Sounds good! I shared a document with you.”

The both of you spent the next two hours on your computers, researching as many articles on nephilim as possible. It was somewhat difficult, finding authentic sources about the creatures rather than commentaries on media representations of them, but working off of what The Word of the Lost gave you, there was enough to compile a hefty source list.

After that, however, you, still mentally exhausted, started to get distracted, and then Jimin decided to take a break as well. The project was due near the end of the semester, and the two of you had made enough progress for tonight. You deserved this break.

Outside, the light changed from the orange afternoon sun to the cool blue of evening. Before your very eyes, the sky outside was purple, and the oranges and greens of the leaves had disappeared in the dark, turning into obscure figures and shapes outside the window that left you wanting to pull the curtains closed.

A couple of minutes later, you were startled by the click of the library doors.

Mrs. Kim peered through the opening. “Ah, there you both are!”

She approached you and Jimin with two glasses of water, one in each hand.

You took the glass she handed to you and expressed your thanks. Her hands didn’t seem to be trembling as much as they were earlier.

“How is it going?”

“We made a lot of progress--I think this project is going to be a good one.” You smiled at her and she returned it, relieved.

She raised a hand and paused, hesitantly lowering it gently into Jimin’s hair and stroking it lovingly. The boy froze, lowering the glass from his lips and turning to look at Mrs. Kim.

“Yes, thank you, Mother.” His tone remained flat.

She breathed out a sigh and nodded at him before turning to you. “(Y/N), darling, I believe your mother has arrived downstairs.”

Your eyes widened and you began packing your school materials. “Oh, really? She didn’t even tell me! I must have overstayed my welcome.”

Mrs. Kim laughed lightheartedly. “Not at all dear. It’s most likely because she encountered my husband along the way. They’re both seated downstairs, talking.”

On the outside, you managed to give Mrs. Kim a pleasant smile. On the inside, however, your thoughts were raging.

Why, of all people, would Kim Moonsik want to have a conversation with her?

If that old man tries to sacrifice my mother to his creepy little moon goddess, I swear, I’ll-

“I can take you to meet with her, no worries.” Mrs. Kim stated, bringing her blazer closer around her shoulders. “I’ll just wait for you outside.”

She glanced at Jimin once more and turned away, heels clacking on the floor as the click of the door sounded.

You zipped up your bag, having nothing else to pack, and pulled it over your shoulder.

Before you could stand to leave, however, Jimin gently took your hand in his.

“(Y/N), before you go, I just wanted to say thank you.”

The boy was looking down at his lap, his eyes covered by strands of his hair. You patiently waited for him to finish.

“I know everyone is suspicious of us and would rather not interact with us at all for fear of...” he paused on the last bit, “but you have been the only to one to approach us wholeheartedly.”

“Thank you for not treating us like freaks, or some sort of plague or disease like everyone else.” Jimin raised his head, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

You smiled and gently squeezed his hand. “Please, think nothing of it. Why would I treat you like something you’re not?”

“You and your brothers are all just people. You’re a family, just like how everyone else in this town has families.” You spoke quietly. “You may not be the most...orthodox of families, yes, but you’re hardly to blame for that. Who’s to decide what the norm is anyway?”

Besides, I have no reason to hurt you or yours, you thought.

Jimin huffed out a sob and gathered you in his arms in a hug. You grunted, as it was unexpected, but hesitantly raised your arms to pat him on the back.

“It’s alright,” you murmured.

Behind your back, Jimin did have tears falling down his face, but rather than a look of sorrow or suffering, sheer, hysterical glee appeared on his face.

He struggled to suppress the broad grin threatening to take over his expression.

The smell of your hair was intoxicating...

“I thank the goddess for you, (Y/N),” he murmured, low enough that you could not make out what he said.

He made sure he regained control of his expression and then pulled away from the hug with a soft smile. He stood up and took your bag for you, much like how you had taken his earlier that day, and led you to his mother, who was waiting outside.

The three of you walked down the two flights of stairs to find Namjoon, Hoseok, and their father speaking with your mother.

She was quite the visage in their home, sitting on the smaller gray sofa, still in her scrubs.

Kim Moonsik sat in front of her, with one of his sons on either side, looking like interviewers for a job position, while she sat on the edge of the couch opposite them, her hands placed in her lap and looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Yes, well, working at the hospital has its downsides, but it also has its valuable life experience,” you heard her say. “I truly enjoy caring for and working with all kinds of patients, as well as with the staff of the inter-professional team.”

You heard a hearty laugh, followed by the voice that you were supposed to only be subject to once a month.

“Careers like yours are crucial in the eyes of the moon goddess, Ms. (L/N). It sounds as though you’re doing a wonderful job.” Kim Moonsik grinned and nodded at your mother, who forced a laugh. “Wylynne looks down on you with favor.”

“Ah, thank you, Mayor Kim. Praise Wylynne...”

She made eye contact with you as you descended the staircase and quietly sighed in relief.

“There’s our guest for the evening!” Mr. Kim cheered and stood up, walking to stand in front of you and Jimin while his wife slipped by, pressing a kiss to his cheek, as she went to sit next to your mother.

Without the luminescent glow of the moon or the intimidating glow of purple flames streaking across his face, Kim Moonsik almost looked like any other successful businessman and father. He and his wife both had dark hair and dark eyes, and they appeared to be quite the happy couple.

But there was no way that the past several years of monthly meetings was a dream. There was plenty of reason for caution around them, no matter how pleasant they may seem.

Your mother had nagged enough sense into you for you to know that much, at the very least.

You bowed again, hoping your nerves weren’t showing through your voice. “Good evening, Mr. Kim. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He chuckled in a good natured manner. “The pleasure is all mine...I trust you and Jimin were able to accomplish what you needed for your project?”

How did he know? “Ah, yes...we made loads of progress today.” You smiled politely.

“Eunbyul told me all about our visitors just before I arrived,” he responded as though he heard your question and smiled proudly, gently clapping Jimin on the back. “That’s amazing news to hear.”

Jimin smiled cordially, pulling you away from his father and walked over towards his brothers.

“(Y/N)-ie is leaving us now,” Hoseok fake pouted.

You grimace-smiled at him.

“Please,” Namjoon scoffed. “She’ll be over here so many times, we’ll start to get sick of her, right (Y/N)?”

“As long as you don’t mind having me over,” you said. “We have until the end of the semester to do the project, so, yeah, I might be over a couple more times...” You slowed as the reality of the situation started to hit. “Actually, Jimin, can I see your phone?”

He handed you his phone and you put your number in his contacts and texted yourself. “Now you have my number, and I have yours.” You smiled at him and handed the device back.

Jimin’s eyes widened in glee and he grinned in return. “Thanks, (Y/N)!”

Hoseok’s fists tightened his pockets.

Kim Eunbyul stood to her feet, her conversation apparently over. “You and your daughter are welcome any time,” she emphasized, placing a hand on your mother’s back.

“Indeed, Ms. (L/N), Our home is your home.” Kim Moonsik added, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“Thank you so much, we’re truly grateful for the invitation.” You heard your mother say.

You carefully slid Taehyung’s sandals off your feet and lifted them up. Jimin handed you your backpack in exchange for the sandals and you took it, swinging it over your shoulders. “Please tell Taehyung and Jungkook I said goodbye, and that it was lovely meeting you all.” You said.

“We will!” Hoseok smiled, waving goodbye.

“See you tomorrow at school!” Jimin called and waved enthusiastically.

You waved and bowed to the Kims one more time, then took your mother’s hand and walked down the front steps.

Her car was parked outside the garage (read: haphazardly strewn across the asphalt).

Your mother got into the front seat and put on her seatbelt without saying a word. Even when she began to drive, she was eerily silent.

It was not until the both of you were outside of the gates, down the hill, and outside of the forest that your mother abruptly stepped on the brakes and unbuckled her seatbelt, exiting the car.

You repeated her movements in alarm, slamming the passenger door shut and running to the other side of the car.

You got there just in time to watch as she keeled over on the side of the road and began to throw up.

“Mom!”

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Back at the Kim household, the instant the two guests left, a violent chill swept across the room.

Hoseok went to stand threateningly in front of Jimin. “Don’t go around thinking you’re better than the rest of us.”

The younger boy’s grin morphed into a devilish sneer. “Be careful, hyung...it’s starting to sound like you’re jealous.” He shook his phone, still open to (Y/N)’s contact information, tauntingly.

Namjoon scoffed at their bickering before turning his attention to smile at Moonsik and Eunbyul. “Mother...Father...we bid you goodnight.”

Hoseok smirked, following Namjoon up the stairs.

Jimin made a move to go follow them as well, but he stopped in front of Eunbyul.

“Mother dearest.” The sophomore gripped the woman’s chin, turning her gaze to land directly on him. “As the most talented actress in our county, your performance could have been a bit more...convincing.”

He looked her up and down, and then released her, throwing her to the right and out of his direct path. Eunbyul stumbled to the side, her form quite visibly shaking.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the future.”

Jimin shouldered Moonsik, climbing past him up to his room on the second floor.

-------------------------------------------------

Your mother had stopped throwing up, but you continued rubbing her back comfortingly.

She stood up on wobbly legs and you supported her on the way back to the car. You reached in your bag for your water bottle and some tissues, handing them to her.

She cleaned her mouth off, swished some water around in her mouth, spat it out the window, and then drank some more.

Before you could even ask if she was alright, she turned to you with another stern look. “I was so worried about you.”

Your eyes widened incredulously, but softened just as fast. “Mom, you didn’t have to worry! We were just working on a class project, like I said.”

Your mother nodded and sighed, putting the seatbelt back on. “I understand. It-it’s just terrifying to realize how close you were to-” She trailed off and tried again. “I mean, what if....”

This was a first, for you, to see your mother so visibly shaken.

She usually was, and is, the epitome of strength in your life. To think that seeing the Kims jarred her to this point...

You grasped your mother’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. They’re just people, Mom.”

“People can be just as dangerous as deities,” she whispered, putting the car into drive.

With that thought, the both of you sat in ominous silence until you had arrived at your home.

-----------------------------------------------------

Once you and your mother arrived, you both had dinner and you ensured that she was able to go to bed of sound mind and heart. From the way she pushed you off of her, you surmised she had collected herself enough to return to her usual temperament.

You made your way up the stairs to your room and threw your bag somewhere near you desk, booking it to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, after a refreshing shower and a change of clothes, you sat at your desk. It was already significantly late, and you still had to complete the other classes’ homework that you didn’t have the chance to start while at the Kim’s.

As you basked in the comfort of your home’s walls, you felt truly relaxed for the first time that night.

Jimin and his brothers were, for the most part nice, although misunderstood. The student body usually stayed away from them because of their parents and the influence they had on this town.

Perhaps if this town were normal...

You sighed and immediately chased the thought away. This town was far from normal, that couldn’t be clear enough. And with Kim Moonsik in charge, the sense of unearthliness clearly wouldn’t change any time soon.

You spent the next couple of hours doing the other assignments to the best of your ability. When you deemed it enough, you decided to call it a night, packing your things away and climbing under the covers.

Just as you began scrolling through social media, your phone vibrated from an incoming notification and your brows furrowed.

Who was still awake at this hour? And why were they contacting you?

Perhaps it was Mana, you thought, begging to hear details about what it was like at the Kim house before tomorrow. You probably should have texted them when you got home, considering school was no longer the most....open place to have these discussions.

Nevertheless, you opened your messages and, to your surprise, there lay a text from none other than Kim Jimin.

I’m really glad I met you, (Y/N) 😇

Aww, that’s sweet of him, you thought.

You paused, wondering if you should pretend that you’re asleep rather than text him back right now, as the conversation could always continue in the morning.

You also thought of how he might nag you should he discover you’re awake at this hour after passing out in his car and at his house, and winced.

Yes, it would be best to ignore that until tomorrow morning.

Having had enough of the day, you put your phone to charge and pressed your head to the pillow, falling asleep.

-----------------------------------------------------

As Jimin lay in bed that night, he thought about your comment earlier this afternoon.

“I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night...You could’ve woken me up, you know...”

It wasn’t the fact that they were reminded of the sacrifice last night that made them pause.

No, it was the fact that that worthless scum caused their beloved to lose precious hours, minutes, and even seconds of sleep.

Almost every meaningful contribution Natalia Pierre gave life, served to make yours more difficult than it already was.

She should have been a sacrifice much, much sooner.

On the other hand, they should have thanked her, they supposed. For it was her demise that led you to sleep so silently, so soundly in their presence.

They had finally gotten the opportunity to see you at your most vulnerable, and they couldn’t get enough of it.

But they reined in their greed and held any dominating thoughts at bay. For patience was the art of the game.

Sooner or later, willingly or unwillingly, you would present yourself to them and their company.

And they would welcome you with open hearts and open arms.

---------------------------------------------------

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy

#yandere bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere #ot7 #ot7 x reader #yandere ot7 x reader #yandere kim seokjin #yandere min yoongi #yandere jung hoseok #yandere kim namjoon #yandere park jimin #yandere kim taehyung #yandere jeon jungkook #high school au #college au #supernatural

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missjaystone · 3 years

Text

Inescapable

Summary: Even in the middle of the ocean, your alpha manages to find you, even if it was an accident. Pairing(s): Alpha!Helmut Zemo x Reader Word Count: 3,640 Warning(s): NONCON! DUBCON! A/B/O Dynamics! Forced Claiming! Manipulation! Implied Stalking! Miscarriage mentioned! Death mentioned!

Everything around you froze when you looked up and met a certain pair of brown eyes, a certain sparkle when they looked into yours. The contact was brief before he was led around the corner by the Dora Milaje but it felt like it would never end. You worked on the Raft as a therapist to put as much distance between the two of you as possible but now that he was here, where could you go? The way he smiled at you as he walked by, it wasn't comforting like the first time you'd seen it, it made your heart stop in fear. It made his claiming mark on your neck throb in pain, a reminder of how much power he'd had over you before and how much he'd always have. It reminded you that he was your alpha, whether you wanted him to be or not. The man that passed by you wasn't the man you'd met, he was much worse.

The battle was over, your husband was dead, the child you were growing followed suit not long after you got the news, like he couldn't bear to even be born in a world without his father; you couldn't even blame him, you'd contemplated ending your own life to join your husband in whatever afterlife awaited. You'd just gone back to work after your allotted week of bereavement leave and another week of personal time. You weren't sure if you were ready to go back to work or not, but at the very least it would distract you. The first thing you noticed when stepping into your office were the pictures of you, your husband, and his family. You turned the picture frames face down before you could stare for too long, everyone in the pictures was dead; your husband, your mother and father in law, your two brothers-in-law, everyone.

Your first patient came exactly at 9:30 for their appointment. He was a brown-eyed brunette man of average height, dressed surprisingly nice for a therapy appointment. You greeted him with a soft smile and a handshake. "Welcome, Mr..." you trailed off so he could introduce himself. "Zemo," he answered, his thumb running over your knuckles gently before he let go of your hand and took a seat "Baron Helmut Zemo." "Would you like me to address you as Baron Zemo or Mr. Zemo? Or just simply Helmut if that would make you comfortable?" You asked him. "You can just call me Helmut, Doctor, but thank you for asking," he returned the same sad smile you'd given him when he came in. "Well, Helmut, I'm glad you came in. It's never easy dealing with loss and having someone to talk to is far better than bottling it up. I'm proud of you." He gave a single nod after looking around the office, motioning to the overturned picture on your desk "I thought my friend might be nuts to have referred me here but maybe you understand my pain better than anyone can." You smiled sadly at him "you'd be surprised at how many people understand." You saw his attention drift towards the sweets jar on your desk, holding it out to him "Turkish delight?" He smiled a bit more, this time a little more genuine as he took a piece out "don't mind if I do, Doctor."

After your first appointment, he came back twice a week. He told you about his wife and son, how much it hurt when he finally found their bodies amidst all the rubble. You asked him about his favorite memories with them, trying to make him remember the good times. You asked him about them; his wife's favorite flower or his son's favorite toy, encouraged him to open up about them. Soon he had you talking about your husband and the people you lost. It was amazing how effortlessly he tore down both your professional and emotional walls. He had you falling for him before you even knew you were.

For two months you tried every which way to talk him down off of his growing rage and hatred for the Avengers. You used everything you'd learned in school to make him understand breaking them apart wouldn't bring back his family or make anything better. At the beginning of the third month, he seemed to drop it, and you foolishly thought that was the end of it, that he'd seen reason. He'd slowly been getting bolder during your appointments, asking questions, each more personal than the last but only by a little. One evening, after seeing him for almost four months, he showed up about half an hour after your last appointment of the day, it was about a quarter of six. He was dressed just as nice as he always was, maybe even nicer "I hate to disturb you so late, doctor but may I take you out to dinner this evening? I'd very much like to thank you for these past months; I knew it's your job but I can't imagine what kind of troubled headspace I'd be in if I didn't have you to talk to." He'd asked so politely, how could you refuse? While you gathered your things, you missed the hungry look in his eyes. You missed the way they dragged over your body, the same way a lion looks at his prey. You'd be his omega soon. Whether you wanted it or not. You were his innocent, gentle little lamb and you needed to be protected from other wolves.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were at his favorite fine dining restaurant in all of Novi Grad. It was fun, the most fun you'd had in months since the battle of Sokovia and the heartbreak that followed. After that first dinner together, it became a more frequent occurrence, usually once a week after his appointment. You were smart, you knew how stupid it was to be dining with the patient so frequently. This professional relationship was becoming close and intimate. He had you on the hook before you could even realize it and pull away. As you began dining with him more, your guard fell. Helmut was no longer your patient, he was your friend, he understood your pains. You began dining together more frequently and then he introduced alcohol into the equation.

When you looked back at everything, you cursed yourself for being so stupid. How could you not see his plan? He was making you comfortable so it'd be easier for him to go in for the kill. Everything you shared with him would get used against you later. Helmut could play your mind like a flute and you let him, you gave him the tools he needed to find your weak spots and exploit them for his own benefit. If he'd crashed into your life and caused as much trouble as he had, you could hate him, but you let him in, welcomed him even and he made himself as comfortable as possible before finally taking what he came for.

Your first night together was gentle and slow, getting to know each other's bodies on such an intimate level. You turned your back to him afterward, eyes watering as the feeling of betrayal settled in the pit of your stomach like a stone. "What's the matter, malo jagnje? Did I hurt you?" He'd asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he looked you over worriedly. You shook your head, quickly wiping your tears before they hit the satin pillow sheets beneath you. "No, it's not you, Helmut," you whispered. "Then what?" He asked, a worried frown on his face. "I just worry, it feels too soon, like I've already started moving on," you answered with a sniffle. "Nobody mourns the same, jagnje, it's different for everyone. You told me that," he assured you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling your back to his chest.

He repeated everything you'd told him whenever you got emotional. 'Sometimes the best way to honor someone's memory is to find new ways to be happy' 'you can't beat yourself up for being happy without them, this is what they would have wanted' 'nobody can ever replace them but you can't wallow in self-pity forever'. Every piece of advice you gave him was used back against you. The two of you had been seeing each other for two months before you stopped answering his calls and messages. He'd shown up at your apartment when you hadn't returned his messages, worried something had happened to you, that his little side activities trying to destroy the Avengers might have led to you being hurt or captured or worse.

He was relieved to find you alive and well. "You haven't been speaking to me, are you unwell?" He asked after you hesitantly let him inside. "I don't think I can keep doing this, Helmut, I'm sorry," you said in a shaky, quiet voice. His face fell in disappointment "what's the matter? Have I done something? Malo jagnje, please, you can tell me anything you know that," he pleaded, taking your hand only to have it slowly pulled from his grasp.

"It's not you, Helmut," you said as clearly as you could muster, wiping the tears that were already beginning to roll down your cheeks. "Then what is it, moj voljeni? What's happened?" He pleaded for an answer. "It was too soon, I can feel myself forgetting him and I don't want to. I don't want to forget all the time me and Christoph spent imagining and building our future together. I don't want to forget about the baby we almost had, that died inside of me almost as soon as he heard the news of his father's death. I don't want to forget everything he and I had but when I'm with you, I feel the memories slipping away and I'm not ready and I'm so sorry for that Helmut," you told him, sniffling throughout. He stared at you for a long moment after you finished speaking, not saying anything. When he finally did react, he approached you and pressed a kiss to your forehead "I understand, little lamb, and I'll wait for you." With that, he gave you a tight hug, rubbing your back comfortingly as you sobbed into his chest for a bit before he left. You went to sleep that night thinking about how lucky you were to have a confidant like Helmut in your life.

You remembered thinking that was the end of things. He took it well and things would continue as they were before you became sexually involved. No wonder he called you his little lamb, you were too innocent and naive to see the anger in his eyes when you told him you'd stop sleeping together. If you knew then what you knew now, you would have run from the hills, hidden at the north pole. You would have gone to the police and gotten a restraining order or hired a security detail. But you didn't do any of that. You were a lamb being led to the slaughter by no one other than yourself.

Helmut stormed into your office on a night he knew you stayed late to put the week's worth of notes away in their correct files. As fast as he'd appeared, he'd closed and locked the door behind him, watching your stunned form for a reaction. "Helmut?" You barely managed to get his name out before he'd crossed the room, pulling you to him and into a rough kiss. No matter how much you shoved his chest, he only pulled away when he was ready to. He effortlessly picked you up and set you on your desk, already positioning himself between your legs "I've waited for you to realize your mistake, jagnje, but I'll wait no more. I know you love me, омега, you're troubled mind is still reeling from the loss too much to accept it." "Helmut, I don't want this anymore, stop it," you shoved him away but it did little to dissuade him. It only angered him.

He grabbed your jaw tightly and made you look into his eyes; the pools of brown swirls had been replaced by black, lust-blown pupils of a... an alpha going through his rut. It sent waves of panic through your mind but waves of something else to your core. You whimpered when you felt your heartbeat speed up, reacting to the alpha's close, intimidating presence. "Helmut this isn't what you want, this isn't you," you tried to reason despite the rising panic telling you to run. He chuckled darkly "oh, little lamb, this is what I've longed for since before I stepped foot in your office. I caught a whiff of your sweet, scent when you visited the memorial all those months ago and I knew you'd be mine. You might not want to admit it, but your body knows you need an alpha like me to treat you right, keep you safe," he hummed as he ground the growing bulge in his pants against your clothed core. "Helmut-" you started, but his squeezing your jaw harder made you stop immediately. "You'll address me as alpha from now on, little lamb. I'd rather not hurt you but tonight I will make you mine by any means necessary, understood?" He asked, loosening his hold so you could nod, which you did hesitantly.

Pleased, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them and your underwear down, a smirk appearing on his features. He pulled your pants completely off and discarded them carelessly, holding your underwear up so you could see just how much you didn't want this; the flimsy black fabric already had a small amount of slick arousal on it. You watched in embarrassed shock and he brought the fabric close and sniffed it, a pleased hum leaving his lips as he tucked them into the pocket of his pants. "I think you do want this little omega, you want to please your alpha don't you?" He asked softly as his hand slowly drifted higher up on your thigh. "You aren't my alpha, Helmut," you said bitterly, ignoring the tears that stung your eyes as you glared daggers at the man you'd considered your friend and confidant. He snarled and dropped his hand to your neck, squeezing until the air barely flowed "but I will me, little lamb. And you'll be my perfect little omega, my perfect girl who'll give me the family we both crave and deserve."

His hand on your thigh finally came in contact with your core which was already soaked and ready for him. He hastily pushed in two of his fingers, curling them as he pulled you into a dominating kiss, nipping your bottom lip enough to bruise. Your denials were muffled by his lips and soon faded into pitiful, needy whines from his unwanted touches. He smiled darkly against your lips when he felt your body arch into him "see, омега? Your body knows what it wants, it's that big beautiful brain of yours that's keeping you down." You shook your head, trying to save any dignity you had left, which was none "I don't want this, Helmut, and I don't want you!" The words felt like acid coming up but his chuckle hurt worse. He was three fingers deep in your cunt, pulling whines and quiet, muffled moans from your lips, he knew you didn't mean that.

When he abruptly pulled his fingers out, you regrettably let out a disappointed whine, another, needier whine following as you watched him suck his fingers clean without break eye contact. It took .2 seconds for him to undo his belt and push his pants and briefs down, stroking his throbbing cock while he looked into your eyes. His hand still holding your wrist remaining just as tight. "I'll always take good care of you, my needy little lamb, you'll never want for anything ever," he promised, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead that didn't match the roughness he used to immediately bury himself to the hilt. He started off with a brutal pace, not giving you any time at all to adjust as he had before. His thrusts were purely animalistic, he was just an alpha trying to knot the omega in front of him amid his own release. He let you bury your face in his chest as an escape for now, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your life.

"See, little lamb? See how much you need your alpha to make you feel good, make you feel better than good?" He asked when you finally gave up on trying to mentally escape the moment. "N-not my alpha," you stuttered out in between the rough hammering of his hips. He snarled and bared his teeth, eyes darkening even more than you thought possible. "We'll see," he mumbled angrily. He tilted your head and moved your hair out of the way quickly, leaving no time for you to react before he sunk his teeth into your mating gland, his hips faltering a few times before his movements went from thrusts to more a series of rapid ruts as his knot began to inflate. Your pained scream was music to his ears, it was the sound of you becoming his omega, making it so no other alpha alive would dare to so much as breath on you.

When he detached from your shoulder, he again pulled you into a kiss, making sure you could taste the metallic taste of your blood on his lips while the feeling of euphoria from the bite coursed through your veins, reaching every last nerve ending. He let out a pleased groan when he felt your cunt strain around his knot as you came, sending him headfirst into his own climax almost immediately. His face happily buried in your chest as he rode out his orgasm, ropes of his cum painting your walls, reaching your innermost areas while you held onto him for dear life.

Your stifled sobs made him look up, a small frown on his face. "Oh, little lamb, don't cry," he said softly as he wiped your cheeks "I just want to keep you safe from all the wolves in the world, it won't always be this way." He ignored how hard your palm connected to his cheek "you bastard!" He gently picked you up and sat down in your chair, letting you curl up in his lap without dislodging his knot, smirking slightly when he heard your whimper at the shift in position. He soothingly rubbed your back as he held you close, comforting you "it's okay, омега, I'd hoped you'd accept us on your own terms but my rut came early and nobody else will do." You hated this; being reduced to your dynamic, to some cock sleeve for him to use as he saw fit. He'd bound you to him for the rest of your lives and there was nothing you could do about it now, so you curled into his chest and sobbed until you had no more tears.

You recalled the way he stayed with you for the rest of the night, comforting and tending to you. He'd return often, usually every other day to take you out somewhere for a date or just show up at your apartment to do it all over again. You couldn't put up much of a fight, once he was close enough, your omega side came out and you were putty in his hands. And he knew that, and he treasured it. He showered you in gifts; clothes, jewelry, wines, books, everything he could think of. When his visits became few and further in between, you hated the nerves you felt. You hated the way you wondered when he'd come back home to you. You were messed up, and it felt like it was all your doing. You broke your professional rules. You let him into your life. You told him everything he needed to know to get to you. You let him claim you. You were Baron Helmut Zemo's little lamb, and he'd never let you forget it, leaving bruises on your thighs and hickeys on your neck to show any and everyone you were a protected little omega, and woe to anyone who caught your alpha's wrath.

You then had to watch in horror as his actions became known on the news; he'd never given up his plot to destroy the Avengers. He'd succeeded more than he could have ever dreamed of and now, he was in jail. He'd be in jail for the rest of his life. It felt like losing your husband all over again, the pain deep in your heart hurt twice as much now. You practically had to go through detox to get used to life without your Helmut around you. You were still protected by his mark but you'd never get to listen to him shower you with praises while he cleaned you up after sex. You had to get used to a life without being on his arm and you hated yourself for craving his attention and companionship that you'd still claim to hate.

He smiled so happy when they stopped while waiting for the door to open. He spoke in Sokovian so nobody around understood him "izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo." "What'd he just say?" Your superior asked, looking between the two of you. You felt that familiar stone in the pit of your stomach, he'd have you doing his bidding in no time. You were already wrapped around his finger. You shook your head and looked at your boss "he's mistaken me for someone else." "Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje," Helmut said with a smirk before he was pulled away by a member of the Dora Milaje, leaving you with a wink.

-malo jagnje - мало јагње - little lamb -jagnje - јагње - lamb -moj voljeni? - мој вољени - my beloved -омега - omega -izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo - изгледаш прелепо као оног дана кад сам те погледао, јагње мало - you look as beautiful as the day I laid eyes on you, little lamb -Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje - Једва чекам да стигнем, јагње - I can't wait to catch up, lamb

#Baron Zemo #Baron Helmut Zemo #Helmut Zemo #Alpha!Helmut Zemo #Alpha!Zemo Smut #Helmut Zemo smut #Zemo Smut #TFATWS #It's 5 am and honestly #This might not last 24 hours #Imma head out tho #TW: Dubcon #TW: NonCon #TW: Dubious Consent #TW: Nonconsent

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sky-berrie · 3 years

Text

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #batboys imagine #batboys #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #robinchicklets

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The General (part 4): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: escape sounds good. but is it better than staying?

wc: 2.6k

tw: sexual assault and death

a/n: please don’t kill me. This is plot. No smut to be found quite yet. I’m really trying to save up my smut cards for something really big lol

masterlist

Everything is on fire. Everyone is running around you, because for some reason, you’re walking toward the flames. Screams echo in your ears and the feeling of something tugging you into the burning building that looked like your home is too strong to ignore. When you push the door to your house open, your mother is hovering over your father, who is bleeding out as you watch in horror. When your mother looks up at you, she’s crying fat tears of sorrow, then she whispers:

“You did this, y/n. You let that monster into our town, and now look at what you’ve done.”

A hand smooths over your face as you twist and turn, but you don’t realize it’s the General until you open your eyes, the light from the moon blocked by his body. “You’re okay. Don’t worry; no one’s going to hurt you here,” he whispers, despite having hurt you before. You push his hand away and sit up, clutching your knees to your chest as you catch your breath. “Nightmare?” he asks, and for a second, you’re wondering if he’s saying that he had a nightmare. But then you feel the sweat around the nape of your neck and on your chest, and remember the feeling of helplessness you just emerged from. You nod, looking around the tent at the table, papers, the ink, the discarded haori near the seat…

“You’re up late,” you mention - trying to change the subject - and the General huffs a laugh, pushing back his hair like he always did before he launched into an explanation. Why didn’t he just tie it up?

“I do my best work right before the midnight hours. You’d be surprised at the formations I can create with just a hint of alertness left in my body.” He turns back to you, touching your foot with a broad hand. “Do you want to talk about your dream?”

“No,” you answer quickly, hoping he would drop the subject.

“Then let me have Kaori fetch you some water for a bath. I would hate for you to remain as sweaty as you are.” You slide off the bed, walking around to the little desk area that held stacks of papers and diagrams and sliding one free from the stack.

“You draw maps?”

“Cartographers are not cheap, little one. I’ve canvassed a massive effort to make a map of every place I’ve been to… Nanami is very helpful with this, as well. He’s so attentive to details that I might have missed, so I rely on his help more often than not.”

“And Haibara?”

“Yu? He’s pretty easy to get along with as well. He’s my mentee, if you really consider it. If I have no children, he will inherit the throne after me.”

“What about Gojo?” you question, sliding a map of the surrounding area forward and examining it carefully. As he drones on about the blue eyed man, you make sure your eyes cover every inch of the map and memorize the routes in and out of the camp. If you could just find a way to get over to the edge of the camp, you could easily hitch a ride back to your hometown and tell everyone about the General’s whereabouts. And expose Yuko for the traitor he is.

“But do you enjoy your time with Kaori? I purposefully made her the head of maids so she would tend to you and you alone.”

“Ah,” you push the map away and smile up at Geto, having finally found your escape route. “She’s lovely.”

And Kaori would be even more lovely once she helped you with your plan to run away.

_______________________________________________________________________

“How do you feel today?” Kaori wonders as you dress in your standard blue kimono.

“Quite well,” you answer, smiling back at her. She raises a brow, a grin forming on her lips.

“Might this have anything to do with Master Geto?”

You look back at the maid, and give her your best fake grin. “Maybe.” Kaori hums in surprise, then gathers her things up before leaving you alone again. “Oh, I almost forgot,” you begin, tying the kimono closed. “Could you bring me an extra pear or two with lunch today? I have a craving for them right now.” Kaori nods and bows slightly before walking out of the tent.

Map? Check.

Clothes? Check.

Extra food? Check.

The entire morning is spent pouring over the map, tracking your path in and out of the compound. You would have to walk a considerable distance, but it was perfectly fine. If you could manage to secure a horse, you’d probably get halfway home before anyone noticed you were missing, and that was a considerable head start.

Your plan went into effect as soon as they announced dinner, and you wait patiently for Geto to come fetch you for the evening meal, laying in his bed with a pained expression. When he comes inside, he sees you clutching your stomach and hanging over the side of the bed a little.

“Are you unwell?” he asks immediately, stooping by the bedside and smoothing your hair away from your face. You shake your head slowly, all of it an act, and he grumbles something about ‘knowing the food was undercooked at lunch’. Little did he know that you had stowed it away, along with a spare kimono of his and rudimentary copy of the map.

You fake a cough for emphasis, and his hands fly to your face, patting the tender flesh of your cheeks and forehead. “You’re warm. I’ll have Kaori come and attend to-”

“I don’t want her to catch what I have,” you moan, rolling over on your left side.

“You shouldn’t be alone like this,” Geto urges, eyes frantically looking around the tent space for something. “I’ll… I’ll eat dinner here, then. I’ll stay with you.” You shake your head weakly, ignoring his panicked expression.

“I can’t bear the smell of food right now… I just need some rest.”

“And you shall have it,” Geto whispers, placing a tender kiss on your left hand. “I’ll be back within the hour to check on you.” And with that, he leaves you in the tent. When you suspect that he - and as a result, his friends - are all gone to eat, you slide out of the bed and retrieve your sack of things hidden underneath it.

It isn’t escaping the camp that’s hard.

It’s running through the dead of night with only a sliver of moon to guide you that is most difficult.

Without the daylight, you could easily mistake a patch of trees for a forest and river for a ravine. But it doesn’t matter. Your father had taught you how to tell the North from the South and the East from the West, and you relied on those skills now to guide you out of the camp. First, you have to locate the brightest star in the sky and just follow it to get on the right path. If it is directly overhead, you’d be on your way to determining which way to go. The makeshift map you have is telling you that you should wander northeast to get out of the confines of the camp, and you would be well on your way to your hometown.

Except…

You look back at the lights dotted around the camp behind you.

What if you stayed? What if you stayed and made friends with the General? What if you stayed, made friends with the General, and then lured him in with a false sense of security? You adjust the sack on your back and think for a moment more.

He had let you remain in the tent by yourself. Not only was it a sign that he was finally beginning to trust you while you were alone, but also while you had all of the opportunity to escape, like you were now. Either that, or he’s more than confident that he would be able to find you and drag you back so he could execute his plan properly.

The only thing that would come from you attempting to run away would be a chase, and you would more than likely be caught without a horse. Then, Geto would not hesitate to discipline you and make you submit to his will, and possibly never trust you again.

“Flattery is the best persuader of people,” your father used to murmur, but you didn’t believe it back then; rolling your eyes at his old sayings. But now… perhaps you could work this to your advantage by staying.

You trek back with the pack, dumping everything except the kimono nearby to avoid any suspicion. The kimono is placed back where it had been before, and you slump onto the bed - facing away from the tent opening - groaning with exhaustion and anxiety.

The General returns what feels like a few minutes later and runs a hand down your back with care, humming in the darkness. He’s unsteady on his feet, it sounds like, and he anchors himself on the bed with one knee, leaning over you to brush a lock of hair away from your face.

“If there’s one thing I know about Yuko,” he breathes, words tumbling out of his mouth like a bucket of apples. “He didn’t lie about beauty or character.” Geto slides in next you, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively and nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He places a kiss below your earlobe, then almost instantly afterward, he’s asleep.

And although you want to squirm out of his arms and give him what-for, you don’t. The resolve in your new plan has set you on a path of compromise, and you would see this through until the end.

_______________________________________________________________________

Lips. They’re everywhere. On your face, trailing down your neck and accompanied by touches that stoke the flames of a fire you didn’t realize you had burning inside of you.

When your eyes flutter open, it’s still night, but the General has let the wine go to his head. You let out an involuntary moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping the skin underneath your kimono before you snatch yourself out of his grasp, tumbling to the floor below and remembering how much you hated him.

“Y/n… are you..” he hiccups a little. “Are you alright?” You push off of the ground in a fury, dusting yourself off and facing away from him as you yell:

“How dare you go back on your promise to not defile me, you filthy swine! Touching me in my sleep is low for even you, Your Majesty!” You spit the last two words at him, then stomp towards the flaps of the tent, which open with a flutter before you can get to them.

Geto steps inside, his eyes meeting yours in a confused stare.

“I heard you yelling and I--” He looks over your shoulder and frowns, squinting his eyes at the figure in the bed. “Get up.” When the man stumbles to the floor, Geto pulls you in behind him, shielding you from who really occupied the bed.

“M-Master Geto, I can expla--”

“Silence.” The deep bass of the General’s voice is unmatched, deadly, and practically telling of the punishment to come. Haibara and Gojo walk past you into the tent behind Geto, making lanterns glow and illuminate the tent space. “Do you know this man?” Geto roars, pointing an accusing finger at the offender as he turns to you, throwing daggers with his eyes. You look at the soon-to-be dead man, nostrils flaring. But you don’t recognize his face, nor his body. Nothing about this person is familiar.

“No, sir,” you state, and Geto starts a little at the sound of the formality falling from your lips.

“Has he touched you in any way?” Your skin is crawling with what feels like a thousand little bugs, and you clutch your elbows instinctively. In one smooth motion, Geto turns to Gojo, who nods his head once and grabs the man’s hair, dragging him past you and Haibara as his screams of pain echo into the night. You feel two hands resting on your shoulders as you stare at the tent flaps, the fluttering of them barely revealing the man’s fate. It’s only when the screaming stops that you turn to Geto. “Are you hurt?” he asks, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes with his piercing black ones.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Where did he touch you?” You look over to Haibara, and Geto does as well, before waving the youth off. “Make sure Gojo takes care of…”

“Of course,” Haibara replies, and with a sad smile thrown your way, he departs. Geto turns his attention back to you, taking your wrists in his hands.

“Show me.” You move a hand across your chest and down your right thigh, grazing the spot where the man had grabbed you roughly. Then you swipe at your neck and face. “My gods,” he breathes before pulling you close. Tears threaten to leak out of your eyes, but you hold them at bay, trying to maintain the hysterics for later when you were alone. “I should have stayed.”

“I should have let you.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You awake enveloped in Geto’s warmth, unsure of when you fell asleep for the second time, but thankful for the body heat that wards off the night-time chill. When you move away from him, he does not awaken, but does stir a little.

And that’s when you see it. The dragon on his arm is moving it’s head back and forth, eyes blinking lazily. At first you think you’re hallucinating, but when you rub your eyes and peer closer, it’s still moving; the entirety of its body doing a little dance side to side.

“You should see it after a battle,” Geto murmurs sleepily, eyes trained on your astonished face. “Dancing is just how it wakes itself up.” You stare at the mythical being in silence, unsure of whether the true beast was the man before you or the tattoo on his arm. “How are you feeling?” Geto finally breaks the silence, sitting up and pushing himself out of the bed.

“I feel alright.” He takes your hand, lifting it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back. You pause, unsure of how to respond to such a gesture, but Geto keeps moving around the tent, adjusting the sheets and running his hands through his hair.

“Have you ever thought about braiding it?” you wonder, and Geto looks over at you with an amused look.

“I have; but no one here is skilled enough to braid - not even Kaori.”

Wordlessly, you trek over to him and thread the locks of hair through your fingers.

“How do you keep it so clean when you’re on the battlefield?” you wonder aloud, and Geto chuckles.

“Water is a resource that I take full advantage of, little one.” He instinctively stops his movements and angles his head back so you can work the strands one over the other, finally ending the long braid with a simple strip of fabric from the edge of your kimono.

“There.” Geto pulls the braid over his shoulder and examines it carefully, humming at the sight of your handiwork.

“This is interesting, to say the least.”

“It will keep things from getting caught in your hair, and I’m sure it feels much less ‘all over the place’.”

“Indeed, it does,” he breathes, then reaches a hand out to touch your cheek affectionately. Without thinking, you lean into his touch, and after taking half a step forward, Geto places a kiss on your forehead. After this signal of affection, he leaves, making you wonder what was wrong with your face and if you actually had a fever - because your cheeks felt hotter than they had ever felt before.

#geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk gojo #jjk haibara

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starshine583 · 3 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (10)

(New update coming in and things are getting heated!!! I wonder how our lovely little group’s gonna handle it??)

Ch.1 / Ch.9 / Ch. 11

Chapter 10: Adrenaline Rush

Possible Schools:

Rosemary High

Skyline Academy

Angelwood Institute

Liberty High

Summerfield Academy

Clearwater Institute

A sigh passed through Adrien’s lips as he crossed out the last name on his list, matching it with the other failed attempts. He just didn’t understand. Why was it so hard to find Marinette’s school? All he needed to do was search for high schools in the area and ask the students at each school whether she attended or not. It seemed simple enough at the time, but now another week and a half has gone by, and he’s no closer to finding her than he was two weeks ago when he asked for her school name as Chat Noir.

Adrien set his pencil down and rubbed a hand over his face. He could have sworn she said ‘Rosemary’ last time they talked, but that blonde guy insisted that there weren’t any new students there. Maybe he just hadn’t met her yet? No, that didn’t make any sense. School had already started by then. Adrien assumed the guy would notice if he suddenly had a new classmate.

Ugh. If only he could visit her again.. Between patrol with his lady, akuma attacks, homework, and photoshoots, going out as Chat Noir to see Marinette was nearly impossible. He really needed to have a talk with Nathalie about getting more free time.

“Alya, Marinette is killing me!”

Adrien glanced up from his paper- That’s right, he’s supposed to be working on his own school right now -just in time to see Lila wiping fake tears from her eyes as she walked into the classroom. Although they still had a good five or ten minutes before class started, she was the only who wasn’t currently seated at her desk, and judging by her greeting, Adrien was going to assume that she entered last on purpose.

“What!” Alya gasped, standing up from her desk to meet Lila halfway. “What did she do now?”

Lila sniffed and accepted the comforting hug that Alya offered. “She’s been sending me awful messages all week! Telling me she hates me and insulting me and that I should’ve just stayed in Italy where I belonged.”

Adrien shifted in his seat to hear the conversation better, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Another scheme to slander Marinette’s good name.. Why did Lila still feel the need to lie about her? The ravenette was gone, completely transferred to another school, too far to even breath about Lila’s fabrications. There was no reason to turn their classmates further against her. (if that was even possible at this point)

“She told you what?!” Alya blanched, pulling back to grab Lila’s shoulders. “I can’t believe her! wasn’t sabotaging the forms you needed to be class president enough? Why can’t she leave you alone!”

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Now that lie had a reason to it. He knew first hand how thick those stacks of forms can be since he’s helped Marinette carry them a few times, and Lila was obviously too lazy or too unqualified (or both) to sift through all of that mess by herself. What Adrien didn’t understand about the lie, though, was why she had to drag Marinette into it. Again. Why not lie about feeling unwell? Or simply ask for time to adjust to the role that had practically been dumped onto her? Any of those excuses would not only have been easier to say, as they didn’t involve anyone but herself, but they probably would have been accepted just as wholly. So why? It was as though Marinette became a crutch for Lila, which he supposed made sense. Building onto a widely accepted lie would be much simpler than creating a million small lies, but it certainly came with a risk. For example, if Adrien were to, say, kick that crutch right out from under her, she would probably flounder around on the floor with no way to get back up again.

This left Adrien with another important question: How was he going to do it? So far, his friends have been sticking to her like glue and taking in her words like they were given directly from the Bible. On top of that, Alya seems to have become Lila’s official guard dog. How was he supposed to work around that? Adrien couldn’t confront the brunette publicly, because Marinette was proof that that never ended well, and confronting Lila privately didn’t help either, because she would only blow him off again. No, he needed to focus on outing her to his classmates directly, but he also needed to be subtle about it. Which meant..

Which meant he’d have to beat her at her own game.

“That’s crazy!” Adrien piped up, plastering on a surprised and disgusted expression. “Can I see the texts?”

Lila and Alya turned to him, both equally shocked by his comment. He normally kept to himself during conversations about Marinette.

“Oh..” Lila blinked, gathering her thoughts. “I mean, of course! It’s just that.. they’re quite personal, you know.. She said some things that were close to home..”

“We completely understand.” Alya assured.

“Completely,” Adrien agreed, “which is why I want to see how bad it is. Those texts can be considered harassment if you don’t feel safe.”

Alya frowned at him, but a spark arose in Lila’s eyes, one that was no doubt fueled by the thought of getting Marinette into trouble with the law. Adrien would never understand the hatred that Lila harbored for the ravenette, but he definitely knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble!” The brunette said with feigned concern. “But.. if you think it will help..”

She made a show of tentatively pulling out her phone and handing it to Adrien. He wasted no time snatching it from her hands and pulling up the texting app. If she was giving him the phone, she most likely had a series of fake texts to back up her story. (and they would be fake. Marinette was too nice to outwardly insult or bully others. Besides, she wouldn’t have the time even if she wanted to, what with her new school, homework, and fashion designs that she needed to tend to.)

Sure enough, he found messages upon messages of insults under the contact name “Marinette”. Things like “You’re only a model because of Gabriel’s pity and charity programs”, “You made our school’s reputation so pathetic that I had to leave”, and “They’ll find out soon that you’re too stupid to be a decent class rep.” were only the tip of the iceberg. Adrien noted the fact that there weren’t any comments about Lila’s looks specifically- she probably couldn’t think of any insults like that herself, since she was obviously so fashionable -but other than, the texts appeared to be authentic.

That is, except for the phone number.

Adrien slid further into his desk and pulled out his own phone to unlock it. A swift comparison between the two contacts proved not only that they had different phone numbers for Marinette, but that the phone number used for the harassing texts was actually the phone number that Adrien had for Lila. She must have texted herself, then deleted the doubles to make it look like a regular conversation between two people. Adrien had to hand it to her, it was a clever set-up.

But not clever enough.

“Wow, this is awful.” Adrien declared, ensuring that both girls along with a few of their other classmates could hear him. “I’m going to text Marinette about this right now. Do you mind if I copy the number from your phone to text her, though? Some of my contacts got deleted a while back.”

Lila’s eyes widened, and panic briefly flickered across her features.

“O-Oh, um- you really don’t have to do that-” She tried to say as she reached for her phone.

Adrien pulled it back up with a smile. “Oh, but I want to! We can’t let Marinette get away with things like this.”

“Yeah, he’s right!” Alya eagerly agreed. “Let him talk to her. That should really pack a punch for Marinette.”

Although the comment was a bit odd, Adrien nodded along, because as long as Alya was on his side, this plan should work perfectly.

“I’m typing in the number to call right now.” He announced, quickly punching in each digit. His only regret in that moment was that he couldn’t see Lila’s expression as he got closer to ‘accidentally’ outing her. However, the sheer panic in her voice was still enough to make his smile widen to a grin.

“No, you can’t!” She nearly shrieked, lunging over Adrien for her phone. If the class’ eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely were now.

“Don’t worry, Lila.” Adrien said innocently as he pressed ‘call’ on the number. “I won’t tell her that you gave me her number.”

As expected, Lila’s phone immediately began to ring. He watched as the blood drained from her features, and she scrambled to turn off the device before it could finish the first ring. It was a decent move, in his opinion, but that didn’t stop the class from staring at her with a mix of surprise, suspicion, and curiosity.

“What was that?” Alya asked, leaning forward to help Lila get off of Adrien, “Was your phone ringing?”

“No, no! It was- uhm -” Lila let out a nervous, little laugh. It’d been so long since she had to fight for her lies to stick that she must have forgotten how to lie on the spot. What a shame.

“That was just a small sound my phone makes when it turns off.” She blurted out. “I must have forgotten to charge it last night.”

Adrien pressed “end” on his call- because obviously he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lila’s phone off -and glanced around the classroom to gauge their reactions. Those closest to the conversation were warily watching the scene unfold with furrowed eyebrows, doubt clear on their expressions. The farther ones, however, nodded along with what Lila was saying. They probably hadn’t heard most of the conversation beforehand and therefore had no reason to question her.

“Oh,” Alya said, accepting the bullcrap answer as always, “that’s not good. Do you want to use my charger in case you need your phone later?”

Lila offered a sweet smile, stray bits of her confidence floating back to her due to Alya’s reassurance. “Ah, I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you or anythi-”

A soft rumbling shook the ground, causing the Italian girl to trail off. Adrien turned to the window, his breath catching in his throat as his thumb instinctively brushed over his ring. Was now really the best time?

In the distance, a cloud of dust was rising into the air. He’d seen enough- and done enough -to know that only the mass destruction of buildings could create such a cloud, and the mayor hadn’t informed them of any pre-planned constructions.

“Yes!” Alya cheered, leaping down the classroom steps. Leave it to her to be the only one excited about another akuma attack. “Finally! It feels like we haven’t had an akuma in weeks!”

“Alya, wait!” Nino called after her. He always hated her little escapades.

“Don’t worry,” Adrien said as he stood up, “I’ll take care of her.”

Right after I take care of the akuma.

~~~~~~~~

The little hands of Felix’s black wrist watch ticked away well past 12:30, reminding him of his frustrating failure to set a timer for their lunch period. How could he have forgotten? The notion had to be ingrained into his muscle memory by now. Get up, go to school, burn through the first few classes, set a timer to not waste time, and go to lunch. How did it slip his mind?

“I can’t believe I didn’t ask this sooner,” Allegra remarked as they exited the café, “but what happened to your guys’ faces? I’m pretty sure they weren’t that red before.”

Felix glanced towards Claude and Marinette, the excuse to his forgetfulness finally returning. He’d been in the middle of setting the alarm when he saw their tomato-colored faces in front of the Chemistry lab. The sight must have been enough to throw away all thoughts of setting his alarm as he asked what happened. Nevertheless, Felix still had time to copy down some notes before his next class, and that would suit him just fine for today.

“Oh, man, how have I not told you yet?” Claude snorted. “It was hilarious!”

Marinette let out a light, yet playful scoff next to him. “Define ‘hilarious’.”

The group shared a small chuckle, and Claude jumped into the story of how they- well, how he spilled their chemicals in class. It surely couldn’t have been as interesting as the brunette let on, but Claude always loved to be dramatic. He made voices for Marinette’s comments- which she jokingly took offence towards due to the unrealistically high pitch -and flailed his arms about while explaining how he poured the chemicals into a bag and mixed them. Claude even made a point to throw out his arms while mimicking the sound of an explosion when he got to the part of the story where the chemicals overflowed.

One of those arms happened to smack Felix in the shoulder, which easily brought a glare out of the blonde. If Claude was this energetic now, there was no telling how bad he was going to be during Allegra’s sleepover. In fact, the whole group was probably going to go overboard. Something about sleepovers tended to bring out the most outgoing side of a person, which was why Felix loathed them. He had to sit there and listen to everyone snort and laugh and be loud the entire evening without the comfort that he might be able to leave within an hour or two. It was torture, simply put.

And yet, he decided to go. All for the ludicrous thought that he might be able to ask Marinette more questions about her relations to Agreste and her old school once- or if -the night provided them a moment of privacy. The motivation itself was outright foolish if he were honest with himself. Even if he did acquire a “decent moment” to bring up the subject, she would most likely be uncomfortable talking about it, and dragging a person through the past that they’re deliberately trying to run from isn’t pleasant for anyone involved. That’s why he’s refrained from asking about it again so far.

Felix needed to find some other way to sedate his curiosity towards her. He did.. But how else was he going to find out why an aspiring fashion designer would run from the supposed affections of a top designer’s son? Felix guessed that it might be something like sexual harassment or another, equally disgusting treachery, but then what about the chest of gifts? Where her affections for the model had been clear? What type of fallout must one have with another person to risk their entire dream career just to escape them?

Felix shook his head slightly to push the thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t going to barrage Marinette with question after question just to stop his mind from constantly turning when it probably wouldn’t stop anyway. Marinette was Marinette. A classmate of his that was kind, clumsy yet capable, overly-generous, determined, weirdly strong for someone of her stature, and a mystery in more ways than one when it came to the life she lived. That was going to have to be enough for him.

“You should have seen it, Allegra.” Claude said with a grin, pulling Felix back to the present. He’d somewhat forgotten that the brunette was even talking.

“It was like the whole bag of Phenol Red just went-”

A large crash erupted to the left of them, followed by a strong gust of wind that pushed them all off of their feet. Felix hit the pavement with a grunt, and Marinette landed on top of him a second later, sucking the rest of the air from his lungs. Screams pierced the air, disorienting him further- why were they screaming? What made the crash? How did it create enough wind to knock them over? -but Marinette sat up immediately. She turned to the source of the crash, tense and ready, as though she already knew what they were dealing with, and Felix couldn’t be more confused. Why did she look like she was about to fight something? (And why did he feel like she would win?)

“Do not be afraid!” A voice yelled over the crowds, drawing Felix’s gaze to a woman standing a few yards away from them. She was dressed in dark and light blues, save for her white elbow-length cloak and her white skirt that appeared to be split into several different pieces of cloth. “I’ve come to help! Not just you, but the world!”

Felix’s eyes widened, an entirely new form of terror taking hold of his body. This wasn’t.. This couldn’t be an akuma, right? She looked different than the ones he’d seen on the news, more human. If it weren’t for her white and dark blue mask and the large fan in her hands that seemed to be controlling the wind, he would have thought that she was a normal civilian merely passing by.

“Our planets have been spoiled by the bigger companies for too long!” The woman continued, even though people ran as she spoke. “It’s time we take matters into our own hands!”

His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to move, but he couldn’t. His entire being was cemented to the spot in fear of what might happen next. What if this akuma was dangerous? What if her powers possessed people like that Pharaoh themed villain? Or completely killed them like Stoneheart or TimeTagger? Were they going to be her first victims? What if it-

A harsh tug interrupted his reeling thoughts, and suddenly, Felix was back on his feet and running. Running behind Marinette who was pulling them to safety.

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!” She quietly called over her shoulder. “Let’s hide behind the wooden fence while she’s distracted.”

Felix had enough sense to look ahead of them, where a small, wooden fence that held the cafe’s menu was placed. It wasn’t hard to notice under normal circumstances, but how did Marinette think of hiding there while the akuma was right behind them? How was she not paralyzed by the very idea of being caught?

“I’m going to destroy some stores around here, but only to get the heroes’ attention!” The akuma explained as the group scrambled passed the fence and pressed their backs against the wood. “Once I have the miraculous, I will restore everything to its rightful place, I promise!”

Felix tried to slow his rapid, shallow breaths as he sank further against the fence. She was going to destroy buildings? How many? Were they going to get hit with the debris? Where were the heroes that he’d heard so much about? Shouldn’t they be doing something about all of this?

“What do we do?” Claude whispered, panic clear in his tone as well. None of them had ever seen an akuma attack before. Well, none of them except Allan, but he’d been watching through a store window a safe distance away.

“Should we call the police?” Allegra nearly squeaked, tentatively reaching for her bag to pull out her phone. “They help with stuff like this too, right?”

“No need.” Marinette said. She was on the left side of Felix now, staying close to the edge of the fence and carefully peeking around it. “The police have akuma alerts on their phones to tell them when attacks happen. They're already on their way, I’m sure.”

Felix stared down at her with furrowed eyebrows, completely baffled by the lack of panic in her demeanor. This was the same girl who stumbled and stuttered to ask him for a pencil during class! Yet here she was, taking charge and giving orders and speaking perfectly. It was like she was a completely different person! How was that even possible?

“Alright,” The ravenette spoke, turning back to them with a deathly serious gaze, “I’m going to run out and get her attention. While I’m doing that, you guys need to run as far away from here as you can and find a good basement to hide in until this is over.”

“What?” The group practically gasped in unison. She wanted to face the akuma alone?!

“Marinette, you’re not going anywhere!” Allegra insisted. “It’s not safe out there!”

“It’s less safe if we stay here.” She replied, moving to step out into the open.

Felix grabbed her wrist to yank her back. What was happening right now?

“Are you insane?” He hissed unintentionally. “You can’t go out there! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Yeah, she’s not after us.” Allan agreed. “Only the buildings. Let’s just all run out of here together.”

Marinette glanced back at the group. “But there are still people in those buildings. I need to lure her to an empty street or at least stall until the heroes get here. If I don’t, people are definitely going to get hurt or worse.”

Felix’s grip on Marinette’s wrist tightened. He hadn’t thought about the crowds of people who were running inside for cover, but even so, what would she be able to do alone? The akuma was a powerful being, and they were merely civilians in the crossfire. What’s stopping it from crushing Marinette beneath its boot at the slightest whim? Who’s to say the akuma would even listen to Marinette if she did get its attention?

“We’re not letting you sacrifice yourself for an extra second of time.” He told her. “Like you said, the police are on their way, which means the heroes will be here soon too. Let them handle it.”

A strange mix of urgency and frustration flickered across her features, and she tugged against his grip. “Felix, please, we don’t have time to argue-”

“I think I’ll start with this darling café.” The akuma crooned. “That should get some attention.”

The café walls crumbling apart was Felix’s only warning before the gust of wind made it to their little hide-out. It splintered the wood within seconds, and the group went flying, once again, into the pavement.

Felix groaned as he pushed himself to his knees. How many times were they going to get thrown around? At least Marinette didn’t land on him this time.

Marinette.

The realization that Marinette was no longer with him washed over Felix like a bucket of ice cold water, and his gaze snapped upwards. He started to yell for her, but it was too late. Marinette was already on her feet, somehow recovering faster than all of them, and running towards the akuma head on. He could only watch in abject horror as she called out to it.

“Hey, airhead!” She yelled. “Do you really think this is the smartest plan?”

The akuma rounded on Marinette in an instant, and Felix sucked in a breath. No, no, no, no, what was she doing?

“My name is ‘Whirlwind’, thank you very much,” The woman snapped, “and I think it’s a brilliant plan. Do you think you can do something better?”

“Of course.” Marinette replied, crossing her arms. “If you’re already destroying buildings, why not go and destroy the big companies that you’re after in the first place? It’d be much more productive, don’t you think?”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. Didn’t she say that she wanted to avoid public places?

Whirlwind hummed. “Well, yes, but with all of the major hotels and tourist spots, it’s hard to tell which buildings to destroy, and I don’t have time to look.”

“I’ll show you where they are.” Marinette offered. “Think about it, destroying a big, company building is sure to attract more attention than taking down a little café, right?”

Whirlwind narrowed her eyes as she thought it over, and a part of Felix desperately hoped that she would decline Marinette’s suggestion. A bigger part of him prayed that the police or the heroes or somebody showed up to stop this before Marinette went too far.

“Alright.” Whirlwind smiled. “I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to see someone else interested in saving the environment.”

With a flick of her fan, Whirlwind gathered a gust of wind around Marinette, causing the ravenette to rise into the air. She then gave herself a gust of wind, which caused her white skirt to start spinning around her. If Felix wasn’t going pale with dread over what might happen to his classmate, he would have found the unique fashion choice to be humorous, as it almost reminded him of a box fan.

Allegra let out a horrified shriek, one that rattled Felix to his bones. This was really happening. Marinette was really being carried off by some maniac in a costume. What were they going to do? What could they do? Gosh, where were the heroes?

Felix grit his teeth and forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t just stand there and watch her be kidnapped or he’d never be able to look her in the eyes afterwards.

That’s right, he told himself. The heroes were going to win, and she was going to be just fine.

Those thoughts didn’t stop him from sprinting after the akuma, though, even as the trio called after him to stop, even as the akuma rose higher into the air, out of his reach. Marinette couldn’t do this by herself, and although Felix’s presence probably wouldn’t make much of a difference either, he’d be darned if he didn’t try to help.

“Don’t worry,” He huffed, comforting himself more than her as he darted through alleyways to keep up with them, “I’m right behind you.”

Tag list: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx

#felinette #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids #Marinette #Felix Culpa #New Girl on the Block

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baepop · 4 years

Text

Written in the Stars

You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

Word Count: 26.2k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Taehyung

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Pining, Soulmate Au, Plot based around supernatural dreams

A/N: Back again with another love triangle. Are you even surprised? I wanted to write this story after finding out Jungkook really liked the movie “Your Name”

Jungkook has always been a true romantic, a believer in kismet and fate, convinced there is only one person out there in the world made specifically for you.

You might attribute these beliefs to his obsession with dramatic anime movies, the fluffy K-dramas he binges, or to simply watching his own parents happily grow old together. But the truth was that he had an actual reason to believe the way that he did. What one might mistake for blind faith, the boy ascertained to be proven conviction, scientific even.

The fact of the matter was that he had concrete proof of this widely speculated notion being as real as he was.

His ascertations started at quite a young age, when the little boy with the scar on his cheek asked his mother a very complicated question in the kitchen. His brothers and father had already cleared out, leaving his mother to pick up after them. The little boy dutifully brought her the soiled dishes from the table into the kitchen, restating his question matter-o-factly when she stared at him in bewilderment. Mrs. Jeon stared at her youngest son of nine, her mind racing as to the possible reasons for his inquiry.

“Mom?” The boy tipped his head to the side, letting his buoyant hair fall to the side.

“I…why do you ask?” She posed her question as gently as possible so as not to scare him away. He was quite shy, so the last thing she wanted was to make him feel like he couldn’t confide in her.

But he simply shrugged, his large innocent eyes reflecting her confused expression within them. Of course, there wasn’t an ulterior motive to this question. What could he possibly know about true love?

The older woman smiled, putting on her dish washing gloves as she took the plates out of his hands.

She sighed, contemplating dreamily as she recalled her own romance with his father. “How to know when you’re in love? Well…it’s not really something you know, but rather something you feel. It’s a natural feeling, as natural as being hungry or just realizing you like something.”

Jungkook thought for a minute before responding, “Then what does it feel like?”

“Hmm…you know when it’s cold, so I throw your blanket in the dryer for a few minutes before tucking you in, and you’re warm and comfortable before you drift to sleep?” The boy smiled and nodded enthusiastically. It was his most favorite thing in the world. “It feels like that, but emotionally.”

“Emotionally?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, unable to conceptualize being wrapped in a warm blanket in such an abstract way.

“Yes,” The woman gently poked the child’s chest where his heart would be. His gaze followed her finger before she began tickling his sides which earned a fit of laughter from the boy who shied away from her touch. She ruffled his head and ordered him to get the rest of the dishes from the table. He quickly obliged, but not before answering one last question.

“Jungkook! Do you…have a girlfriend at school?” The boy shook his head innocently before disappearing into the hall. She smiled to herself, wondering if he was telling the truth or if he just wanted to keep it a secret from his mother. She knew Jungkook wasn’t a secretive kind of kid, but she could still understand him not wanting to share things like that with his mom. She made a mental note to ask his father about it before bed.

What she didn’t know, however, was that this conversation would have more of an impact on the boy than she’d ever imagined.

Jungkook was experiencing something he never had before, something so out of the ordinary that he couldn’t ask anyone for advice about it for fear of sounding absolutely crazy. He could only try and get advice by asking out-of-the-blue questions to his mother because he knew she wouldn’t pry.

He had started dreaming of you, every single night, and he didn’t know what to make of it at first.

The dreams were mundane, ordinary slice-of-life reels of a foreign girl similar in age to him. For many hours of your day, he’d watch you wake up and get ready for school just as he would, going throughout your day, talking to friends and doing schoolwork. Then you’d come home and spend time with your sisters, play with your cat and watch anime or other things girls his age might do. None of it thrilled him in the least, and if he was being honest, it freaked him out, especially because he didn’t know who the heck you were.

He wasn’t yet at the age where girls were particularly interesting to him. None he knew liked video games or looking at bugs and therefore the female gender was unappealing to his boyish heart.

It was frustrating when he couldn’t seem to convince his brain that he didn’t want to dream of you anymore. Night after night, he’d be forced to watch your life as someone in a secret audience, much to his annoyance.

It wasn’t until you’d entered middle school and started getting bullied that his dreams began to impact him deeply. He’d always remember your first day at school when that mean older girl pulled on your buns and told you how ugly you were, and the way you pretended it didn’t hurt you until you got home and cried on your bed for hours. He’d felt so powerless, unable to help or even talk to this person he seemed to know intimate details about for so long. It was then that he realized his attachment to you for the first time.

Jungkook was always pretty popular at school, so he’d never had to worry about being bullied by anyone. And thanks to you, his popularity only seemed to increase over the years when Jungkook made it a point to stand up against bullies on behalf of others. After watching your struggle at school, he knew how deeply someone’s words and actions could affect others, and he didn’t want anyone feeling the way you did, ever.

Thankfully, his qualms were lessened when you’d both gone into high school. You seemed to be having a better time there, quickly finding a group of people with similar tastes and ideals to yours. He’d found it ironic how your lives seemed to be on a balancing scale. Whenever he was having a hard time, he’d go to sleep at night and watch you having the time of your life. So, while high school was good to you, Jungkook struggled with his studies, earning disappointing grades that he’d fearfully bring home to his stern parents.

The truth was that he wasn’t much of the academic type. He always preferred to be out in the sunshine, playing with some kind of ball or dancing or making music. He loved doing the things that made him feel most alive, and sitting in a classroom answering tiresome questions simply wasn’t that.

You, however, excelled in school, so much so that you had already been taking advanced classes by your third year. It was becoming apparent to Jungkook that you and he were very different people, but it had been so long that he’d been keeping tabs on your life that it didn’t matter. It was weird, the way his thoughts seemed to drift to you and what you might be doing while he sat in class chewing on his pencil.

He knew everything about you and your family and your friends. He knew what your favorite colors were, what your favorite flavors were and what kind of genres you preferred the most. He even knew about the secret piercing you had gotten despite not telling a single soul about it. You had skipped school alone to get it done in a sketchy part of town, and then spent the rest of that week secretly caring for it from infection. It was the first time he’d felt he could relate to you, and he found the thought funny enough to snigger about during silent times in class.

But as time went by, Jungkook was having a hard time being okay with it all. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice when it came to dreaming about you, he just wanted to know why.

Why you? Why still? What did this all mean? Was this the universe’s way of keeping him grounded? A way to show him that even when he felt singled out, there were still people on the other side of the world going through similar situations? Or maybe this was a superpower that he didn’t know how to control? Jungkook had visited countless comic bookstores in the city, trying to find a story similar to his own, anything that might give him guidance or a nudge in the right direction. Was he psychic? He didn’t feel psychic exactly. He’d never been able to dream about anyone else let alone tap into anyone else’s thoughts or lives the way he had with you. If this was truly his superpower, he’d consider the universe to be a cruel entity, considering this wasn’t exactly what he meant when he wished he had special abilities as a little boy.

He tried to ignore the doubt sitting in the back of his mind, the thoughts that negated you being a real person. He’d thought about it before, about the possibility that he had completely made you up, even considered the possibility that he was mentally unwell, but whenever he’d dream about you, he’d feel it deep in his bones, the realness of it all. He knew you were real and out there in the world. He just knew.

Jungkook continued to question the purpose of his dreams and look out for signs throughout high school, which he eventually received in the form of an animated movie. The tale of star-crossed lovers being connected in such a supernaturally convoluted way yet still finding their way to each other in the end had affected him in ways he couldn’t describe. He thought back to his mother’s words, about feeling so warm and comfortable when it came to being with the person you were meant to be with.

Were you his soul mate? The idea intrigued him. He’d always thought of you as a comrade, someone he was sharing his life with in the strangest way possible. But it all felt one-sided, how was he to know you might have those strong feelings about him? Had you been dreaming about him too? These questions kept Jungkook up at night before he’d finally close his eyes and tune into the latest occurrences of your life.

In this instance, he’d watched you get taken to the parking lot by some douchebag in your school that he had already disliked since your freshman year. Jungkook had woken up that morning frazzled and disoriented after watching you accept his confession of love. It seemed when he was becoming comfortable with the idea of you being the one person meant for him, you had finally decided to start dating. And with that guy no less.

Jungkook wished he could come see you, to tell you not to give this guy a chance to break your heart, but he knew you wouldn’t listen to him. Because as weird as it would be for him to tell someone about his dreams, it would be weirdest of all to tell you about them, if you hadn’t been dreaming about him too. Besides, he wouldn’t even know how to get to you, he only owned a bus pass and didn’t have any money.

And thanks to your decision to start dating, what had turned into mildly entertaining dreams had become his own personal hell for the next year.

He’d try to stay up as late as possible so he only had to watch a little bit of your life before waking up for school in the morning, and it was starting to take a toll on him. He didn’t care though, he’d deal with being tired just so he didn’t have to watch you pretend to be happy while in a toxic relationship. When he’d witnessed the way you held back tears after your dick-head of a boyfriend made a comment about your weight, Jungkook decided to form a strike against his subconscious. The boy began staying up late playing video games well into the early hours of the morning before getting ready for school. His friends commented on the bags under his eyes, and his teachers casted worried glances in his direction when they’d see him dozing off in class, but nonetheless Jungkook persevered.

And thanks to his stubbornness to sleep at night, he discovered another clue about his supposed superpower: He could only dream of you at night. Whenever Jungkook would take a nap during the day to supplement his lack of nocturnal sleep, he didn’t dream of you. Ironically, it was the most rest he had gotten in years, and the realization only served to confuse him even more.

After some time had passed with him silently protesting your relationship, he had finally given in and went to bed at a reasonable hour, if only to make sure you were okay, because as much as he hated who you were with, he still cared about you.

Much to Jungkook’s surprise, a lot had occurred in the short span of time he had been staying away from you. You were dealing with a messy breakup while preparing for a huge trip abroad with your class. Jungkook watched eagerly, trying to get important details from the conversations you were having. You hardly confided in your parents or sisters about what was going on at school, but luckily you had been keeping a journal, so he was able to get the juicy details of your life as you wrote out your feelings. Apparently your now ex-boyfriend had threatened you, telling you not to go on your class trip to Korea or else he’d break up with— Korea!? Jungkook was so surprised he had almost managed to wake himself up. You were coming to his country?! Where exactly?! When?!

The boy no longer cared about the details of your breakup. He only cared about your coming to see him. Well, he knew you weren’t hopping on a plane to go see him, per se, but this still felt like Jungkook’s chance to finally meet you.

Jungkook woke up for school with a pep in his step. His cheerful demeanor freaked his friends out, but was too preoccupied to notice. He just wanted to go on with his day as quickly as possible so he could go to bed and learn more things about your trip.

Unfortunately, he had been saddened to realize you weren’t in the best place mentally as of late since dealing with the breakup. Your ex-boyfriend had started a malicious rumor about breaking up with you because you had an STD, which wasn’t true of course, but to high schoolers, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, the damage would still be done. You threw yourself into your studies again and kept to yourself, your trip abroad being the only thing you now looked forward to.

As the final week leading up to your trip came and went quickly, Jungkook prepared himself. He had decided to go see you, no matter how scared he was to introduce himself. He couldn’t let such an opportunity pass him by, he’d even sneak out of his house if he had to.

Jungkook was only able to gather that you would be visiting famous places with your class like the National Museum and the War Memorial, even making it a point to go to Lotte World, but he wasn’t able to get the specific details of your visit in order to be at the right place at the right time. Still, he ascertained that he’d be able to coordinate once you landed in Korea. He’d at least know where you were staying then.

But something peculiar happened yet again: Jungkook stopped dreaming about you the day you were set to depart to Korea. Jungkook went to bed that night eagerly, excited to see how you’d felt about flying for the first time and your general reactions to his favorite city ever.

When he’d woken up after hours of darkness, he was confused and disappointed, but not enough to bring his mood down. He felt a tingling sensation, a feeling of knowing deep in his bones that you were close to him. Even if he hadn’t dreamt about you, it didn’t mean you weren’t still here, and so Jungkook skipped school that day and rode public transportation to Seoul early in the day. His heart beat erratically the closer he got, the overwhelming feeling of kismet painting his world in rosy shades. He couldn’t believe he was finally going to see you, the person he had been dreaming about since he was a small child, in person.

Jungkook practiced what he’d say when he saw you. He wanted it to be perfect, but as he went over his lines in his head, it suddenly occurred to him that you didn’t speak Korean, and he certainly didn’t speak your native language. He thought back to his dreams, trying to recall how he was able to understand everything going on, but unable to explain it to himself. It was much like trying to explain the dreams themselves. He just knew what was going on. He knew how you felt about things, even when you weren’t verbose. He also knew how other people thought and felt around you despite not speaking the same language. He would be completely confused if he were there with you in person instead of dreaming about you, so it seemed that there were different rules when it came to his intrusive dreams.

This perplexed Jungkook even further. He didn’t know where exactly you were, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to talk to you. The boy scratched his head worriedly, wondering if what he was doing was silly, but he was now almost at the city. There was no turning back now.

Jungkook ascended the steps of the subway and took in a deep breath. The air was a lot cooler in the city, though not as fresh. He looked around at the bustling crowds of people, feeling a bit out of place in his school uniform. He began walking in the same direction as everyone else, only stopping to buy flowers from a street vendor along the way. He figured if he didn’t know what to say to you, a pretty flower might be able to say what he couldn’t.

He didn’t want to scare you off by coming on too strong. Still, he wanted to convey his feelings for you somehow, to show you that you two were fated somehow, even if neither of you knew why exactly.

Jungkook walked around aimlessly for hours. As his feet grew tired, he realized how silly it was to assume he might run into you just by being in the same city. Seoul was huge, and the odds of that were slim. Still, if the universe had bothered to present you to him for so long, then maybe it would lend him a helping hand right now, too.

He made his way to all of the places he knew your class would visit. He didn’t have any money to go in to some of them, so he waited around to see if you might show up. When you didn’t, he began feeling even sillier about the entire ordeal. As the late afternoon approached, he reluctantly caught the train back home, knowing it’d be best that he arrived home at the same time as usual so his parents wouldn’t suspect him of playing hooky.

He rode the train home dejectedly, but still hopeful to see what your day was like when he’d go to bed that night.

But unfortunately, only darkness awaited him again.

Jungkook awoke more confused than ever the next morning. What did this mean? Was he losing touch with you? It would be ironic, since you were now physically closer to him than ever before. Was he losing his super lame superpower all of a sudden? The thought freaked him out. His dreams had effectively become a part of him and his identity, not to mention, he’d basically grown up with you. To suddenly not know about you every night was to relearn how to be alone again, which he hadn’t been for almost a decade. Jungkook quickly shook the thought from his mind.

Since his school was quick to call parents for any little thing, he wasn’t able to continue skipping school to go into the city, but he knew you’d still be there in the weekend coming up, so he settled for trying to get his dreams to come back to him so he could find you.

But as each night came and went without a sign of you, Jungkook grew increasingly anxious. He was no closer to finding answers than he was to finding you, and the thought made him feel helpless. Worst of all, he felt as if his image of you was already fading, despite having seen you every night for years. He tried his hardest to recall all of your features, but they came up hazily. He’d been so shaken by the realization that he pulled out a sheet of paper in class and began trying to sketch you in the middle of class. He came out with a drawing of a faceless girl in a school uniform, despite his best efforts. The ambiguous drawing mocked him, so he balled it up angrily and tossed it into his bag, deciding that it meant nothing if he decided it so.

Just as he had no control over beginning to dream about you, he had no control over continuing to do so, he’d soon realized, and the whole thing felt like a cruel joke. Was this the universe’s plan? To get him invested in someone unreachable only to yank them away when he was so close to getting to them?

On Friday night, Jungkook went to bed with his weekend outfit folded neatly at the foot of his bed. He was determined to head out bright and early and spend the entire day in the city searching for you. And much to his surprise, there wasn’t any darkness waiting for him as he drifted off to sleep.

You were on an airplane, looking out of the window and watching the sunset. Your classmates were also on the plane already sleeping. It turned out that your trip had gotten cut short due to a funding mix up at your school. You were disappointed, but you had had so much fun the last few days, so you decided to focus on being grateful for having the experience at all. By the time you were getting close to landing, Jungkook had woken up.

He sat upright, tears flowing freely from the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t crying exactly, but he should’ve been. Instead, he immediately fetched a sketchpad and began drawing you. He dragged the thin lead across the page continuously, slowly forming the image of you looking out of the plane window. It was you, of that he was certain. And although he was momentarily relieved, he hated the way someone who didn’t even know who he was could have such control over his life.

He laid back down and allowed himself to feel the deep sadness that washed over him. He had decided to believe in his initial suspicions. It turned out that the universe had been just as cruel and fickle as he suspected it to be.

Jungkook spent the rest of his senior year processing his feelings of anger in different ways.

He’d returned to his strike, staying up at night and sleeping during the day. He no longer wanted to be invested in your life as much as he already was, especially if his knowing you from afar was destined to stay that way forever.

He wasn’t mad at anything or anyone in particular, though sometimes he hated you for not coming to find him, as irrational as that was. Sometimes he hated himself for not being more capable of finding you, sometimes he hated your school for not giving him enough time, sometimes he just hated the universe for making him into this plaything he considered himself to be.

As you focused on college applications, Jungkook began spending less time at home and more time exposing himself to the night life in Seoul. He knew he had no plans of pursuing a University degree despite his parents’ encouragement. So instead, he did whatever came to mind, especially if it was something dangerous or out of the norm. He convinced himself he was simply trying to find himself, but a small kernel of truth inside of him suggested he was being destructive on purpose, only wanting to pursue things that would suggest he wasn’t the same boy as he’d always been, that he wouldn’t bend to the universe’s rules on who he was and consequently who he should be with. That his dreaming of you wasn’t a huge part of who he was.

The five years that followed his high school graduation were a bit of a blur. He’d moved out at 19 and into a house full of 6 other boys that he’d met in the city. He’d gotten an overnight job, a shit ton of tattoos, and a dog since then.

Jungkook now spent his nights bartending at a trendy club in Hongdae and snoring the day away in his room. Even the nightly conquests he’d bring home reflected the kind of life he was now living, fast-paced and wild.

Just as Jungkook had numbly flung himself into a lifestyle he knew nothing about growing up, he did the same with women, screwing his way through his Seoul without remorse. And just as he chose to think that his beliefs would be true simply because he could force them to be true, he believed he could find the one simply because he decided you weren’t. Of course, when he found an inability to connect with anyone that he’d bring home or meet on a random day, he blamed it on whatever was convenient. His reason for blowing off the girl who had cutely left her number on his nightstand last night: he couldn’t see himself being with a cat person. It would never work, or so he told himself as he stretched his tired muscles.

The groggy boy yawned and sat at the edge of his bed, petting his pit bull who had excitedly come to his feet as soon as he awoke. He felt bad for not being able to spend more time with his dog, but he was thankful one of his friends was always home to care for him when he couldn’t. Besides, the dog had grown more attached to his best friend anyway.

He peered into his tired eyes reflected back at him in his large mirror that faced his bed. He shook his long dark hair out of his eyes and flexed his muscles, watching his tattoos contort in the process.

“You are so fucken full of yourself.” Taehyung watched his friend from the doorway before the dog turned towards him, wagging his tail furiously. Tae was his favorite person in the house because he was home a lot and therefore spent the most time with him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, flashing a cocky smile towards his friend before locating his shirt and throwing it on over his head.

“What time is it?” He yawned and stood up, patting the bed for his phone.

“Five. Come eat.”

Both of them descended the stairs once Jungkook found his cellphone in the pocket of his jeans sprawled on the floor. They joined the rest of their rowdy housemates at the dinner table, taking seats opposite of each other as Yoongi began serving them the fried rice he had slayed over.

As Jungkook rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he looked around the table and felt at ease. He’d managed to find himself in crazy situations since he’d left home, but the one thing he didn’t regret was befriending this group of boys. They’d taken him under their wing and offered him countless good advice when he really needed it. But most of all, he was grateful for his absolute best friend in the entire world, Taehyung.

They had gotten off to a rocky start when they first met, sizing each other up after one spilled a drink on the other during a party. After so long, neither of them remembered who started the altercation exactly, but they could both freely laugh about it since the whole thing was so stupid.

Jungkook and Taehyung ended up spending a lot of time together after that fateful party since they shared so many friends, and realized they had a lot more in common than they originally thought. It wasn’t long before they were as thick as thieves, going out together, getting kicked out of clubs together, giving each other poorly drawn tattoos and playing wingman when one desperately needed to get laid.

Though Taehyung was always as rambunctious as he was, Jungkook still knew he didn’t share that same chaos within himself that compelled him to be reckless. Taehyung was a good guy with a good head on his shoulders and a bright future ahead of him, so the closer they got, the more Jungkook encouraged him to go to college and put those brains of his to good use.

He ended up taking the advice, which is where he met his current girlfriend. Jungkook had been both happy and disappointed to hear the news. He saw how happy and smitten Tae was, but this meant he had lost his wingman, and it also undoubtedly meant they would spend less time together since he’d seen first-hand how girlfriends suck up a man’s free time. Jungkook wrinkled his nose at the thought as he chewed on his dinner, well, breakfast really.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi watched Jungkook make a face as he ate, worried about the taste of his food.

Jungkook quickly shook his head, “No hyung, this is really good, thank you.” Yoongi nodded in satisfaction, turning to look at Taehyung.

“What about you?”

Taehyung turned to the older boy in confusion, swallowing his food before reaffirming how good the rice was. Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head before he spoke, “Not that. Didn’t you have something you wanted to tell us?”

The table went quiet as Taehyung smiled, his cheeks twinged pink in embarrassment at the sudden focus on him. Jungkook quirked his brow, unsure as to what was going on. He was usually the first to know about Taehyung’s business, but his increase in hours at work had been keeping him out of the loop with all of the house’s plans.

Taehyung cleared his throat, making eye contact with the members of the table as he spoke, “So, as you all may or may not know, I have a girlfriend,” Someone made a sound of disgust which caused the table to erupt in laughter. Nonetheless, Taehyung persevered, “And it’s getting pretty serious so, I want to bring her over so you all can meet her. You guys are like my family so…” Another sound of disgust was made, but this time it came from Jungkook. Everyone laughed as Tae flung the bottle of sauce at him. The younger boy caught it, his squinted eyes alight with humor. “Since everyone has a day off this Saturday, I’m inviting her over then. I figured we could watch a movie or something. It’s been forever since we all hung out as a group too. Everyone’s so busy these days…”

The boys took turns looking around the table, feeling a bit guilty for not making more free time for each other. When they had first moved in, they were all inseparable, but now, it was rare for them to all be congregated to share a meal the way they all were now.

“Anyway, that’s it. Please don’t embarrass me.” Taehyung held his palms up together in the air, pleading his hyungs not to go out of their way to scare his girlfriend off.

Jungkook smiled as he watched his friends begin to crack jokes about how domesticated Taehyung had become after becoming taken. The brunette ate his food in silence, trying to focus on their words and not in the buzzing feeling he felt deep inside himself. He knew this feeling already, he had felt it before, and if this was years ago, he’d be unwilling to give it the time of day.

Before, he had wanted to drive you out of his life by force, and it had worked for a bit, but every once in a while, this feeling of nostalgia would wash over him, reminding him that somewhere out there in this big world full of billions of people, you existed, no matter how much he thought he didn’t care. Eventually, he just had to make peace with that, and allow you back into his thoughts bit by bit so that he wouldn’t die a resentful old man (as he put it).

It was a year ago, right around the time that Taehyung had announced his relationship to Jungkook. He had played his role as “the best friend who just wanted him to be happy”, but when he sat alone in his room that night, he’d fished out his sketchbook that was flung under the bed and began flipping through it. Countless drawings of you littered the pages, some in your school uniform, some in a sunhat as you helped your mother pull weeds from the yard, even some of you as a kid when you still wore buns to school. He allowed himself to look at these images fondly for the first time, allowing himself to feel connected to a part of himself he had carelessly thrown away.

Now that he was a man, he was able to make peace with the fact that things didn’t work out the way he had hoped they would as a child, and that that was okay. He even tried to draw you again for the first time in years, but the image came out looking like someone unrecognizable, so he had sighed and put the pad away again. Though he didn’t start sketching you again as he used to, he allowed himself to think about you from time to time, and that made all the difference.

He had grown comfortable with the idea of you again, even now as he tried but failed to listen to his friends talking, his mind wandered to you and what you might be doing. He wondered what your life was like now and what you looked like, if you went to college, if you had dated anymore douchebags, if you cut your hair short like you’d always wanted to but never had the bravery to do so. Jungkook sighed, turning back to his plate of food. None of it mattered anymore anyway.

Saturday came all too quickly and Jungkook wasn’t exactly excited about it. He knew Taehyung specifically chose this day to bring his girlfriend around because it was Jungkook’s day off, and it bothered him. He grumbled as he brushed his teeth, wondering why you were so special to have such a welcome wagon. You had been the person to take his best friend away, so to Jungkook, your arrival had been a personal offense. They were supposed to be bachelors in Seoul, but now he was flying solo and it just wasn’t as fun.

As the younger boy joined his friends in the living room on Saturday afternoon, he noticed Taehyung was missing.

“He went to go pick her up.” Jimin read the confused look on Jungkook’s face. The boy nodded, yawning as he plopped himself down on the couch. His dog came bounding in and jumped up on his lap. He patted the dog’s back as he leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to doze off. He had been pretty restless, so he was tired, to say the least.

It wasn’t until his dog had excitedly jumped off of his lap and ran towards the door to greet the newcomers that Jungkook woke up again. The force of the dog using his lap for take-off shook the boy awake, causing him to come-to just as Taehyung and his girlfriend let themselves in. Jungkook yawned again, calling out sternly to his dog when he saw him barking and sniffing his guest excitedly. The dog didn’t listen, choosing instead to lay on his back and relish in the pets and scratches he was being treated with. Jungkook chuckled and stood up, making his way over to them to make sure his overly excited dog wasn’t bothering Tae’s girlfriend.

He watched as you scratched his dog in all the right places before looking up at him with the brightest smile on your face.

“Is he yours? He’s so cute!”

Jungkook froze as he stared into your eyes. His entire body went cold, buzzing with that feeling of nostalgia that became second nature to him. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in years, but it was definitely you, he was sure of it.

It was as if time had stopped when he stared into your eyes. He stopped breathing in that moment, unsure of which thoughts and feelings to process first.

He was immensely shocked, because he had long made his peace that he’d never meet you. He was dumbfounded, because of all places and circumstances for you two to meet, it had to be this way. Lastly, he fought the urge to bust out laughing, because of course fate would have him meeting you now when he had all but given up on any notion of kismet. Of course, you would pop back into his life now.

He drank your appearance in ravenously, willing himself to memorize your features all over again. It was as if staring at an old photograph. He was filled with a sense of awe and fondness at how so much time had passed yet it was as if no time had passed at all. You hadn’t changed in the slightest, he concluded. You still wore your hair exactly as you had in high school, and your eyes were still large and full of wonder, he was happy to find. He thought back to his sketch book and the countless drawings it held of you with your eyes big and round and full of stars in them.

But for all these thoughts and emotions coursing through his veins, he was unable to voice any of them, the feeling of déjà vu shaking him to his core and serving as reassurance that he hadn’t been crazy, he hadn’timagined you.

He stared open mouthed, unable to form the words he had always wanted to say to you, until Tae nudged his side. He looked at his best friend who had shot him a confused look, silently telling him to stop being weird. He had almost forgotten under which circumstances he was meeting you in. Almost.

“Oh, uh, yeah, he’s mine. Thanks.”

You nodded and stood up, coming to Taehyung’s side and grabbing a hold of your boyfriend’s hand. You peered at the five other curious eyes that stared back at you from the living room. Tae led you toward the couches and Jungkook hesitated before following right behind his traitorous dog.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Yoongi, Jimin, Jin, Hobi, Namjoon and Jungkook.”

You blushed, bowing at everyone and smiling shyly at Jungkook. You hated being the center of attention, so you wanted to get this introduction out of the way as soon as possible.

“Wow, she’s a foreigner.” Yoongi was the first to speak, eyeing you and Taehyung.

“Oh, did I not mention that?” Tae scratched his cheek in thought. He had mentioned it, but only to Jungkook.

“No, you didn’t. Does she speak Korean?”

“I do,” you spoke up, feeling awkward that they weren’t talking directly to you.

The boys looked at each other in wonderment, already impressed by Taehyung’s girlfriend. But the person who was most intrigued was Jungkook. A thousand questions burned at the tip of his tongue. He was dying to know how you’d gotten here, and how he might fit into that equation, though he desperately beat back that tiny flame of hope inside of himself that somehow you were both still meant to be.

“So, what are we watching?” Hobi opened a bag of chips and dug his hand in, already bored of the introductions. Relief flooded your system as they all switched to a topic that wasn’t about you.

Jungkook shifted his gaze to his feet, realizing he was still staring like a weirdo, so he decided to pop the dvd into his entertainment system while you and Taehyung situation yourselves on the floor. You cuddled into your boyfriend’s side, shyly leaning your head on his shoulder to shield yourself from any curious eyes.

Jungkook made his way towards his spot on the couch now occupied by his dog. He shooed the animal off and plopped back down, keeping his eyes trained on the television.

But try as he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you. He could barely see you from the way you were sitting next to Taehyung below, but it was enough to know that you were there in the same room as him. His heart began racing as he thought about what this might mean.

You weren’t just a stranger in the street he happened to recognize, you were his best friend’s girlfriend. And apparently you two were serious, according to Taehyung himself. That wasn’t a term his best friend used lightly, so he knew you two were the real deal.

It was only then that his jealousy had begun to set in, though it felt out of place.

Jungkook had given up on you a long time ago, made his peace with the idea that you and he weren’t, in fact, fated somehow. So why was he suddenly green with envy at the thought that Taehyung of all people would be the one you ended up with. He had grown comfortable with the idea that some ordinary guy on the other side of the world whom he knew nothing about would be the guy you ended up with, not his best friend.

Jungkook balled his fists on his thighs. He let out a shaky breath and clenched his jaw, willing his eyes to go back to the movie on screen.

But when the chips made their way to you, he watched as you politely declined to have any. Jungkook began reminiscing to a few years ago when you had gone through a phase of eating a lot less to look a certain way. He pursed his lips, hoping you weren’t doing that kind of thing again.

He watched your hand, specifically the one enveloped inside of Tae’s grip. The blonde rubbed circles into your thumb which cause your shoulders to relax and for you to melt into Taehyung’s side. You had been tense, though Jungkook suspected as much since you’d never quite gotten over your aversion to attention as a child.

Suddenly the boy felt a pair of eyes burning at the side of his face. He turned and caught Hobi’s eyes on him. His housemate furrowed his eyebrows, gesturing over to you behind your back and mouthing the words why are you staring.

Jungkook pursed his lips. He had forgotten about his surroundings yet again. He absolutely wouldn’t be able to explain himself, so he settled for seeming like a creep in his friend’s eyes as he turned his focus back on the television. And he successfully kept his attention off of you, though he couldn’t quite stop his mind from drifting.

He began to wonder what exactly you had been up to for the past couple years that had landed you here, in his living room, watching a movie together.

The last thing he remembered about you was that you had taken a trip here after your shitty high school boyfriend had broken up with you. Had you liked Seoul enough to come back to and live? Had you pursued your interest in historical studies like the little nerd you always were? Clearly you had learned a thing or two since high school in the romance category, since you had said yes to such a great guy like Taehyung. Would you have been less happy if you had ended up with him? Jungkook shut his eyes and forced the intrusive thought out of his mind. There was no you and him, there never was, so there was no reason to waste time imagining it.

Before he knew it, the movie had ended, and he had no idea what is was even about. There were a few explosions, that’s about all he could recall.

As everyone stretched and commented on the movie’s ending, Jungkook stole a few glances in your direction. He instantly noticed how you had hid yourself behind Taehyung a bit, listening attentively but shying away whenever someone looked at you. In an effort to get away from Yoongi’s stare, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s which had already been on you. You blushed and looked down at your feet, feeling socially overwhelmed. Jungkook fought the urge to be protective over you, to get in between you and the curious stares and to ask you if you were okay. But no matter how much of a right he felt to do these things, he knew he couldn’t, so he was happy when Taehyung looked down and finally noticed your blushing face. He looked up at Yoongi and quirked a brow at him.

“You want to take a picture? It’ll last longer!” Yoongi chuckled at Tae’s outburst but nonetheless turned away from them. He challenged anyone else with a stern look who might dare to make you feel uncomfortable. Each of the boys looked away, rubbing the backs of their necks like little boys who had been caught teasing the new girl.

Jungkook cleared his throat, taking this moment to speak to you for the first time.

“So…Y/N… how did you get to be in Korea, if you don’t mind me asking.” The hard line in Taehyung’s lips softened into a smile. He felt glad that at least one of his friends was being polite. Your boyfriend turned towards you, giving you an encouraging smile.

You peered up at Jungkook from between your eyelashes, the blush slowly leaving your face. “Well, I came to Seoul once in high school, and I really liked it. I ended up applying to Yonsei shortly after. I wasn’t expecting to get in, but I did, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, slowly piecing together the last couple years of your life he had been absent for.

“So…you’re still in school then?”

“No, actually, I graduated last year. I met Taehyung during my graduation in fact! It’s a funny story.” You smiled up at your boyfriend who was beaming down at you. He hugged you closer to his side, recalling that day vividly.

Someone made a noise of disgust, breaking you two out of your moment. Taehyung launched himself at Jimin while everyone laughed, including you. You giggled quietly as you watched your boyfriend wrestle his friend to the ground. Jungkook was enamored with you, that he couldn’t deny. He had so many more questions, but he knew it’d be weird to give you the third degree right now, so he took the opportunity that everyone’s attention was averted to slip quietly upstairs to his bedroom. He had grown mentally exhausted and he wanted a chance to recoup in the solace of his bedroom.

As he plopped himself on his bed and stared up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, the same words he had been trying to force out of his head were now running rampant through his mind like a broken record. If I hadn’t given up on us, would I be where Taehyung was at now? Should I have waited for you?

The boy sighed and stood up, crouching down under his bed to fish for his sketch pad then locating the pencil he had chucked onto his nightstand. He got to work right away, sketching a blushing girl, giggling at something a few feet away. He spent extra time on her features, making sure he got them exactly right this time. He paused to look at it periodically, ruminating on what was missing before he added a detail here and there.

Jungkook wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was a heavy knock at his door. He opened the door only to find Hobi leaning against the doorframe, staring at Jungkook with a weird expression on his face. He let himself into the boy’s room without invitation, something that always annoyed Jungkook to no end.

“Can I help you?” the brunette closed the door and turned to his hyung who had already made himself at home on his bed. His new guest eyed the sketch pad on the bed before turning back to his younger friend.

“What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem weird, can’t put my finger on it though.” Hobi squinted as he stared at Jungkook, willing for him to cough up any details about Taehyung’s girlfriend that he didn’t know. “What do you have against Y/N?”

The question caught Jungkook off guard, causing him to look around the room and stutter. “I— I don’t know what you’re referring to hyung. She’s a nice girl, why would I have anything against her?”

Hobi continued squinting at Jungkook. He knew him to be a terrible liar, which couldn’t be more obvious in this moment. This only served as more confirmation that something fishy was going on.

“Well, you couldn’t stop staring at her, and the first chance you got, you left. You must know something.” Hobi leaned back on the bed and felt the pad brush up against his fingers. Since Jungkook wasn’t budging, he decided to pick it up and flip through it. Jungkook froze as he watched someone looking at his drawings for the first time ever. Would he know who they all were?

He watched Hobi carefully, noticing how his dull eyes had lit up in recognition. His eyebrows shot up as a slow whistle left his puckered lips. Shit.

“Holy shit—”

“Let me explain.”

“You’re in love with Tae’s girl?!” Hobi turned toward the boy with pure humor rearranging his features. He had caught the bastard red handed.

“No, I’m not!” Jungkook ground his teeth together as he stomped over to his bed and ripped the pad out of his friend’s hands.

“Yes, you are!! You totally are dude. There’s like a million drawings in here of her! When did you have time to do all of these!?” Hobi spoke in between incredulous laughter.

Jungkook sighed impatiently, looking back towards the door in fear that someone might overhear.

“Shut the fuck up! You have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

“So, what is it then?” Hobi leaned back, eyeing his friend suspiciously. There wasn’t much the younger boy might be able to say that would convince him otherwise, but he gave him the benefit of the doubt, nonetheless.

Jungkook sighed again, dragging his feet as he moved beside Hobi. He sat down heavily, placing the pad on Hobi’s lap reluctantly.

“I always date my drawings.” Jungkook didn’t offer anything more, so Hobi let his curiosity get the best of him and flipped the book open once more. He looked at the bottom left corner of the first page, furrowing his eyebrows while reading the date once, twice, and one more time.

“This is from…years ago…” He turned to another page, and then another, finally realizing that today wasn’t Jungkook’s first encounter with Tae’s girlfriend.

“Bro…this is fucked up.” He chucked the book back on the bed, turning to Jungkook whom was regarding him shamefully. “Does Tae know about this?”

Jungkook shook his head solemnly. “He doesn’t have to know either. I’m staying out of the way, so don’t say anything to him.”

Hobi thought for a moment. He wasn’t used to being Jungkook’s confidante. That role had been taken by Tae from the beginning. He was conflicted, since they were both good friends of his. He didn’t want to be in the middle when this would undoubtedly blow up in Jungkook’s face, but he didn’t want Tae to think him a traitor for staying quiet either. But what would he even be staying quiet about?

“So, what exactly went on between you two? Did you two grow up together or something? She didn’t seem to know you when she first got here.”

Jungkook sighed, realizing he would have to risk sounding crazy in order to get Hobi to understand the unique situation he was in.

“That’s because she doesn’t know who I am. But I’ve always known who she was.”

“What are you some kinda stalker?!”

Jungkook deadpanned at Hobi who pursed his lips, promising not to interrupt anymore.

“It’s…hard for me to say this, so be open minded, if you can. I’ve had these…visions,” Jungkook fearfully peered at his friend who was staring back at him in confusion, “so to speak, since I was a child. They were all about her, and it’s not like I chose this, or anything, they just kind of happen. But it was hard for me to recall her face whenever I wasn’t seeing these…visions…so I started sketching her whenever I could, to remember. I know it sounds weird, but please believe me, I have no reason to lie.”

When Jungkook hadn’t heard anything, he looked over at his friend who was staring down at the floor in contemplation. Hobi was conflicted between believing Jungkook had truly lost his marbles and believing even a sliver of what he was saying. Hobi never believed in anything supernatural of that sort, so it was hard for him to process his words. Still, if there was any possibility that he wasn’t going to go rat Jungkook out to Tae in the next minute, it all depended on whether he believed Jungkook’s innocence. He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t intrigued, but the thought of Jungkook making all of this up to convince him they weren’t fooling around being Taehyung’s back seemed a bit much.

“So, let me get this straight. You expect me to believe that you have all of these drawings and know intimate things about Taehyung’s girl, not because you two are hooking up in secret, but because you have these weird fortune telling powers? Do you think I’m an idiot or something?”

Jungkook sighed again, “I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s the truth. There’s nothing else to it.”

Hobi thought for a second. He had fully expected his friend to blow up on him and get defensive, and when he didn’t, he was even more inclined to hear him out.

“Okay…if this bullshit is all true, then tell me some things about her that only you would know.”

Jungkook quirked a brow, wondering how that would prove his innocence to Hobi, but nonetheless he complied.

“Well,” Jungkook flipped through all of his memories of your life in his mind, recalling a ton he could choose from, “she auditioned for the cheerleading squad in her middle school, but she got denied because she couldn’t even do a cartwheel. Oh, and she used to have a secret pet. She found this dying kitten on her way home from school one day and she wanted to take it home, but she knew her parents wouldn’t be okay with that, so she snuck it in and kept it in her room. She fed it and bathed it, but it died a week later, and she was so broken up about it for a long time.” Jungkook thought some more, “When she turned 14, her parents finally let her go to the movies with her friends without parental supervision. She decided to stuff her bra with toilet paper before going, but it fell out during the movie,” Jungkook began sniggering, remembering the mortification you felt in that moment, “so she quietly pulled it all out and left it under her chair. OH and she skipped school one time to get a belly button ring that ended up getting infected.”

“OKAY, that’s enough! Jeez.” Hobi stood up from the bed exasperatedly. There was no denying Jungkook knew some pretty weird details about you, but there was only one way to find out if they were real or not. “Come on, dinner’s ready.”

Jungkook followed Hobi back downstairs where everyone awaited at the dinner table. He sat across from the red head, trying his best not to look in your direction even when he could feel your eyes on him. He just wanted to get through this meal as quickly as possible so he could retreat back into his room. It was funny how back then he wanted nothing more than to spend time with you, and now after all this time he wanted nothing more than for you to disappear through the same door you had come from.

“So, Y/N,” Hobi cleared his throat while everyone looked up at him. You looked down the table towards him, startled to hear him calling you so loudly. Jungkook’s head snapped up in his direction, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach forming quickly, “I feel like I hardly know you. You ever had any pets?”

Everyone turned toward you as you thought for a second. Your voice was small, barely heard above the television that played in the background.

“Umm, no not really. I wasn’t allowed to have any growing up.”

Hobi shot Jungkook a look as the younger boy grimaced, realizing what he was trying to do.

“Okay…ever gotten denied from a sports team?”

The boys made faces at Hobi, wondering why his questions were so oddly specific. Tae shot him a warning glance, turning back to you as you mulled over his question.

“Does cheerleading count?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned towards Hobi who had mirrored the same expression.

Taehyung smiled down at you, “Babe, I didn’t know you wanted to be a cheerleader at some point.”

You smiled back at him bashfully, “It was in middle school actually, but I couldn’t do any acrobatics to save my life.” You giggled at memory. What was once painfully humiliating was now a fond memory to you, and it had affected Jungkook in the same way. When he experienced things along with you, he felt them too as if they were happening to him. But your memories aged within him just like his own, he was happy to find.

“Hm. Interesting. Well, as you can see here, we’re big fans of tattoos and piercings. Got any of your own?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?!” Taehyung growled at the loud mouth redhead sitting a few feet from him. You clutched at your boyfriends’ sleeve, letting him know you didn’t find an issue with his curiosity.

“Well, not really no. I had a belly button piercing once but I took it out. It was way too much work.”

Taehyung turned to you, speaking in a low tone. “Are you serious? Wait that’s actually really hot. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You giggled, getting embarrassed, “I never really told anyone about that actually. It was my way of being a rebel in high school.” Taehyung chuckled at your confession, pulling on your cheek to show you how adorable he thought you were.

Hobi focused on his meal during the remainder of the dinner, a look of torment shone on his face that no one bothered to question him about. Jungkook felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he had put Hobi in a weird predicament by sharing something so inexplicable with him. But what was he supposed to do, risk making both you and he look like adulterers in a single bound?

Jungkook counted the seconds until you would leave, but goddammit, the time just never came. He was finding less and less excuses to slip away and not get to know Tae’s girlfriend, and at the end of the night when everyone was tired and heading to bed, Taehyung had excused you both and gone straight into his bedroom for the night.

Jungkook wasn’t sure why he expected otherwise, knowing how Taehyung operated with women. How could he have expected you two to be celibate? The boy begrudgingly went upstairs and into his bedroom, flinging himself onto his bed. He wasn’t tired in the slightest since he was used to being at work at this time.

He had deliberately not made any plans tonight for the purpose of meeting you, which he was now deeply regretting as he recalled how thin the wall that his bedroom shared with Tae’s was.

Jungkook quickly hopped up and fetched his guitar from its stand, deciding he’d practice his music all night if he had to, though realistically, he knew Tae’s longest time was about 40 minutes, so that wouldn’t be necessary at all.

Jungkook strummed on his strings a few times before remembering to fetch his song book in case he had any ideas for lyrics.

During the brief silence as he walked over to his desk, he heard your distinct giggle from the other side of the wall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling through flared nostrils before returning to his guitar.

By the time the sun was rising, he had written and rehearsed an entire song. Of course, it was about you. He just couldn’t get you out of his stupid head no matter what he did. You’d ruined him all over again and you’d only been back in his life for less than a day. He decided he’d hate you from now on as he threw on his hoodie to step outside for a morning cigarette.

He’d hate your face, he’d hate your blush, he’d hate your stupid giggle, and he’d hate your nerdy tendencies. There was nothing about you that he’d allow himself to love or even like. That was the only way he was going to make it out of this situation in one piece.

But as he stepped out into the patio and made eye contact with you, all of those declarations melted away. He loved all of those things about you, and he always would, so he tried even harder to push back against the way his inner self wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and tell you all the things about him that you’d missed over the past 24 years.

You had snuck out of Tae’s bed for a morning cigarette as well, but you realized you hadn’t brought a lighter with you, so you settled for taking in some cool fresh air. When Jungkook came out to join you, you offered him a warm smile, remembering how nice he had been to you the night before, so it was a shock to see the way his eyes and his jaw hardened under your gaze. He seemed to have grown an aversion to you, or were you just unaware at how generally disliked you were around here?

Jungkook let the door close behind him with a bang as he took his cigarette off of his ear and popped it into his mouth. He fished the lighter from his pants and began trying to light it as you popped your own cigarette into your mouth.

You watched as he lit his cigarette and inhaled greedily before exhaling tiredly into the cool morning air.

“Umm,” You looked up at the boy who was busy pretending you weren’t there. He stiffened at the sound of your voice before hesitantly looking over to you. His eyes widened at the sight of the cigarette in your mouth. “Can I borrow your lighter?”

Jungkook furrowed his brow, yanking the cigarette from in between your lips quickly.

“Y/N what are you doing!? You don’t smoke!”

You were shocked at the way he felt comfortable enough to do such a thing, even speaking to you as if he knew you. You stared at each other, the moment tense with many things unsaid. Suddenly, he realized his mistake, looking away from you to compose himself. Of course, you didn’t know how well he knew you. You’d always found these things disgusting. What changed?

Jungkook decided it would be best to just play this whole thing off as a joke, but when he extended the cigarette back out to you, he felt conflicted with himself. As much of hypocrite that he was being in this moment, he didn’t want to encourage your newfound habit, so he chucked the cigarette into the grass just before you could wrap your fingers around it.

You stared open mouthed as you watched the stick land on the dirt. There was no way you wanted to put your mouth on it now. Your eyes watered, looking back up at the boy who was being inexplicably mean to you. Between the odd stares and the whispering last night, and now this, you had just about had enough.

“What the hell did I do to you!? To any of you?! You’re all so…” You struggled to find the words to say, then realized it probably wasn’t smart to blow up on Tae’s best friend right after meeting him. So you groaned and turned away, marching back upstairs to your boyfriend’s room before you embarrassed yourself by crying from being overwhelmed in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook sighed once he heard the door to Tae’s room close. He continued sucking on the cigarette, mentally scolding himself for not handling the situation better. Part of him was thundering, angry that he hadn’t done everything he could to keep you there with him as long as he could. He knew he couldn’t listen to that part of himself though, not if he didn’t want to cross any lines he couldn’t come back from.

Jungkook stomped the flame out of his cigarette before going back upstairs and finally submitting to his exhaustion. But just as he nodded off to sleep, he realized he was still awake. Or was he?

He was looking up at the ceiling for a while, until he realized it wasn’t his ceiling, it was Tae’s ceiling, and you were the one looking at it.

He felt a thrill running through him. He hadn’t dreamed of you in years, and it still felt as natural to him as if he’d never stopped.

You were lying next to Tae as he slept, trying to calm yourself down so that you could go back to sleep peacefully. You were fuming, playing the events of this morning over and over in your head. It felt surreal for Jungkook to see himself as a guest star in his dreams of you. For so long, the dreams felt like something so detached from himself, as abstract as the very concept itself.

Although you were seeing him in a negative light, he was still beside himself that for the first time, he wasn’t the only one thinking of you. You were finally thinking of him too.

It was better this way, for you to hate him instead of feel for him the complicated feelings he felt for you. He watched as you drifted off to sleep, and so his dream went dark for the remainder of his sleep, not that he minded anyway.

Three loud and decided consecutive knocks interrupted the quietness of Jungkook’s bedroom. It was late in the evening and Jungkook was busy styling his hair before heading off to work. Normally he’d be annoyed by the intrusion, but he recognized those knocks by now. Tae’s knuckles hitting solid wood always sounded like bullets.

Jungkook sauntered over to the door and opened it before heading back to the mirror. He didn’t bother asking his best friend what was up or even making eye contact with him, he knew if Tae ever had something to say he’d just say it.

“Getting ready for work?” Jungkook grunted in response, putting his comb down and picking up his hair spray. “Alright, well I won’t hold you up then. I just wanted to ask you personally about what happened the other day. Y/N said you were really mean to her…”

Taehyung observed his friend closely for a response. He had been surprised to hear you two hadn’t actually gotten along since he was under the impression that you two had hit it off quite well. Surely it was a misunderstanding?

Jungkook struggled to conceal his smirk. Nerd’s still a tattle tale I see.

“Oh, really? I didn’t think I was being mean at all.” Jungkook looked over at Taehyung innocently.

The older boy sighed in frustration. “Okay well, whatever the case, can you please just fix it?”

Jungkook quirked a brow. “Why do you care so much?”

“Please, dude! C’mon do this for me! I really need her to be comfortable coming over! She doesn’t like fucking at her place with all her roommates around and I really need to get laid.”

Jungkook snorted and turned back to the mirror. He didn’t see how that was his problem in the slightest. In fact, he should be the last person on this earth to worry about it.

“Jungkook c’mon!”

The younger boy audibly groaned, quickly becoming tired of this conversation.

“What do you want me to do if she doesn’t like me!?”

“I don’t know man, show her your nice side? Say something nice to her? Spend a little time together? Fuck if I know what girls need in this situation…” Jungkook grimaced. He didn’t like the sound of having to spend quality time with you one bit. “C’mon dude, you used to be my trusty wingman. Do this for me!”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the buzzing in his veins.

“Okay, fine! Fuck!”

Taehyung’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He knew he could count on his best friend to get him laid.

“Alright, I’m outta here. Thanks dude, seriously!”

Jungkook grunted his response as Tae flew down the stairs and out of sight. He let out a long sigh as he collected his belongings. He already knew this would be a long night now that he was already thinking about you. Normally he’d stave off any thoughts that had to do with you as long as possible. Taehyung that dickhead.

Jungkook’s train ride to work was quick as usual. The cars were always stuffed with people at the hour that he’d always go in, but luckily, he didn’t have to put up with it for too long. He was already quite used to his work routine by now.

He’d start by letting himself in through the club’s side door. He’d greet the owner who was always inside doing paperwork before the rest got in. The guys from security were always there too, helping set up the floor.

When Jungkook first started working there, he always kept his head down and did his job to the best of his ability. Nothing much had changed throughout the years, except that now he knew people’s names and had even made a friend or two.

Once he’d make his way to the bar, Jungkook liked to start off by making sure all of the glasses and shakers were cleaned and properly stocked. Then he’d fill his ice and get the juices, sodas and fruits he needed to make his drinks. By then, the club would be opening and quickly filling. His barback would also show up to help him out. He was a good kid, reminded Jungkook of himself a lot when he was his age. Jungkook never bothered asking him how he found himself in this city working at this club, but he had a feeling it was for a similar reasons as Jungkook’s.

On the weekends though, his coworker Lisa would show up a few hours into his shift to help him serve the massive volume of people in need of inebriation. He didn’t mind her company so much these days, now that she’d finally gotten the point that he didn’t want to sleep with her.

On this day, however, he was most grateful to see her bouncing bob making its way to him behind the bar. It was only a Friday, but it must’ve been the start to some kind of holiday weekend with the way people were hoarding the bar like an army of zombies.

“Hey Kookie!” Lisa ruffled the boy’s curls as she passed him by from behind.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Jungkook filled four gin and tonics while grumbling at his coworker.

“Oh, I’m sorry Kookie. What would you prefer?” The girl purred innocently, loving the way it was so easy to fluster this man twice her size.

“Just Jungkook.” He stated monotonously as he pushed out the four drinks then got a couple beers from the minifridge under the counter.

“Hmm…nah. Too long!” She giggled at her own mischievousness while Jungkook could only groan. Unfortunately, the barback happened to come up with the ice refill they needed in that moment and was now on the receiving end of Jungkook’s pent up frustration.

“I asked for this shit ages ago, where have you been?!”

The boy flinched at the tone in Jungkook’s voice. He only stared wide-eyed, unable to defend himself. He had lost track of time after checking his phone once he got to the ice machine.

Lisa took the bucket from the boy and gave him an apologetic smile. He scurried off to the back to get the fruit Jungkook had also asked him for ages ago.

“Be easier on him or else he’ll quit. We can’t operate without a barback.”

Lisa took care of the next few drinks while Jungkook wiped the wet counter. The customers were getting drunker by the hour and consequently, sloppier.

“We can’t operate with a shitty barback either. He’s gotta learn. This is how I learned.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, knowing Jungkook meant well. He just didn’t understand what a brute he could be sometimes. She wished it hadn’t turned her on as much as it did.

The next hour went by as usual. Lisa and Jungkook had already developed a smooth flow of working together, finishing drinks for each other, picking up the slack whenever one of them was flirting for a good tip, even picking up the slack whenever one of them got a little too tipsy after taking shots with insistent customers.

Tonight, however, was different. Jungkook was distracted. He couldn’t stop looking at you and therefore was constantly messing up.

Your coworkers decided to drag you to a hot nightclub in Hongdae tonight to celebrate one of them finally getting engaged. Nightclubs weren’t exactly your scene, but you didn’t want to spoil the infectious mood or offend them by declining to go. It had taken a long time for them to warm up to you as a foreigner, so you didn’t want to do anything that might put them off. It’s not that you were against the drinking and the dancing and the partying per se, you loved having a good time. But sometimes you’d get in your own head and worry about coming off as awkward. You also weren’t a good dancer.

Nonetheless, you found yourself at the crowded venue with the girls close to midnight, swaying to the music and sucking on a sweet vodka cranberry.

Jungkook had spotted you as soon as you came in. He’d felt a tingling sensation that wouldn’t leave him, until he served a customer that was facing the door. His eyes snapped to your figure receding into the crowd that surrounded the bar. With his eyes trained on you like a hawk, he quickly gathered you were there with a group of women whom had reserved a table last minute. It was hard for him to keep track of you unless he went out of his way to peer over the heads crowding the bar, so he tried not to care at all, which resulted in him distractedly making drinks wrong and ultimately knocking over a glass.

Lisa casted worried glances at her coworker who was normally such an expert. When the glass smashed against the floor, she considered it to be the last straw. Jungkook rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tattoos that decorated both of his arms before squatting down to pick up the mess he had made. She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, causing him to flinch as he looked up at her.

“Go take 5. I’ll clean up. I don’t know what’s wrong with you today but go get yourself together.”

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded before heading out of the club through the back. He left the door ajar so as not to lock himself out and as soon as the cool air hit his hot cheeks, he visibly relaxed. He hated being a liability at work. The fact that you were the reason that he was being so clumsy and sloppy was doubly annoying.

Jungkook fished for his lighter and his pack of cigarettes in his pants. He found the former but not the latter, realizing he forgot them at home on his nightstand, another result of his head being so occupied. He sighed in frustration, leaning against the brick wall and tugging at his roots with his fingers. What is she even doing here of all places? Did Tae put her up to this? This wasn’t what he meant when he agreed to spending time with you.

Suddenly a sharp cry pierced his muddled thoughts. His head snapped towards the end of the alley where a woman and a man were huddled together. He squinted his eyes and listened closely, realizing that the situation looked hostile.

The drunken man’s hand was gripping the woman’s arm roughly and tugging her towards him while she struggled to get out of his embrace.

“I SAID NO!” With one final tug, the girl ripped her arm out of the man’s grasp, only for him to lunge at her phone that was in her other hand.

Jungkook hadn’t realized when his feet started moving. All he knew was that the voice belonged to you and that you were in trouble.

His hand pushed the man roughly, causing the older guy to stumble backwards. He had successfully gotten your phone out of your hand, so Jungkook reached for it and snatched it back. The man looked at him furiously.

“Who the hell are you!? Mind your own business man!”

“Get the fuck out of here before I get security.” Jungkook’s voice was low and calm, more of a threat than screaming would ever prove. The man took one look at you and Jungkook before sucking his teeth and walking off.

Jungkook watched him for a while until he disappeared into another bar up the block then turned to you.

You were shaking, hiding behind Jungkook a bit.

He instantly took pity on you, handing you your phone back and subtly turning the corners of his mouth upward.

“You okay?”

You looked up at him and nodded weakly, taking your phone back sullenly.

“…Yeah. I just came out here to call Tae and this creep followed me! God, I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here…what are you doing here, by the way?”

“I work here. Bartender.”

A look of recognition flashed across your eyes before you smiled down at your feet. “Ah, the bartender.”

Jungkook quirked a brow, curious about the sudden inflection in your voice. When you saw his eyes regarding you questioningly, you chuckled and blushed.

“No, it’s just that, my friend got us all drinks and she wouldn’t stop talking about the hot bartender.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up and he couldn’t help chuckling himself. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, looking at anywhere else that wasn’t you.

“Ah…”

Suddenly the smell of smoke wafted in front of Jungkook. He noticed you had lit a cigarette while he wasn’t paying attention.

“You’re not going to rip this one out of my mouth, are you?” You challenged him with a playful look, causing the boy to chuckle again.

“Nah I’m not.” A moment passed as he deliberated on what to do. You clearly had a phone call to make, and his five minutes were just about up. He should go. He should definitely go. “Hey, can I bum one off of you? I left my pack at home.”

“Oh this is actually my last one, but we can share!” You extended the white stick out to him. He hesitated before plucking it from your fingers and taking a long drag.

You both took turns passing it back and forth in silence. Although this moment was innocent, Jungkook knew he was already beginning to overstep the boundaries he had long placed in between you two. His mind screamed for him to go back to work, but his feet just didn’t move.

“So, you told on me to Tae huh?” Jungkook exhaled a clowd of smoke then handed you the cigarette with a cocky smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back, yanking the already shortened stick from his hand.

“I hold no loyalties to you.” You stuck your tongue out at him playfully. You were glad there wasn’t any animosity between you two as you had initially thought. Tae held his friendship to Jungkook near and dear to him, so it wore on you to be on bad terms with someone whom he loved that much.

Jungkook shook his head, refusing to take the cigarette when you attempted to pass it to him. “So why are youhere?”

“Just here with my coworkers. Do I look that out of place?”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, not meaning to offend you.

“No! You look good here! I mean— You…” You giggled at his sputtering, not realizing someone like Jungkook could ever get nervous. He struck you as such a cool guy, maybe a bit of a fuck boy. Suddenly you saw someone peaking their head out of the backdoor and looking in your direction.

“You on break?” You gestured toward your observer.

Jungkook followed your gaze. Lisa must’ve sent the barback for him. He instantly felt a twinge of guilt, leaving her to fend for herself on such a busy night.

“No, actually. I should probably get back.” You nodded and dropped the dead cigarette to the pavement, stomping on it with your heel. As he started walking away, he couldn’t help himself from turning around to look at you one more time. You met his gaze questioningly, so he searched for something cool to say. “Try not to get into any more trouble, I won’t be here to protect you.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “No promises.”

“So, uh…guess I’ll see you around.” Jungkook began walking off again before stopping in his tracks at the sound of your voice.

“Well, actually, you’ll see me at home! I was going to go see Tae tonight since your place is close by. Should we…take the train together?”

Jungkook was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected to be spending any more alone time with you. “Well, I close actually…”

“That’s okay! I doubt my friends will let me leave any earlier anyway. Besides Tae hates it when I take public transport alone late at night. Case in point” You gestured to the bar up the block and beamed at him. His heart stuttered a bit.

“Uh…Okay, yeah… sure. Just come see me at the bar if your friends leave.” Jungkook turned swiftly and disappeared back into the club, rushing to join Lisa behind the counter. He couldn’t wipe the goofy smirk from his face, even when Lisa shot him a dirty look for being gone so long. He simply whistled as he got back into the groove of serving the hordes of people throwing their money at them. Lisa wanted to be annoyed with him, but she couldn’t, seeing how much of a good mood he was suddenly in.

Towards the end of the night when a lot of the crowd had thinned out, she turned towards the cheerful boy who was wiping down the counter while whistling.

“Did you get laid out back or something? What’s gotten into you?”

Jungkook shot her a crooked smile, “Nah, just, in a good mood for no reason.”

Lisa pursed her lips in disbelief. From the corner of her eye, she could see a woman making their way to the bar. When she looked over and prepared herself to take her order, she saw how her eyes were trained on Jungkook.

You perched yourself on the barstool directly in front of Jungkook. The last of your coworkers had caught a cab home, leaving you the last one standing. You were pretty tipsy, but nowhere near as drunk as the rest of them had been.

Jungkook’s eyes met yours and he smiled goofily again. “Hey. Friend’s leave?”

“Yep! I’m all yours.”

Jungkook’s neck began heating up at your choice of words, so he decided to busy himself by starting on some of the closing duties.

Lisa looked between you two in curiosity. It was a rare night when Jungkook wasn’t leaving with a girl on his arm by the end of the night, but it was the first time she’d ever seen someone affect him so obviously. She crossed her arms, smiling to herself. Flustered Jungkook was a rare sight to behold.

“Do you two know each other?”

You looked over at the female bartender who was leaning across the counter staring at you.

“Uh, yeah kinda. I’m dating his best friend.”

Lisa’s eyebrows shot up and a slow smile crept across her face. Her eyes landed on Jungkook who was expertly avoiding her accusatory gaze. “Is that so…”

“You good to close up on your own?” Jungkook turned to Lisa who wasn’t too happy about him leaving early, even if she had gotten in after he did. But nonetheless the place was nearly dead, she had no excuse to keep him longer.

“I guess…” The girl pouted as he turned to you and gestured toward the door. You hopped off the stool and turned to Lisa.

“It was nice to meet you…” You waited for her to tell you her name, but she simply turned away and busied herself with cleaning something that was already clean.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at his coworker’s childish behavior as he led you out of the club.

It had gotten much colder than it was before. Jungkook had known it would, since he’s used to leaving work at 4 in the morning. You on the other hand, had not brought a jacket and were shivering already before you two had cleared the first block on the way to the train station.

Jungkook watched you rub the goosebumps on your arms before he shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders. You were shocked, not expecting him to do such a gentlemanly thing. Jeon Jungkook really knew how to surprise you.

You smiled and stuck your arms through, appreciating how much it was already warming you.

“Her name’s Lisa, by the way.” Jungkook stared straight ahead. You nodded, realizing he noticed the way she ignored you as well.

“Lisa huh…I think she likes you.” You laced your fingers behind your back and looked up at Jungkook teasingly. The boy chuckled as you both descended the stairs into the subway.

“You think so?” He knew you were right; he just hadn’t expected you to catch onto it so quickly.

“Yep! You should ask her out, she’s pretty.”

Jungkook held the door open for you. He smiled and shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

You hummed, trying to figure out his deal. “Is she not your type?”

“It’s not really that…” Jungkook looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to talk about other women with you.

“Then…”

“I just don’t want to cross that line. She’s my coworker.”

You nodded, able to respect his reasoning. “If you ever do though, we can double date!”

“…I’ll pass.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was definitely rough around the edges.

Jungkook checked the schedule for the next train. It was late at night, so the wait was 30 minutes instead of the usual 5-7.

You both waited near the edge of the tracks in silence. You two didn’t know each other that well, or so you thought, so you struggled to find something to talk about. You had only just met him, and so far, the only things you knew about him were that he liked cigarettes, wearing black, that he worked as a bartender and that he played guitar and that he sang. Oh, and that he was quite the womanizer. That last known fact was curtesy of Tae and all of the stories he told you about his fuck boy crusade with his best friend.

Jungkook searched for something to say. In reality, there were a million things he could say to you, but most of them would probably have you accusing him of being some kind of stalker.

“You have a really nice voice by the way.” Your question had caught Jungkook off guard again. He looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed, wondering how the hell you knew he liked to sing. “I heard you that night. You were up late playing your guitar.”

“Ah…sorry if I kept you up…”

“No, it’s fine! It was nice…” After another short pause, you decided to ask something that had always made you curious, “So, how did you and Tae meet?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Sort of, he just said it was at a party, but I have a feeling there’re more to the story.”

Jungkook recalled that night almost 5 years ago. The truth was that they were both trying to fuck the same girl. They ended up getting competitive with each other, almost fought after a mix up, but the girl ended up leaving with a different guy and made them both feel like dumbasses, so they ended up going to a bar together to drown their sorrows. Although it was the start of a beautiful friendship, he could tell why Tae redacted some details.

“There’s not much to say really. We went to the same party and hit it off.”

You quirked your brow at him, feeling as if he was playing his part as his friend. Nonetheless you accepted the boring story. More silence followed until Jungkook finally thought of something to say.

“So, you and Tae met at school, right?”

“Yep. Graduation.”

“Oh, that’s right, you told me that.”

Man, this is so awkward. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair while you began walking away. It was clear you had grown bored with the conversation, so you began treating the edge of the platform as a balance beam, holding your arms away from your body for balance.

Jungkook watched you for a bit, becoming worried when he saw the way you swayed a little too much. He caught your arm before you could truly lose your balance, giving you a stern look.

“Jeez, you sure have little regard for your own life.”

You looked up at him sheepishly, “Sorry, I swear I’m not that drunk, it’s just these heels are a bit too big.”

“Why are you even wearing those things? You hate heels.”

You slipped your arm out of his grasp, looking at him in confusion. How the hell does he know that? Did Tae…No, it seems too weird to bring up in conversation.

Shitshitshit. Jungkook had fucked up again. He knew this would happen. He felt entirely too comfortable around you despite being supposed strangers. What could he say to fix this?

Thankfully your tense eye contact was cut off by the train’s horn quickly approaching your platform. It had arrived much earlier than Jungkook expected, and for the first time in years, he thanked the universe for looking out.

You both climbed into the train. It was a lot less crowded than usual, so you both found seats near a window. Of course, you two were no longer talking with the weirdness that now clung to the atmosphere between you two. Jungkook sat with his legs spread eyes wide facing forward and his fingers drumming on his knee as he tried find the right words to say to you.

You sat next to him in deep thought, trying to recall if you had ever even told Tae about your aversion to heels. The whole thing was bizarre, but you weren’t sure you wanted to overthink such an innocent comment. Still, it was a weird assumption for him to make about a girl he didn’t know…

A few minutes into the ride, you had dozed off mid thought. The night had worn on you more than you had thought, causing you to slump against Jungkook’s shoulder. The boy stiffened when he felt your warmth invading his personal space. The goose bumps on his arm subsided as he melted into you involuntarily.

No matter how much he fought you mentally, it was as if his body had a mind of its own, unwilling to accept that you weren’t, in fact, the one for him.

He chewed on his bottom lip absentmindedly. He was tired too, wanting nothing more than to lean his head on you and close his eyes for a minute, just to see what it might feel like to be close to you the way he had wanted to be for so long.

He tried not to move too quickly so as not to wake you when he looked down at you. Your hair was spilling all over the left side of his body and it smelled wonderful. He couldn’t quite place the scent…something fruity?

If life was truly fair, he would’ve been able to drape his arm around you and warm you even further as you snuggled against his side. He would’ve taken you home, not because you were there for another man, but because you wanted to come home with him. He would’ve carried you upstairs and thrown you onto his bed before taking out the years of pent up emotions he had for you out on your body. He would’ve—

Jungkook shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but consequently

woke you up in the process.

You took a deep breath as you opened your eyes and stretched out. You had only fallen asleep for a few minutes, yet it felt like you were knocked out cold. And as soon as you realized you had been drooling on Jungkook, your entire face grew beet red. You sat up straight and looked away, feeling the heat radiating from your face. You couldn’t believe you had been so careless.

“C’mon, it’s our stop.”

Jungkook extended his hand out to you to help you up from the seat in your disoriented state. You hesitated before taking it, and when you did, he quickly pulled you into him and placed an arm around you, looking behind you two multiple times as you made it out of the subterranean area.

“Sorry, those guys back there were being total creeps.” Jungkook let you go and took a few steps away from you once you two made it out into the fresh air again.

You were disoriented to say the least, wondering why your heart had stuttered at being so close to another man. Close to Jungkook, no less. It bothered you to say the least.

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the clicking of your heels against the pavement as you both walked towards his house. It was only a few blocks from the train stop, so you both didn’t have to deal with the awkward silence for much longer.

As the house came into view, you both spotted Hobi sitting on the steps of the front porch. As soon as Jungkook saw him he stiffened, knowing fully well how something like this might seem now that Hobi was in the loop.

“Hey! Hobi, right?” You walked halfway up the stairs as the redhead smiled weakly at you.

“Yeah. Hey Y/N.” His eyes shifted in between you two suspiciously.

“Is Tae home?”

“Should be.”

You nodded, not knowing what to do with such short responses. You turned toward Jungkook who was at the bottom of the stairs. “Well, thanks for everything tonight. Ah, here you go.” You shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him. He took it and balled it up under his arm. “Well…goodnight I guess.” You looked in between the boys, feeling some weird tension and unable to help feeling like it was about you.

They both bid you a goodnight in unison and watched you go inside and close the door behind you. Hobi’s accusatory glare landed back on Jungkook, but the boy didn’t have any energy to argue, so he began jogging up the steps. As soon as he got to the top, Hobi caught his wrist.

“Can I talk to you?”

Jungkook licked his lips and sighed, taking a seat next to the older boy. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“When is it ever not what it looks like?” He lowered his voice, speaking more urgently, “Seriously Jungkook, if what you told me is true, you gotta stay away from her man. You’re playing with fire!”

“I’m really trying to hyung. I want to stay away from her but Tae insisted I be nice to her. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Well, be nice from far away!” Hobi snapped at Jungkook in a hushed tone, knowing how easily things could be heard in the quiet of the early hours.

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh unironically. He couldn’t believe his damn luck. Hobi stood up and stretched out, deciding to go back to bed.

“You coming?”

“Nah, I’m going to stay out here for a while.” Jungkook could only imagine what might be going on in the room right next to his. In any case, he didn’t want to hear a single thing.

Hobi left the boy in silence.

In the next few months that followed the night of clubbing with your friends, something strange started to occur. While Jungkook was gradually starting to have an easier time being around you, quite the opposite was the case for you.

You seemed to have started developing a sort of crush on Jeon Jungkook.

You knew it was harmless. People in committed relationships could have crushes that meant nothing. Still, you waited impatiently for your brain to get over it. But the pesky thing persevered, only seeming to find more reasons to like him every time you went over to hang out.

You found yourself overthinking the looks he threw your way, or the things he said to you in passing, even feeling nervous whenever you two were alone for a while. It was odd, because Jungkook wasn’t your type, yet here you were, finding yourself attracted to him.

You’d never admit this to anyone, since they would automatically think you were losing feelings for Tae, which just wasn’t true. You absolutely adored Tae and were thankful every day that you met him. You couldn’t imagine your life without him now and even looked forward to the day he decided to take your relationship a step further.

But now there were two men occupying your thoughts throughout the day, and it was disorienting, to say the least.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on this thing you had with Jungkook, however. You two seemed to get along so naturally. He was somehow able to finish your sentences without you two knowing each other for long. He was also unnaturally protective over you, but you didn’t mind at all.

And as Christmas approached, you found yourself wanting to text Jungkook to help you shop for Taehyung’s present. You figured if there was anyone in this world that might know Tae better than you did, it was Jungkook. Still, you weren’t sure it was a good idea, so you held off on it until a week before the holiday when you ultimately gave up and sent him a simple “You busy this weekend?” text.

Jungkook hadn’t read it until he awoke for work several hours later, groggily fisting his eyes as he double then triple checked the sender of this ominous text.

You never texted him. And he didn’t remember ever giving you his number.

A slow smile crept across his face. He fell back onto his bed holding his phone up above his face. He wished he hadn’t felt so giddy receiving a text from you, but no one was around to see his reaction, so he allowed himself to be happy briefly in the confines of his bedroom.

He wrote out several texts to you before ultimately deleting them, feeling like they sounded way too eager. He ended up going with a simple “I’m off on Sunday, whatsup?”

You received the message while you were helping yourself to some cup noodles in Tae’s room. You came over to see him, but he still wasn’t home yet, so you decided to wait for him in his room along with the dog that had quickly warmed up to you. You figured Jungkook was awake now since he texted you back, so you quickly made your way next door.

Three soft knocks on Jungkook’s door had him dropping his phone on his face. He winced and plucked the device off, rubbing his forehead as he made his way to the door. The last person he expected to be on the other side was you, clearly shown in the way he froze at the entrance.

Your eyes bulged when you realized Jungkook was wearing a pair of boxer briefs and nothing more. You tried to look away, but you had already seen him head to toe, causing you to blush immensely. He watched your flustered state for a moment before realizing he was almost naked in front of you.

“Shit, sorry.” He walked back into his room and threw on a pair of sweats that were flung on the floor. He wasn’t used to being modest in his own house, there were never girls here unless they had come to get laid by one of them.

“Oh, it’s okay.” You still couldn’t look him in the eye, so you spoke from the hallway. “I just got your text.”

“Oh, yeah whatsup?” Jungkook sat at the edge of his bed, wondering why you refused to come in.

“Well, it’s Christmas in a few days and I still haven’t gotten Tae a present. I was hoping you would come to the mall with me and help me pick something out for him.” Your voice was hopeful, which made it hard for Jungkook to turn you down.

It would be the first time you two hung out alone together since that night you came to the club. He had been doing a lot better these days being around you, making sure not to say anything weird and making sure you two weren’t alone for too long. Sometimes you’d pass each other in the hallway on the way to the bathroom, and he’d be thrown off seeing you in nothing but an oversized t-shirt. But he’d be able to pull himself together, simply because he had to. He was like a robot these days, following a careful script in his head and making sure he was never too close to you. It was causing a strain on him if he was being honest, but his friendship with Tae was worth all of it and more. So he’d endure, so long as you and Tae were happy together.

But hanging out with you alone was risky. He didn’t have a full proof plan on how to survive being alone with you for an extended period of time. His initial reaction was to say no, despite a part of himself desperately wanting to say yes. But as he looked at you from out in the hall, he knew he was doomed. He just couldn’t reject you; it wasn’t in him.

“And you save this for last minute?! The mall’s going to so crowded.”

You pouted and looked down at your feet, expecting to be scolded for being such a procrastinator. Jungkook smiled at your petulant expression. “Fine. But the mall closes early on Sundays so we should go in the afternoon.”

You beamed at him, not expecting him to give in so easily. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat seeing how happy it made you for him to agree to go.

“Okay, meet me there at 1. I’ll let you get ready for work now.” You skipped down the hall and back into Tae’s room, leaving Jungkook to get ready in an unnaturally happy mood. He wasn’t used to having a pep in his step as he got ready to work a shift, but then again, he wasn’t used to having you in his life.

Sunday came painfully slowly, which made sense because Jungkook was looking forward to it so much. He had thought about it night and day, wondering what to wear, wondering what topics you two could talk about, wondering how much time he had with you.

To be fair, he had also thought about what to get Tae for his birthday as well. It was easy to shop for the rest of the guys, they were simple. But after so many years of friendship and good presents, he just didn’t know what else to get for his best friend at this point. Maybe he’d find a good present while he was out shopping with you.

That did not happen, however.

You two had met up outside of the mall in the afternoon, but as soon as soon as you stepped inside, you quickly saw the pandemonium that awaited. Hordes of people pushed each other every which way as they sped walked to countless stores doing their last minute shopping. A thrill of fear shot through Jungkook. He very vividly remembered the day you discovered you were claustrophobic, and the anxiety you had developed because of it. He didn’t like the idea of you being here whatsoever, but before he could pitch alternative plans, you were pulling him along into the crowd, determined to find a good store.

Jungkook insisted you both stop into a video games store that he quickly spotted, not because he thought Taehyung would want something from in there, but because it would give you time to rest. He could already see the wild look in your eyes and the slight hyperventilation building up inside of you. You were trying to be brave, and he didn’t know how to tell you that you didn’t have to be.

Jungkook slipped out momentarily to get you something from the food court that might help. When he returned, you shook your head and lead him back into the chaos, but you two only made it to the end of the wing before your hands started clamming up. Jungkook noticed the signs right away and tugged you down a hallway with an exit. You burst through the doors, hunching over and taking deep breaths. You wiped your hands on your pants, struggling to breathe. Jungkook pulled out the brown paper bag he had gotten and held it out to you. He crouched down to meet your eyes, watching you as you breathed in and out carefully.

“Count for me.” You nodded and counted backwards from ten, closing your eyes as your heart rate slowly decreased. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Once you were calmer, you straightened up and handed Jungkook the bag. “Thanks. I’m sorry—” He held his hand up, not letting you apologize for things out of your control.

You were ashamed. You hadn’t experienced a panic attack in years, so you thought you could handle it, but clearly you were wrong. You were so grateful Jungkook knew exactly what to do, and that he was so patient. It instantly made you more comfortable, which was odd because the idea of telling anyone about our anxiety, even Tae, was ironically enough to make it flare up.

“Should we try a different place? I know some stores not too far from here that might have some cool stuff.”

You nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. And so you two set off to complete your mission for the day.

Jungkook took you to several places, watching you try and haggle down firm prices of expensive products. He hadn’t stopped chuckling since you two got together, finding everything you did absolutely charming. It was only when you two had stopped in a music store so that Jungkook could buy some new guitar picks that you finally realized what to get Tae. You’d watched him play the piano at school enough to know he should have one at home, or at least a keyboard, since you didn’t exactly have piano money at the moment.

And so Jungkook carried the instrument for you as you made your way home, still thinking about what to get for his best friend.

The idea came to him unexpectedly when he watched you try to hail a cab. You were flailing your arms wildly, even suck your leg out on the street like you’d seen in the movies. He felt so light being with you, so whole that it was scary to think himself without you.

And then the words he’d never wanted to admit came to his mind. Damn, I love this girl.

There, he said it. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. As much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t the case, he knew it to be true. Deep down inside, it was the ultimate truth he had tried so desperately to bury beneath layers of misguided hatred. He loved you, he always had, and he always would, and there was no getting rid of it.

It was then, as he felt freer than he had in years, that he realized what he had to do.

“Okay, Okay! Open the next present!” You bounced cheerfully on the rug, unable to hold back your excitement. You absolutely loved Christmas, especially Christmas with Tae. It was his favorite holiday, and subsequently it became your favorite too. His infectious holiday spirit always got to you and everyone else around him. And as you sat in his living room surrounded by all of his friends and a pile of presents, you couldn’t be happier.

Tae chuckled as he ruffled the top of your head. “Okay fine! Bring on more presents!”

You giggled and tugged on the huge box that had been expertly wrapped by yours truly. The boy’s eyes threatened to pop out of his skull. “Holy shit! This big one is for me!?” You nodded enthusiastically.

He impatiently ripped the wrapping paper away and gasped when he saw a corner of the piano exposed. “Babe, you didn’t.”

“I did!” You squealed as he tore the box open, stopping to give you a huge kiss when he saw that you did, in fact, get him a keyboard.

Jungkook looked away but smiled, knowing Taehyung would be happy to receive it as soon as you had picked it out at the music store.

Someone made a sound of disgust at the massive show of PDA, but the lovebirds simply chuckled, too wrapped up in each other to care. When Taehyung finally tore himself away from you, he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay. I’m about to open my last present, and babe, I don’t want you to be offended, but Jungkook always outdoes himself and everyone else every year.”

Jungkook grinned sheepishly, feeling a bit embarrassed at the introduction. His present this year wasn’t exactly over the top. He actually wasn’t sure how Tae would react to it. But nonetheless the boy handed him the simple envelope.

Tae looked at it and then at his friend, wondering what kind of present came in such simple packaging. He didn’t waste time opening it, but when he pulled out the simple piece of paper, he grew even more confused. He looked over at Jungkook for an explanation.

Jungkook cleared his throat, feeling a bit nervous. “It’s a plane ticket to Jeju. I’m moving there once our lease is up and I want you to come visit me when I do.”

Taehyung laughed, looking in between the plane ticket in his hands and Jungkook’s worried expression. “Come on man, stop playing.”

“I’m…not joking Tae.”

Utter silence followed his statement. Hobi was the first to look away, already knowing why Jungkook had decided to do something so rash. The rest of the boys looked in between each other, wondering if Jungkook had told any of them that he was leaving. Then they all looked at Tae, registering the hurt on his face. He couldn’t believe his best friend would make such a drastic decision like that without confiding in him. He had been picking up on Jungkook drifting from him lately, but he thought it might just be in his head. This confirmed that it wasn’t.

You had been shocked too, looking at Jungkook and the hardness in his jaw. He had been decided for some time now. You looked at your boyfriend, worried about how he was going to take this news.

“You’re…leaving?” Teahyung struggled to make sense of it. Jungkook never even talked about Jeju, or wanting to leave Seoul for that matter. It had always been you two against the world, but apparently that wasn’t the case after all.

“Uh…yeah. It’s sort of a last-minute thing…” Jungkook didn’t elaborate any more, not knowing what else to say. He couldn’t exactly say he was leaving because Tae was dating his soulmate.

“Well, thanks, I guess.” Tae got up and marched upstairs without another word. You all looked after him in worry. He definitely had not taken the news well. Jungkook felt dumb for even thinking that he might. He just felt that since Tae had met you, he was plenty happy and occupied these days, and wouldn’t have minded as much that Jungkook was leaving. Boy, was he wrong.

You couldn’t help looking at Jungkook who was now avoiding your gaze. You wanted to ask him where the hell this was all coming from, but your first priority was your boyfriend, so you got up and silently went upstairs to check up on him.

Someone made a whistling sound that caused some chuckling to erupt. These guys couldn’t take anything seriously to save their lives.

The rest of the gift giving session went on smoothly, with everyone choosing to ignore Jungkook’s sudden news.

In fact, the next two weeks had gone on much of the same. No one brought it up or even asked Jungkook about it, especially not Taehyung, which was due to the fact that he was completely ignoring Jungkook.

The curly haired boy had knocked on his door plenty of times since Christmas morning to have the inevitable talk, but Taehyung would either pretend he wasn’t in his room despite the door being locked or simply turn up the music really loudly and pretend he couldn’t hear. Whenever he’d run into Jungkook around the house, he’d simply turn around and walk out of the room.

Jungkook knew he deserved as much, but it was still weighing heavily on him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tae, which was the whole reason he was leaving in the first place.

New Years Eve had come around faster than anyone had been prepared for. You all liked to throw huge parties around this time, but it just didn’t feel right to have one this year with all of the tension in the house. Nonetheless, the boys dressed up and invited you to come watch the ball drop on TV.

Jungkook decided to work a shift that night in order to give Tae a chance to enjoy the evening with the rest of their friends. He hated working the holidays, especially since he already killed himself working so many hours regularly. But he sucked it up and went to work anyway, serving all of the lonely people without places to be on a holiday.

A few hours into his shift, he was surprised to see Lisa stopping by. She always had somewhere to be for the holidays, always some crazy rager worthy of legendary stories.

“What are you doing here?” The boy eyed her curiously. She certainly wasn’t dressed for work.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? When I heard you were working today, I had to come by and see for myself. Shouldn’t you be at your house throwing some crazy party I never get invited to?” The girl crossed her arms childishly.

Jungkook gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. I figured you always had somewhere to be anyway.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Lisa smiled as Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Come to my place when you’re done. No one should be alone tonight.” Lisa purred, her eyelids heavy as she attempted to persuade her crush to come to her party.

Jungkook thought carefully. Normally he’d decline right away, not even bothering to think of good excuses these days. But what reason did he have to keep turning her down? She was beautiful, and she wanted his company. He was single and he really didn’t have other plans. Plus, they wouldn’t be coworkers for much longer. Sure, he was in love with another woman, but that didn’t even matter when the woman he loved was unattainable.

The boy shifted on his feet, looking over his shoulder at Lisa’s expectant stare. “You’ve worn me down. Just text me your address.”

Lisa bit her lip, feeling giddy inside but trying hard to seem apathetic. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you later.” She turned swiftly on her feet and exited the club, rushing home to prepare for a night she hadn’t known would actually come.

Jungkook chuckled. He knew Lisa well and could tell she was overly excited about this. He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing she was way more into him than he was her, but it’s not like he was asking her to be his girlfriend or anything. It was just one night. One much needed night away from Tae’s pointed stares, his friends’ loaded silence and your intoxicating presence lingering everywhere he went.

He focused on getting through the rest of his shift, and by the time he had gotten home, you were all awake playing drinking games in the kitchen. The curly haired brunette had popped his head in to greet you all and the boys cheered to see their favorite bartender was finally home, well, all except for one.

He watched as Tae finished his drink and bid everyone a good night before going upstairs for the night. You followed right behind him, but not before stopping to wish Jungkook a happy new year.

“You as well.” Jungkook smiled at you, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. You look beautiful tonight. I love you.

He watched as you, too, went upstairs and disappeared into Tae’s room. His roommates continued playing beer pong as if nothing had happened. Jungkook watched for a bit, wishing things were different. He had been secretly hoping things might magically be smoothed over by tonight, and that you all would insist on hanging out together. But it seemed he would be going over to Lisa’s anyway.

He bounded up the steps quickly, not wanting to keep his conquest for the night waiting too long. He changed into something a little more festive before he heard those three soft knocks at his door that made his heart stop.

Jungkook checked his appearance again in the mirror before taking a deep breath and opening the door for you.

You smiled tentatively up at him. He was decent this time, you were happy to find.

“Can I come in?”

The question had caught him off guard, but even so, he moved aside and let you in, closing the door behind you.

“What’s up?” Jungkook tried to sound nonchalant, but his tone of voice still went up towards the end of his question.

“Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you.” You looked around his room, taking the setting in for the first time. His room turned out to be exactly as you expected, dark paint on the walls, his guitar on display, clothes strewn all around and band posters on the walls. You smiled at him as you sat on his bed, patting the seat next to you.

Jungkook instantly grew nervous. Normally when a girl sat on his bed and beckoned him over, it was under wildly different circumstances. He gulped, his heart racing as he took hesitant steps towards the bed. He sat down next to you, wiping his hands on his thighs as you turned to him.

“Talk about what?”

“You…and Tae.” Jungkook sighed, not knowing what else to say on the matter. “He’s really broken up about this, even if he’s not showing it. I know we haven’t been friends for long… but you can talk to me. What can I say to get you to stay?” Jungkook shook his head. You were simply trying to be a good girlfriend by getting him to stay, but Jungkook was trying to be a good friend by leaving. “I mean…Tae said you never do anything drastic without talking to him first. And he told me he felt like you two had been drifting apart for a while. Did something happen?”

Jungkook balled his fists at his knees. “Yes, and no. There’s nothing to say Y/N. I’m just leaving, and it’s final. I’ve been trying to find a way to apologize to him for springing this on him at Christmas, but he won’t let me. I don’t know what else to do.”

“…You can stay.” You smiled at him, but it only served to frustrate the boy more. You just didn’t understand, and you weren’t sure why he wasn’t allowing you to understand. “Jungkook, surely there has to be some reason that—“

Suddenly his lips were on yours, urgent and unrelenting. He effectively cut your sentence off when he leaned in and kissed you unexpectedly. He hadn’t planned it, it just happened in the moment. He also couldn’t think of a better way to convey how much of a problem it would be if he chose to stay, and rightfully so, he managed to alarm you as you shoved him off of you.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU—” His lips were on yours again, but this time, you didn’t have the restraint to fight him. You kissed him back hungrily. A million emotions coursed in between you both, lust, fear, happiness and pain amongst the more prominent ones.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him onto you greedy for more. His lips were like a wildfire igniting your body, molding perfectly into yours as you gasped for air. His hands on your body were hot, too hot against the goosebumps growing on your skin.

Your fingers found their way into his hair and tugged on the strands roughly as he bit your lip. He growled into the kiss, savoring how sweet you tasted. He was going out of his mind with his senses on overload. He felt nothing but you and smelled nothing but your perfume as he leaned into you, pulling your body against his. He also saw nothing but you and him together, living happily as destiny might have it. His tongue slipped into your mouth which you readily accepted, swirling yours around his as you traded saliva.

Jungkook had imagined this moment a million times, but never under these circumstances. He was finally getting what he wanted, but not in the right way, and because of that, he broke away from you, panting as you stared into each other’s eyes for an uninterrupted minute. His gaze on you loving while yours reflected nothing but wonderment.

You weren’t sure what the hell you were doing, you hadn’t yet asked yourself that, because you couldn’t answer your initial question when he first kissed you. Why did this feel so…right?

“That’s why I have to go.”

Jungkook sighed as you stared back at him dumbfoundedly. You reached your hand up to your lips that were still tingling, unable to believe what had just happened.

Jungkook expected you to leave, he expected you to be upset, but when you hadn’t budged, he felt himself slowly losing even more control than he already had tonight. He had to get you to go, before he did something else he’d be ashamed of.

“So, if that’s all, I have somewhere to be.” He looked away, hoping you got the hint.

You were caught off guard. Jungkook was so hot and cold that it left your head spinning sometimes. Nonetheless you tried to push through and get the answers you had come looking for.

“Jungkook… you don’t have to go. At least not tonight. Stay, we can—”

“No, I do have to go. Lisa’s waiting for me, so…”

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking at the boy who had now stood up and picked up his watch from his nightstand. Was he seriously thinking of other women while implying that he had to move because he had feelings for you?

You stood up, looking at the boy’s back incredulously. “So, you expect me to believe you have feelings for me while you’re running off to go sleep with someone else?”

“Weren’t you just warming Tae’s bed before you came to my room?”

Your eyes watered at the implication of his words. How dare he insinuate…

You turned on your heel and marched out of his room, unwilling to let him see you cry. Jungkook felt awful about what he just said and did, but he had no choice. Maybe now you would stay away from him and make his last few moments here as peaceful as possible.

Jungkook finished getting ready and left shortly afterward. He spent the night in Lisa’s bed as he intended to, and almost every other night afterward for the next two weeks.

You hated him. You hated him so much you could cry again just thinking about him.

You hated his floofy hair and his dingly earrings and his carefree smile. You hated the way he scrunched his nose whenever he didn’t like something, you hated the tight shirts he always wore. You hated the way his lips were so soft but his body was so hard, you hated how he kissed you and made you feel things that were confusing.

You prided yourself on having a simple life. You went to school and graduated on time, you had a long-term relationship that was precious to you, you even found a job that you liked and friends that you loved. And then there was Jungkook, an unsightly blotch in the mural of your life. You absolutely hated him.

Which was the reason why (you convinced yourself) you were standing outside of his bar on a Tuesday evening. The kiss had now happened months ago, but you were only now able to summon the courage to confront him with all of the things you wanted to say to him.

You had been avoiding him at all costs, holing yourself up in Tae’s room or just not coming over at all. But even when you were over, his room was always empty. You surmised he was back to his fuck boy behavior. It was all the same to you, at least he wasn’t in your hair anymore.

But now, you wanted to see him. You needed him to know that his kiss meant nothing to you and that he was an asshole for insinuating you were being a slut.

You also knew that this was his last day at work because he was leaving tomorrow, so it was now or never.

You sighed as you pushed open the doors of the club. Immediately upon entering, the smell of cigarettes overwhelmed you. There were very few people here, yet the lights still strobed, and the music still blared, albeit at a more respectable volume.

Your eyes found the bar immediately along with the tall brunette chucking playing cards into a glass cup. You clutched your purse straps and marched over to him, a look of determination in your eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes flew over to you as he got prepared to take your order, but quickly realized you weren’t a customer after all. He gulped, seeing the ferociousness in your demeanor.

“Hello JUNGKOOK.”

“Uh, hi.”

“I won’t be staying long. I just came here to say that…that our,” You looked around and lowered your voice, causing Jungkook’s lips to curl, “kiss, meant nothing. It was meaningless and it should’ve never happened. And, And you’re such an asshole because—”

“I know. I’m sorry.” You were caught off guard, losing track of your speech already. “I should’ve never kissed you and I should’ve never said what I said. It was unwarranted. And of course, the kiss meant nothing.”

You huffed, not sure about how to continue. You were expecting a fight. “Well, I just want you to know that I love Taehyung with all my heart—”

“I never doubted that for a second.”

You rolled your tongue around on the inside of your cheek. “Are you going to let me be mad here for a second!?” This time Jungkook smiled involuntarily. You were even adorable when you were pissed.

You sighed heavily, throwing your hands up in the air. “Well, I guess that’s all I came here to say, so…”

“Sit down. What are you having?”

You looked at Jungkook for a second and then the stool in front of him, wondering if you should stay. “I said I wasn’t going to stay long…”

“Do you have plans?”

“No…”

“Then sit. Drink with me.” Jungkook flashed you an infectious crooked smile and you couldn’t believe yourself as you put your purse down on the counter and plopped down in front of him. There was no use in being angry at him anymore now that you were both on the same page.

Jungkook poured two shots of tequila and plucked two limes from the jar of fruit. He placed one of each in front of you and lifted his own glass in front. You clinked your shot with his and threw the alcohol into the back of your throat, feeling the warm sting as it made its way down. With panicked dexterity, you quickly chomped down on the lime to get rid of the horrid aftertaste.

Jungkook scrunched his nose and shook his head. He wasn’t sure Tequila would be his thing, but it was his last day here, may as well drink the expensive stuff.

Suddenly one shot turned into two, which turned into four, which is when you found yourself trying your hand at shooting his cards.

You were absolutely drunk since you had skipped lunch at work. Jungkook had a higher tolerance, but he still had a mean buzz. He was having the time of his life watching you react every time your car didn’t fall into the cup. You were so dramatic, and he loved it.

“You have to flick your wrist. Flick your wrist!” Jungkook was demonstrating as you continued to miss.

“It’s not working! You’re an awful teacher!”

“Are you sure you’re not an awful student?”

“Both could be true at the same time.”

“I suppose, but that statement overlooks a key detail in this scenario.”

“Which is…?

“That I’m AWESOME!” Jungkook tossed a card at the cup that epically bounced off the rim and onto the floor. “NOOOOO! That was supposed to be my moment!!”

“You’re such a failure. So embarrassing. It’s a good thing you’re leaving town, can’t show your face around here after that disgrace.”

Jungkook laughed and flashed you the finger as he bent down to pick up all the cards from the floor. You hiccupped as you spun around in your chair, easily entertaining yourself when the world started to go fuzzy. You stopped to watch him shuffle the deck, feeling content as your body buzzed with a warm tingly feeling.

“So let me ask you something…”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Jungkook smiled down at his hands. “Because you’re my soulmate.”

You failed to stifle a laugh and so did Jungkook. He realized how ridiculous he must sound to you right now, but he figured why not throw caution to the wind. You probably wouldn’t remember anything he said to you by tomorrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been dreaming about you since I was nine.”

Your laughter was loud, too loud, drawing the attention of other people as they shot you rude looks. You snorted, unable to help yourself from laughing even more. Jungkook bit his lip, trying to stop himself from laughing too so that he could get his words out properly.

“Dreams? About me?” Jungkook nodded, leaning against the counter to meet you eye to eye. “Prove it then.”

“How can I prove it to you?”

“Well,” You tapped your finger against your chin, humoring the boy with the brunette, “if you’ve known about me for the last 15 years, thennnn, how many siblings do I have?”

“Three sisters.”

Damn, that was a good guess. You quirked a brow. “Impressive….thennnn, what was my favorite subject at school?”

“History.”

“Hmm, not so impressive because you might’ve known what my major in college was.”

“Oh, but you didn’t let me finish. History was your favorite because you’re a total dork, but we both know English class was your true favorite because you had a big fat crush on your teacher Mr. Townsend with the dreamy eyes. What was it you liked to call him? Mr. Cutie?”

You laughed again, keeling over the counter and banging your hand on the counter repeatedly. “OH MY GOD I forgot about him!!! He was soooo cute I could die!! Holy shit Jungkook. Did you go to school with me?” You gasped, realizing you’d be a pretty awful person not to recognize Jungkook if he was an old classmate.

The boy simply smiled and shook his head, chuckling at your dazed expression. You were definitely thinking all about Mr. Cutie now. Suddenly his eyes met the approaching figure getting closer and closer. Shit.

“Okay, come on darling. You’ve had a bit too much to drink. Time to go.” The security guard put his hand on your upper back and ushered you off the stool. You stared between him and Jungkook, stumbling a bit when you landed on your feet.

“WHAT!? I’m totally fine. Jungkook tell him!”

Jungkook looked in between you both, biting his lip. You were most definitely not fine. “Just go, but wait for me outside!” You stared at the boy who had run into the back, letting the security guard gently lead you out of the club. That traitor!

Once outside, you began walking up the block hiccupping as you unlocked your phone. For some reason, you remembered that you needed to buy toothpaste. You knew you wouldn’t remember in your inebriated state, so you called yourself and left a voicemail.

“Hey Y/N, it’s you, Y/N. Get toothpaste—”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Jungkook’s voice came up close behind you, and you panicked and put your phone down, forgetting to end the voicemail.

“No one! Hey, why aren’t you at work?”

“And miss this shit show? I wouldn’t forgive myself.” Jungkook smiled as he looked up at the starry sky. He was filled with an inexplicable peace and he didn’t know why. Was it because he was hanging out with you after months of being apart? Was it because he was buzzed, or because he was finally leaving tomorrow? Or was it because he was finally confessing to you?

You attempted to shove the boy but only managed to stumble again. Jungkook’s arms held you steady instantly, making sure you weren’t going to take a tumble out here for everyone to see. You were much too drunk to take public transport, so he decided to hail a cab instead.

Once the car pulled up to the curb, he held the door open for you as you got in and then followed your lead, giving the cab driver his address.

You turned to face him while smiling lazily. He mirrored your blissful expression, wondering what was going on in your head.

“Tell me more Mr. Wizard.”

Jungkook chuckled. “What do you want to know.”

“I want to know more reasons why you think a girl like me would be your soulmate.”

“I don’t think, I know.” Jungkook paused, wanting to give you a thoughtful answer, even if you were absolutely drunk. “Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. I look at you and the life you’ve lived, the things you’ve done for others and the things people should’ve done for you. You make me want to be a better person. The kind of person that would make sure you’d never hurt again.”

Jungkook smiled at you, but you could only look at him pensively. “And…you know all of this because of…your dreams?”

He nodded, his hair and earrings bouncing to and fro. “I think it was the universe’s way of answering a question I had when I was young.”

“Which was?”

“How to know when you’re in love.” Jungkook leaned back against the headrest, looking at you with sadness in his eyes. You leaned in closer to him without realizing, staring into his huge eyes full of so many secrets.

“For someone who’s never even taken a girl out on a date before, you seem awfully sure about this.” The boy smiled, licking his lips as he closed his eyes.

“Gimme a break! It’s not like I didn’t try. That day you came to Seoul with your class, I had been looking forward to it all week. I was so frustrated because I didn’t know where you would be, but I showed up anyway and looked for you, even bought you flowers.” He shook his head at the memory, feeling dumb for teenage Jungkook: the helpless romantic. “Guess I just didn’t want to deal with that disappointment again.”

You looked at Jungkook as the streetlights illuminated his face in iridescence. He looked so sad, and you couldn’t make sense of the words he was saying, but you felt he was speaking to you from the heart. You licked your own lips, only inches away from his face.

His eyes watched you carefully the closer you got. His mouth parted as your nose brushed against his and suddenly, he was whispering against your lips, “Y/N, you should stop. If you continue, I don’t think I’ll have the strength to stop myself this time.”

You swallowed involuntarily, the edges of your lips brushing against his pillowy ones. He was absolutely right, and you were grateful that one of you had the sense to say what needed to be said.

You looked up into his blown-out pupils and imagined what might happened if you simply pressed your lips into his. You saw him taking hold of your face and pressing you against the backseat, curling your leg around his waist as he stuck his tongue into your waiting mouth. You saw yourself loving every bit of the way his hands would grope you, his mouth whispering dirty things against your skin. You’d love it a little too much, but maybe not in the morning when you’d realize what you’d done. So you inched away from him and took a deep clearing breath. Jungkook did the same, looking out of his window for the remainder of the ride home while reminding himself that he was leaving tomorrow, over and over again.

Jungkook hadn’t seen his room this empty in years.

When he first moved into the house, he didn’t have much money to his name, content with sleeping on a tiny air mattress set up in the corner with a lamp and a laptop, both of which were also on the floor. He struggled to remember that overused quote while reminiscing. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

He had already shipped out his belongings prior, even sent you a special package that he should’ve gotten rid of ages ago. His empty room served as a good parallel for how he felt. He was starting anew and felt a little empty inside as he cut off important ties, but the prospect of starting over was all he could put his faith in now.

And now all that was left to take was his packed-up guitar and a duffle bag that sat neatly out of the way as he took a picture to look back on later.

He was wracked with melancholy at his final moments in this house and in his favorite city. He did want to leave and start anew somewhere else, if only for his own peace of mind, but not being able to make things right with his best friend before leaving tainted everything. He never wanted to leave like this.

A few knocks at doorway had Jungkook quickly turning around. Hobi stood at the entrance holding the excited pitbull in his arms. He placed the scrappy dog on its feet and off it went, bounding excitedly into Jungkook’s awaiting arms. His heart hurt as he scratched the backs of its ears. This would be one of the things he missed doing the most.

“So, you’re leaving soon, yeah?”

Jungkook nodded, standing up as Hobi approached him. The redhead took him in for an embrace, patting his back momentarily.

“For the record, I think you’re doing the right thing man.” Jungkook nodded again, trying to make himself believe the words too.

“Hey.” A soft greeting from the doorway startled both Hobi and Jungkook. He knew Tae was home, but he hadn’t expected him to stop by, not with the way he persisted on being mad at him for so long.

“Hey.” Jungkook’s voice was horse. Hobi gave the younger boy a reassuring smile before leaving and giving them some privacy. Tae regarded him warily as he leaned against the door frame, trying to decide if he should enter, and ultimately deciding to do so.

“So, today’s the day huh?”

“Flight leaves in an hour.”

Tae nodded, looking around at the vast empty space. It hurt him to see it so empty for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Tae sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, struggling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

“I know. It’s just something I have to do.”

Tae nodded, even though he didn’t agree, or understand for that matter. He sniffed, frowning as he made a last-minute decision to blow up on Jungkook after all.

“Fuck you, that’s such bullshit! You never wanted to leave Seoul. And all of a sudden, it’s a done deal. You didn’t even talk to me about it! And you talk to me about everything! What the fuck happened to us? What, I get a girlfriend and all of a sudden I’m not a good enough friend to you?! What the fuck is even waiting for you at Jeju?? Do you even know anyone there?! I’m your best friend and I don’t even know your new address!”

Jungkook winced as Tae’s voice only got higher the longer he went on, but he stood and took the scolding, knowing he deserved every bit of it.

“I’m sorr—”

“And then you have the nerve to tell me on Christmas, as if I’m supposed to be happy that you’re leaving, as if that was supposed to be a gift to me. That was fucked up!”

“I know, I’m sorr—”

“And you didn’t even take the trash out last Thursday even though it was your chore day. GOD YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!”

Taehyung huffed, running out of things to complain about. Jungkook’s mouth twitched, wanting so badly not to fuck himself over by laughing at Tae right now. Though, he couldn’t help but notice how similar you and Tae were when you were angry. The ridiculous image of you two fighting was distracting to say the least.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry, still doesn’t make this any less shittier.”

“I know.”

“GOD, STOP SAYING YOU KNOW!” Tae slumped down the wall until his butt hit the floor. Jungkook hesitated before going over to sit by him. They both sat in silence for a while, feeling a flurry of emotions. After a while, Jungkook smiled and pointed at a chip in the door frame.

“Remember when Yoongi got so drunk that we had to put him into the shower, but he held onto my door frame so hard while we were dragging him out that he broke it a little?”

Taehyung looked over at the indent and smiled, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. He nodded, remembering the hectic night. The boys had all been scared of Yoongi after that, knowing he could easily knock them out with that strength of his if they ever pissed him off enough. Tae’s eyes wandered along the room, catching the distinct black mark where the bed used to be.

“Remember when you were really into hookah for a while and that sorority girl you brought over that one time dropped the coal on the floor and didn’t tell you?”

Jungkook laughed, nodding as he remembered how furious he was when he saw the damaged that she had tried to cover up poorly.

“Oh god, remember her weird sister? What was her name again?”

“Floosy Susan?”

“FLOOSY SUSAN! How could I forget! What do you think she’s up to nowadays?”

“Still fisting forties and picking up bikers probably.” Taehyung shivered, remembering the very aggressive way she cornered him in the bathroom once.

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows at him, recalling the story she had told everyone about what happened that night which turned out not to be true at all. Taehyung chuckled and pushed Jungkook over.

��Man, we used to have so much fun. What happened?”

“I don’t know. Life, I guess. You got castrated and I picked up more hours at work.”

“Fuck you.” Tae chuckled some more, running his fingers through his hair. It was silent for a while as he chose his next few words carefully. “Are you leaving because of me? If it’s something I did—”

“No. It’s not you.” Jungkook sighed, looking at his friend with torture in his eyes. “Tae I— I’m…in love with Y/N.” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up as he searched Jungkook’s face for any ounce of joking. “I have been for a long time, even before you met her. I thought I could deal with it, but it’s been too hard. So I figured it’d be better if I just removed myself from the equation and started new somewhere else, at least for a while.”

More silence ensued as Taehyung processed what Jungkook was telling him. He was angry at first, his baser instinct telling him to accuse Jungkook of being a shitty friend, which he knew was unreasonable. Then he was sad, realizing how much this made sense when he thought about the last couple months.

“Fuck man…I don’t know what to say. Since before I met her?”

Jungkook nodded, leaning his head on the wall as he silently cursed his own bad luck that Tae had gotten to you first.

“It doesn’t matter how, or when, really. Because I see how good you two are together. I don’t want to ruin that. But it’s too hard for me to stay and…watch her build a life with someone that’s not me.” Jungkook sighed and turned to his friend. “I’m sorry, this must feel really shitty to hear.”

Taehyung shook his head. He was at a loss for words. Out of all the reasons he had conjured up to explain their decline in friendship, this had never crossed his mind.

“Shit, I’m sorry I made you play wingman, practically forced you to spend time together when you didn’t want to.” Tae threw his head back into the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like an idiot.

“Eh, you didn’t exactly force me. You know I’ll always be your wingman no matter what.” Jungkook held up his fist for Taehyung to bump. His friend smiled weakly before touching his knuckles to Jungkook’s.

Suddenly the blonde sighed, looking at Jungkook with a serious expression. “Do you…want me to step aside?”

Jungkook froze, unable to believe the words that had just come out of Taehyung’s mouth. “Of course, I don’t want you to do that. What the fuck kind of question is that!? You guys are madly in love.”

“Oh thank god. I really did not want to.”

The boys busted out laughing, holding their sides and rolling over on the floor in tears.

“You’re such a piece of shit.” Jungkook could barely get his insult out in between laughs.

Suddenly Jungkook’s phone buzzed, signaling his Uber approaching the house.

“Ah, my ride’s here.” Jungkook stood up and looped his guitar strap over his shoulder. He realized Tae hadn’t heard him, since the boy had stepped out to take a phone call, so he quietly made his way down the stairs after giving his dog a goodbye scratch. He hated elaborate goodbyes anyway. And besides, he knew Tae would definitely use the plane ticket the first chance he got free time off of school and work.

“Hey babe!” Your sing-song voice rang through Taehyung’s receiver, putting a big smile on the boy’s face.

“Hey you. Are you coming over?”

“Yep! I’m about to leave my house right now. Did we need anything else? I already got the noodles and the hoisin.”

“Nah, we should be fine. Just hurry up and get here already, I miss you.”

You smiled cheesily, looking down at your feet as you walked up to your mailbox. You nodded, and realized he couldn’t see you, so you chirped an okay before hanging up.

You had slept all day recovering from your hang over. You couldn’t believe you had gone to Jungkook’s club to argue with him but ended up getting waste instead. You were happy that you were no longer on bad terms with him though, so you supposed it was a good idea in the end. Of course, you didn’t remember much after the first two shots, so you hoped that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much. You wondered if Jungkook would still be home or if he would’ve left already. You were hoping to catch him so you could say a proper goodbye. It would be embarrassing if the last time he saw you was you drunk off your ass.

As you opened up your mailbox, a package addressed to you fell out. You bent down to pick it up, unable to recall if you ordered anything recently. You quickly tore the envelope open and pulled out what looked to be a sketch pad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, double checking the name on the package. It was definitely for you. Hmm.

You began flipping through it. Countless images of a girl of all different ages flashed in between your hands. Upon looking closer, they all seemed to be of you. You recalled the buns, and the uniform, and the sunhat, even the pajamas you had worn for years before they were ripped in too many places.

You gasped, looking over your shoulder. Were you being stalked? This was so creepy you didn’t even know where to begin. You couldn’t tell who sent the package. You were hoping this was a surprise from Tae, so you pulled your phone out to call him back, but a small red bubble signaled that you had an unheard voicemail and it caught your attention. You didn’t remember missing anyone’s phone call.

Ah, it’s from yourself! You furrowed your eyebrows and hit play, holding your phone up to your ear to see what drunk Y/N might have to say at a time like this.

But the longer you listened, the more you began to understand. Your eyebrows shot up as you dropped your grocery bags onto the pavement, listening to Jungkook spill his heart out to you. Your eyes watered, hearing the longing in his voice. And the things he was saying… your knees threatened to buckle underneath your own weight. You opened the book again, looking at the dates on the corners of the pages. Some drawings were vivid enough to make you recall memories you had long forgotten about. The message ended, so you hit replay, again, and then again.

Suddenly you were quickly scrolling through your apps to call for a ride, praying you would make it to Jungkook in time.

Jungkook spent the 40-minute ride from his old house to Incheon listening to music and thinking about you and his dog. He wondered if he might start dreaming about you again, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t, since it would be counterproductive to him leaving. He needed a clean break.

He also hoped Tae would take his advice about what pet food to buy. Tae had a tendency of spoiling his dog with terrible food choices.

As he exited the vehicle and secured his belongings, he thanked his driver for the ride and headed into the airport that awaited to take him to an island he’d never been to before. He tried to picture himself there already, wondering if he’d fit in well enough and if he’d make any friends right away.

“Jungkook!”

The boy stopped walking and yanked his headphones off of his ears, wondering if he had imagined someone calling his name.

“Jungkook!”

He turned around, only to find you right behind him. His eyes grew wide as he wondered what you were doing here.

“You… you dream about me. No, you’ve been dreaming about me, for a long time. Why didn’t you—”

“Why didn’t I say anything?” Jungkook huffed, looking around incredulously. “C’mon Y/N. Why would I?”

“Jungkook…”

“Save me the pity party. I didn’t tell you all of that so you’d feel bad.”

“No, stop! This isn’t that. You’re just…you’re just leaving! You believe I’m your soulmate, but you won’t even fight for me. God, you make me so mad!” Your eyes grew misty as you balled your fist at your sides.

“Yeah, I know it in my heart that you are, no, in my bones, in my very being. In all that I am, it all just comes down to you. Hell, soulmate might not even cover it Y/N.” Jungkook’s eyes began to water as well and you looked away, a few tears spilling when you blinked. “But Taehyung is just as important to me, if not more. He’s my soulmate too, and I choose him. You should too.”

You wiped at your cheeks hastily, breathing shallowly as you tried not to sob here in the airport in front of all these people. You nodded, trying to put a smile on your face. Of course you’d choose Tae, so why did it feel as though your heart was breaking in two?

Jungkook watched as your face began to break. He crossed the distance in between you, placing his hand behind your head, bringing you into his chest. You let out a few sobs as you clutched onto his shirt. Your entire frame began to shake, so he put his luggage down to hold you in his arms properly. He kissed the top of your head as he tried to focus on not crying too. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave if he stayed here with you any longer, so he backed away and gave you a weak smile before turning around and blending into the crowd of people heading in to check in.

You cover your face with your hands, willing yourself to stop crying so hard. When you could no longer see the top of Jungkook’s head, you wiped your nose and left just as you came.

901 notes · View notes

lumina-rose · 3 years

Text

Tear You Apart

Chapter 3/4

AO3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32168824/chapters/80048179

Pairing:

Laszlo x Reader

Summary:

Mere months after the conclusion of the Beecham case, Dr.Kreizler and his associates are asked once again to solve a new series of murders that plague the streets of New York. They are joined by the alienist’s new assistant, who’s presence soon unravels startling revelations. Not only within the case, but also within the mind of one of their own.

(This story is set between the events of Season 1 and Season 2)

Warnings:

Murder Mystery, Graphic Description of Corpses, slight dark!Laszlo (kinda. Think Will “This is my design” Graham), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Minor Violence, Friends to Lovers,Assistant, Boss/Employee Relationship,Tension, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining, Kidnapping, Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Abuse

(More Future Warnings TBD)

Notes:

Adding an extra warning for this chapter, just in case.

This chapter deals with themes of violence, kidnapping, captivity, non-consensual touching, non-consensual groping, and implied abuse.

Chapter 3: Lily

Dr. Kreizler was not a man who considered himself superstitious.

Ever since he was a boy, he clung to his curiosity, searching for answers through science rather than religion in order to understand the world around him, even if it left his reputation tarnished to the more traditionally-raised, God-fearing socialites of New York. Yet, even as a child, there had always been a darkness that surrounded him, drawing in trouble wherever he went. No, Laszlo was not superstitious, but there seemed no other term to describe himself other than cursed.

You had been missing for two days, and even logic and reason could not explain why history seemed destined to repeat itself.

Following your night at the opera, Kreizler had thought it odd that you had not appeared at the Institute the following day. You had not seemed unwell, during your outing- quite the opposite, actually- and yet the fact remained that your presence was notably absent. At first, the alienist pushed his worry aside. After all, you had spent what was supposed to be a night of rest by his side. He reasoned that perhaps you had simply drained yourself, driving yourself to exhaustion with both the investigation and the concern you had displayed for him. But what truthfully unsettled him was the lack of warning of your absence. It was unlike you.

Regardless, even with your absence, Kreizler quickly worked through the day's sessions and duties, leaving most of the day free to continue working on the investigation. Your theory the day before had intrigued him, and gave valuable insight into what the killer's motives and background could be. With a newfound momentum, Laszlo called for Stevie, sending the ward to gather his colleagues here at the Institute, in order to follow this new train of thought. He also instructed Stevie to find you, deciding that it would be best to check on you, if only to calm his own anxieties. With that, all that was left to do was wait.

Marcus and Lucius were the first to arrive, punctual as always. Not wishing to waste any time, the twins immediately went to discuss their new findings with the doctor, picking out bits of information that may be relevant to figuring out the killer's identity. Kreizler listened, drawing connections to their findings with the theory you had created. John was the next to arrive, quickly followed by Sara. The two had not had much to work with, in terms of narrowing down who the killer may be, but found a couple police reports and articles that had spoken about similar incidents. Laszlo nodded, giving his own opinions and comments occasionally, but his mind continued to drift elsewhere. He had pulled out his pocket watch, when he heard a new set of footsteps. Quickly, he looked up, only to see Stevie once again. Ushering the boy inside, he asked if he had found you.

"I tried, Dr. Kreizler, but I couldn't find her anywhere." Stevie explained. "Even went by the house a few times, but no one ever answered. Her door was locked, so I thought maybe she came back here."

Laszlo sighed, audibly upset by the news. "Right, thank you Stevie."

This caught the attention of everyone in the room. After the boy left the room, Sara turned to Laszlo.

"Has something happened?" She asked, sensing Laszlo's growing worry. "How long has she been missing?"

The alienist simply shook his head. "Since this morning. At first I thought I was simply overreacting, but now I'm not so sure..."

Saying his admission aloud, Laszlo realized how troubling the whole situation had seemed. He explained where you had been last night, and how Kreizler had made sure to get you home safely after the opera, only to find that you had not come to the Institute today. John stood up from his seat, sending a glance to Sara and the brothers. They stayed silent, throwing silent glances back and forth, as if talking through looks alone. Finally, Sara stepped forward.

"I believe we should go to her home, ourselves. If we find that she is safe, then we can continue our investigation."

"What're you saying?" Lucius interjected, stunned by Sara's proposal. "What would you have us do? Having the five of us show up unannounced to (y/n)'s home might be an overreaction, considering it hasn't even been a day."

"You may be right," Sara starts. "but I'd like to make sure nothing has happened to her. I won't be able to shed the guilt if the worst has come."

Laszlo's heart sank at her words, reminding him of the very same doubts and worries he had told you of the night before.

Moving quickly, Laszlo went to grab his jacket, placing it on as he spoke. "I'm going-"

Once more, Lucius was wary. "Dr. Kreizler-"

"-stay here if you must, Lucius." He turned, leaving no room for argument as he walked towards the exit.

Reluctantly, Lucius followed after Laszlo, with Marcus's hand on his shoulder. Sara and John were already standing, ready to leave with the doctor, the same memory of the Beecham case fresh in their mind. With that, it didn't take long for them to reach your home, a mere few blocks away from the Institute. It was a relatively small building, not like the towering apartments that surrounded it on either side. It was as though someone had taken a cottage from the countryside and placed it right on the streets of New York.

There were no lights on, by the windows. A fact that shouldn't have been strange, considering it was now late into the day. Even so, it caused a sense of looming dread to enter Laszlo's mind. It felt so similar when he had returned to his own home all those months ago, as though time was repeating itself. First with Mary, now with you. As the group called and knocked on your door, drawing the scrutinizing and curious stares of the people passing by, Laszlo concluded that he must have been cursed. How else could he explain the events unfolding? Truly, everyone that was drawn towards him seemed destined to either leave or be taken from him.

There had been one thing that gave him hope that it would be different.

With Mary, she had been a constant, comforting presence. What he felt towards her had not always been there, not until much later after their first interactions, but it had been a source of happiness and warmth. The feeling of being known so completely, without needing so much as a word being spoken. Mary had brought out a kindness in him that even he had feared he did not possess. It had been sweet and somewhat innocent love, regardless of the rather unusual dynamic.

With you, it was a similar feeling, but not entirely the same. Where his feelings for Mary were more subtle, there had always been an underlying want in his relationship with you. At first, it had simply been a need to understand you. How you could be so similar to him, sharing that same curiosity for the human mind, yet still be able to catch him by surprise with your insights. He wanted to know about you, every little detail. Learning what made you tick, what made you happy, and what parts of your mind you had not shown to anyone else. Yet, even that wasn't enough. It wasn't until much recently, had Laszlo deduced the source of this incessant need for you. Where his feelings for Mary had made him recognize the lighter side of him, you made him realize that perhaps the darkness there was deeper than he knew. But he welcomed that new feeling just as enthusiastically, after the events of the opera.

What he felt for Mary and for you were very different, but just as intense. He had hoped, foolishly, that those differences would change something. And yet it seemed as if history was playing out again, as it had before.

"Unlock the door."

Laszlo's words were met with hesitation by the group, before they noticed the clear distress in his expression. Marcus nodded, placing the bag he held down in front of the door, before crouching down to pick the lock. Once unlocked, Sara opened the door, leaning in through the frame to look inside. From what she could tell, the study and kitchen were empty, and she could hear no sounds of movement, even after she called your name. Slowly, one-by-one, the five of them entered your home.

"Marcus and I will check upstairs," Sara decided, earning a nod from the Isaacson brother. "I believe there are a few rooms further back."

As they split up inside the house, Laszlo found himself at a loss. Although he had stopped by a couple of times, he had never truly taken the time to examine the home. Outside of the paintings that decorated the walls and the furniture provided to you, the home was extremely bare. Only a handful of personal items were scattered about, as well as a couple of books he had given you to read. For each and every room the doctor passed, it dawned on him that you had not been exaggerating when you had told him you dropped everything to move to New York. He wondered just how much you had left behind.

"Dr. Kreizler!"

Marcus's voice called out, clearly alarmed, causing the air to still throughout the house. Rushing upstairs, John, Lucius, and Laszlo all went to join Marcus and Sara, only stopping once they saw the man exit what appeared to be your bedroom. A small bouquet of roses in his hands.

You awoke with your eyes closed. The only thing grounding you to reality was the steady, throbbing pulse in the back of your head, causing a dull ache to pass over you with every beat. With a low groan, you blinked, as you thought about how rough work at the Institute was going to be, if this headache was going to plague you. As you shot up from the bed, letting out a painful cry, you went to raise your hand to you head. Only for them to be pulled back harshly, by a binding pressure against your wrists.

You blinked, and suddenly the pain in your head was in the back of your mind. Your eyes shot to your hands, ignoring the sting of the sudden action. A bundle of knots bound you, as a rope dug into your skin, leashing you to the unfamiliar bed frame behind you.

No. no. no no no. You thought in a panic, realizing the gravity of your current situation.

You took in your surroundings, seated on a small bed in the center of a room. There were no windows, and only a small lamp by the door lit the small space. The walls were bare, save for the portrait of a young woman. The only exit was a wooden door, with cracks forming from the bottom. Your heart racing, you tried to recall your memory of the events last night. What had happened to you? Where were you? Who brought you here?

You remembered the opera, and your pleasant time with Laszlo there, and how he had escorted you back to your home. So why couldn't you remember falling asleep there? Why were you still wearing the same dress you had spent hours deciding on? You had watched the carriage ride far out of sight, Stevie at the reins. You had opened the door to your home, without the use of your key, as it had been unlocked already.

Unlocked. Despite having purposefully locked it before leaving for the night.

"Stupid." Your breath hitched, as you cursed yourself for not noticing such a mistake. You hadn't even realized. Too giddy and tired from the emotional events of the opera.

Your heart raced, as you grew more and more frustrated, causing you to tug at your bindings. But no luck came. You thought back to what you did after entering your home. You had placed a few things down, before retiring to your bedroom, in order to change into your night clothes and sleep. But you never made it that far. In a sudden moment of clarity, a memory returned to you. You had sat down in front of your vanity mirror, before noticing a flash of red in the mirror. A bouquet of roses. Perhaps it was the fear and shock of the realization that the killer they’d been hunting had been in your home that caused you to lose consciousness. However, the pain in your head suggested otherwise.

Whatever the case was, you were now trapped in a room, after being taken from your home by the very person you had spent months trying to find. But aside from the distressing predicament of your kidnapping, what unsettled you most was the sudden deviation in behavior. If you truly had been taken by the killer you were searching for, why were you still alive? Why did he take you? What did he plan to do to you?

You didn't want to wait to find out, but found that you had little choice in the matter. No matter how many times you tugged and pulled at your bindings, the restraint never weakened. You had tried untying the knots on the bed frame, in hopes that you may be able to escape, even if your hands were tied together. The knots however, were tight and overlapping each other, and no amount of strength that you possessed could undo them. In desperation, you looked at the wooden door, knowing that it was all that stood between you and freedom. If you only could unbind your hands. But even if you had escaped, you didn't know where you were, or who's home you were in.

The answer didn't come till what felt like hours later. You had sat yourself up into a more comfortable position on the bed, where the rope would not pull at your now-aching wrists, and jumped as the wooden door suddenly opened.

Your heart leapt to your throat, and all you could seem to do was stare at the figure in the doorway. You were shocked. Your were speechless. You wanted to deny it, to try and lie to yourself by saying that he couldn't be the one who took you. That his presence here was merely some miraculous coincidence. But you weren't that naive. Still, never had you thought the same man who would regularly stop by your house could potentially be a murderer.

"Mr. Arnett." You breathed out, finally.

"Good evening, my dear." He greeted, his tone just as casual as any other time you had spoken. As though it was normal, to have you tied up in a room against your will.

As he stepped into the room, you found yourself growing more and more anxious with each of his steps. He had asked you something, a question you couldn't recall. You couldn't even find it within you to respond, knowing that anything you said might make your situation worse. If Arnett truly was the same man who’d been killing the women of New York, then it’s likely he’d have no issue using that same violence against you. Although, he had already changed his behavior, choosing to attack you in your own home, rather than on the street. That alone revealed that he was unpredictable.

"What..what am I doing here?" You asked, fearfully. You wanted your tone to come off as more questioning, rather than upset. You knew that if Laszlo’s theory was correct, the only reason you weren’t dead yet was because the fantasy behind the murders relied on your acceptance of the man. Still unsure of his intentions with you, you shuddered at the thought of letting the man do whatever he wanted.

"I'm taking care of you."

The vagueness of the answer, and the emptiness in his tone, as he spoke sent a wave of fear over you. The man took a step towards you, right next to the bed you were tied to. You sat up, moving away from him, by instinct. You had hardly noticed the tray Arnett had been carrying, until he placed it down on the foot of the bed. A wide assortment of fruits, breads, and foods were placed onto the tray, along with a single red rose. Taking a seat next to you, he lifted something off of the item.

"A strawberry, from my garden." He explained, as though that was the cause of your nervous behavior.

You didn’t feel hungry, but felt a sense of relief at the act. Only because that meant he didn’t plan on harming you…yet. Once more, he placed the strawberry up to your lips.

Arnett's jaw tensed, as he spoke again. This time he sounded as though he were trying to restrain himself. "You don't need to be afraid of me."

Afraid to anger him, you took a bite, before attempting to distance yourself from him further, if that were even possible at this point. He praised you for the action, as an owner would praise a pet. Bitterness rose from your chest, creating a bad taste in your mouth. Whether it was the fruit he gave you, or the reaction you had to his words, you weren't sure.

"See, I knew you'd be good," He spoke, condescendingly. "just like my Lily."

You swallowed back a grimace. "Lily?"

Arnett blinked, as if confused for a moment, before giving a forced chuckle. His eyes turned to the portrait in the room, of the young woman. "I must apologize, it's rather rude of me to compare you to my wife- ex-wife. "

He quickly corrected himself, before looking back at you, his eyes falling to your wrists. More specifically, the red burns on them, from your previous attempts at escape. He reached out, without warning, before scolding you profusely. He spoke only about how should be more careful, as to not harm yourself further. In your upset state, you didn't even think before instinctively ripping your hands from his hold, not wanting him to so much as touch you.

Arnett's almost-caring expression fell in an instant, before revealing an angered scowl. He grabbed your arms again, only now his grip was harsh and painful. There was no doubt in your mind that you would have bruises later.

"Don't do that." He hissed. "Don't you ever do that!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You gasped, shaking as you quickly apologized in an attempt to calm his sudden temper. Blinking, you searched for any excuse that might help you. "I'm sorry.. I.. It's inappropriate, I wasn't expecting you to.."

Once more, you cursed yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse. However, even as you closed your eyes, you felt the grip on your hand lose its hold. When you looked back at Arnett, his scowl had disappeared. He thought for a moment, before a slight smile crept over his lips.

"You don't need to worry about such things anymore, my dear." He sighed. "Now that you're here with me, you won't have to feign innocence for the sake of appearances. We can speak freely now."

As you stared into his eyes, you came to understand that in some twisted way, his mind had made up a lie: making him believe you held some form of silent connection with him. Twisting your interactions into subtle advances, when they had merely been polite conversations. Every small talk in the study of your home, he had taken it as a sign of reciprocated affections. Rather than what they were. And he truly believed that lie, which was what frightened you the most.

You were silent, as he ran a thumb over your injured hand. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but you viewed it more as a threat. You knew that if you pulled your hands way, as you wanted to, you'd be met with more aggression. Eventually, his focus returned to the tray he had brought in, handing you the rose as he placed another fruit to your mouth. You were fighting back a mixture of emotions, as you attempted to process the situation. You wanted to snap, and tell him that he didn't need to feed you himself. You wanted kick and fight, if only to save your pride. But you knew that none of these actions would help you, and would more likely cause Arnett to harm you.

Instead, you tried to refocus your frustrations into questioning Arnett's plan for you.

"Mr. Arnett, I..I find myself at..at a loss as to why you've brought me here." You muttered, weakly. "Surely, it's not simply to 'speak freely', as you put it? I can't help but think there is another reason.."

The older man scoffed, as if surprised you even had to ask.

"Well, I've been left with no other choice, haven't I? You're forced to spend every day and night fretting over the little problems of a half-crazed alienist, who insists on keeping you by his side." He grit his teeth, looking around the room for a moment. "But that no longer matters. You won’t need to worry anymore about Kreizler taking his liberties with you, my dear."

The bruising grasp on your hand returned. His voice and expression reflected anger, though it didn't seem directed at you this time. His eyes were still staring off at nothing in particular, and it seemed as though he wasn't even aware of the venom in his tone. Ignoring your pain for a moment, you feared what he meant, upon mentioning Laszlo. Was he merely speaking his suspicions out of a jealous delusion? Or had he known- had he seen- your actions with Laszlo at the opera last night?

You let out another pained gasp, causing Arnett to release his hold on you. This time, he stood up, staring down at you with regret and fear. Almost dejectedly, he grabbed the tray once more, and made his way back towards the wooden door. But not without looking back at the portrait once more.

"Lily was as delicate as you."

A time passed before the door opened again.

You had fought to stay awake, in order to try and defend yourself against Arnett, even though you were essentially at his mercy. But the reality was that you were exhausted. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. The stress of the case, Laszlo, and your own current situation had left you utterly broken. As sleep came for you, your eyes fogged with tears, as you thought back to the happiness you felt just a night before.

When you finally awoke, you heard a loud thud, as though something had fallen somewhere in the building you were being kept in. Your heart pounded, half hopeful and half afraid. The wooden door to the dim room opened, your heart sinking as you faced Arnett once more, his face red with anger as he began yelling out, seething with every breath.

"He comes to my place of work, accusing me!"

Arnett raves, red in the face, as he circles around the room. His sentences slur together, his words coming out faster than you can understand them. You sit up quickly, bracing yourself, as it's all you can do in the moment. The man's eyes were wide and his gaze flicked from place to place, as if searching for something as he continued to ramble on. You noticed how his hands were clenched, his fingernails digging into his palms and his knuckles becoming a white color. Fearing what he may do, you kept your mouth shut, hoping in vain that he might forget that you're there.

"-Slandering my name and reputation!” He heaved out a heavy breath, before his stare finally finds its destination on you.

Whatever pleasant facade the man placed on for you before was gone now, overcome by his anger. He rushed forwards, pushing you back against the headboard of the bed, placing a hand on your face, pressing hard on your cheeks and jaw. Startled, you froze, unable to even move, except for the trembling throughout your body.

"Who is he to you?" He demanded, an accusatory glare cutting through you.

You choked out a reply, asking who or what he was talking about. That only made his grip stronger, squeezing against your bones enough to make them ache.

“That damned Kreizler!” He spat. “Is he truly so dependent on you, that he cannot go a single day without you?! Is your company so enjoyable that he cannot help himself?”

Arnett’s words were spiteful and insulting. Not only towards Laszlo, but yourself as well. It seemed that while Arnett did not seem to know the extent of your relationship to the alienist, the suspicion was enough to drive him over the edge. You only feared what would happen, should he learn what occurred at the opera. As your mind raced with your thoughts, you hadn't noticed how your captor now moved over you, trapping you under him. His spare hand trailed over you, his glare burning holes into you as he grabbed at your form. Your mind went blank, and all you could hear was the heartbeat that now pulsed in your ears. You twisted and turned, biting into your cheek as your body moved on its own, trying to do anything to get him off of you. A quick slap stunned you, causing you to recoil from the force.

Still, Arnett seemed lost to his ramblings. “He claims himself a gentleman! Tell me, do you enjoy the attention he gives you? Perhaps I’ve been mistreating you, perhaps you enjoy the way he takes advantage of you-“

Mistreatment was an understatement, but you dared not speak your mind in this moment. The feeling of his spare hand pushing a trail up your leg sent a wave of disgust and fear through you. Desperately, you spoke, saying anything that came to mind, hoping to calm the clearly unhinged man.

“No, no Mr. Arnett, please!”

You cried, gasping as your throat seemed to close off on its own.

“You’re- you’re right! He’s- He’s not a gentlemen, not like you. Louis-“

You barely registered what you were saying, only focusing on pleading for your life. You continued, speaking whatever you thought the man would want to hear. As soon as they left your mouth, you hated every lie you spoke about Laszlo. How you were catering to Mr. Arnett’s sick fantasy. It seemed to work, however, as the man paused his assault on you. His grip on your chin lifted your gaze up to him, making you stare through tears to look him in the eye.

Your voice shook as you spoke, going on and on about how you were being mistreated and how Arnett was a gentlemen, as much as it pained you to do so. You empathized the phrase, hoping it might somehow make him stop. His actions were abhorrent, yet he seemed to pride himself on being the gentleman he had tricked you into believing he was. You played into Arnett's fantasy, making yourself appear as some damsel in need of saving and that Arnett was the man who would do it. All you could do was hope your words satisfied him.

His hand released its hold on your leg, but you did not allow yourself to sigh in relief. The hold on your chin disappeared, as he gently placed his palm against your cheek. A soft smile met his lips, yet his eyes remained vacant and cold. His voice was distant once more, as if remembering something.

“You truly are just like my Lily.” He pressed his lips against you, holding you there. You didn’t move. When he finally parted, he gave a reassuring smile, something meant to comfort you, before saying: “He won’t mistreat you anymore, my dear. I’ll make sure of it.”

The older man stood up, smoothing a hand over his suit, before turning from you. Your heart sank at his words, leaving you in despair even as he left the room. Pulling your legs up to your chest, you cried into the wrinkled fabric of your dress, muffling the sound in order to keep Arnett from hearing you.

It felt like years, as another day passed. Your heart ached along with your shoulders and wrists, as you stared blankly at the wooden door. There were moments when you asked yourself if this barren room would be the last thing you saw. If the painted, empty eyes of Lily Arnett would be staring down at you, as you joined her in death. But there was hope.

Arnett’s outburst had been sudden and terrifying. But in his state, he’d given you the knowledge that Laszlo and the others were close, already questioning the man. Already suspecting the truth. You just needed to keep him satisfied, until your friends could figure out how to find you. If they found you.

When the wooden door opened once more, Arnett was bringing in another tray of food and water for you. As he came into the light of the lamp, your attention was drawn to the cut along the man's temple. Given your situation, this shouldn't have surprised you, but in all the time you've known the man you’d never seen the man with even a scratch on him, despite the violent attacks he had carried out. Before your abduction, you knew the man to be of good standing in the eyes of society. Someone obsessed with his reputation as a proper gentleman. Someone who’d never be caught up in a fight, not one that would cause such a wound.

You ask what happened, less out of concern and more out of curiosity, desperately wanting to learn what you could about the events playing out in the world outside of the small room. Your words seemed to fall on deaf ears however, as Arnett silently approached, not answering you. Instead, he lifted the food for you to eat. Slowly, you took a bite, not wanting to upset him further. After finishing the bits fruit and bread he initially offered, you found yourself growing more and more restless, due to his unsettling silence. As he lifted another fruit to you, you turned your head slowly, until eventually you found yourself looking up at the woman in the portrait.

Twice now he had mentioned his late wife…Lily. Some deep-rooted part of you felt as though her death had not been some random accident or illness, given how Arnett had consistently been comparing the two of you. No… By now, you suspected that perhaps the poor woman had shared your fate, falling victim to her husband's erratic behavior.

You opened your mouth, your throat dry as you carefully said: “I…I realize I never asked about your wife, before. If it is not too upsetting, tell me, how… how did she pass?”

Arnett blinked, as if snapped from his silence. A vacant expression crossed over his face, sending a frightening chill through you. It was identical to the one Laszlo had at the morgue, as the alienist was trying to gain insight into the killer’s mind. You had trusted Laszlo, but it was different now. Now you looked that very killer in the eye.

“I believe I told you. She was delicate." He paused, staring you down, before glancing away quickly. "Now eat.”

A horrible pit in your stomach grew, as your mind raced to create images of what you suspected befell the late Mrs. Arnett. If his lack of hesitation of using force against you was any indication…It was slowly becoming evident that perhaps she may have been the first. The catalyst that created the man you faced now. You swallow back the lump in your throat, speechless. In your shock, you had forgotten what Arnett had ordered you to do. It was too late to fix your mistake, as the man quickly took your silence as refusal. In an instant, the tray was shoved aside, slammed to the floor, as his form climbed over you.

"You ungrateful bitch!" His hands clamped down on your throat, using a strength that felt as though it would snap your life away at any second. You hands pulled down on the ropes, having enough length to allow you to claw at his grasp. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me?"

You struggled for breath, your heartbeat becoming the only sound in your ears before a slam at the door snapped you from your panicked state. A voice- no, voices- spoke loudly. You didn’t process what was said, only that the weight of Arnett shifted. You found yourself placed between Arnett and the unknown parties, a sharp pressure against your neck. As you gathered your senses, you realized the pressure was a knife, one Arnett had kept hidden away. You weren't sure if he had it before, or if he had planned to use it against you before being interrupted.

John and Sara stood before you, the woman aiming a gun towards Arnett. Though, with you placed in between them, the weapon was also directed towards you. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. If you weren’t so focused on the knife’s weight against you, your heart surely would have leapt with happiness. They had found you! But the confrontation was not over.

"You have no right, breaking in here!” Arnett seethed. “I’ll have you arrested!”

Sara was quick to respond, not even flinching from his words. “Call them if you like, but I doubt the police would be interested with us, upon finding a woman unwillingly locked up on your property.”

Arnett shook his head, his breath coming out in heavy exhales. His voice was shaking. Out of anger, fear, and confusion. “No, you’re wrong! She..she wants to be here! Tell them!”

The knife pressed harder against you, as Arnett whispered unintelligible words against your ear. You gasped, closing your eyes, as if everything would disappear if you didn't watch. Another sound of footsteps grabbed your attention, forcing you to look up once more. A third figure emerged through the door, joining John and Sara. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, upon seeing the tense stand-off between them and Arnett. With you at the center.

“Laszlo!” You called, the name falling from your mouth before you could stop it.

A vice grip found the back of your neck, making you gasp in pain. His whisper was erratic but you could just make out: "How dare you say his name in front of me-"

The knife pressed harder, a small sting followed by a warm trickling feeling. His cheek pressed against your ear, speaking lowly. “Tell them you want to be here. With me.”Another pause of silence made him seethe. "Answer me, Lily!”

Arnett’s grip on reality, whatever remained, was slipping as the scene played out before you. Still, you refused. Laszlo was here, They were all here! You were so close to freedom that you couldn't bare the thought of him taking it away. Tears reached your eyes, as you glanced at the faces you've grown to know.

“There’s no where to go, Mr. Arnett.” Sara said, regaining your attention. She looked back at you, rather than your captor. She looked unsure, as she aimed her gun toward the two of you, in contrast to her confident words. “If you truly care for her, as I suspect you do, then let her go.”

“No, nonono..” Arnett’s breaths became erratic. “She belongs with me! Tell them, my dear, now.”

Still you remain silent, biting back a cry.

Arnett snapped, cursing you, as the knife lifted for a moment, before turning fully towards you, intended to pierce your throat. In that split moment, you heard the loud blast of gunfire, followed by the metallic smell of gunpowder. A ringing overtook your senses, followed closely by a burning in your shoulder.

Then...

thud

Your heartbeat signaled to you that you were alive, but you couldn't help yourself but think it was a trick. One last cruel joke for the entertainment of a higher power.

Your mind and vision seemed to blur, as each passing moment came by in flashes. You no longer felt Arnetts breath against your ear, yet the intense pain in your shoulder remained. You felt a pair of arms reach around you, as the restraining pull of ropes on your wrists disappeared. The cool breeze of air hit your face at some point, before the rest faded away to darkness.

#The Alienist #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo x you #Daniel Bruhl

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

Text

Never Enough (Spencer Reid Drabble)

Summary: Ever wondered what Garcia wrote on that sticky note in the series finale? Read here to find out. When Reader, the new technical analyst, feels out of place at a party, Penelope’s sticky note and Reid’s kind words do just the trick.

A/N: This is a comfort piece for me, someone very introverted who never seems to do well in social gatherings. So this is dedicated to anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. You are loved. Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, Drabble Content Warning: Fear of exclusion, loneliness Word Count: 2.4k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All my life, all I’d ever wanted was to be a social butterfly. Their lives seemed so easy. People would naturally flock to them, what with their charisma, their confidence, their natural gift of being conversational.

I envied them for the sole reason that I was nothing like them, not in the slightest.

It wasn’t easy for me to keep a conversation going, even if I was trying my very hardest, which was often the case. I could never seem to commandeer the room in the way that someone extroverted could, and it was especially hard sometimes to feel a part of everyone.

It would be too easy to say I was invisible. Instead, I felt painfully visible, and entirely ignored.

Everyone could see my shyness peeking through, everyone could see how alienated I’d become, everyone could see my despondence, and yet no one bothered to change it.

No one cared.

My excruciating awkwardness had reached an all-time high at Krystall’s birthday party.

Agent Rossi was so keen on inviting me, and I was honored to go since it’d be my first bonding experience with the team outside of work. I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to grow closer to them, otherwise, I’d run the risk of isolating myself even more. As if being brought in as the BAU’s new technical analyst to replace Penelope Garcia wasn’t enough of a reason for them to doubt, despise, and disrespect me, I was the introvert who had a hard time making friends - unlike my predecessor, who’ve I heard could make friends like nobody’s business. I knew I could never fill her shoes, much less fill the glaring void she created when she left, but still, I maintained my bright-eyes in hopes that I’d be enough for them, anyway. I was all too eager to get to know everyone as more than just my coworkers, with one exception.

Dr. Reid maintained an arm’s length distance from me at all times, and at first, I understood. I even empathized with him.

Besides SSA Morgan and SSA Hotchner, the only other person that he’d work the longest with was Penelope, and now she was gone, too, but the longer his rejection of me lasted, the more I was curious what he truly had against me, and the more I was less interested in changing that. Why would I work tirelessly at mending this broken friendship, if he wasn’t willing to meet me halfway?

I was more shocked that he, of all people, would be the most displeased with my arrival. When Agent Rossi replaced Agent Gideon, from what I heard, the transition wasn’t as rocky as mine. Dr. Reid was overjoyed to be working with him and to discuss all his books. When Jordan Todd, and eventually Ashley Seaver, took Agent Jareau’s place momentarily, he was happy to be working with them. When Alex Blake and Kate Callahan came in after Emily Prentiss, he welcomed them with open arms. So what was it about me that was so abhorrent to him?

I never outright asked, mainly because I feared confrontation and I also had no way of knowing if my curiosity would make the situation worse or better. But I should’ve. I should’ve marched right up to him and asked, “What’s your problem?”

Somehow, though, I finally got up the courage to do so tonight.

I watched as the team laughed at one of Rossi’s anecdotes, meanwhile, the inside jokes flew over my head, hindering that bonding experience I was so sure I’d get by coming here. So I stepped inside the house, wandering into a spare room, knowing I wouldn’t be missed.

I thought I’d only be there for a moment to get some “fresh air” even though I’d actually migrated from the outside to the inside, where there’d arguably be less fresh air, but that’d be my excuse if anyone came in. But I was forced to stay longer in the office when it finally happened.

I finally reached my breaking point.

It was building up all night. It started when I first stepped into the house. My confidence faltered almost immediately when I accidentally stepped on Rossi’s Italian leather dress shoe as I went to greet him. He told me not to worry, but of course, I did just the opposite. It was a minor bump in the road, something so minute, but still, it weighed on me thinking about how embarrassing it was that I dirtied something of his that everyone recognized as valuable.

My shame didn’t stop there. As I was talking with Krystall, there were many periods of awkward silence that I couldn’t manage to fill with words, so we each sipped at our wine until one of us would try to pick up the conversation. What’s worse was that we each knew the silence was suffocating, and I could tell we were both thinking of things to say to keep the conversation going, and yet, nothing worth saying came to mind.

And worst of all was when Penelope Garcia finally arrived at the party. Don’t misunderstand me - it wasn’t the worst part of all because she was bad - no, she was lovely. She gave me a welcome present - a Beanie Baby to put on my desk, evocative of her own style of decor, and I loved her for it, which made me hate her all the more.

Rossi’s house livened up when she came. Everyone flocked to greet her, laughter erupted and ricocheted off Rossi’s high ceilings. They were positively elated by her presence, truly happy. Which was the first time I’d ever seen them that way because frankly, they were never that happy with me.

It was a painful reminder that I could never bring what she brought to the team, and I could never be as good as her. And the general consensus I reached, sitting in Rossi’s office all alone with my glass of wine, was the same one I’d known for years now - I’m not enough.

And I will never be enough.

I hadn’t realized I was crying until a tear cascaded down my cheek, dripping right under my nose, forcing me to audibly sniffle it away. Using the sleeve of my cardigan, I desperately tried to wipe away the tears faster than they were spilling out, but it just wasn’t possible. In fact, the coarse fabric of my cardigan rubbing against my cheeks only made them redder, making the fact that I was unwell that much more obvious.

The sound of the doorknob turning sent me into overdrive, automatically engaging me into turning around and facing the wall so that whoever was coming in wouldn’t find me in the state that I was in. I sniffled a great big sniffle and fanned my face to dry it of any moisture that my silent sobs could’ve left.

“Sorry, Rossi, I was just getting some fresh air and I thought I’d check out your book collectio-”

When I turned around, Rossi wasn’t standing there as I’d assumed.

In fact, the person standing there was the last person I thought it’d be.

“Dr. Reid?”

He was lingering in the doorway, studying my face, to which I instantly preventing from continuing on any further by cowering my head and looking away.

“What are you doing here?” My voice had taken a tone of anger that I didn’t anticipate to be there originally.

“Are you okay?”

To my surprise, his question seemed sincere, but I couldn’t truly believe it was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just allergies from being outside for so long. The pollen and stuff, you know?” I rambled nervously.

“Oh, really? Are you allergic to the grass?” He asked in a joking manner, knowing I was lying but still asking so that he’d have the satisfaction of getting to see me try and work my way out of the situation.

“Yes, I am actually. The most common outdoor allergy triggers are trees, grass, weed pollen, mold spores, dust mites, cockroaches, and cat, dog, and rodent dander. Don’t you know this? After all, you’re the one with the IQ of 187 here, not me.” I tried to joke to lighten up the room’s heaviness, but clearly, it didn’t work.

By this time, I’d already turned back to face the wall, so Reid surely couldn’t see me, but I heard the door click shut behind me, and a wave of anxiety permeated my soul.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

I scoffed at his question, almost hitting him back with an “As if you care.” But I decided against it in an effort to preserve what little repose we had left between us.

“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” He sounded like he was begging - like he was practically willing to go on his hands and knees to get me to answer, but all I could focus on was the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over my neck.

Goosebumps rose on my skins once he put his warm hand on my cold shoulder, which was bare from the absence of my cardigan and where it had slipped down to my elbow.

I flinched at the sensation, causing him to recoil.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He quickly apologized, regret filling his eyes. “Um, you look nice by the way. I like the way you did your hair. A-and your dress. It looks nice.”

Not even giving a chance to respond to his compliment, I asked again, “Why are you here?” Pressing him to get the point faster before I had a chance to react at another one of his physical advances.

“I saw you leave the backyard and I thought I should check on you.”

“Well, you’ve checked on me, so you can go back now.” I didn’t miss a beat when responding, fooling him into thinking that I didn’t catch his words and their intentions.

“I just want to talk.” He replied, finally answering my question from before.

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

He took a seat on a chaise lounge sofa while I stayed standing by the bookcase in preparation for a quick escape if need be.

“I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away. That wasn’t fair of me.”

Although I hadn’t expected him to apologize, I wasn’t going to be misled and naively accept his apology with no reservations.

“Why did you do it? And for so long?”

“I was angry. I didn’t want another person in my life that I cared about to walk away, so I thought maybe if I made you feel unwelcome, you wouldn’t want to stay. And she’d come back.”

It hurt to say, but at least I knew he was being honest.

“I accept your apology, but it’s not okay.”

“I know that.”

“Okay, are we good now? We’ve talked, so,” My hand gestured toward the door, suggesting he should leave, but he didn’t comply.

“I’m not leaving.”

“And why not?” The wine glass in my hand nearly shattered at the way my hand wrapped around it since its presence hindered me from being able to actually clench my fists.

“I didn’t come here to apologize, even though I should’ve sooner. But I came here because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Like you care.” I chuckled mirthlessly.

“I do care.”

I gave in, not wanting to fight him any longer, otherwise, I might cry some more from the altercation.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” He shook his head. “I know you’re not fine. What’s really wrong, Y/N?”

I looked away immediately from his gaze, trying to hide the sheen that was inevitably coating my eyes from the presence of tears, but he would’ve known I was crying the minute I used the cuff of my cardigan to wipe under my nose again.

“I just . . . I feel so unconnected,” I whispered, the pain of my words stealing my volume. “I don’t fit in. And I’ve never fit in before, but I actually thought this might be my chance.”

“It still is. Just come back outside.”

“You don’t get it!”

“What don’t I get?”

“I just needed to take a moment to compose myself so I wouldn’t ruin the energy of the room. And I’d really like to do that alone, okay?”

“I know you don’t want me to go.”

“What?”

“You’re testing me to see if I’ll stay.”

“No, I’m not.”

“So you’re saying that if I left right now, you wouldn’t regret letting me walk away?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I know you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. I know what it looks like when you lie. Wanna know how I know?”

I entertained his question out of pure frustration “How?”

“Because I pay attention to you. I see your mannerisms. I notice everything. Do you think I haven’t picked up on how you crack your knuckles when you’re nervous? Or how your stutter goes away when you talk about technology? Or how your fists clench, like how you’re doing right now?”

My eyes flickered to my fist that was wrapped so tightly around the glass, my knuckles were white. Out of shame, I loosened my grip.

“I pay attention because I care. And I’m sorry that I made you ever believe that I didn’t. What you do, and say, and think - it’s important. So no, I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here to give you the attention you deserve.” He sighed with a breath of relief. “I care more about you than whatever’s happening out there.”

And slowly, then all at once, that barrier between us broke down.

“I care about you. We all do. And when you’re ready, we can walk back out there together so that you can see for yourself just how much we care.”

. . . That night, I made nine more friends.

And the day we came back to work, with my Beanie Baby in hand, I rearranged my desk.

A folded up sticky note fell out from between two tables. I picked it up, recognizing the handwriting instantly.

Penelope Garcia.

Even when the laughter always seems to come from the other room and the world seems busy as it carries on without you, may you know this to be true. No matter who or what made you feel invisible, unworthy, unloved, or unseen, in this ever-moving world, there is still a place for you. And you are exactly in the place where you are meant to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

quote by morgan harper nichols

386 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Satisfied | Andy Barber x reader (chapter 1)

summary: you’re the only lawyer in Boston who can get under Andy Barber’s skin, but you didn’t realise that he was trying to get under your clothes. as is the nature of law, it’s only a matter of time before the truth is discovered.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut, semi-public sex, terrible courtroom decorum, two lawyers with 0 (zero) brain cells

You were early. You were always early. Being so early gave you time to prepare but more importantly, it gave you time to warm up. You had time to go over your notes and to read about the prosecution expert, Lieutenant Burns, of the fire department, and find out who the opposing counsel was.

You got an email first thing in the morning saying that there was a change as the original state representation was unwell. It annoyed you, but there was no prosecutor in the state that you did not know, so it couldn’t be a complete surprise. That was the smallest relief you were granted.

Your coffee burnt your hand as the flimsy paper cup did little to insulate your skin from the scalding liquid. It was a bad start to your day. That paired with an unknown prosecutor made your mood more sour than usual.

You thought that it could not get any worse. You were wrong. It was as if your worst nightmares had all rolled into one when he walked towards your courtroom. Glancing down, you hoped that he had not noticed you.

It was when he stood outside of your courtroom that you realised he was your prosecutor. Just your luck. Why did it seem like you ended up with him more than anyone else, when it was allegedly random chance?

The good news was, you were the lawyer who could handle him best. Didn’t mean you liked to, but still. At least you could play with your food a little bit before you ate it. “Andy Barber…” your voice trailed off when he turned to you. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you actually had to pass the bar to go in and represent someone...or something.”

Andy sighed and rubbed his temple. “Do we have to start this shit now?” he glanced down at his watch, “it’s half-past eight in the morning.”

“Start what? I’m not starting anything, I just wanted to remind you that you must be qualified to be here.” You took a swig of coffee and let the words settle in, “I hope you were up all night googling what a deposition is.”

“It’s too fucking early for this. I refuse to deal with it. I refuse to deal with you.” Andy put emphasis on the last word to try to get through to you. “I just got this case this morning and I can’t… I just can’t, right now.”

“Giving up so soon? I thought you were Andy ‘nobody-can-fucking-faze-me’ Barber,” your tone was mocking but it was ambiguous as to who you were actually mocking. Was it yourself? Was it Andy? You hoped that it was Andy. “And remember, there’s no judge today so you’re going to have to ‘deal with me’ all by yourself.”

“I swear, if you act this way during the deposition...” Andy was livid, his grip on his coffee and pastry was white-knuckle tight. The vein in his neck was bulging over the top of his collar. “Can you just be a fucking adult for once in your life?”

“What have I done for you to be in such a fucking sour mood? It’s as if you want to wind me up.” You threw your arms in the air as Andy walked off. In your mind, you were unsure as to whether it was actually a victory or not.

---

“Thank you for joining us today, Lieutenant Burns. Please could you please state your name and occupation for the court.”

“Your name is Lieutenant Burns?” you interrupted the deposition causing Andy to look over at you in annoyance. A small giggle erupts from your lips as you try to compose yourself.

“Yes, my name is Cole Burns, and I’m a lieutenant firefighter at the Suffolk County Fire Station No. 7.”

“Wait,” you, once again, interrupted the deposition, trying to hold in your laughter, “your name is really Cole Burns? Like ‘coal burns’? And you’re a firefighter? This can’t be real.”

“Didn’t you read the report?” Andy asked incredulously.

“I did, but I assumed that you changed the names just to mess with me,” you shrugged and sat down.

“This is what is going to happen now, you’re going to be good, shut up, and sit down so that I can ask my questions. The sooner you do that, the sooner we can get away from each other.”

You shook your head in response and Andy ignored you. He went back to questioning his witness as you watched.

“Was it true that there was accelerant found at the site of the fire which was not found in the building prior to the fire?”

“Objection-- that’s a leading question.” You raised your hand briefly in the air to signify both verbally and physically that you objected. Andy turned and glared at you not hiding his displeasure. The poor witness looked around the room and waited patiently for you to stop arguing. “Lieutenant Burns, please do not answer that question.”

“Okay. Are you going to let me examine the witness now--” Andy already sounded exasperated. You knew that it would be a long day with him and he knew that too. The premise of the deposition was easy but Andy Barber made everything difficult.

“No, but--” You raised your finger and tried to finish your sentence. You blinked for a few seconds in surprise that he actually had the audacity to cut you off again.

“--or are you just going to--” he continued, speaking over you again. Andy rubbed his hand over his beard in frustration. If he had just let you speak, the deposition would have been far easier. You clenched your jaw as he spoke. Had he no manners?

“What I’m going to do is try to be as big an asshole as you are, Andy, and I’m going to object whenever I need to,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest and grinned at him smugly with your head cocked to one side. ‘Whether you like it or not.”

“Okay. That was a bad word you just used.” He cocked his eyebrow at you and tutted. You breathed out, nose flaring and sighed. The sooner the day was over with, the sooner you were able to get away from Andy.

“Really? You recognize that word.” You gasped and pretended to be surprised by the announcement. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. It was lucky that there was no judge present as there was a high chance both you and Andy would be disbarred for your behaviour.

“Yeah,” Andy deadpanned. You glanced around at the room and saw both your client and the expert witness shift in his chairs uncomfortably. The air was tense whenever you and Andy were in a room together and today was no different.

“Do you?” You tried to wind him up even further. You wanted to push him as far as you could. The tension made the rest of the courtroom uncomfortable and the stenographer looked to you multiple times to see if she should continue noting down the argument.

“Yeah.” You could tell that Andy had reached the end of his tether. “Is that so much of a surprise for you?”

“Well, good. You want me to write it out for you? I can make it an exhibit for you, if you’d like. Alright?” You grabbed a pen and started to write the word on a piece of paper on your desk. It was littered with exhibits and documents. So much so that you were surprised that you were able to find a scrap of unused paper.

“Why don’t we keep our language appropriate, okay?” His tone was condescending and he threw you a tight-lipped smile before snatching the new ‘exhibit’ from your hand. You fake gasped when Andy threw the paper away and Andy skimmed through a document in his hand ignoring you. If he was not an attorney, Andy would have made a good teacher with the tone he always used on you. Patronising.

“Well, why don’t you ask questions, and I’ll worry about what I’m doing.” Andy continued his questioning of his witness before it was your turn to question him. “Lieutenant Burns, please could you give us your expert opinion on what you saw at the scene of the fire?”

“The fire did not start from an electrical device nor did it come from the kitchen. This meant that there was already a greater suspicion of arson--”

You tapped your pen against the table as the Lieutenant spoke. “I’m sorry to stop you, Lieutenant,” Andy turned to you with a tight jaw, “can you stop, please?”

“What am I doing? I’m letting you ask all of your important questions.”

“You’re tapping the pen.”

“Is that what I was doing?” you feigned innocence as the poor stenographer typed away at the argument.

“You know that’s what you were doing.” Andy turned back to his witness, “I apologise, Lieutenant, please could you continue what you were saying.”

“Thank you, ADA Barber,” the Lieutenant looked uncomfortable, ‘I was speaking about why we suspected the fire to be arson. The burn patterns indicated that there was an accelerant used.”

Andy pulled out a picture and walked towards the witness, “Lieutenant Burns, are these the burn patterns you were referring to? Please note for the record that the prosecution is showing the witness exhibit 12.”

“Yes, that is the pattern.” Andy retrieved the exhibit from the witness and thanked him for his time. It was your turn to question the witness.

“Lieutenant Burns, in your professional opinion, is there any other reason that could have caused the fire?” you hoped that Andy had not had the time to completely look through the disclosure yet and would not have seen the exhibit you would rely on.

“It is highly unlikely due to the amount of accelerant found at the scene,” the firefighter shifted in his chair.

“Is it not possible that the accelerant found its way into the building without a person?” you picked out an exhibit and handed it to him, “please note that defence is giving the witness exhibit 52.”

It was a report on the building’s previous use as an oil storage unit. It was evident from the state of disrepair that the building had been fairly dangerous and the previous owners had not cleaned off any oil spills.

“Please could you read out the report, Lieutenant Burns.” you had a smug smile on your lips that you tried your hardest to suppress. Andy’s hands were clenched into fists as he watched it all unfold in front of him.

“After an inspection of the property, Unit 42, it was found that the building was unsafe to be in and should be foreclosed immediately.” the Lieutenant looked at you and you nodded for him to continue reading it. “There was evident oil spillage on multiple surfaces of the building including but not exclusive to the floor, walls, and ceiling.”

“Please could you read out the author of the report, and when it was written.”

“Lieutenant Cole Burns, dated 24th April 2020.”

“Would it be possible for a fire to have started without the presence of a person, Lieutenant?” you raised your eyebrow and turned to give Andy a victorious smile.

“In certain cases...there could be a chemical reaction that would cause a fire,” the Lieutenant shifted in his seat under your intense gaze, “it would be possible.”

“And as such, in a building that is known to have been unsafe due to a mixture of chemical spillages and one with oil, could that cause a fire?”

“Yes. The oil would act as an accelerant.”

“Counsel, would you still like to try and get your boy to take the stand?” the smug grin on your face was now undeniable.

“Objection, form.” Andy rose from his seat and you turned back to glare at him. There was nothing wrong with your line of questioning, nor was there anything wrong with your phrasing of it.

“I’ll object--” You cut Andy off once more and roll your eyes.

“Your boy, over there,” you pointed at the witness, “has-”

“I’ll object to your blatant sidebar there,” Andy grew tense and you knew that you were getting under his skin, “furthermore, Counsel, my witness is a decorated firefighter. He is a Lieutenant. Show him some respect.”

There was then a short break. You stormed out of the courtroom to get a cup of coffee and to get away from Andy. The man infuriated you. But it brought you so much delight to wind him up.

---

You checked your phone to find a text from your friend: 1 Attachment Image. Just as you were about to open it, another popped up. Check out who’s alone and getting wasted at O’Leary’s.

You opened the conversation to find a picture of Andy Barber, mid-gulp of a boilermaker at the bar.

Seriously? With the deposition continuing tomorrow? you typed quickly in reply, and sent it.

You must have seriously gotten to him, she answered with a shrugging emoji.

You erased your apartment from the map destination on your phone and put in O’Leary’s Pub instead. Maybe a drink would do you good. Or so you thought.

“Well well well,” you greeted with a grin as you stepped up to the bar, lavishing in the way his face dropped when he saw you, “look who’s drinkin’ away the loser blues.”

“I haven’t lost,” he frowned and sighed. It was heavy and resignatory. He was tired of you. That much was clear.

“Yet,” you added with a wink. “Tell me something, Barber. How is it that you manage to convince everyone you’re a perfect angel, in spite of everything you’ve done? I swear, if I had stolen the valedictorian title from you, everyone would’ve called me a bitch.”

“Oh, people still call you a bitch,” he reassured, casually lifting his beer to go for another gulp.

You slapped the glass out of his hand and watched it crash onto the floor. He looked at the foamy mess on the ground before turning to you.

“Fucking seriously?!” he exclaimed as you tried to stifle both a laugh and a scream.

You looked up instinctively at the sound of the door opening, only to see Andy in the reflection behind you.

“This is the women’s washroom-- can’t you read?” you quipped before looking at your own reflection again. As best as you tried to avoid Andy, his presence was undeniable. There was a blatant shift in any room he entered.

He said nothing, shutting the door behind him and stepping up to you. You continued washing your hands as if you weren’t suddenly feeling dizzy and your heart wasn’t racing. Andy, however, could see through your faux-composed demeanour.

As you dried your hands, you felt him right behind you, nearly pressing against you, the smell of alcohol and cologne drifting towards you while you threw the paper towel away.

You turned to leave but he was still standing there, caging you in. Something in his eyes was fiery, more aggressive than you’d seen in him before. Just as you began to side step to get away, he grabbed the sink with both hands from either side and you were trapped.

“Mr. Barber,” you began, your voice coming out much weaker and breathier than it had sounded in your head, “what… what are you doing?”

He leaned in and his breath tickled your ear and neck. “You,” he whispered, ignoring your question, “are impossible.” The smell of alcohol was equal parts strong and alluring.

“I’m just trying to throw you off, Andy,” you shrugged, “I know you can handle it. Or, I thought you could. You need to learn to ignore me.”

His hand moved from the sink to your arm, holding you down tightly.

“I can’t,” he growled. “I can’t ignore you. Since that first day at Harvard, you have been… my kryptonite.”

“You’re Superman in this example?” you chuckled trying to break some of the tension.

And that was it. He grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you with an erratic neediness. You surprised even yourself by reciprocating instantly, reaching up to grab at his shirt. He slid his hands down to grab at the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto the faux-marble countertop.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as his hands reached up your skirt, pushing it up from the inside. Goosebumps rose all over your body as it was exposed to the air.

“God, I hate you,” he growled as he pulled you closer to him, pushing his clothed erection against your panties. You whimpered at the feeling as he rolled his hips and you could feel every detail of his cock through the trousers.

You didn’t reply, instead slipping your hands between your bodies to start working open his belt and pants. You fumbled with them unsure if it was the alcohol or the anticipation that rendered you useless. He kissed you again, his tongue aggressively sliding into your mouth as one of his hands still held your face with a possessive grip.

Didn’t take long for you to get his cock out and instantly start stroking it, gasping at how hot and hard it felt in your palm. He barely managed to get your hand off him before he was pulling your underwear aside and lining up with your entrance.

“Somebody could walk in,” you warned him.

“Should’ve thought of that before you let me get this far,” he hissed in reply.

And then he pushed into you all at once, slamming his hips into yours.

“Fuck!” you yelped. Before you could even process it he was moving again, thrusting into you quickly, ruthlessly.

He pulled back and reached up to your blazer, pushing it aside so he could unceremoniously rip your shirt open, sending some buttons popping off and flying into unknown corners. He leaned down and left wet kisses down your chest and between your breasts, pushing them together against his face before pulling one out of your bra to suck on your nipple.

You looked down at him-- brown hair falling out of its meticulously styled shape, cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol, eyes shut as he diligently focused on tasting you, lips open to take your skin into his mouth-- and wondered how the fuck you were doing this with Andy fucking Barber.

His teeth grazed your nipple and a surge of wetness seeped from your walls around his cock. Both of you moaned.

He stood up suddenly and pulled out of you, manhandling you until you were turned around and bent over the countertop. He took a moment to pull down your underwear and get a good look at your ass before slamming into you again; you had to put your hand on the mirror to keep from being thrown forward by his brutal thrusts.

He held your hips in place as he fucked you, his head falling back a little when he bit his lip. A low moan escaped his lips as he felt your walls snug around him.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned as he buried himself in you as deep as possible with each movement.

Your eyes fluttered shut but suddenly he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up, wrapping his other arm around your waist. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, and you did. “Look at yourself.”

You looked pretty fucking wasted, honestly. Shirt torn open, bra half pulled-down underneath it, skirt hiked up to your waist and below it all, his annoyingly-perfect cock sliding into you, slick with the undeniable evidence of your arousal.

“I can tell you’re gonna come,” he grinned, biting down on your earlobe teasingly. “You’re squeezing me. You love this.”

You didn’t even have the heart to deny it, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder and moaning louder.

“Gonna come getting fucked in a dirty pub bathroom? God, you’re filthy,” he hissed. “My little fuckdoll. Say that you’re my dirty little fuckdoll.”

You gasped and reached back to grab the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss. He obliged, running his hand up to palm at your breast. Unable to speak, Andy gripped your jaw until you stuttered it out between moans. “Yours,” you whimpered, “I’m your little-- fuck-- your fuckdoll, Andy.”

He hissed and sped up his thrusts, and you were sure your knees would buckle. Pleasure was burning through you and making everything feel hot and tingly and numb. You just accepted it when he pushed you back and held you down by the back of your neck as he fucked you harder and faster than ever.

“Fucking say my name when you come,” he demanded. “Don’t forget who’s fucking you like this.”

You were afraid you’d scream it and get you both caught, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “Oh god, Andy, oh my god, don’t stop!” you begged.

He did anything but stop, just groaning as he moved faster until you were a complete mess, your walls rippling at the same time as your mouth opened into a silent scream while you came.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered at the feeling of your orgasm, quickly spiralling into his own. He growled one last time as he pushed into you and painted your insides with his seed. “Fuuuuck yes,” he groaned as he pulled out. You tried to get up but he kept holding you down so he could watch his come spill out of you and drip down your legs.

“Better clean up before somebody comes in,” he smiled as he zipped up his pants, slapped your ass, and started to walk away.

“Been a pleasure as always, Mr. Barber,” you frowned, pulling your blazer back on and buttoning it to cover where your shirt couldn’t.

“I could tell,” he winked. “You’re as tight as you were in college. You need to get laid more often.”

(next chapter)

#andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #andy barber #andy barber x y/n #chris evans x y/n #defending jacob fanfiction #andy barber smut #chris evans smut

1K notes · View notes

loki-hargreeves · 3 years

Text

You Flower, You Feast - Loki x Reader [PART 2]

[PART 1]

Warnings: pregnancy, relationship issues, morning sickness, angst, fighting, flinching, falling ill, magical medical procedures, mentions of death (possibility of dying, but no one dies), mentions of torture, hurt/comfort, bittersweet fluff and implied smut (love making) at the end

Word Count: 8,1K

Summary: Part 2 of ‘you flower, you feast’. You’re pregnant, but you’re hiding the fact from Loki. After his return, he has been different and you haven’t been able to confide in him like you did before. The truth is revealed after you end up in the infirmary after getting sick. The fear of almost losing you makes Loki realize that things need to change, and he finally tells you what happened to him after he fell from the bridge. It seems like he’s finally back again.

Author’s Note: You don’t really have to read the first part in order to read this, but it would help paint a fuller picture. The first part has smut, but the plot is quite long as well. I hope you’ll enjoy this! Requested by @sunshineyrosie

THIRD POV

The sickness took over Y/N by surprise. She had just woken up and she immediately knew that something was wrong. Without wasting any time, she got up from the safety of the warm bed, running toward the bathroom that was in her and Loki’s shared quarters. By the time she reached the toilet, everything she had eaten the previous day came up, making her eyes and nose sting. It made her stomach sick when she coughed up everything which left a foul taste in her mouth.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had woken up so abruptly. When she was finished, she cleaned up after herself and had to rinse her mouth thoroughly.

A thought crossed her mind as she wondered why she was so nauseous. Could it be? Could she be pregnant?

It had been a few weeks since she and Loki had decided to try for a baby. For countless nights, they had been tangled in a rough dance and her body had every mark to prove that. Not that it didn’t feel great, because the rough sex with Loki was mind-blowing, but that was all it was; rough. Loki was still not letting her in. He was hiding behind his tall and strong walls and she was afraid he’d never break them down. It felt like he used the sex as a distraction.

Y/N put a hand on her stomach and realized that if she was carrying a child - their child - it would change their lives. Would Loki change? What if he stayed the same, distant and rough man. Could that be good for a child?

“Are you in there?” Loki’s voice startled her. He hadn’t been in bed when she had woken up, but now he was right behind the bathroom door.

Although she was still in shock, she tried to push her thoughts away. Her hand dropped to her side and she cleared her throat, “Yeah,” letting him know she was awake and well.

“Is everything alright?” Loki wondered. It was sweet of him to care. Perhaps he was hoping to hear some positive news, but she wasn’t going to tell him. Not yet.

Y/N took one last glance in the mirror, noticing just how tired she looked. Perhaps a bath would make her feel better and more at ease? She decided to get the water running.

“I’m fine, Loki. I’m going to take a bath,” She let him know, leaving an open invitation for him to join her.

The door opened and Loki walked in. He had magicked his clothes on because once they were in private, they came off by vanishing into thin air. “Mind if I join you?”

The water began to flow silently into the big bathtub. Surely, the hot water would make her feel better. Perhaps Loki would benefit from the relaxation it offered too.

“Sounds great,” She smiled, but she didn’t sound too convincing. Her morning sickness was fresh on her mind and all she could think about was the possibility of being pregnant. For some reason, it absolutely terrified her. If only Loki was alright, so she could confide in him. How would he react to the news? Would he be mad if she hid it from him?

As the two of them sunk into the water that smelled of lavender and other expensive herbs and oils, Y/N leaned against Loki’s body. She was still exhausted and she wished that even for a moment, they could just be like this. It reminded her of the good old days when they were so happy. Everything had changed. Being like that, so close was lovely.

Loki’s skilled fingers traced patterns over her exposed skin. He was careful not to apply too much pressure to the fresh love-bites and bruises among the old ones. If anyone saw her like that, it would be obvious that she was his, and vice versa. Loki’s back was certainly covered in scratches.

Y/N wondered if Loki could feel the way her heart was pounding in her chest. She wondered if he could tell she was troubled by her own thoughts. Did he still care?

“What’s on your mind, dear?” He noticed that something was different. For weeks, everything had been out of the ordinary. Was he simply imagining it or was she distracted by something?

She blinked a few times, hoping to get rid of the sleepiness that still had a hold on her. Then she faced Loki, searching for something familiar in his eyes. She knew that he was still in there, and sometimes it showed, like in moments like these.

What is on my mind? She thought. She wanted to know what happened to Loki on the bridge because Thor and Odin refused to tell her the details. What happened to him after that? Where had he been and who had he been with? Why did Loki show up on Midgard with the goal of taking over the realm? Why had he visited Earth out of all places before coming to her? Had he missed her? Because she had missed him more than words could’ve ever expressed. The nights she spent in the palace where she couldn’t escape his memory, thinking he was dead, had been absolutely dreadful. She had thought of him every single day.

“Nothing, I’m just tired,” Y/N sighed and decided to keep things to herself, for now. It was better that way. Perhaps Loki saw that she was lying, but he decided not to poke holes in her story. Deep down, he feared he might’ve already known the answer. Guilt was tormenting him already but he had no clue how to deal with it. Where would he even begin? It was easier to shut her out.

A few weeks passed, and she held tight onto her secret. By now it was clear as daylight that she was expecting a child, their child. It should’ve been easy to tell Loki, but so far she kept it to herself. Sometimes it felt like Y/N was trying to fool her own mind and lie to herself. Despite it all, she knew that it was wrong. At some point, he would find out whether she liked it or not and she knew it would be best if Loki heard it from her. Yes, he wanted a child. But how would he react? Was he ready? Was he having these fantasies merely so they would stay together? What if he didn’t actually want a baby and he’d be mad?

Y/N hated the thoughts she had. She absolutely despised the fact she feared him for no good reason. Loki had never hurt her and he had never implied that he would, yet her mind twisted things. He had changed, and she still didn’t know why. Would she ever see the old him again?

It was midday and the sun was bright enough that even inside in the great library in the palace, she could read with ease without additional lights. With a cup of tea by her side and a book in her hand, she focused on the fictional world she was reading about, completely blocking out her real life for just a moment. In stories that had never happened, nothing mattered. She could look into a character’s life and worry about their problems instead of her own. Besides, for a few days now she had felt sick to her stomach and a headache had been prominent for days on end now. Not even her own magic had pushed it away which was unusual, but she assumed it was because of the pregnancy. Therefore she didn’t think to mention her odd symptoms to anyone. Not that anyone would’ve cared much of a headache anyway.

When she put the book down, it was much darker. Through the sheer curtains, she could see the sun was setting, which painted all of Asgard golden and pink. When had she finished her tea?

“Y/N?” Loki’s familiar voice caught her attention. Time had passed quicker than she could’ve expected, and she realized that she had forgotten to meet him. They had planned on eating dinner together that day.

Quickly, she put the book down and she got up, noticing how stiff she felt after having been frozen on one spot for several hours probably. For a moment, she felt dizzy which she blamed on for standing up so fast.

“I’m here!” She let him know about her whereabouts as slowly the occurrences of the protagonist faded away from her mind.

As Loki walked up to her, he seemed relieved - but only for a short while.

“I was worried when you didn’t show up,” He said honestly. It was possibly the most caring thing he had said since his return, yet he was probably disappointed. Y/N quickly wiped away her bitter thoughts and focused on the brighter side. Despite how guilty she felt about missing their dinner date, she thought it was a great opportunity to try to dig deeper into what happened to him. Perhaps he’d open up?

“I’m so sorry, Loki, I am,” Y/N apologized sincerely, closing the gap between them. She felt hopeful when Loki let her take his hands in hers. His were always so soft, even when his touch was rougher than before between the sheets these days. His hands never changed. “I wasn’t feeling well and when I opened the book, I didn’t even notice how much time had passed until now.”

Loki overlooked what she said about feeling unwell. Perhaps it was wrong but he assumed she was avoiding him. Truthfully, he knew he had been a lot to handle recently. Hell, if he had been in her shoes, he would’ve probably avoided himself too. Loki couldn’t be too mad at her, because he did blame himself a lot. If only he knew how to change. His mind would surely be the end of him.

“Hey,” Y/N noticed how lost he seemed in his own head, “Are you alright?”

A smile spread on his face, completely disregarding the sad trace that glimmered in his eyes a moment ago. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

So defensive, she thought. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, I hope you know I’m here for you.”

Loki recognized that look on her face. It was pity, and he hated it. Loki didn’t want her pity, he didn’t feel deserving of it.

He pulled his hands out of her gentle grasp, “Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”

The way he assumed things that she would never think was infuriating. Perhaps he was taking a toll on Y/N’s nerves because her headache was getting worse and she felt her blood boiling beneath her skin. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold up with his, and pretend as nothing had ever happened, or how long she could keep it a secret that she was carrying their child and she was unsure whether or not it was a good idea to have this baby. The guilt and pain were tormenting her.

“That’s not what I said, Loki-”

“You were thinking it, were you not?” Loki didn’t know why he said that, but now it was too late. He didn’t wish to fight with her, but it seemed like his own thoughts and feelings were about to pour over the brim.

A sigh escaped her lips and she felt like sitting down. The world around her was spinning and she wasn’t sure if it was just her nerves burning up that was causing it. It grew worse at an alarming rate and she felt cold sweat on her skin.

“Don’t twist my words, Loki,” She groaned, more annoyed at the sick feeling that was overwhelming her rather than his attitude.

Those words she said were a sharp reminder of the moment Loki shared with Odin. When he lifted the ice casket, when he confronted his so-called father and found out that he had been taken from Jotunheim as an infant.

Loki’s heart was breaking in his chest piece by piece. The lie he had grown up in was now shattering and he saw through the cracks. Everything was beginning to make more sense. The pain and pure agony he felt was barely contained. He kept his teary-eyed glued onto his father, Odin, who wasn’t that much of his father after all.

“The casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin looked shocked, but he didn’t look sad. It was like he cared more about being caught in a lie rather than being caught as a liar and a terrible father. Odin never cared about Loki, did he? Loki began to believe that he had never even been loved by him. Why did Odin know about Loki’s blue skin? Why did he know that it wasn’t a curse? It should’ve been a major shock to anyone, but Odin knew...

“No,” Odin eventually answered him.

Loki stopped walking once they were close enough for his liking. He wanted Odin to see his wrath and fury, and he wanted to see the shame on Odin’s face.

“In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby - small for a giant’s offspring,” Odin recalled the day he found Loki. Of course, he didn’t tell Loki the exact story of the events that occurred. Odin wanted it to seem more glorious and heroic than it actually was. Loki would never know. “Abandoned, suffering....left to die.”

“Laufey’s son,” Odin confirmed.

“Laufey’s son,” Loki had to repeat that in order to process what he just heard. They were only two words, but he felt tears gathering in his eyes and he was choking up which he tried to ease by swallowing thickly, nervously.

“Yes,” Odin nodded. He was oddly calm.

Loki stood there in shock, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. As if it wasn’t worse enough that his family had lied to him his entire life, now he was hearing that his actual family hadn’t wanted him either. Could it be true? That he was a prince that no one wanted to see become a king? Had he ever been worthy of love? What would Y/N think of him once she’d find out about his true origin? Would she stop loving him?

“Why?” Loki struggled as he searched for the words he wanted to use. His thoughts were racing in his head and he felt like he would go mad if he tried to think too much right now. “You were knee-deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child-”

Loki could smell Odin’s lie from a mile away and it fueled his rage, “No. You took me for a purpose, what was it?” Loki had to know, even if he feared it would torment him for the rest of his life. There had to be a reason, Odin didn’t care for abandoned babies - otherwise, the palace would be full of children.

Odin was shocked that Loki had interrupted him, let alone refused to listen to his sorrow story. How would he react if he told him the real truth? Odin wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

The silence in the vault was uncomfortable, and it was burning on their skin. For Loki, the silence was dreadful and he couldn’t take it,

“TELL ME!” He demanded loudly, his painful cry echoing throughout the entire room and surely beyond the golden walls.

Odin couldn’t look Loki in the eye, “I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace through you.”

Tears rolled down Loki’s face now, which he couldn’t control anymore. What Odin said was almost worse than not knowing at all. Odin had only seen an opportunity in Loki as an object, as a piece in negotiation.

“Why?”

“But those plans no longer matter,” Odin was quick to reassure him, but Loki doubted that. How could he ever trust another word that came out of his mouth ever again? That man had lied about Loki’s entire existence, made him believe that his own race was the pure evil enemy of the nine realms. Loki had heard Odin bash about how he had defeated the Jotuns in battle, and killed unimaginable amounts of Jotun soldiers. He had said those things as he kept the secret of Loki’s true nature. It was gross, it made Loki taste muck in his mouth.

“So I’m no more than another stolen relic,” Loki looked at the other stolen things in the vault that he was surrounded by, which was incredibly ironic, “locked up, here, until you might have use of me?”

Odin didn’t enjoy being talked back to. He couldn’t foresee this ever happening and he couldn’t imagine what Loki was going through. The old king could only think about himself, about how he had faced this before with Hela. Why were his children not good enough?

“Why do you twist my words?”

Odin’s question echoed in Loki’s head and for a moment, he forgot the conversation that he had with his wife, one that was quickly escalating into a fight. It was a miracle it hadn’t happened sooner.

“Loki,” Y/N noticed that somehow, her words had affected him terribly. She wanted to know why. One side of her mind told her to give it up, to keep pretending like everything was fine because clearly Loki was still hurt. Another part of her wanted to encourage him to open up, to trust her again. She wanted to help him. The rough sex and silence afterwards would only get toxic and it wasn’t good for any of them long term.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Loki made up his mind.

Being pushed away constantly was not only frustrating but painful. When they got married, they had become a team. They had to be there for each other through the good and the bad. She had promised to be his rock, to be the one he could confide in no matter what. Suddenly, guilt overwhelmed her. He had promised that to her as well, and yet she hadn’t told Loki about the baby.

“How can you say that if you don’t even try to make me understand?” She wondered, almost demanding him to say something, anything at all other than dismissive sentences and strange gazes.

Where would he even begin? It had been so long, and Loki had seen so much. Would he tell her about what happened on Asgard? Or should he begin with the titan that still haunted him like a shadow.

“Loki, what happened to you on that bridge?” Y/N dared to ask him about something that surely was a sore spot. No one had told her, although she had asked many times. Thor had tried to come up with a heroic explanation for it all, but Y/N knew it to be all lies. Something darker had happened and she wanted to know so that she could help Loki.

Had they really not told her? Loki was surprised at how little she truly knew. A broken smile spread on his face. Odin and Thor hadn’t had the guts to tell her the truth. They were so cowardly, it was almost comedic in a way.

“What did they tell you happened?”

“They told me lie after lie. I don’t care about their version of the story. Loki, the only story I care about is yours,” She let out a shaky breath. The spinning was getting worse by the second. Had she consumed something bad?

Loki wanted to tell her, but he knew the truth would put her through a lot of sorrow. Would she still care for him if she knew everything?

He held onto his words for a while longer. Every cell in his body was burning with longing, wanting to tell her everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides, he kept thinking about Odin which agitated him. Why did he have to make it into every aspect of his life?

Loki fell silent and watched her walk away. Instead of trying to reach for him, she walked to the nearest bookcase and leaned against the fine wood.

“What’s going on?” Loki realized how oddly she was behaving. Perhaps she was genuinely feeling under the weather? His anger began to fade as it was replaced by worry.

“Nothing!” She hissed, lying, but only because she didn’t want to focus on her.

Loki couldn’t bear hearing her lies, as ironic as it was. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N, I can tell that something is off!”

As he spoke with a loud voice and walked towards her, Y/N flinched. She didn’t mean to, but the loud noise and his abrupt movement had startled her. Her hand quickly covered her stomach, which was completely unintentional and her eyes widened in shock. Why did she react like that?

Loki stilled completely, unable to believe what happened. Did she think he would harm her? Was she afraid of him?

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?” He muttered in disbelief. Seeing the look on her face made Loki feel disgusted with himself. He felt like a monster.

Y/N let her hand fall to her side.

“No, I just...I don’t know, Loki,” She felt awful for even thinking about it. That was Loki! Her husband. The man she was in love with. If it wasn’t for the torturous headache and nausea she was suffering from, she would’ve hugged him and reassured Loki that she wasn’t afraid of him, but right now all she could do was lean against the steady bookcase. Y/N was convinced that her balance would betray her if she tried to stand all on her own.

It was definitely not something she could’ve ignored furthermore. In a desperate attempt to make things right, she tried to walk to Loki. Although she was lightheaded and everything around her began to turn into a blurry mess, she knew one thing; she needed Loki. She couldn’t let him think he was a monstrous creature. She hadn’t meant to flinch like that - it just happened.

Whenever times were troubling or she was afraid, she always wanted to be with him.

Loki noticed how quickly her demeanor was changing. It almost looked like she was intoxicated. The way she massaged her temples and how she leaned into her own touch, looking dizzy even though she was standing, was strange. As he looked closer, he noticed that her body was trembling ever so slightly. The sight of her like that calmed his anger since it got replaced by worry.

“Y/N?” He wanted to see her face. Was she crying?

She took a step toward him and almost tripped over her own feet. Loki caught her in his arms just in time.

“That’s it, I’m taking you to the infirmary,” Loki made up his mind, past conversation now long forgotten. The only thing that mattered was her well-being. Frankly, seeing her like that terrified Loki. During all the years they had spent together, he had never seen her like this and it was more than alarming.

The walk from the palace library to the infirmary wasn’t that long, but it felt like it took them hours. With every step they took, she seemed to get weaker. By the time they were walking down the hallway to the infirmary, Loki had to wrap his arm around her waist to keep her on her feet - otherwise she would’ve fallen on the cold, hard floor.

The healers had seen them coming. Without a shared word being said, they took Y/N from him and placed her on the bright inspection bed nearby where they could figure out what was wrong with her. Loki wanted to stay, but everything escalated incredibly fast, leaving him in the side. There was no way he would’ve pushed himself between the people who were trying to help her.

The words everyone said merged together, and it seemed like he could only hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. He just stood there and watched as the love of his life was surrounded by the best healers in the nine realms and even they seemed panicked. Something was terribly wrong.

The gold magic surrounded her and Loki caught a glimpse of the soul forge that the healers were examining. Even if he had wanted to focus on it, he wasn’t sure if he could’ve. Loki looked at Y/N again whose eyes were closed by now and she looked to be asleep, only he knew that she wasn’t resting.

He didn’t really phantom how much time had passed until a healer walked up to him, gesturing Loki to walk further away.

“We need to use drastic magic in order to heal her,” She explained carefully, not wanting to upset the prince.

“What’s wrong with her?” Loki had to know, worry clear in his voice.

The healer looked lost, almost nervous. “There is a blockage in her head. The magic it requires to heal her is strong and we do not know if the baby will survive it.”

The baby?

Loki’s mouth fell open but he didn’t find any words. He was already in shock when she fell ill so fast, but to hear about a baby was like a bucket of ice cold water was doused over him. She was pregnant?

The lady knew that there was no time they could waste, so she was forced to move on, “Since you are the father, we need your opinion on the procedure. Are you willing to risk losing the baby-”

“Yes!” Loki couldn’t believe they were asking him that. “Yes, please, I just need her to survive.” He didn’t want to lose the child that he just learned existed, but most importantly he couldn’t imagine losing her. Nothing else mattered than his wife’s well-being. If he lost Y/N, he would lose himself. As tragic as the idea was of possibly losing their unborn child, it would be even worse to lose her. After all, there was only one of Y/N. They could always try to start a family of their own again if they wanted to.

They took her away and Loki was forced to wait outside the infirmary. He had no clue what they were doing to her, and he couldn’t just stand in the hallway and wait. Loki was going to retreat to the privacy of their shared quarters, but it felt like his legs had turned to pillars of ice. As he stood there, taken back by shock and tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, he heard footsteps coming his way. As Loki glanced in the direction, he saw Lady Sif walking there along with Frigga. Right now, the last thing he desired was to talk to anyone.

“What happened?” Frigga seemed concerned, looking into the infirmary and then at her son who had tears in his green eyes. It hurt her to see him like that.

“I don’t know,” Loki realized he hadn’t spoken in a while. He wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, but by now it was dark outside. His heart was still racing and it felt like the world was caving in on him. “She fell ill so suddenly, they said it’s serious,” Loki pushed the words out of his mouth. Saying it out loud just made it real, and now he felt like crying the pain away.

Lady Sif didn’t say anything, but Loki felt a pair of judging eyes on his skin. She probably thought it was Loki’s fault somehow,

Was it?

He couldn’t help but wonder if he had noticed these signs sooner, would she be alright?

Frigga pulled Loki into a hug and he didn’t resist it. In fact, it felt comforting to be held. Had it been any other day recently, he would’ve pushed her away but not now. Loki hugged her back and wished that Sif would turn around. As he leaned against his mother’s touch, he felt his own tears rolling down his face silently.

Y/N was pregnant, but he wouldn’t tell them. Not now.

“She’ll be alright,” Frigga attempted to comfort him. There was a certainty in her voice that Loki wanted to find solace in. He knew there was no way she could tell whether or not Y/N would be alright, but in that moment it was nice to believe that.

The headache had turned into a dull pain, which felt so good compared to what it had been before. It was warm in the air around Y/N and she felt oddly comfortable. She was waking up from sleep, but she couldn’t remember falling asleep. Why was it so dark?

As she opened her eyes, she quickly learned where she was. The palace infirmary. The healer’s weren’t anywhere to be seen, but someone was holding her hand.

It was Loki.

He was awake and he looked at her with glistening eyes. She noticed just how exhausted he looked and it made her heart sting.

The baby!

Y/N had to know the baby was safe. In a moment of worry and confusion, she put her hand on her belly and opened her mouth, “is it safe?”

Then she realized she had never told him. For so many mornings now she had been woken up because of the feisty little thing, that she had grown accustomed to it. If Loki hadn’t known, now he certainly did.

“The baby is safe, Y/N,” Loki finally spoke. He didn’t sound resentful at all. Instead, there was a calm in his voice, because of how relieved he was. Not only did the baby make it, but so did she. The healers had worked their magic just in time and therefore both of them had been saved. For a moment, Loki had been afraid that he had lost them.

Guilt began to crawl beneath her skin. Although she rested comfortably on the soft bed, she didn’t feel good. Nothing had gone to plan. Loki had deserved to find out about the pregnancy differently.

“I was afraid I’d lose you,” Loki admitted, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. It felt so good to hold her, to know she was alive and well.

Slowly, she tilted her head so she could face him. Had Loki been crying? The sight of him like that, with slumped shoulders, messy hair and sad eyes was heartbreaking. As if he hadn’t gone through enough already.

“Thank you,” She barely got the words out of her mouth. Loki had been the one who took her there in time. Surely, if he hadn’t come to the library, she would’ve been sprawled on the couch, book in hand and with a terrible headache - or worse. She didn’t want to think about it.

“They said you had something in your head. It could’ve...it could’ve taken your life,” Loki recalled what the healers had explained to him as he had listened half-heartedly. His mind had been tampered with worried thoughts and guilt-riddled ideas. All that mattered was that they were both safe and sound.

Whatever it was, Y/N was just glad they were alright. All she could think about was the baby. She felt bad for ignoring her symptoms for so long. Had she endangered the fetus? What had caused it? Would she ever know?

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” By now she had teared up. The words struggled to pour from her quivering lips.

Loki brushed his fingers on her face, attempting to comfort her the best way he could. His touch was so gentle, so affectionate. It sent shivers down her spine. The gentle touch reminded her of how things used to be.

“How long have you known?” Loki was almost afraid to ask.

“A few weeks. I wasn’t sure until recently.”

“Right…” He couldn’t blame her for hiding the fact. During the several hours he had spent sitting by her bedside, he had thought over the time they had spent together in the past few weeks since his return. The fact that she could feel guilty about it was mind boggling to him. Loki was angry at himself for just how much he had pushed her away. It was no wonder she didn’t fully trust him. Each time she had tried to connect with him, he had turned a blind eye or he had distracted both of them with sex. As he thought of it, it made his stomach twist in knots.

Y/N could tell that Loki was deep in thought. She squeezed his hand lightly, “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Loki was quick to reassure her. Once again, he felt tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. He hated crying, but sometimes he couldn’t make it stop. It was time for them to fix things.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N blinked and felt tears sliding down across her face and her neck. Despite his comforting words, she felt guilty. The pain she had carried in her heart for weeks now was seeing daylight and it felt fresh. It was all so overwhelming.

Loki leaned closer to her and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She could feel how his lips were trembling ever so slightly.

“It’s going to be alright,” Loki whispered after a while. “I promise. I’ve shut you out for far too long.”

Was he going to open up to her?

Loki recognized the hopeful gleam in her teary eyes. He knew how important it was for both of them to discuss what had happened. They couldn’t move on if they pretended that he had never been gone in the first place. But he wasn’t going to speak of it now when she was recovering.

“I love you, Loki,” She murmured softly and managed to crack a smile.

His heart swelled with affection. God, he loved her more than she could ever know. Loki couldn’t understand how he had treated her, it made him angry.

“I love you too,” He returned the words to her. Loki might’ve been a master at lying, but when he professed his love to her, no one could deny the sincerity in his words.

Carefully, he moved his hand and placed it over her stomach, where he figured the baby was. He felt goosebumps all over his skin as he laid his palm flat over her. Knowing that their child was growing there was astonishing. Loki felt so lucky that he was going to start a family with her.

No more words were needed. Y/N could tell what he was thinking. He loved both of them so much.

A few days later, she was feeling much better. The healers had told her to take it easy for a while, especially now as she was pregnant. Returning to her and Loki’s quarters was exciting. Finally, some proper privacy.

Ever since the incident, something changed in Loki. Perhaps it was the startling revelation that he almost lost her that changed him. Time was precious, even for them. He had been away from her long enough and he wanted to make up for the wasted time.

Although they had been quite happy for the past few days, he knew it would all come to an end, at least for a while as he’d open up about what he had gone through since he last was on Asgard.

Candles had lit the room, making it comfortable and warm. There were a few candles on their nightstands, others on the shelves nearby and some were levitating midair with the little help of magic.

Loki had certainly made her feel welcome in their private space again, after she had stayed away for only a few days. As she saw the tea on a tray by the bed, her heart swelled in her chest. It was so sweet of him.

“You didn’t have to,” She turned to Loki who was right by her side. The joy on her face was irreplaceable to him.

“But I wanted to,” Loki reassured her.

It had been yet another long day and they couldn’t wait to get wrapped in the blankets and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Despite how scared they both had been when she ended up in the infirmary, the time afterwards had been wonderful. Loki had finally softened up again, at least to her.

The two of them sat down on the bed with warm teacups in their hands. For a while, they embraced the silence that settled around them. It was nice.

“You know,” Y/N was the first one to speak, “I’m having a great time, but I was wondering if you’d like that. It’s okay if you don’t.”

“I suppose now is a good time,” Loki’s reply surprised her.

She put her nearly empty cup away as Loki magicked his on the nightstand. The mood shifted slightly, but it was less dramatic than anything that they had went though in the past few weeks. They sat on the bed in a way they could face each other and they were still cosy.

“Where do I even begin?” Loki laughed, but he didn’t sound full of joy. He was genuinely nervous. No one had ever heard this story. No one knew.

Y/N put her hand on his shoulder, attempting to make him relax as much as he possibly could. She sensed that whatever it was that he was going to say, it would be extremely difficult for him. “Were you alone?” She asked him, initiating the conversation. By now, even her heart was racing in her chest. The thought of him being all alone for so long made her sad. She hoped he had good company at least.

Although he sat safely on his bed, Loki could feel the vastness of space around him. He could see the darkness and the stars that were so incredibly far away. There was nothing but stone beneath his feet and he was cold, inside out.

“I was found by a titan, who calls himself Thanos,” Saying his name felt wrong. It was like fire burning on his tongue. “For a while, I was trapped with him. Wherever he went, I did too. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Loki’s entire demeanor changed. He couldn’t look her in the eye. It almost seemed like he was mentally in an entirely different place. Seeing him like that was so unusual for her, and it made her feel terrible.

She put her hand on his arm, running her fingers up and down his skin every so softly, to remind him that she was right by his side.

“When he found me, I was weak. I tried to put up a fight, and he saw what I was capable of. When his puppets showed up, I was outnumbered,” Loki felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fight them off. They were more powerful than he liked to admit.

“It wasn’t your fault,” She reassured him as she recognized the hint of guilt and shame on his face. Loki had been weak when he fell. Most would’ve died after being sucked up by the portal and being thrown out into the emptiness of outer space. The energy was so strong it could end someone’s life in seconds. It was a miracle he survived that alone.

“Thanos wanted me to work for him, to do his dirty work. I refused,” He smiled but it was an empty smile, “which resulted in months of torture.” His smile vanished completely, leaving behind only a shadow of misery.

Although she had expected something awful, she hadn’t thought she’d hear that. Suddenly, it made sense why he had been like that when he returned. Why it looked like he hadn’t slept in months, why he was afraid to put pressure on his other leg almost like he was in pain. Why he had shut everyone out completely and distanced himself physically and emotionally.

Y/N wanted to say something, but it felt like she had eaten flour. Her mouth was dry and she was speechless. Instead, she pulled him closer ever so slightly, hoping to comfort him with her actions.

Loki let himself be embraced by her. In fact, when she wrapped her arms around his body and his face nuzzled the crook of her neck, which made it so easy to inhale her sweet scent, he realized how much he needed it. Loki thought he would have spoken more without getting so emotional, but to even think about the pain he had endured was hard. It made him cold to his core and he felt nauseous all over again. When he hugged her back and let himself get lost in her arms, he could begin to heal.

“I don’t think...I would’ve survived if I hadn’t thought of you,” He said so softly he wasn’t sure if she heard him.

She did.

Picturing Loki being tortured by a titan made Y/N so angry. She hated the fact that someone had made him feel so terrible, forcing him to feel so much pain after everything that he had gone through. Hearing that he thought of her when he was going through it all broke her heart. If only she had been there, right by his side.

“You didn’t deserve that, Loki,” She was surprised she was able to speak. Her lips were quivering as she tried to stay strong for his sake.

Her words were warm. They pushed the cold he was surrounded by away. Perhaps she was right?

Loki pulled back ever so slightly, because he wanted to face her. When he did, he was surprised to see that she was holding back tears. He already had silent tears on his skin that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. What had he done to deserve her?

“I agreed to work for him,” He revealed, skipping ahead of time because there was no way he could’ve gone into details about the nightmare Thanos put him through. Most of the memories were dark, just barely there. It was like his mind didn’t want to remember the tiny details.

“I saw places I didn’t know existed - far beyond the nine realms. I became friends with Nebula. She was Thanos’ daughter,” Loki wasn’t sure if they were quite friends, but she seemed to understand him despite her harsh words and mean attitude. Out of all the children, only Nebula had been someone Loki could tolerate. “We were supposed to find something. I suppose they were called the infinity stones.”

Y/N could’ve sworn she had heard someone mentioning them before, but it didn’t ring any bells now. It did make her curious. Why wouldn’t Thanos go seek them himself? “Did you find them?”

“Well, soft of, yes. Thanos sent me to Midgard to fetch the tesseract. In exchange I was going to be freed,” He explained why he had gone to New York. It had been quite recent, but it felt like so long ago. Loki had been so scared but incredibly determined to get the job done too. He thought it was the only way he’d ever get to see her again, and live a day without excruciating suffering.

Y/N suddenly understood more than before. He hadn’t wanted to go to Earth out of his own will. He was on a mission to win his freedom. She wondered what had happened. Thanos didn’t have the tesseract, but Loki was right there by her side. Did it mean he was safe and free?

“I’m happy you’re here,” She let him know. Having Loki back was the greatest gift she could’ve ever asked for. Although the things that had happened on Midgard weren’t good, she wasn’t mad. She was more furious over the fact that Thor, and others who had done much worse things, pretended that Loki was some kind of villain and they were the heroes.

“I was so scared that Thanos would come here,” and I still am, he thought but left it out. “I failed to deliver the tesseract,Y/N. They…”Loki couldn’t say it. He blinked, and remembered the Other who had threatened him repeatedly.

...If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can not find you. He will make you long for something sweet as pain…

“You don’t have to say it,” Y/N noticed that he got lost in his memories again. She understood if some of them were too hard to speak of now. He had said so much already. It couldn’t have been easy for him. “You’re safe, you’re here with us again. We have all the time in the world to speak of this, one step at the time.”

Gosh, her words were keeping him sane. Loki was able to take a deep breath as he heard that, keeping himself grounded there. He wasn’t with Thanos, and he certainly wasn’t being harmed. He was in the arms of his wife and they were in the palace of Asgard with numerous guards and warriors outside their door. It was quite the resistance if Thanos or his children would show up.

“I think I’ll have to continue tomorrow, dear.”

“That’s okay, Loki. I understand,” She was so understanding.

As Loki looked at her, the daggers in his heart twisted. Thanos knew that she existed. Thanos also knew how to torture others, and the worst torture Loki could’ve possibly imagined was that Thanos would find her. There was no way he could ever let that happen. Loki knew he had to do something to get Thanos off his tracks. Could he make the titan believe he had died? It was something he had to think of sooner than later.

“I love you,” Loki had to voice his feelings. He caught her by surprise when he leaned in for a kiss, but she didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. This time it was sweet and tender. His hands cupped her face and the back of her head and it was sincere. The kiss was bittersweet. It tasted salty like their tears, but it was so passionate. They truly loved one another.

When their lips parted, they stayed close. Their foreheads touched gently and they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s presences for a moment. They let reality sink in.

For the first time in months, Loki felt more like himself again. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was beginning to deal with his issues. There was hope for the future.

“I love you too,” Y/N exclaimed after a while. She placed a sweet kiss on Loki’s neck, then another. There were so many kisses they had to catch up with. She wanted to touch him with love and kindness where others had hurt him, until there wasn’t a trace left of the others.

And Loki wanted to be pampered by her, to get lost in her and forget about all the rest.

His hands travelled down her side, slowly but surely making their way to her hips. Loki wanted her closer, but for the first time in so long, he didn’t know how to ask her. Usually, it was so easy to pull her in and take her, but not now. Everything felt so much more intimate and he felt slightly lost. It had been so long since the last time they had made love.

She felt the way he touched her, so needy, silently asking her to get closer, so she did. Carefully, she straddled his lap which made it so much easier for her to hold him, to touch him and to kiss him. Loki’s hands never left her body as she sat on his lap. There was no rush whatsoever. They wanted to enjoy every little moment they could share.

“Are you sure you want this?” Y/N wondered. After all, he had talked about quite heavy things. Was he in the right mindset?

Loki almost yelled out how much he desired her, but managed to contain himself. “I need you, Y/N.” He needed to feel her, he needed to make her feel his love. He needed to be one with her.

“Okay,” She quickly replied with a small smile. Once again, their lips met in a loving kiss. It felt wonderful. Between the kisses, she made sure to tell him sweet little nothings, “I’m here,” “I got you,” “Everything’s going to be okay.”

A/N: I hope you liked it! I originally planned on having fluffy smut in this, but it would’ve been so long. I’ll have to write sweet Loki smut separately in the future. Please leave your feedback. It always makes me so happy and it means a lot to me. Thank you!

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing

Loki taglist: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02

#Loki #Loki x You #Loki x Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki fanfiction #You flower you feast #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki angst #Loki fluff #Loki hurt/comfort #tw pregnancy #pregnancy

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

Text

what we do

the royal masquerade | kayden vescovi x mc (juliet rosario)

queen juliet rosario and former crown shield kayden vescovi meet up somewhere no one knows who either of them are. for @trmaw ❤️

~2.2k words | T

the sun was high in the sky when juliet stepped out of her carriage, though the light fabric of the casual dress she was wearing helped keep her cool as her feet hit the pavement.

there was no one with her to aid with her skirt as she moved about, no guards or security tending to the horses in an attempt to act casual while they continued to observe her.

it was just her and the driver, out in town, but soon enough, there’d be someone else meeting them, too.

soon enough she’d see kayden again.

they’d parked on the outskirts of a market, and as she made her way through the stalls no one spared her a glance -- there wasn’t a single flicker of recognition in any passing townsperson’s gaze for the queen of cordonia.

that made the long journey she’d endured worth it all on its own.

wandering deeper into the market, she allowed herself to be swallowed up by the crowd, reveling in the simple freedom of walking around unattended, something she was never permitted to do at home.

life had become almost unbearably structured, as of late. she hardly had a moment to herself to breathe, let alone an entire afternoon to disappear. so she planned on taking advantage of every last second she’d have masquerading as a commoner, and that started with exploring the wares around her while she waited for kayden.

“miss?” her pulse stuttered as a vendor called out to her, certain she’d been caught. juliet turned slowly and relaxed as she saw it was only a young man at a flower stall, surrounded by dozens of brilliant blooms. he waved her over, and she went to him with a smile, happy to give him a sale.

but when she stopped in front of the stall, he didn’t try to sell her on any of the bouquets he had available. instead, he presented her with one wrapped set of roses and daisies and the deepest grin she’d seen in a long time. “a gentleman was here earlier,” the vendor explained, as she carefully took the flowers from his hands, “he said to give these to the most beautiful woman at the market, and that i’d know when she arrived.”

juliet scoffed, staring down at the bouquet she was holding in disbelief. she could feel her face grow hot as she looked up to glance around the market.

kayden was already here, then. somewhere.

“thank you,” she said, trying not to sound too flustered as she dipped her head to breathe in the sweet scent of the flowers. “they’re gorgeous, but are you sure they’re for me?”

“quite sure.” juliet stilled, realizing the boy at the stall’s mouth hadn’t moved. no, the deep voice who’d said the words was one she’d recognize anytime, anywhere.

she turned slowly and met kayden’s eyes, feeling her rapidly beating heart jerk to an abrupt stop.

kayden smiled softly at her as their eyes locked. “i knew he wouldn’t fail me,” he said, stepping closer. “it’s hardly a competition.”

the bustle of the market around them faded into the background as she moved forward, too, to meet kayden, shifting the flowers she was holding into one arm so her free hand could reach for his. “it’s good to see you,” juliet said quietly, biting back a sigh as kayden’s fingers twined with hers, the simple and innocent brush of skin on skin immensely comforting. “thank you for the gift.”

kayden lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the ridge of her fingers before gently leading her away from the flower stall. “it was nothing,” he said, “i’m glad it worked out.”

there was a pause as they paced back towards the outskirts of the town square. she knew they were both thinking the same thing -- how impossible it’d be for kayden to do anything as lovely for her, back home. how relegated he’d been to a private life, how they were barely even able to look at each other, anymore.

juliet shook her head, determined to cast the dark thoughts from her mind. this was not the time nor the place for such a discussion. their outings were few and far between; there should be nothing to taint them.

they reached a stone fountain out of view from most of the market. she glanced up and saw that the driver who’d accompanied her for security was nearby but doing his best to give her privacy, and relaxed as they both sat on the ledge. kayden moved to take the flowers from her and set them aside, then grasped her other hand, too.

“it is a gift, to see you,” he murmured, seeming to realize he’d failed to say as much, earlier. “i’ve missed you terribly since we were last together.”

it had been quite some time. fabian had left the kingdom for foreign relations with a neighboring province and she’d been able to spend the night at hunter’s without drawing raised eyebrows. fortunately, hunter had remained a good and loyal friend in addition to his standing as her policy advisor, allowing she and kayden to meet in secret and revel in the luxury of privacy.

but that was nearly an entire month ago. her heart ached as she studied the weary lines of kayden’s face, his expression set with longing. how unfair, that a soul as vibrant as his should be forced to wait around for the half-romance she could afford him.

it seemed even being queen could not solve all injustices in the world.

“i’ve missed you far more than you know,” she agreed, her voice tight with emotion. juliet blinked, leaving her eyes shut momentarily to try to dispel some of the thick sadness shrouding her voice. the last thing they needed now was for kayden to be stuck comforting her on their one afternoon alone.

but when she fluttered her lashes back open she saw him still smiling patiently, fondness in his eyes, and that just made her heart ache worse.

“tell me you’ve been well,” he prompted, drawing a chuckle from her despite herself. only kayden could worry about whether she was eating or sleeping enough in the palace.

“as well as expected, without you.” his hands squeezed hers tightly, the rough pad of his calloused thumb dragging across the backs of her knuckles. part of him seemed almost pleased to hear she was unwell without him, though she knew she could hardly blame him for that. in her more selfish moments, she felt the same way. “and yourself?”

“the same,” kayden said quietly. though his lips were only slightly turned up at the corners, she could read the smile in his eyes perfectly, and marveled at how intuitive his once-stoic face now felt to her. after so long spent studying kayden, it seemed she could read him now with just a glance. so there was no missing the slight nervousness on his expression when he said, “i have some news.”

“oh?” juliet tried to keep her voice light even as her mind raced with possibilities. she couldn’t help but to assume the worst -- that kayden was leaving cordonia, that he was no longer interested in a secret relationship, that he was sick...

seemingly sensing her hesitation, kayden squeezed her hand comfortingly. “hunter is reinstating me as his head of security.”

she blinked. “he is?”

kayden’s lips spread into a real smile, then. he nodded. “he feels the decision will be well supported after some of the recent attention.”

hunter was probably right. over the last year, kayden had been working tirelessly with the local orphanage, relocating many of the children and providing resources for the rest. he’d spent hours doing work her administration barely took an interest in, despite her pushing. he’d very nearly singlehandedly led the effort to fix the problems from the inside out.

juliet was quiet momentarily as her head spun with the news. kayden’s return to his former role meant he’d be around more, certainly, and in an approved context. it would no longer seem suspicious to be seen with him; there would be a reason for him to be at the palace.

but it also meant he’d return, more prominently, to the public eye. the people would have a chance to get used to him again, to come around after they’d once turned their backs.

and that opened up a variety of possibilities.

she had to actively work not to get carried away by the news. she knew she couldn’t allow herself to be too excited just yet; possibilities always came with challenges and this new development was sure to bring problems along for the ride, too.

but the spark of hope she felt was thrilling regardless. her own face split with a grin, and juliet moved to clasp both of kayden’s hands together in hers. “he’s absolutely right. that’s wonderful news. for both of us, of course, but... for you especially. i can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

her nagging guilt flared up again. for so long, she’d stewed over the fact that she was in the palace while kayden faced derision, when all he’d ever done was protect her in an effort to help cordonia. the public that despised him had no idea how much he’d sacrificed for their benefit, so that she could lead them to a brighter future.

thoughts of what more she could do to help him kept her up at night. she’d spent many hours planning ways to both steal time with kayden and work to help him without drawing attention, and finally felt a small step towards justice had been taken.

“it will be nice to get back to what i am familiar with,” kayden said humbly, but the bashful look on his face said he was pleased by her recognition. “and of course there’s the added benefit of getting to spend more time with you.”

one of his hands lifted to gently brush a lock of hair off her forehead. he leaned in closer, his eyes intense. “just being able to see you will put my heart at ease, juliet. finally i’ll have a break from wondering about you with my every thought.”

without pausing to spare a glance around the square, she leaned in and kissed him, pressing in close. the overwhelming affection within her swelled and burst as the familiar scrape of kayden’s stubble scratched her skin, the passion in his kiss so comforting she let herself drown in it greedily.

his hands tangled in her hair, pulling the careful curls out of shape. carelessly, juliet wound her arms around him, too, drawing closer and closer until there was nowhere else to go. she only realized she’d groaned into his mouth when kayden’s teeth caught her bottom lip in answer, clutching her body tighter to his.

she was suddenly desperate to be somewhere more private, and as kayden made it his mission to steal every last breath from her lungs she wondered if it would be inappropriate to drag him back to the carriage she’d taken into town so they could be alone. but her decision was made for her as kayden pulled back, eyes as bright as the smile that was still fixed on his face.

“i came here to hear your voice,” he said, laughing shortly, “i shouldn’t waste all our time together this way.”

“oh, but it’s very welcome,” juliet assured him with a grin, catching his mouth in one last soft kiss before drawing back with a content sigh. “hardly a waste at all. i know what you mean, though.” many of her dreams at the palace simply revolved around just spending time with kayden as they used to. who knew how long it would be before they would have some time alone together again?

she knew it would be slow going -- that it would take time for the public to get used to kayden again, that it might never be possible for her to establish what she had always wanted, from the very moment she made her first bid at queen...

...but it was hard to care when the here and now was so alluring, the man seated before her appearing so effortlessly as everything she’d ever wanted.

her teeth bit at her sore bottom lip as she observed kayden from beneath her lashes. he was looking back at her fondly, in a way that made her pulse gallop. “well, we do have the whole day,” she mused, humming as he took her hands gently in his again.

the sunny smile he was sporting boosted her own mood significantly. “let’s make the most of it, then,” kayden suggested, standing to pull her up, too.

juliet’s gaze swept the town square and the market beyond it, alive with food and strangers and opportunity, a rare luxury for two people who lived with secrets such as they did.

there was much to take advantage of, and the sun was high in the sky. she couldn’t think of a more advantageous situation to be in.

“let’s,” she agreed, gathering herself and her flowers to follow kayden back to life beyond their hiding place, her hope renewed.

#trmaw #kayden vescovi #the royal masquerade #kayden vescovi x mc #myfic #long post

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬

@grow-a-smile-for-a-while requested: i request 7 fluff + 10 angst please? With either Bakugou or Shinsou. (With 10 angst being them worried about the readers mental health) Thank you so much love ur writing!!1! 💗💗

anonymous requested: 7 fluff soulmate au for shinsou please!! Love your work 💛

prompt for milestone event: “I think you might be my soulmate.” + “I’m worried about you.” genre: soulmate au. angst with a bit of fluff. pairing: shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader word count: 3.1k+ warnings: implications of mental health issues.

author’s note: I combined the two requests since they both share the same prompt! This is actually my first time writing a soulmate au so I hope it’s alright. Special thank you to my lovely beta readers @tamasoft & @etegomanere!

Throughout his entire life, Shinsou has only ever known the colors white, black, and gray.

They’re colors that prevent him from fully embracing the world as he walks through life each day peering through muddy lenses. Some say beyond the glass that obscures them all lies a realm painted in beautiful hues, teeming with an euphoria of colors outside the monochrome of perpetual black and white.

If such a paradise exists, Shinsou has yet to see or meet anyone that has ever set foot in that world. In fact, he honestly doubts such a thing is real, and has long adapted into his endless days stuck between the grays filtering through his vision.

However, today, he experiences something entirely new.

Today, he sees the color red.

It starts early in the morning, from the very moment he lifts himself up from his bed at the white sunlight trickling into his dorm room. There, with unlidded eyes, he glimpses into a vibrant, spontaneous pigment that lines itself on the outside.

Shinsou blinks twice, squinting, unsure if the grisly stain invading his vision is really there. But after consecutively rubbing his eyes in an attempt to brush it away, he groans when the angry color has yet to leave. The crimson that surrounds him is very much real.

With an average person, they’d be ecstatic, absolutely joyful at the change happening before—no, within their very eyes. What they’re seeing now is only a step forward toward that rumored world of infinite hues—a whole artist’s palette of colors waiting for them. Sadly, that isn’t the case for Shinsou as he realizes he’ll have to go about his day lugging such… severity surrounding him.

The extremity of the hue that covers the corner of his sight reminds him of fires setting ablaze in the thick of a forest. It hurts to look at, hurts to stride through his day with such an intense color following his every move like it’s tormenting him. If this is what the other colors are like, he’d rather keep to his monochromatic existence, please. Just even looking up and darting his head around is enough to give him a headache.

“Whoa, my man Shinsou, you okay?” Shinsou’s classmate, Kaminari, asks him while the upbeat boy takes his seat to his right, noticing the grim expression on his classmate’s face that likely isn’t due to any lack of sleep this time, considering its austerity.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” Shinsou assures, managing to suppress the extra strain leaking out when he turns his head. With the red intensifying at his movements, he wills himself just to look straight ahead for now. That’s all he needs to get through the school day anyway—directing his eyes to the front of the classroom where their homeroom teacher, Aizawa, enters to give them the news for the day. And yet, he can’t help but allow himself drift to your empty desk lying to his left, located one seat down the column from his.

He grumbles. That makes it three days now—three days since you last attended class.

Shinsou knows you haven’t been going to class because you “weren’t feeling well”—the answer you gave him when he approached you last night as you were walking down the hallway to your room.

He knew something was wrong. Your demeanor in that moment felt off, it was strange and unlike you.

You were rubbing your hands up and down your skin, acting like just being in his presence was nerve-wracking, and you never once met his eyes during the conversation. No matter how often he craned his head to see you, you made a point to turn away each time. And much to Shinsou’s concern, he also caught onto the heavy bags afflicted beneath your eyes. You looked like you haven’t had much of an ounce of sleep, despite taking time off from classes to recover. It only seemed that you were only getting worse at that point, and he grew worried every second in front of you.

But before Shinsou could pry further, you hastily ended the exchange with a sputtered good night and retreated back to your dorm room, slamming the door shut as if to reinforce a barrier that would keep him away. The next thing he knew, he headed to sleep, and woke up seeing the color red.

Staring at the vacant desk instills something in him that makes the red glow brighter, consuming more of his grayscale almost angrily. He winces as the throb courses through his head with growing intensity.

“Shinsou, you alright?”

Aizawa directs his concern toward him in the middle of his lecture when he notices Shinsou shrink in his seat at the pain. From the very moment he turns to answer his teacher, the pulses bleeding into his head subside, and the fiery hues return to a tamer tinge.

He answers Aizawa with a small nod, though it isn’t enough to dispel the teacher’s doubt right away. Aizawa, in turn, raises a brow, discreetly gauging his student’s condition. Luckily for Shinsou, it isn’t long until he brushes it off and resumes the lecture, gathering the students’ attention again, aside from the boy on Shinsou’s right.

Kaminari flattens his hand next to his mouth, words coming out in a whisper only audible enough for his friend to hear, “Dude, I don’t think you’re okay… You looked like you were going through some severe migraine when I got into the classroom.”

“I told you, it’s nothing, okay?” Shinsou replies, not diverting his eyes from the front of the room and putting Kaminari’s concern to rest for now as he shrugs in return.

However, his words aren’t enough to impede his headaches from coming back during the day. They grow more potent than ever as the crimson ignites across his vision.

What the hell is going on? Shinsou questions at this point when Midnight, their instructor for today’s hero course, advises him to head to the nurse’s office after he stumbles across the training field one too many times to be healthy for him. Begrudgingly following her order, he lugs himself to Recovery Girl’s office, who advises him to have a seat before she assesses his condition.

“So, you’ve been having headaches, have you?” the old woman asks, voice coming out like sandpaper while she scans across a page on her clipboard. “Tell me, when did they start?”

Shinsou rubs the back of his neck. “Just this morning, when I woke up,” he answers, “and they’ve only been getting worse.” He leans forward on his elbows settled atop his thighs, grumbling under his breath over the mess of his day so far. The red surrounding him swells relentlessly in waves. He narrows his brows tightly at the vermillion adjoining his hands, delving into the crevices of his palms as they pulse like a heartbeat.

Recovery Girl hums between those thin, balmy lips of hers, gloved finger beneath her chin before she decides to hop off her seat and head toward the cabinets.

“Well, this isn’t a wound or physical injury of some sort, so I can’t use my quirk to heal you. However, I can prescribe you a drug used to relieve migraines if that’s fine.”

He nods and Recovery Girl rummages through the shelves and pulls out a transparent container. With her small steps slowly approaching toward him, Shinsou gets up to meet her in the middle, hand held out to retrieve the medicine.

“I also suggest you head back to your dorm for now and rest up. You’re in no condition to train at the moment.”

“Right, thanks,” Shinsou says, burying the container in the pocket of his pants. He gets up from his seat, steps proceeding to the exit of her office. When he makes it to the doorway, a thought finds its way at the forefront of his mind, and he pauses for a minuscule moment.

“Recovery Girl,” he decides to call out, head tilted in the small woman’s direction.

“Yes?”

“Has Y/n been seeing you recently? About her… unwellness?” He words carefully, unsure of how to put your condition to light when he was still kept in the dark from you.

Recovery Girl shows her confusion between the small, wrinkled features on her face. She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t heard or seen much of her recently. Why? Is something wrong?”

Shinsou’s lips purse together, an uneasy feeling creeping on him that the stain on his vision reacts to instantly. He feigns a stoic expression over the backlash not to worry the lady, his right hand clutching over the shape formed on his pocket from the container underneath.

“It’s fine. I’ll check on her when I get back to the dorms,” he tells her, and the old lady simply blinks, her aged, dull senses unaware.

“Very well. Make sure to get your rest and take your painkillers, alright?”

“Yeah, I know.”

With that, Shinsou makes his leave. Unusual to him, however, his steps begin to pick up for some reason at every stride down the hallways of the building. He’s not sure where this urgency is coming from, but he can’t find it within himself to stop moving, and in fact, quickens his pace until he’s making his way back to the Heights Alliance dormitories.

The gray in his eyes is now gone. Red is what consumes his sight, vividly turning every shade around him into crimson. Whatever crosses his path bleeds and quivers in jagged red edges, from wooden floorboards to the sunlight filtering through the windows. He’s not sure what this could mean, but the one thing Shinsou is certain about is that something is wrong. And he needs to go to you.

True to his word, the first thing he does is jab the button on the elevator to the building’s highest floor, walking out after his ascent with eyes aimed at your dorm room. What comes next is three firm knocks against the wood of your door, making a point to let his presence be known on the off chance you can’t hear him.

“Y/n?” he voices, your name echoing in the empty expanse of the hallway on his side, “It’s me, Shinsou. Please open up. I just want to check on you.”

There’s approximately three seconds of pause before Shinsou leans into the door, ear pressing against it to catch any sign of movements on the other side. He hears a rustle or two until it’s replaced by the padding of feet on the floor. Standing back, he prepares for the door to open as the golden doorknob rattles into a turn.

“Shinsou,” you greet quietly with the entrance’s slow swing, where he sees you peer at him from a crack between the door. Your tired eyes find him, and he immediately notes the bagginess still persisting underneath. They give his own dark eye bags a run for their money.

Though his edginess remains, the red dissipates back into grays, blacks, and whites. His head is now absent of those headaches that plagued him as he gazes through those muddy, monochromatic lenses again.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t class going on right now?”

“It is, but I was sent back,” Shinsou tells you, eyes never leaving yours as he observes you attentively. “wasn’t feeling well.”

You cross your arms on your chest, looking down while you squeeze a bit of your skin to busy your hands. There’s a significant silence between you two that Shinsou wishes didn’t drag on for so long. Before he can come up with anything to resolve the tension, you’re already a step ahead, beating him in breaking the silence.

“Well… if that’s all then I’m going to head back to my room,” you say. Your hand clutches the doorknob to pull it back in, but Shinsou’s quick to act.

“No, wait—!”

He braces his foot between the gap just in time to stop the door’s movement, the hinges creaking due to the sudden halt. Staring at him, you’re dazed by his actions as he pries the crack open further.

“Y/n, I know there’s something wrong,” he states, hoping his usual keen intuition is enough for you not question this. He doubts you’d believe him if he ever told you the very color red led him to this moment.

You deny his claims, fingers firm on the knob. “I told you yesterday that it was nothing.”

“No. You’re not alright, Y/n.” His calloused hands cup your face, tilting up to guide you to his eyes—eyes that appear just as gray to you as they are to him. You stare into them, unable to reply at how unyielding he is toward your condition.

Despite the homologous grayscale of colors, Shinsou can see it all. He sees the stress carried in your eyes, down to the tension in your face that tires from feigning smiles every day. He knows you’re hurting just keeping up the withering cracks of your fortitude. Yet you can’t stop yourself from picking up your porcelain again, trying to mend them with the cruddy glue that is your mentality. If you continue this, you’d surely fall apart into too many pieces to put back together.

“Please, talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

You have no idea how much those words have an effect on you. Not until you’re suddenly weeping in front of him, tears spilling down your eyes as your throat begins to sunder into sobs. All he can do is offer you the solace of his warm embrace as he tugs your arm so your form is drawn into his body. He feels the tears prickle into his shirt, wetness seeping into his skin, but he doesn’t care. Shinsou holds you in his arms and pats against your hair gently, treating you like you are delicate earthenware bound to break as you tremble.

“I-I’m just s-so tired, and stressed, and I-I don’t know w-what to do s-s-sometimes,” you sob between words, voice muffled into his chest. Shinsou hushes you softly, unwavering in warmth.

“It’s okay. I know. You can let it all out, I’m here for you,” he assures firmly. The two of you stay there in that position for some time, your cries isolated in the empty expanse of the hallway with the dormitory vacant except for yourselves. When they begin to die down, Shinsou perceives his vision changing again.

This time, what greets him is a muted blue. The shade is not far off from the steely grays he’s accustomed to, but distinguishable enough for him to notice the change. It’s a sad color that reminds him of tears and lonely clouds.

Shinsou glimpses down at you, your body finally still against him, yet he can tell your aches are far from healed.

You sniffle, backing away when you realize you’re still nuzzled into his chest, now stained with damp patches on his white button-up. He gives you your space, smoothing the strands of your hair one last time before he parts. Though he makes an effort to hold your hand as your other rubs the hot wetness away from your puffy eyes.

“You… alright?” he asks, lightly squeezing your fingertips. You don’t give him much, just a slow, descending nod that is enough for him to continue gingerly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your initial hesitance almost makes him retract his question, afraid that he may have poked further than was comfortable, but you mitigate that thought with another nod, allowing him inside your dorm room.

When your door clicks to a close, you lean against it and watch as the taller boy stands aimlessly in the middle of the room.

“Shinsou?” you call, and he perks up.

“Yeah?”

“How did you know... what was going on?” you ask, voice drawing out across your room quietly.

For once, Shinsou doesn’t have an answer. He stands there, silent, unable to approach your question with a clear response. But there’s a lingering voice in his head telling him that he knows what led him to you deep down.

The colors.

He realizes the red enveloping his vision this entire time was connected to you. From waking up, glimpsing at your desk, to mentioning any thought of you, the color only ever intensified. And it calmed down at the very moment you opened your door, turning blue from your sadness washing in waves before him.

Shinsou draws in a breath of air. He’s not sure how to relay this notion in any other way than the words that cross his mind.

I think you might be my soulmate.

His heart suddenly flutters at the mere inkling of the words spoken in his head. It sounds almost far-fetched, reminding him of romantic fairy tales narrated in storybooks. Still, he can’t conjure any other resolution than this—can’t find any explanation for these connections of colors that bind your consciousness to him.

A small, inner part in him desires to blurt this out to you, let it be known of the fate stringing your pinkies together through the pigments painted on his canvas. But staring back into your swollen, tired eyes, he knows he can’t do that right now. What you need is for him to be by your side and help you recollect your thoughts. Learning about the possibility that you’re his soulmate is likely the last thing you want to hear in your condition.

He shakes his head, brows knitting together. “I’m not entirely sure about it myself,” he starts warily, coming closer to reach out for your hand again, “but all I know is that whatever happened led me here to you. Told me when you were at your weakest.” Shinsou twines your fingers together, lightly pulling you away from the door and toward the middle of the room. “And that was enough for me to come.”

When the comforting words depart his mouth, he swears that in an infinitesimal moment, those grays of his canvas spatter with droplets of color as he gazes down at you with only compassion in his eyes. That his black and white world transforms into that rumored paradise of beautiful hues for just a second until in the next blink, they’re gone.

He doesn’t know what to make of it, but it’s sufficient for him that whenever he glimmers into your eyes, colors are lying in wake underneath the monochrome. So he clutches your hand in his, allowing you to spill your thoughts out to relieve them off your shoulders as he hopes that one day, you and him can walk in tandem together into the color.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnhabookclub #bnha scenarios #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou scenarios #mha x reader

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

Text

Reluctant hurt/comfort? Why yes!

Both Tim and Jon have a bad time after the Buried.

cw fever, illness, vomit mention, suicidal ideation, grief. Also as a note, the night I wrote this was a hard one, and the day after was worse and this might reflect that. I don't think this is one I can go back through and comb for more cws, so hopefully that is warning enough. Stay safe, and enjoy something that was very cathartic to write.

The day after the Buried, it doesn’t even occur to Tim that he should be hungry. He hasn’t needed to eat in so long that he simply forgets. Just downs glass after glass of water in the break room after a shower that lasts far longer than the meager supply of hot water. He can’t be fucked that Daisy and Jon still need to wash the muck off. At least Daisy has somewhere to go, Basira is hovering around, ready to ferry her out of this hell archive.

Of course, it’s his own fault that he doesn’t have a flat.

He supposes he owes Jon. Or something.

He doesn’t care.

He’s still angry. And tired and filthy and depressed. The only thing the buried did was keep him from dying. Hell of a suicide watch to be on.

Sometimes when he closed his eyes down there, he could believe it was Jon or Martin lying on him. Keeping his fingers from itching to do harm… Well, almost, anyhow.

After that, he sleeps. And sleeps.

And, well, after that. He feels like shit.

Complete shit.

When he was a teen with soup for brains, Danny got sick. A bad flu, but he couldn’t keep anything down for three days. Three days of foisting broths and lucozade on his brother with little success. Should have been taken to hospital, by all rights, but their mother didn’t really believe in the whole modern medicine thing, and well. Dad was away, so Tim couldn’t even get Danny to an adult who could help, even if he didn’t give a damn. It had been awful.

He really thought his little brother was dying. Cracked and dry lips, fever so high that he wasn’t coherent. Three days he sat vigil. Praying to a god he barely believed in.

A fever that scooped out his brother until he was praying for a breathing corpse. Giving oblations of thin liquid.

On the third day, his eyes opened and he stroked Tim’s hand, as Tim shook with exhaustion by his bedside. He had to be propped up to sip at his broth, but it was far better than trickling it down his unconscious baby brother’s throat.

Pure helplessness. Both in empathy for his brother, who was probably having a worse time than Tim, and because he was next to useless.

Three days and Tim can’t keep down food. Gave up trying. Just shivers on the cot, gazing nearly sightlessly at the ceiling, muscles too wasted to move. He doesn’t know if anyone notices that he’s gone. He hasn’t heard any word from Martin. Basira and Daisy fucked off days ago, as far as Tim can reckon. Then again, he doesn’t have so much as a working phone. He doesn’t even know if it’s been three days or thirty.

His skin feels hot and tight. Like the Buried is taking a new approach to suffocating him. A dreadful thirst clawing at him, but he doesn’t have the strength to stand and get water anymore. Barely could limp his way there before the lack of food and probable fever stole what little he had left.

Is this just some divine punishment for prodding too hard at the forces of evil in the universe?

He’d finally come to terms with the abstract and incidental nature of these things, but he can’t help the hazy imagining that he deserves this.

Failed to keep his brother safe, for all his bedside bargaining and promises made to the wind on long walks after his brother disappeared. All the broken promises betwixt his savior and himself. Bitter words corroding promises that could have been harder than diamond.

It was his fault. Couldn’t hold up his end, and he deserves this dreadful heat and the foul desert of his mouth. His body generating his own funeral pyre.

He wishes he could bring himself to care. But all he’s known since Jon betrayed him has been anger and dissent disinterest.

There is an ache at his very core.

He lies there, on the cot. Tangled in the sheets. Bone dry. Dry as parched soil. For he has no moisture to spare for sweat. His own body out of anything that could bring his temperature down.

Finding Tim isn’t easy. Jon’s body betrays him after the Buried. Months of uneasy sleep, and days of pressure on all the wrong parts of him leave him poorly put together and his joints slipping apart at the slightest provocation. He spends days on the floor of his office, in too much pain to move, too dizzy to stand, and running a fever from the pain in his squashed and shitty joints.

His own fault, but a small price to pay for Tim and Daisy.

He would have stayed there if it meant getting them back.

One less monster.

Of course the Eye doesn’t let him die. Aren’t humans supposed to die if they don’t drink water for three days?

He spends most of his time passing out when he tries to stand.

And he can’t bring himself to care. He’s so tired. Too tired.

He didn’t expect anyone to come after him. Certainly not Tim. Not after everything.

Well maybe he hoped.

(He did).

(Damn his… well it isn’t optimism. Damn his longing for someone to give a shit if he vanishes for days. He should know by now that no one is coming. No one ever does.)

Groggy and foggy and battered.

He’s tired. He needs a proper mattress for just one night, but he can’t even get off the floor. Just lays in the remnants of mud, waiting to whither like the corpse he is, one just hasn’t stopped breathing yet (again).

But something draws him upright, more or less. Clinging to the walls, bracing his stilted journey on aching limbs.

It’s probably the Eye. Probably the Eye, or maybe Jon’s piercing curiosity, control slackened by fever, peering though a hairline fracture in the door of his mind.

He all but crawls to the cot, securing a half empty water bottle from somewhere he probably should be worried about, but he arrives to find Tim burning away before him as his own vision swims dangerously.

A face in front of his. Features obscure and unreadable. He can read the worry in those eyes. Even in the half light.

Tim couldn’t hear Jon in the Buried. His hearing aids long since ran out of life. All for the best, for the singing of the coffin in the rain will haunt his dreams (not only in a spooky way) for the rest of his life.

Only knew it was Jon by Jon guiding his (Tim’s) hand with too thin and gentle and burned fingers to his (Jon’s) mouth. So Tim could read his lips by feel. An imprecise thing, but better than nothing.

Filthy fingers against dry and dusty lips. Almost like a kiss. Perhaps more intimate.

The face hovers closer. Thin and careful fingers soothing his brow.

Pressing water to his lips. Mouthing words that are lost to Tim. And even if they reached him, he knows he wouldn’t understand them.

Is this Danny before him? Would he know his own brother? After all these years? After the Stranger chewed him up and regurgitated …whatever. Is he lost as much as Sasha had been? Like she’d been?

And what good would knowing that do? He would rather keep the memories he has, doesn’t want to know the creeping uncertainties that plague him when he closes his eyes.

He supposes that the advantage of the Buried is that it keeps the mind off things that aren’t the slow process of returning stone to stone in a way that obliterates everything in between. Everything but fear.

Not Danny, but Jon, Tim discovers. Pulled awake by uneasy stomach, and panicked breath, to find Jon fluttering out of consciousness by his side.

He wants to be put out that they are flush with each other, but …but they were closer still in the choking darkness with air thick with the soil that Tim swears he can feel coating his internal organs.

He’s drifting off again when he hears Jon gasp awake, looking nearly as unwell as Tim feels.

The small figure curled at his back is not his brother. But he feels as warm and as fragile as Danny did when he sat his vigil. Counting the seconds between breaths. His heart stuttering when they lagged and caught in his raw throat in the muted hours between sunset and sunrise. The hours that Tim feared if he stopped willing the next breath to happen, they wouldn’t.

But Jon is hardly human. His pulse is jittery and uneven. Each breath just a little more strained than they should be. Likely matching Tim’s own.

Some distant part of him… the distant part that can feel Jon’s pulse when the rest of him is floating away, untethered to a body too light and empty without topsoil and rich loam to brace him into and against the earth… worries that his own furnace of a temperature is too high and will roast Jon.

Another equally distant part of him is annoyed that Jon dares to share this pyre of internal heat with him. …If this is how he goes out, he wishes he saw the stars when he still had any strength.

Tim wakes again to cool water against his tongue.

Jon is mumbling to himself fervently. And Tim can recognize that look. That fear. That determination. The will of someone breathing for someone else. Holding their life-force steady in the mind. Knowing to let it faulter is a death sentence. With wild certainty that is bounded in something beyond reason, for when you are willing another person to breathe, you are often beyond the reach of science.

And Tim wonders who Jon could possibly be breathing for, because there is no universe in the extensive multiverse that Jon would ever will the life into someone who has spewed such hateful things and led another fragile being he swore to protect to his death.

And yet…

Tim exhales deeply. Sliding into what looks to be a restful sleep for the first time in uncounted months. Watching the rise and fall of his chest look more natural and less like an afterthought, what little strength Jon had found, abandons him. And he curls himself around Tim. A small and fragile and dusty shield. And is asleep in an instant. Knowing without a doubt that Tim will sleep comfortably through the night, and if anything changes, Jon will know. Both in body and from beyond the waterlogged door in his mind.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #hoh tim #pots jon #eds jon #tw sucidal ideation #alex dont look #cw nausea

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bffsoobin · 4 years

Text

Windflower

01|02|03|04|05|06

↳ after a heartbreak you find yourself in a small town looking for purpose. you find employment with Choi Soobin and his impressive ancestral home. when you start to fall in love again, there’s no way for you to predict what you find in the depths of the home and Soobin’s mind.

➤ hanahaki au, angst, slight fluff, dark themes

Word Count:6,881

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of sickness and feeling generally unwell, mentions of doctors/medical treatments, deception, descriptions of anxiety/panic, horror, pain, major character death, general dark themes! Please proceed with caution if you’re sensitive! (also I did not proof read)

A/N:excuse my language; but holy fuck. I cannot believe this is the end of Windflower. This is insane. Windflower is my passion project, and the desire to write it is half the reason I opened my account on here. While it hasn’t been the most popular writing on my blog, I have been really really proud of it. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting this since the beginning! I love you all!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Soobin sat with his head dipped toward the dark wooden dining table. He was scrolling through what appeared to be a website for a plant nursery; as if he needed more within the home. You were sitting opposite of him, peeking over the top of your laptop where you were pretending to read an article on the ten best shows coming to Netflix this fall. Following the night of your drunken rage, the two of you had patched up your relationship as well as you possibly could. You’d traded apologies, talked it out over a store-bought cheesecake and moved on.

At least, you assumed he had. He acted as if you hadn’t accused him of being some type of fraud and proclaimed that you could no longer trust him. Everything was eerily the same, despite Soobin’s increased caution around you in certain settings. Gone were the days of him laying a hand on your back as you cooked or resting his head on your shoulder while you both dozed off on the couch.

You should have been grateful for his physical distance. Happy that he was giving you the room you had hinted at needing on that night a few weeks ago. Instead you were annoyed. Frustrated at the way you craved to feel his comforting touch even though you knew it would only bring you more pain in the end. For a while, you worried that his avoidance meant he had seen the evidence of your stupidity floating within the toilet bowl, but you knew Soobin well enough to know that he would have talked to you about it. Right? He would have brought it up; although slowly and with extreme caution, and asked you what he could do to help. He had proven himself to be mature and thoughtful, even after you’d tried to push him away.

He finally stirred in his seat across the table. You could actually hear a few of his bones crack with the movement and you stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He tried to sound intimidating, but his voice was so inherently soft around the edges that you couldn’t hold back the laugh.

“You’re just an old man,” you were poking at him, you knew, but it felt good. You felt normal. Almost like you were back to the time when the two of you were truly just friends. He planted both of his large, vascular hands flat on the table and leaned his weight forward.

“I’m an old man? You do know we’re the same age, Y/N. So if I’m so old...” he paused for dramatic affect as you stared up at him in amused awe. “Then you must be ancient.”

An offended gasp, obviously feigned, slipped between your lips; which you now noticed you’d chewed raw as you were thinking earlier.

“How dare you? I am the epitome of youth! My hair is flowing, my skin is flawless,” you pointed to a blemish on your chin you knew for a fact you’d had for days. “My youthful beauty is unmatched, can’t you tell?” You weren’t sure where your sudden good mood had come from but you basked in it. Even as Soobin used his hands as leverage to lean closer to your face, you didn’t budge. You couldn’t. This close up, you could spot every single little freckle on his face. The dynamic shades of his irises became more and more distinct until he finally stopped advancing toward you. It was easily the closest the two of you had been in weeks.

“Hm, you’re right. I can tell. There’s something about you...” he squinted his eyes as if he were scrutinizing your every feature. “You are beautiful, Y/N.”

The sentence brought an unwanted visceral reaction through your body. It was too much like a confession, too close to the exact words you needed to hear from him. A shooting pain rippled through your heart. You shuddered out an exhale, shutting your eyes tight as if that would stave away the pain. In a blind panic, you pushed away from the solid table and made to put as much distance between yourself and Soobin as possible. Then your migraine hit, the feeling like someone had stuck a red hot iron rod behind both of your eyes. Fuck. On top of that pain, a cough worked its way up your throat, producing a petal into your mouth that was slimy and bitter.

You only made it two and a half steps before your knees gave out, sending you hurtling toward the floor in a free fall. Sticking your hands out just before the impact, you accepted the fact that you were about to get a concussion out of your own inability to properly distance yourself from an unrequited love. But the sensitive skin of your face never bounced off of the original hardwood flooring you had once drooled over.

“Y/N?” Soobin was panicked, stooped down next to you as he had managed to barely break your fall and turn you around to lay on your back. Your vision was still swimming, but you cracked open your eyes very slowly.

‘What’s wrong? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No,” you croaked out, “was just a migraine.” Soobin scoffed.

“I’ve never seen anyone nearly pass out from just a migraine, Y/N. And in all the months I’ve known you, you’ve never-”

“I’m fine.” You asserted, sitting up as well as you could with his arms wrapped protectively around your shoulders. “They used to happen the last time I- uh, when I was in college. It’s okay, they’ll pass.” You were lying right through your teeth. The last time you had a migraine this badly, your then roommate had rushed you to the emergency room and discovered that you had hanahaki. There was no doubt that history was repeating itself.

“Okay.” He was frowning, obviously unconvinced as he pushed a hand against your lower back. “At least let me help you upstairs.”

----

The migraine either dissipates or you simply become accustomed to it. The petal you had coughed into a tissue when you first reached your room had dried, sitting on your bedside table in its perfect little form to mock you. You were so disgusted that you couldn’t even bring yourself to throw it away. No longer sensitive to light, you shrugged out from underneath your sheets and stretched your limbs until they cracked. A dull thumping was still present at the base of your skull; a reminder of what you’d just suffered. A sickly feeling of anxiety passed through you like a breeze, making the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention. Soobin was clearly not convinced by your insistence that your sudden ailment was nothing of concern. And he was right. In all the time you’d been around him, you never once experienced a spell quite like that, so how was he supposed to not be suspicious?

Although, you had to hold onto hope that he truly didn’t know any better. It seemed as though he was blissfully ignorant to the truth behind your sickness, and you’d like to keep it that way. For as long as you possibly could, anyway.

You hadn’t even noticed that you were pacing across the floor until you landed your weight onto a particularly squeaky board that sounded ridiculous in the otherwise quiet room. Freezing on the spot, you held your breath for some reason you truly couldn’t explain. Of course, there was no logical reason to do so, and the action only resulted in your lungs contracting violently. Your upper body shuddered as you opened your mouth instantly. Holding your breath for just a few seconds should have been a simple task, but to your weakened heart and lungs it felt like running a whole marathon uphill.

Buckling over, you heaved in mouthfuls of oxygen until your heart rate dropped back down to a normal rate. Add shortness of breath to your growing list of signs that should send you running for the nearest clinic. If you weren’t so foolishly attached to the man who was probably worrying about you downstairs, you would have already been booking yourself an appointment.

It just seemed totally inconceivable, even in your predicament, to leave Soobin behind within his ancestral house that surely felt horridly empty being lived in alone. You would sooner walk over lava barefoot than put him through that. It was stupid. So incredibly stupid, but you were literally willing to put your life on the line just to look after Soobin. He had really weaseled himself deep into your psyche. But you knew you were to blame for holding the door wide open. He had done so much for you, surely you could do him to kindness of sticking around as long as you possibly could.

So you trudged down the steps like you did every day, expecting to come face to face with an overly worried and doting young man standing in the kitchen or living room awaiting your arrival. But the lower level of the house was oddly silent when you descended the steps. The low hum of the washer and dryer running were the only indications that someone beside yourself was even there. Curiosity spiking, you made your way to the vacant living room to peer out of the windows. It was a bit hard to see him from this angle, but you spotted Soobin lounging on the back deck, skin browning in the sun and eyes closed in content. His arms were tucked behind his head, effectively lengthening his torso and giving you a full view of the sliver of skin that was peeking out between the top of his waistband and the bottom of the white cotton t-shirt You noticed that he was once again wearing the outfit he was donning when you first arrived at the front gate weeks ago. Although the outfit was simple and generally unremarkable, you would never forget the way your heart lurched at the sight of his lithe body the first time. The warm pull of nostalgia nagged at the back of your mind, so you selfishly let yourself sink into its embrace and recall the trepidation you had once approached the grounds with.

Soobin had charmed you so easily with his windswept hair and boyish charm that it was a shock you didn’t begin to grow flowers for him the first time you met. To be fair, the version of you who had rolled into town almost two months prior was much more cautious than the version you were now familiar with. Part of you missed that version of you; who was simply drifting through life, unattached to anyone and looking for a new spot to plant her roots. But you knew you weren’t built to live like that, as your attachment to Soobin had proven wholeheartedly.

Suddenly, you felt a lurching in your chest that didn’t necessarily hurt you; but urged you to go outside and talk to Soobin. A subconscious pull that reminded you that your body craved his attention just as much as your mind did. The weather was beautiful today, a pleasant temperature that made your skin feel like it was glowing as soon as you were under the sun. As soon as you stepped onto the porch, Soobin whipped his head around in your direction. Cutely, he scrambled to sit up, hair frizzy from the static of the Adirondack chair he had been lounging on.

“Are you feeling better?” A warm hand encased the left side of your face, Soobin’s sloped nose just inches away from yours as his speckled eyes studied every single pore and line on your face.

“Uh- I’m-” his proximity was making your jittery, heart rate spiking as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I feel better. The migraine is gone.” You ignored the way the same dull ache from earlier was beginning to seep into the edges of your brain.

“Oh, good!” A rush of his breath blew over your sensitive skin, sending your eyelids into a flutter. When he removed his hand, you felt oddly cold and empty despite the heat of the atmosphere. “Look, I don’t want you to do any work around the house until you’re feeling better. And I can call my doctor to get you in for a-”

“No!” The word jumped off of your tongue before you could reign it in; rudely cutting Soobin off as his eyes widened in shock. He shifted his weight as his eyebrows knit together in worry. You licked your lips- suddenly dry- and tried to collect the thoughts that were running laps in your mind. How could you possibly explain that going to the doctor would be a grave mistake and mark the end of your companionship.

“You don’t want to go to the doctor? I promise he’s really nice, Y/N, and he can get you medicine for your migraines.” His perfect lips were pulled into a worried pout, a thin sheen of sweat glazing his skin only exemplifying his perfect complexion.

“No, it’s just that...when I had them before they ran a bunch of tests,” you were hedging the truth and you knew it, but hopefully Soobin couldn’t tell the difference, “and there was nothing they could give me to help them. So a doctor would just be, ya know, a waste of time.” The skin on the back of your neck was heated in worry as you shot Soobin what you hoped was a convincing grin.

“Okay.” He was still frowning but he seemed to believe you. “Just please let me know if you want to go. I don’t want you to be miserable. And you’re still not doing any yard work,” he grasped your bicep and led you over to the chair he had just been lying in. His grip was strong as he gave you no choice but to sit down and relax. The plastic was heated from the sunshine and the heat of his body as you settled in and looked up at him, blinking slowly.

“I’m not gonna break, Soobin. I can handle watering the plants and doing some cleaning inside. You are not going to wait on me hand and foot.” You put some fire in your tone, hoping to edge away the anxiety you were feeling creep up the back of your throat. Having the exact person who sent your body on a fight against itself watching over you like a mother cat watches its kittens would surely put you six feet under.

Soobin’s eyes steeled as he crossed his arms over his broad, defined chest. “No, Y/N. I am going to wait on you, because you’ve spent so much time waiting on me, and you deserve to have someone take care of you. Please let me take care of you, bub.” You were speechless at the strength of his voice coupled with the nickname he had only used in a teasing manner prior to this moment. The longer you stared at the toned muscle of his arms crossed over the widest part of his torso, the more your throat began to tickle with the insistence of soft, red petals that were looking for an escape. Panicked, you looked away quickly, coughing as softly as you can to hopefully pass the action off as simply swallowing down the wrong pipe. Just when you think the moment has passed, an unwavering push at the back of your throat had you involuntarily gagging. Soobin sprung into action, patting a large hand between your shoulder blades as if he were burping an infant. He was calling your name, pulling some strands of your hair away from your face in a bid to get your attention; but you ignored him. Your stomach rolled, the pressure in your lungs and heart only increasing at his touch that you tried to shrug off.

Eventually the muscles of your esophagus stopped constricting and fresh oxygen could flow back into your crowded lungs. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks and you wiped at them in embarrassment, hiding your face from Soobin’s intensified gaze. You could only imagine what he was thinking right now; as you’d just went from insisting you had no need for a doctor to dry heaving over the side of his deck furniture. The thought had you shrinking into yourself even more. He was going to catch on eventually, wasn’t he? Fuck. You couldn’t avoid this much longer. The evidence of your disease was only mounting and Soobin was more observant than ever before.

“Y/N.” The call of your name brought you, slowly, out of your own mind. “Look at me.” The words could not have been any clearer, yet you shook your head like a petulant child. He sighed. “Please, I’m worried about you. Please let me take care of you. I can’t,” he stopped and you could hear him swallow clearly. Was that a sniffle? Your heart clenched in response. “I can’t sit here and watch you hurt.”

Still ashamed, you raised your head from your hands and stared out over the yard instead of facing him. You didn’t think your stuttering heart would survive seeing his expression in this supercharged moment. You’d sooner drop dead than see Soobin crying over you.

“Okay,” you acquiesced, mind already running in the direction of a backup plan, “I’m sorry, Soobin. You’re right. I do need you to look after me. Just please.” you swallowed, tasting the oddly earthy tang of flower petals on your tongue. “No doctors. You have to promise me.” Finally turning your body to face his, your earlier suspicions were confirmed.

Your heart constricted painfully at the sight of him, eyes rimmed red and watery with unshed tears and a line of worry creasing the soft skin of his forehead harshly. “Fine.” He huffed, clearly displeased with your stipulation but willing to make the sacrifice.

“Thank you,” the words were whispered, caught in a sudden gust of wind, but he heard them nonetheless and sent you a small nod.

“Of course.”

----

Soft sunlight filtered through the flowy white curtains hanging over the windows of the library. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t spent much time in this little haven since you moved in. Soobin’s cousin had filled it with plush armchairs laden with soft fleece blankets and the most comfortable throw pillows you’d ever felt. The books were certainly outdated, but you found some classics that satisfied the itch for escape you had begun to cultivate. Currently, you were flipping through a vintage illustrated coffee table book- the front page tells you it was made in 1962- that gave diagrams and names of all types of flowers. You shouldn’t have been surprised to find this type of literature here, as Soobin himself had admitted to learning the meanings of flowers in his free time.

The pages were delicate, so you flipped them carefully, fingers tracing over the edges that felt like they might melt between the oil of your skin. As you turned onto a new page a brightly colored sticky note, not unlike the ones you used to mark up textbooks, drew your attention toward the flower it was attached to. You recognized the flower as jasmine immediately, familiar with the patch of it that weaved among its neighbors in the garden. Brushing the sticky note aside, you read the delicate cursive underneath it: eternal and unconditional love. Cute. The image of a younger Soobin thumbing through the book, tongue pushed out in concentration as he researched warmed your heart.

A tremor of weakness passed through your arm, making your hand shake. A feeling of dread- which you desperately tried to push down- reminded you of just how much worse your condition had become. You had noticed it lately, the way you felt much more faint than normal, how much more often you had to take a moment to catch your breath, the way your whole body would shake when you cough up a mix of blood and petals into the sink.

But for now, you chose to lose yourself in this book and the newfound hunt for Soobin’s sticky notes of interest. You had to skip a few pages before you found the next ones; two bundled together in the upper left corner of the page marked off forget-me-nots and begonias. Gently lifting the sticky notes revealed the meanings behind these flowers, also featured in the backyard, to be true love and deep compassion and communication or connection, respectively. Curiosity mounting, you continued to flip through the weighty book. At first, you began to think that maybe the three notes you’d already found were all that lived within the forgotten book. As you neared the end, your eyes caught on two more, this time on opposite ends of the page. One partially covered an illustration of a snapdragon, the other highlighting the small flowers of a buttercup. Your nails caught on the edge of the blue paper as you lifted it. Buttercups: neatness and innocence. The definition made sense, calling back to memory the way your former best friend had coughed up a handful of the pale yellow flowers when you were just children. She was easily the most pure and innocent person you’d ever met, and given the matching nature of the boy who’d also been secretly pining over her; you couldn’t think of a more perfect example of the type of flower representing the relationship.

You wondered if Soobin had chosen and planted these flowers with the image of the relationships they’re indicative of in mind. The snapdragon’s description was totally covered by the sticky note; so you nearly had to pry the whole thing off before you could see the cursive. Deception. The word stared back at you. It seemed very out of place among the other markings that Soobin had made. You knew for a fact that a tall, thick patch of snapdragons were growing proudly in the garden, among all the other flowers with soft, beautiful meanings. Interesting. You would consider the fact that Soobin was only drawn to their aesthetics, but the way the drawing was marked with the same enthusiasm as the others was certainly curious.

You decided that you were thinking way too far into this. For all you knew, the snapdragons were simply planted by someone in his family and he had gone looking for their meaning. Nearing the end of the book, you were simply skimming over the book. Your eyes were starting to get tired, fatigue dancing under your skin as you considered taking a nap right there. On the final, yellowed page of the flower identification book, you spotted something alarmingly familiar. A red flower whose petals fade into a pure white near the stem. The exact same petals that had been crawling up your throat and ruining the little bit of safety you’d found within Soobin’s home.

Suddenly on high alert, you sat up straight, eyes watering as you finally focused enough to comprehend the definition. The red windflower. Death and forsaken love. Your throat went completely dry, heart dropping down to your stomach. The petals pushed against the soft flesh of the inside of your throat, scratching at the back of your tongue as a harsh reinforcement of what you were reading. Death? Surely you had joked with yourself that you felt as if you were dying, but was that not just because you hadn’t seen a doctor?

A new gagging cough slipped past your lips, consuming your senses totally as you focused on not spewing a mix of blood, spit and flower petals onto the surely expensive leather chair. Finally, you collapsed back in the chair, chest heaving, book laid open on your lap. Fresh tears brimmed your eyes. You needed to leave. As much as you desired to stay around Soobin and bask in his company, you were becoming increasingly worried for your life. You had to find a way to get him out of the house long enough for you to pack up the essentials and flee the house. It would hurt. It would hurt so bad, but nothing could be worse than the message of doom that your body was giving you. Loving Soobin would literally put you in an early grave.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Soobin’s voice came cautiously from somewhere behind you and you jumped, clasping the book shut quickly.

“I’m-” you tried, voice too wrecked from coughing to continue. You cleared your throat, ignoring the painful pinch that created and tried again. “I’m okay. But I was wondering if you’d do me a favor?” Thinking on your feet had your head spinning, and you hoped he couldn’t sense the waver in your voice as you spoke.

He approached slowly, sitting himself on an armchair opposite of you. The knees of his jeans were stained brown with dirt, a sight not uncommon after his time in the garden. He pushed a hand through his mussed up hair. It was a nervous tick, you knew, and you felt awful for worrying him. Maybe it was better if you left after all.

“Could you go out to Hank’s and get me a Smore’s sundae? I would drive myself but...” a vague gesture over your generally unwell body made the point clear. “I know it’s pretty far out of town but I’ve been craving one since the first time we went.”

“Of course. I’m done outside, I can go. Are you sure you’ll be okay alone? I’ll be out for probably like 40 minutes to get all the way there and back.”

“Yes, Soobin. I can still handle myself alone. I’m not that sick.” The irony of the statement was not lost on you, but it seemed to have placated him enough for him to slip on his shoes and leave the house. As soon as he was gone, you threw yourself off of the chair. Your heart rate had been in a constant state of increase for weeks, but you just had to just push through it for now.

In a flurry of packing that was all too familiar to the way you left your college apartment, you began to gather your things. You felt a twinge of guilt for leaving behind some of your things for Soobin to contend with, but you had to push it aside in favor of working quickly. All of your personal items, chargers, enough clothing for two weeks, toiletries and any money you’d brought along with you were stuffed into your trusty tote bag. You took one last sweeping look around the room, anxiety licking at the back of your neck as you feared you were running out of time. Many of your dressers were still full and you had left the bed a mess but your most important items were tucked underneath your arm securely; and that was enough for you.

As you descended the stairs, you tried to ignore the way you wobbled dangerously down them until you finally got to the bottom level of the house. A bittersweet feeling rose in your chest as you surveyed the kitchen where you’d cooked and baked so many times. The living room beckoned you with similar memories of taking naps in the sunshine and watching your favorite films. A stray tear you didn’t know was welling up made a hot streak down your face before dripping off of your skin. No matter how much it hurt, you had to keep moving. The floor creaked familiarly under your feet as you approached the front door. The handle was cold under your fingers as you twisted, but the satisfying creak and rush of fresh air that you were expecting never came. You tried again, but the door didn’t budge. Locked. Okay, that made sense. Neither of you really used the front door, so of course it was locked up. Leaning down to inspect the doorknob, you realized that the age of the home meant that you would need a skeleton key to slip into the door and crack it open.

Slightly annoyed, you took a deep, steadying breath and headed for the backdoor. You would have to walk further to get to your car; but the back door should be unlocked, considering Soobin had just left out of it. With more fervor, you gripped the door knob and twisted, just to be met with the same resistance the front door gave. A flash of hot panic consumed you as you jiggled the handle again, just in case it would make any difference. Soobin must have locked it out of habit when he left, and you knew for a fact that he had the only key-as far as you knew- with him out at Hank’s. Blindly, you grabbed for your cellphone before realizing how useless that would truly be. No one knew you were here. You didn’t have any other friends in town, and it’s not like you could call the police to come help you without Soobin finding out. Sweaty palms made your phone nearly slip from your grip as your mind worked in overdrive.

“Okay.” you whispered to yourself, “where would he keep spare keys?” Rifling through a mental list of all the nooks and crannies of the home, a sudden realization hit you. That room upstairs where you had hit your head! That would explain why the room seemed oddly clean, and it was feasible to believe that what you mistook for an AC unit was actually a safe of some kind. Back up the steps you went, heart thumping in a rhythm that was surely unhealthy for someone as young as yourself.

When you finally got to the room, you found the mismatched furniture exactly where you left it. Soobin had clearly made no effort to move back the dresser or the table that you’d begun to slide out of the way; only making your mission so much easier.

For the first time today, you had luck when you pulled at the handle of something. Up close, you seemed to be clearly looking at some kind of built in storage compartment, made of a light metal and easily accessed by a small pull lever. Your fingers slipped as you swung the door open, excitement rising at the prospect of being correct about the keeping place of the keys.

As fast as the excitement and relief had risen, they were quelled and buried deep underneath a wash of confusion. Within the confines of the compartment, you were faced with... flowers. In the middle, acting as some sort of centerpiece, was a pressed snapdragon stem. An entire cluster of flowers, attached firmly to a greened stem was propped up on a small stand; shrink wrapped in protective plastic. Something about the sight was oddly familiar. The stem was cut so perfectly across, completely unlike the way a garden sheer or someone breaking off the plant would present. A memory surfaced to the top of your mind, recalling the first time you’d had your flowers removed. It was cut in the exact same manner; with the precision only a surgical tool could make. Although you’d tried to bury the whole process in a dusty corner of your mind, you did remember your doctor offering the option to take the removed flower home. It had appalled and confused you, but it was clear that that was the source of this exact flower.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, catching sight of an almost unrecognizable sharpie scribbled on the corner. CS. Initials? Oh god. CS. Choi Soobin. Your hand recoiled as if you’d been burned, the feeling of bile raising toward your tongue. He had told you that he never grew flowers, so what the hell was this? Why would he keep this a secret? Hurt and panic joined hands and wreaked havoc on your nervous system. You could barely think straight. Was this his...trophy case?

When you shifted on your feet, you spotted a small envelope resting behind the stand. A sick feeling of curiosity had you reaching for it. At this point, you had no idea what to expect as your fingers stick to the material thanks to the sweat permeating your body. It takes a few tries, but once you finally get the envelope slipped open, you can’t tell what you’re looking at. The lighting was too awkward, so you dumped the contents out onto the surface of the compartment. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to see; but it certainly wasn’t this. Dozens of flower petals, dried and shrink wrapped in the same fashion as the haunting centerpiece spilled out in front of you. The smooth metal surface sent them all skidding, so it took you a second to get the whole picture. The first one to catch your eye was a white, pointed petal that you could easily identify as jasmine with the same handwritten pair of letters on one corner. YJ. Another protected petal, this one the tell tale purple-blue of a forget me not bore the letters SA. In fact, you could match every single one of these petals to a flower you had been fawning over in the garden since your arrival.

One that had scattered toward the back of the case seemed to compel you even though you couldn’t quite see it. You reached for it blindly, bringing a few, clearly much older flowers forward with it. Sifting through them only struck more and more fear into you. Every instinct you had was telling you to run, scream, pound on a window until you could bust out. Soobin was clearly not all he had claimed to be. But a dark, twisted side of yourself you didn’t know existed wanted to sift through all of the petals and match them up with the garden you’d cared for. Resting at the bottom of the pile in your hand, you finally came across the petal you’d initially reached for.

It was about the size of a penny; red, fading into a simple white at the bottom. This was it. This was the exact petal that you’d spit out onto your bedside table after your first awful migraine. Now that you thought about it, you never did throw it out. You were too disgusted to even face the flora that haunted you.

Your heart stopped. The sharpie on this flower was smudged, as if he had been in too much of a hurry to let it dry. Your initials were there, clear as day. He had collected your flower for his sick collection. He had collected...you.

The little happy world you had built yourself came crashing down like a ton of bricks. If he had done this to you, then surely all of these other petals came from others who had come to work and live with him. You recalled an early discussion about family tradition as you thumbed over a group of much more withered looking flowers.

This was the family tradition.

Alarms blared in your mind. Get out, your mind urged faster than your feet could move. Tripping over yourself, you hoped that Soobin wasn’t home yet, as you had no idea how to get out of the home. Your feet pounded noisily on the hardwood but that was the very least of your worries. Skidding into the kitchen, your blood ran cold.

Soobin.

“Hey,” his voice was smooth, unwavering as he leaned against the sink nursing a bottle of water. On the island there was a brown paper bag with Hank’s logo printed on the front. “There’s your ice cream.”

You didn’t know what to do. Clearly, you had been caught red handed with a tote bag in hand and anxious sweat rolling down your face.

“Oh, uh. Thanks.” The room sat creepily still as Soobin’s eyes, devoid of any clear emotion, roved over you. He quirked an eyebrow as he pushed himself off of the counter. You couldn’t move, even as he stalked closer.

“What happened to you resting? You’re sick.” He had asked a question but it seemed clear we really wasn’t looking for an answer.

“I just-” your words turned into a gasp as Soobin gripped your shoulder so hard that it hurt. Gone were the usually careful caresses of his fingers as he pushed you backwards. With your body already weak it only took one wrong step for you to be sent flying toward the floor. On instinct, you tried to grab onto Soobin’s solid body for support, but he stepped back and watched you fall, bouncing the back of your head off of the floor hard enough to go limp. Consciousness came and went as you struggled to do anything in the name of self defense. Your lungs and heart were too compromised to acquire and pump the nutrients your body needed. Soobin crouched over you, studying you with a passive look on his face.

“Ya know,” he sighed, pulling the tote bag away from your body. “I really did like you. I hoped to have spent some more time with you, but you’re just,” he clicked his tongue, grabbing you firmly by the ankles and giving an experimental tug. You slid along the floor easily. “So. Nosy. Too nosy for your own good.”

“Soobin, you’re not- this isn’t-” a dark chuckle passed between his lips. The ones you once dreamed of.

“You don’t know me. This is exactly who I am, Y/N. This is who my whole family is.” He dropped your ankles harshly, secure in the fact that you were too weak to get up. A shroud of darkness filled your head as you grayed out from the panic. When you awoke again, it was to the sound of birds chirping. It hurt to open your eyes but you did it anyway, spotting Soobin just above you, wielding a shovel.

He smiled down at you, deceivingly handsome, as he stuck the shovel into the pliant ground just to your side. Looking to your left, you spotted a freshly dug shallow grave and your blood ran cold at the recognition that he must have been digging this earlier in the day when you were reading.

“Please, don’t do this.” you begged with the last of your energy. “Soobin, please. I- I love you.” Desperation had you spitting out your deepest secrets in a bid to catch his attention and change his behavior.

“Awe,” he crooned, grabbing onto your wrists with a grip that would certainly bruise your delicate skin. “I know.” One sharp movement had you landing on your back in the dirt, several feet below ground level. The impact pushed all the air out of your compromised lungs and you didn’t even have the semblance to lift your head and scream to anyone listening. Soobin stood above you, blocking the sun from your view as he dropped something onto you. It took you a few moments, but you soon realized he had dropped a handful of red windflower petals and seeds onto your front. You shuddered. This is surely what had happened to all the other people who carried the flowers you’d found. This was how Soobin kept his beautiful garden. Sacrifice.

Wordlessly, he piled shovel fulls of dirt on top of your body. With your eyes slipping shut, all you could do was feel the weight of being buried alive consume you.

----

Soobin hated the winter. It was too long, too cold, too boring. He usually spent the whole time holed up in his home, dreaming of the day the weather warms.

Finally, finally, after months of waiting the time had come. An early summer breeze pushed his hair out of his face. This season he had decided to go for a purple color that seemed to suit his complexion well. Sitting on his favorite deck chair, he gazed out at the beginnings of his blooming garden. All of the usuals had cropped up, but it was with great pride and delight that Soobin regarded the patch of red windflowers that had begun to grow. For their first season, they were going strong, covering almost the entire plot of land he had allowed them. For a while, he had been worried that the new plants wouldn’t perform well, since he’d never dealt with them before. But he was quite proud.

As he sipped from a frosty glass of lemonade, he heard the distant crunch of his driveway gravel. It had been almost a year since the last time he heard it, but his heart jumped in excitement. Stretching his limbs, he began a lazy meander toward the front gate; already making out the slight static of the speaker as someone spoke into it, introducing themselves and asking if they were in the right place. Clearing his throat, he rounds to corner to the great iron gate surrounded by his guarding trees and glances back at his garden. Then he advanced, opening the gate as he came and beckoning his new guest inside the boundaries of his property.

“Hi! I’m Soobin. This house belonged to my great-great-uncle and his wife. Well, wives.”

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