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yongbokology · 2 years

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part 1

parings; child actor!jungkook x poc co-star!reader warnings; mature language, alcohol & drug abuse, descrimination against reader, touches on political topics, jungkook is a bit of an asshole, he’s an addict as well, angst if you squint, fluff, small crack, smut (ish)

“Pretty girls involved with me Makin' pretty love to me, pretty, pity, pity All the pretty girls involved with me Makin' pretty love to me, pretty, pity, pity

I can't feel, can't feel a thing can't feel a thing, can't feel, feel, feel, feel her I can't feel, feel her Novacane, Novacane, Novacane”

&&&

‘fuck, just like that’

his breathing grew heavier as the brunette beneath him continued to suck him off. he slowly opened his eyes fixating them on his ceiling. his mind felt cloudy and his fingers trapped between strands of dark locs felt fuzzy. if jungkook was being honest he couldn’t feel a fucking thing. although he was pretty sure if he could feel anything he wouldn’t be enjoying the blow job he was currently receiving. jungkook could be pretty fucking blunt but he still had a heart. his conscious was screaming at him to pry her lips from his cock but he was too numb to care or actually do it. he figure he’d let it go on for a few more minutes and if he couldn’t cum he’d kick her out.

the universe must have been in his favor because the sudden rapid knocking at his door pulled him out of his cloudy thoughts. he took this as his opportunity and collided the palm of his hand against the brunette’s forehead, pushing her head back, making her fall flat on her ass.

“ow-”

“get decent then get out.” he gave her one last look before stuffing his cock back in his sweats.

the knocking continued as he walked over to the door. he glanced at the digital clock on the kitchen island, rolling his eyes as it read ‘3:45pm’. with a small sigh he unlocked the door, opening it and almost slamming it shut once he saw who was on the other side.

however, his plans were foiled as the man placed his foot in between the door and forced his way inside. namjoon was way bigger than jungkook causing him to push open the door with ease.

“what the fuck do you want joon?”

the older male glances behind jungkook, probably to get a glimpse of the woman getting herself together.

he waited until the woman grabbed her shoes, holding it close to her chest and she scampered out of the suite, closing the door behind her.

“you need to get dressed like right fucking now, if you’re not ready in the next five minutes you’re gonna be terminated from the agency.”

jungkook scoffs as he leans on the back of his couch, folding his arms “terminate me then.”

“i’m sorry what?”

“i said terminate me namjoon, i’m done. i don’t know why you keep chasing me around trying to save my career, aren’t you tired? i’m sure they’ll assign you to someone else or some shit.”

namjoon eyed the younger male as he walked over to his bed, fishing something out of his pocket. he notices five white tablets and before he can protest, jungkook already has his head thrown back and his hand over his mouth as he downs them with ease. he reaches over for the sprite can on his dresser and takes a swig before placing it back down.

“we’ve talked about this kook.”

jungkook lets out a small huff as he leans back on his palms giving namjoon a once over before fixing his eyes on his lap.

“i assume i have four minutes now, meaning you have three to convince me to walk outside that door.”

the atmosphere of suite feels suffocating. namjoon feels the life being sucked out of him the longer he stands in his spot. this scenario is all too familiar. more time than he can his fingers and toes combined he’s had to talk jungkook into things he didn’t want to do. things to help him publicly and personally. he’s had success and failures each time. it’s a miracle he’s still jungkook’s manager. as draining as managing jungkook is, namjoon has been by this kid’s side since he was thirteen. he basically took part in raising him. looking at him now.. namjoon feels like he’s failed as a mentor. he’s failed jungkook. as much as namjoon loved jungkook as his own son he knew what he had to do. he knew that he couldn’t continue this game with jungkook forever. countless times he’s picked up jungkook out of random bars and bathrooms, letting him crash in his guest room and nursing him back to health. he’s even went far as to go through jungkook’s phone and find out who deals him drugs, he’s also found his stashes and threw them out. all his efforts were for nothing though because jungkook always went back to his ways. he’s never been to rehab and rose hell whenever it was even mentioned. namjoon felt defeated. he didn’t know what to do with him anymore. he was finally throwing in the towel if jungkook wasn’t going to follow him out this door. as namjoon stood there in thought, silence hung over the two men.

“i’m not gonna do that. i’m not forcing your hand anymore kook.”

“huh?”

“jungkook, i’m tired. if you want to get high off of all the shit you do then fine but i’m not gonna standby and watch you kill yourself. whether you follow me of this room is completely up to you but you will not be hearing from me again. that’s a promise.” the door shuts behind him and jungkook is left in silence again.

he didn’t come out.

the pang in namjoon’s chest last until he entered his car and exited the hotel’s parking lot. he didn’t look back for a second as he sped off onto the highway taking him straight to his house. he entered his house, kicking his shoes to be greeted by his beautiful wife with their three year old baby girl in her arms. he felt at peace, the confrontation with jungkook at the back of his mind. he helped his wife prepare dinner and lulled his sweet baby girl to sleep before returning to the kitchen. him and his wife ate in comfortable silence. it was evident that something was wrong with namjoon, being married to the man for five years, his wife knew him like the back of her hand. she could tell when something wasn’t right. however, she didn’t press, whatever it was, joon would tell her sooner or later. he always did. she wanted to let him enjoy the dinner they made and alleviate whatever was on his mind. after dinner and washing the dishes, namjoon went straight for the shower, though it wasn’t really a shower. he just leaned his body up against the shower wall, letting the hot water absorb his skin as he stared at the shower head. he eventually came out, the steam radiating off of him as he dried himself off and slipped on his night clothes. he went back out into the hallways to turn off the lights then walked into his daughter’s room to make sure she was sound asleep- a small smile etching onto his lips as he watched her chest rise and fall slowly. he walked back into him and his wife’s shared room, his wife already dozing off as he joined her in bed. wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him, he sighed contently as he caught a whiff of her cherry scent, closing his eyes and drifting off into a much needed sleep.

that didn’t last long however. he awoke to his wife tapping his chest repeatedly, ever the alert man he is, he sits up instantly already making his hand stretch over to the gun resting underneath the mattress, pulling it out with ease. “what’s going on?!” he whisper yells.

his wife looks at him with wide eyes as she shows him the ring app on her phone. the camera on his porch showing someone with a bag slung over their shoulder dressed in all black. he can’t put a face to the person as the rain droplets on the lens make it hard.

“i-i think someone’s trying to break in? they were looking in our downstairs windows and rung the bell a few times.” she speaks with such quickness it takes a second for namjoon to register her full sentence.

“go into daisy’s room and don’t come out until you hear my voice okay? lock the door. if you hear anyone else’s voice call the police, go now.” he steals a quick kiss from her before rising to his feet and ushering her into daisy’s room.

the sound of thunder booms so sudden that it nearly scares namjoon out his skin. he calms himself down and takes a breath before walking down the stairs, gun in hand, turning the safety off and keeping his finger on the trigger guard. once he reaches the door he peers into the peep hole, the person is still there but their back is turned.

“what the fuck do you want?!” he yells.

as the person turns around namjoon immediately lowers his gun, putting the safety back on and opening the door. in front of him stands a drenched jungkook with a duffle bag over his shoulder, his head hands low as he tries to avoid eye contact with the older male.

“can i come in?”

namjoon steps aside and lets him in, closing the door behind him. jungkook eyes the gun in his hand as he cleans the bottom of his shoes on the welcome mat.

“what do you want jungkook?”

ouch. he’s heard that about a gazillion times but namjoon’s tone sounds more defeated than usual. jungkook feels awful

knowing he’s the cause.

“i…” he feels his eyes become glossy as he finally looks namjoon in his eyes.

this immediately makes namjoon’s demeanor soften, placing the gun in the band of his pants. “it’s okay, kook.” he pulls him into a tight embrace, not caring if he was currently floating out his socks from all the rain water. whatever it was, this was serious. jungkook wasn’t a cryer. no matter how hard things got, he never shed a single tear. jungkook immediately hugged him back, tears finally falling in the process.

after a while the both of them pull away from one another. jungkook finally regaining his composure, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.

“i want to get help. i want to go to rehab.”

&&&

“fuck i can’t believe this is actually happen” you say to yourself as you look in the mirror, sat down in your styling chair in your trailer. it all felt surreal. you were finally starring in your first lead movie. this was going to be your debut. sure you’ve starred in your fair share of commercials, even modeled for some companies but this was your first project with your face on the front. you were the star of this movie. when you got the call you sat in silence for a good thirty minutes before screaming and running around your apartment calling your closest friends and telling them the good news. you were finally getting your big break. this was especially a big fucking deal since you weren’t of the typical female lead standard. you were a person of color, and all though we live in a world where its more common nowadays it’s still such an accomplishment considering when you went to the audition all you saw were white, young women, all of them of the same build and you were one out of the three poc women there.

right now you were dressed to shoot your first scene of the movie. your nerves were through the roof maybe because they kept the actor of the male lead a secret. what if it was tom holland??? or.. OR [insert favorite male actor]. the possibilities were endless. you heard rumors that it was some big name child star that was really famous some years back, this was going to be the first project he did in years.

a sudden knock pulls you out of your thoughts. they’d told you that they’d be ready for you when they knocked on your door. you did a once over of your makeup, hair and clothes, making sure that everything was good before stepping out of your trailer. you took a deep breath and started heading towards the white tent where’d you’d meet your costar. as you began walking over you pulled out your phone to text your friends in the group chat you shared.

you: guys it’s time, i’m gonna meet my male lead and we’re gonna do screen tests, kinda scared ngl.

read 8:38am.

chaeyoung: you’re gonna do great y/n <33

read 8:38am.

lee know: hwaiting 👍🏻

read 8:38am.

lalisa: you got this babe 🖤

read 8:38am.

wooyoungie: time to wake up the rest of the gc

read 8:38am.

you smile to yourself as you stop in front of the entrance of the tent, you put your phone away and take a deep breath before entering the tent. your eyes grow wide as you see about six people. one of the people being no other than jeon fucking jungkook. you had a feeling it was gonna be him. he fit the bill of the rumors you heard plus you had a tiny crush on him as a kid so you knew a bit about him. maybe too much. you knew he was a recovering addict and you also knew that he’s had way too many run ins with the law and controversies for the last several years. you’ve heard from people who have met or encountered say that he’s kind of an asshole and intimidating as hell. although he was in the spotlight for the bad more than good he was rich as fuck, his parents died when he was just six and now he owns half the company since he was too young and wanted to persue acting anyways. to simply put it he had the power to do almost anything he fucking wanted so to see this man standing in the tent as your potential costar, you felt your stomach flip and roll over three times. you wanted to run right then and there.

“welcome, good morning. glad you’re finally here,” the director smiles, she places her hand on the small of your back as she ushers you further into the tent. “y/n, this is the male lead amd your costar, jungkook!”

you swallow thickly as you take a closer look at him. he looks

much cleaner than how you usually see him in the media. you notice the new piercings he’s currently sporting and the fresh ink work going up into his hoodie sleeve. he looks healthier, bulkier than the last pictures before rehab. his face is a mix between hard and expressionless. you can’t read him which makes your stomach roll over and flip three more times. what if he thinks you're ugly? you know how the korean beauty standards are you are for certain you are well below the roster of what he normally deals with. you want to die right then and there.

“nice to meet you,” your voice is almost small as you put your hand out for him to shake.

he accepts your hand and shakes it, “nice to meet you too.” his voice is low. he looks bored. are you making him bored? does he even want to do this? are they forcing him? what’s the deal here? you want to know.

“alright, introductions is over. we have three months to shoot this movie, today we’re gonna do screen tests and then i’ll give you more details after. sounds good?”

the both of you nod as the director leads the way to the set of the first scene she wants to execute.

“so what do you think?” namjoon asks as he leans against the wall of jungkook’s trailer.

well jungkook thinks you have killer tits and a nice ass.

“of her?”

“no, the pizza crust crumbs on your lips- yes, her, jungkook.”

he rolls his eyes as he slouches into his chair “i mean she’s nice, she’s pretty and what not.”

namjoon raises a brow “and what not?”

jungkook shrugs. he doesn’t know how to feel about you yet, the two of you didn’t really talk outside of reciting your lines.

“jungkook i need you to get your head in the games. you’ve come so far, you’re three months clean, you’ve been staying out of trouble. i’m really proud of you.”

jungkook looks at namjoon through the mirror and offers a slight smile “i know and thanks hyung.”

“you need to let go of that ice cold exterior you have with people you don’t know. they’ll judge you off your expressions alone and think you’re an arrogant asshole. i’m trying not to be too hard on you because i know it’s a struggle but try a little harder, can you do that kook?” namjoon places a firm hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as jungkook nods.

“alright well the director told me that it’s required for you and y/n to hang out outside of filming to create chemistry between you two so i’m giving you y/n’s number and you two are gonna figure out something to do over the weekend.”

jungkook furrows his brows “huh?”

namjoon puts his hands up in the air “figure out or i’ll figure something out for the both of you and you don’t want that.”

“i def don’t.”

“good.”

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jkstompers · 3 years

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a royal engagement | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

genre: arranged marriage but they wanna do it right!, best friends to lovers, royalty!au, FLUFF, crown princess!oc, prince!jk, surprises!, jk believes in soulmates confirmed, oc is so in love, perhaps jk flexes how rich he is in this ~(˘▾˘~)

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual tension, more talk of exes (both jk and oc’s), they both talk about losing their virginity, mild jealousy, mentions of menstrual cycles, a little bit of lip locking action

word count: 11.1k

author’s note: ♡ happy jungkook day! ♡ this chapter spans over a week and a half-ish! also i made a little oopsies in the last chapter when i said that oc had only been back in raemor for a week… it’s actually been a month since she’s left the city. i’m sorry about that! i changed it on an arrangement already, but i just figured it out when i was editing this chapter. other than that, i’m so excited for this series and i hope u all enjoy!! pls lmk what u think! ღ'ᴗ'ღ

banner pic creds here! <3

jungkook had the utmost faith in you.

there was something in him that always knew that the love the two of you had ran way deeper than a friendship— probably more than a relationship too. it was something like a soul tie. something the stars created before the earth was ever created. two beings that were always meant to be together, in every universe, in every time before and after this. jungkook held his hope in that. his trust that the love the two of you forged was strong enough to pull you out of your room and into his arms before the plane took off.

the war between your head and your heart ended in a stalemate. you were fighting against something that you knew in your heart you wanted. your brain couldn’t make any more excuses to go against it when jungkook laid his heart out on the floor for you. you’d already made your decision before you went to sleep— before you even left jungkook’s grasp. but you were one for the dramatics.

the sound of the plane landing woke you, you were afraid you were too late. thinking that you slept in during a moment that could decide the rest of your life, you ran. bare feet smacking against the cold floor of the castle, before you eventually made it out to the garden and then the royal runway.

the sound of your voice that morning set it in stone. that jungkook will never love another the way he does you.

“jungkook!” you called out.

he was just about to board the plane for fenutar, jungkook and his advisors huddled into a circle to talk about customs and special etiquette since it’s been a while since he’s last visited. your shout interrupted the conversation. jungkook turned around immediately at the familiar voice.

the sight of you running through the cold, wet grass in your sleep wear with a winter coat and no shoes on. it makes his heart swell, with both love and worry. more so worry. “princess? what are you doing out here?! it’s freezing and you’re not even wearing the right clothes—”

you cut him off as you crash into his body for a tight hug. it felt right, it always did. “am i too late?” you ask, face snuggled into his warm chest.

he shakes his head, a little laugh accompanying the words. “you’re just in time.”

now, jungkook and you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling together. since seven in the morning, the two of you have just been talking about everything and nothing. mostly just appreciating each others presence. time passed quickly and it was almost time for everyone to start getting ready for breakfast. “so... how should we tell everyone? over breakfast?” you asked, pulling yourself on his chest and resting your cheek against his ribs.

he smiles at you. “sure, i heard they’re serving waffles, donuts— you know, sweet stuff.”

“and wouldn’t our news be so sweet?” you grinned. he laughs and you can feel his chest rise and fall under your head, the sound of his laughter just up against your ear. “should we go now?”

you move to get up, but jungkook stops you, placing a hand on your waist. “let’s stay here for a little bit longer.” he suggests, moving his hand up to run through your hair. “aren’t you tired from your dramatic show of affection this morning?” laughing as his fingers card through the strands of your hair. he combats your glare with a tender massage to your scalp. remembering how you’d always fall asleep whenever he did, and it worked. your eyelids fell and you melt against jungkook as he continues to rub your scalp gently.

love wasn’t scary. times like this, when it’s just you and jungkook; no expectations, no titles, no responsibilities. it’s just love. it wasn’t terrifying, it’s not painful. well, maybe it is sometimes. like how your heart beats out of your chest whenever jungkook looks at you, eyes glistening with admiration. like when you smile at jungkook and he feels like he could burst at any second just from the sight of you. love is hard to explain. love is whatever you make it out to be. and right now, love is in the curve of jungkook’s lips when he smiles at you. love is in the palm of your hand when you reach out to hold him.

the sound of the knocks on the door doesn’t register until the second round of taps. “princess, it is time for breakfast.” you hear from behind the door.

you sit up. “i’ll be right out!” trying to get out of bed but jungkook pulls you back.

“uh-uh,” he tsks. “you’re not dressed.” you furrow your eyebrows before you look down at what you’re wearing. a slip dress, the one you wore to sleep to be specific. “i won’t look, don’t worry.” he laughs, scooting himself up on your bed and covering his face with one of your pillows. he ignores how nice it smells, just like that shampoo he really likes. you bought it back in the city, raemor doesn’t have shampoos that smell like this.

he hears you rustle around in your closet before he hears a faint zip. “wait— jungkook, how does this look?”

the pillow is pulled away from his face and his eyes lay on you. with a colorful sundress draped on your body. it flows and compliments your skin beautifully. you’re beautiful. god, you’re gorgeous. asking jungkook for his opinion wouldn’t help, he’s biased. you’re pretty in his eyes no matter what you wear. “that— yeah, it’s— you look great.” he stumbles over his words.

“cat’s got your tongue?” you tease. in retaliation, jungkook ruffles up your hair a bit, making you groan and spend another five minutes in front of the mirror to fix it. meanwhile, jungkook pulls himself off the bed and straightens his outfit out, opting to leave his jacket off since it was toasty in the castle. he still looks proper and handsome with his white button up and dress pants on. for the last touch, you dig through your jewelry box, knowing that it has to be somewhere in there.

then there it was, at the bottom, tangled with a necklace from your mother, was the friendship bracelet jungkook gave you when you were twelve at the lantern festival. a dainty gold chain with a flower embellishment on it, signifying the promise the two of you made. he watches from afar when you put it on, trying to hide his surprise. “you still have it?”

you nod, “you don’t?”

“i do.” he assures. “i just didn’t think you’d remember it after all this time.”

you scoff playfully, walking towards him. “of course i remember,” linking your arm with his. “i remember everything.”

with that, the two of you step out of your room and down to the dining hall. they were expecting you, but not jungkook. the shock on everyone’s faces was evident. your parents, clementine, your ladies, venus, even blue. it was a good surprise though. both of your parents had to hide their big smiles behind their napkins. the staff kindly added another chair next to you for jungkook to sit down in. no one spoke up about it, if they wanted to ask, they kept their mouths shut. the two of you enjoy a delicious breakfast without any interference from any of the advisors.

but someone had to say it, and you were happy that it was going to be you.

you let out a cough before standing up, holding a glass of water and clinking your knife against it gently to grab everyone's attention. it only took a few seconds for all eyes to land on you. “jungkook and i have come to the conclusion that we will marry.” you announce.

the hall is overjoyed. cheers coming from your parents, smiles being sent your way from blue and your ladies. even the advisors, the most stern and inexpressive people you know (except for venus) crack a little smile at the news. “but—” you begin. silence quickly takes over the room. “only on jungkook and i’s terms.”

there is a bit of confusion amongst the crowd. so clementine is quick to ask, “and what are those terms, your highness?”

one. “jungkook and i will wed next year, when spring begins.”

two. “both of us will plan the wedding, with help of others, but the main parts will be orchestrated by the two of us.”

three. “there will be no talk of an heir until we are ready.”

“deal!” both yours and jungkook’s parents say as soon as you’re done talking.

“then it is settled! prince jungkook and princess ___ will wed next spring!” clementine announces to the hall and cheers erupt through the room once more.

jungkook stands and gives you a tight hug. the moment is all too perfect, the joyous chatter of everyone around you and the warm embrace of the one you love wrapped around you. it’s something you’ve dreamed of. “i won’t let you down, princess.” he promises you, in your ear, only for you to hear.

“i’ll be the best husband this world has ever seen.”

a good husband has to be honest.

jungkook has something to tell you, and he isn’t sure how to word it. he’s scared you’ll be turned off by it. it is a pretty serious topic, so he needs to say it, or else he would feel the guilt start to build in his stomach. then before he knows it, it’ll spill all out. so it’s better to nip the bud. get it done before it becomes a bigger problem.

the two of you were having a sleepover tonight. it’s the first one you guys had since you’ve been back. jungkook brought all the fancy snacks that his mother packed along with some drinks, while you had your contraband: face masks and matching pajamas for the both of you.

he looks funny with his peel off mask drying on his face. you told him not to make any facial expressions or else it wouldn’t work. jungkook’s been pulling a straight face for ten minutes while watching elle woods destroy chutney in the courtroom.

he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to speak up about it, but it’s been eating at him for long enough. “i have to tell you something.” he says out of nowhere. you look at him, trying not to react with your face. his serious tone makes you want to burst out into laughter, it was just so out of place.

but he looks somber, like how he looks when something’s bothering him. you swallow the urge to laugh and just nod. “you can tell me while i peel this mask off your face, deal?” you ask, moving closer and picking at the edge of the mask.

you wait patiently until he spills whatever he needs to say, but he looks a little distracted by the feeling of the face mask being peeled off. he’s already nervous, he tells himself not to get side tracked. so he just spits it out. “i’m not a virgin.”

well. that was one way to start a conversation.

you try not to show your shock, but your eyebrows were already raised and now your facemask is stuck to itself. “oh— oh my god, jungkook,” you laugh, covering your mouth. “do you want a high-five or something?” you can’t hold back the laughter anymore. you raise your hand up and wait for him to reciprocate.

if you were being honest, it did make you a little jealous. you wondered who he lost it to. it was probably jieun. did he love her? enough to want to lose his virtue to her? while the questions run through your mind, he returns the high-five, taking you out of the downward spiral of queries. you weren’t angry at him. there wasn’t an agreement between the two of you that you’d take each other’s virginities. jealousy is unforgiving, because you knew there was no reason to be mad but you still felt the stupid pang in your heart.

you finish taking his mask off, expertly in one piece. jungkook waits for you as you throw it in the trash. he’s still silent, not really knowing what else to say. he was waiting for an argument, in all honesty. but you’re smiling, seemingly unaffected by his confession. “do you wanna help me take off mine?” you ask him, sitting back on the bed, facing him.

he nods, picking at the edge and trying to do exactly what you did. “you’re not upset?” he asks, pulling the mask off of your face. maybe you were, but you weren’t going to tell him. it’s in the past, what matters is now, and he’s here with you now. you couldn’t be too mad.

maybe you should be honest too. you shake your head, “of course not, i’m not a virgin either.” this conversation only proves that there was no need to hide when it came to jungkook. you admired him for speaking up about it first too, even though you aren’t exactly sure why.

jungkook successfully took your mask off in one piece as well, discarding it into the trash can. you tell him that the two of you have to wash your faces to get the tiny pieces off and he follows you into the bathroom. responding with a, “really?” and a raise of his eyebrows.

you turn the water on and splash him a little bit. “are you trying to say i’m too ugly to get laid, jeon?!” you glare.

jungkook backtracks, “no— no! you’re pretty— really pretty— i just— i didn’t know what to say.”

you roll your eyes playfully. rinsing your face with water and making sure your face is entirely clean from the mask before stepping aside and drying your face off, allowing jungkook to have his turn. “who’d you lose it to?” you asked. despite probably already knowing the answer, you just had to make sure.

“uh—” he starts, looking at you through the mirror. his eyes flicker back down to the stream of water when he answers, “jieun.”

of course. you let out a little laugh, stepping closer and nudging his side with your elbow. “congratulations, dude.” at least he told you, at least he was honest. that’s all that matters. jealousy can play it’s part later. after the sleepover.

“what about you?” jungkook asks when he finishes drying his face off. he wants to know, but at the same time he doesn’t. curiosity gets the best of everyone.

“my ex-boyfriend,” you answer nonchalantly. “min yoongi.”

“boyfriend…” he exaggerates. pursing his lips and nodding, the same jealousy you felt earlier coursing through his veins now. “that’s nice— congratulations.” he says, copying what you said. an awkward silence comes between the two of you, in turn, making the two of you laugh out loud. clutching your stomach type of laugh.

“why did you bring it up in the first place?” you question. curious as to why he would need to speak up about his sexual past.

“well, i just wanted to tell you because— i don’t know— when it happened, you were the first one i wanted to tell, and i know it’s too much information but we always talked about stuff like this— like remember when you told me when you got your first period?” he begins to ramble again. a cute habit of his.

you cringe at the mention, but you remember it so well. jungkook was so worried for you, he did all the research he could on menstrual cycles; asked his parents about it, looked online, asked his advisors, and even the doctors that come around the palace for check-ups. with all the advice he got, he showed up in front of your door with a big basket of your favorite sweets, literally every menstrual product ever produced (he wasn’t sure which one you used so he brought all), and other random things like flowers, just to be extra nice. you ended up crying in his arms because of how lovely the gesture was. it showed what kind of person jungkook was. meticulous, caring, and just so sweet.

“you’re right.” the trip down memory lane was delightful, as it always is whenever it comes to him. “but what… about us?” you asked. the question seemed random, but whenever you travel down memory lane with jungkook, you’re always reminded of the feelings that you had and still do have for jungkook. being on this topic makes you wonder: did he bring this up because he wants to have sex and wants to be transparent about how many partners he’s had?

“what do you mean? what about us?” he asks. his eyebrows are furrowed and you can tell he doesn’t understand.

the question shouldn’t have made you hesitate the way you did, but now you’re trying to find the words to backtrack. “i— um,” your smile fades a little. expecting you and jungkook to jump into a relationship was unrealistic, let alone having sex. “nothing.” you shake your head.

jungkook can somehow read your mind. he probably just picked up on context clues. “if you’re thinking about— you know— us, having sex,” he starts. “we don’t have to do anything of that sort, if you don’t want to.”

the thought is something that’s lingered in your mind for a while. same for jungkook. but neither of you will admit that. so the conversation comes to an awkward halt. you blush. “right! yeah— sure, of course.” you nod. every synonym of ‘okay’ leaves your mouth. it makes jungkook laugh, starting a domino effect and making you laugh. soon enough, the conversation was pushed aside and the two of you focused on whatever movie netflix decided to autoplay. it wasn’t long before the buzz of the tv lulled the two of you to sleep.

“jungkook! save me!” you shout from the doors of his palace, spotting him talking to his father in the foyer. you just ran from your castle to his in hopes to outrun your chaser. jungkook’s head turns at the sound of your voice, your figure coming closer and closer.

“what? what is it?” quickly placing the papers in his hand onto the table, he rushes towards you. his face was riddled with worry as he watched you run towards him.

taking you into his arms, you hold him tightly. “venus won’t stop asking me what color the table cloths for the guests should be— please… spare me, my prince.” you fake sob into his chest.

he lets out a relieved laugh, the stress lifting away when he realized that you were just being bombarded with wedding questions again. “shouldn’t they be white?” he asks.

you look up at him in his embrace, chin against his chest, near his throat. “that’s what i said! then she started asking about the details of the cloth— like if we wanted it to be a certain type of thread, if we wanted a different colored detail woven through it— i just— why does it matter?!”

“it matters because it’s going to be the wedding of the century! now tell me, ___, white with gold detail or—” venus finally finds you after asking the guards where you went. she approaches you hurriedly and tries to shove the samples in your face, but you hide in jungkook’s chest, refusing to look at them.

“the gold detail is beautiful, venus, thank you.” jungkook answers for you. you relax against him once again. venus looks satisfied, putting her cloth samples back into her bag and walking away. with venus finally out of your hair, jungkook rubs your back gently. “wanna stay the night?” jungkook asks in your ear.

“depends.” you act like you think about it. pulling away from his embrace, looking at him with a playful glare. “do they still make those strawberry tarts i used to love?”

jungkook smiles. “i’ll ask them to bake you some right now.”

“deal.” you pinch his cheek. “hello, your majesty!” you greet his dad when you turn around. jungkook moves over to the side and tells one of his assistants to ask the kitchen to make your strawberry tarts.

jungkook’s dad gives you a bright smile. “good evening, princess.” even bowing slightly.

“you know you don’t need to do that, papa, it’s just me.” you smiled, giving him a curtsy back for the courtesy

“yes, yes, i know.” he laughs. “i’m just so glad to see you home.” opening his arms for a hug. which you move for immediately, hugging him tightly.

jungkook’s parents were always amazing to you. never making you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. “i missed you as well, you and mama jeon always make me feel at home whenever i’m here.” you express your gratitude to him.

he holds one of your hands in his. “it is your second home, ___.”

“thank you,” you grinned. when you look down, his hands are holding an entire stack of papers. it must be something important, you excuse yourself so that they could finish their business. “i’ll see you later, papa! jungkook! i’ll be in your room!”

jungkook only gives you a thumbs up as he takes his place back next to his dad. the two of them watch as you skip your way up the stairs. your figure receding as you make it to his room when jungkook’s dad speaks up once more. “she is something else, son.” patting his back with a light laugh.

jungkook laughs too. a big smile on his face when he says, “in the best way possible.”

“agreed.” he replicates the same smile that’s on his son’s face. “i’m happy for you.”

when he looks down, his father holds out the papers to verify the marriage arrangement for him to sign. your family had already signed and his parents did too, a while ago. jungkook told them that he’ll only sign after you did. then, just after breakfast when the two of you announced your agreement to the arrangement, you signed happily. it’s a little late because jungkook’s been super busy, but now, with excitement in his heart for your future together, he scribbles his signature on the line. “thanks, dad.” he says as he hands the papers back to him.

they settle the rest of their business and finish signing some more papers. after about ten minutes, jungkook is finished with all the reading and signatures. he makes his way to the kitchen and the chefs hand him a platter of strawberry tarts on the cutest serving plate. white with little red hearts that match the strawberries. a detail that jungkook knows you’ll appreciate.

with two waters in his hand and the tarts in the other, he makes his way up the stairs. hilariously, a problem arises when jungkook needs to open the door to his room. he doesn’t wanna put the stuff down and he figures that you probably can’t hear him if he knocks because the volume of the tv is leaking through the door. in the corner of his eye, jungkook can see a guard crossing the hallway. “psst!” he calls out, hoping to get his attention. the guard passes by without a second thought. a few seconds pass and he can hear the guard take a couple steps back.

soon enough, the guard pops his head into the hallway. “everything alright, your highness?” he asks.

“yes, but— do you mind opening the door for me?” he laughs awkwardly. the guard nods and rushes over, turning the knob and sliding the door open. “thanks, man, have a good night.” he smiles at the guard.

“of course— you too, your highness.” he bows before leaving him be.

when he enters the room, you’re nowhere to be seen. the tv is on and playing some scary movie from what he can tell, the background music is eerie and quite frankly creeping him out. he sets down the waters first onto his bedside table and you come out of his bathroom at the perfect time. “there you are.” he sighs. “how are you just going to play a scary movie and then make me come into an empty room?!” he cries.

you roll your eyes playfully. “my apologies, prince, i didn’t hear you come in!” sporting a hoodie and a pair of boxers stolen from jungkook’s closet, you jump into his bed and eye the beautifully plated tarts in his grasp.

jungkook tries not to get distracted by the way you look right now. so cute in his clothes. he wonders if you caught the way that he looked you up and down. when he realizes that you’ve been staring at the tarts, he refocuses and picks up one of the pastries, holding it close to your mouth “your tarts, your majesty.” when you open to take a bite, he snatches it back quickly and takes a bite himself. his face contorted in pleasure, the treat was perfect amounts sweet and sour.

“jungkook,” you deadpanned. your straight face breaks into laughter not even a second later when he holds the bitten pastry back up to your mouth. “you literally ate half of it!”

“then eat the rest of it!” he shoots back with a laugh. you roll your eyes, taking the rest of the pastry into your mouth. in turn, your lips slightly graze against his fingers. it wasn’t helping that your eyes were looking directly into jungkook’s. it was quite obvious that there was some tension here.

neither of you knew how to address moments like this.

most of the time the two of you just act like it never happened. but they’ve just been happening a little too often these days. like that one time you and jungkook almost kissed after he helped you put on a necklace. that time you and jungkook were hiding from blue; he held his hand over your mouth and the other arm tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t move or make a noise. then now, your sex eyes peering directly into his as your lips graze his fingers. yeah… it was a hard thing to talk about.

jungkook is just as confused as you when it comes to whatever the two of you were. just best friends? engaged but friends? dating? no, that wouldn’t be right. jungkook should ask you to be his girlfriend, er— fiancee, right? just because the two of you are arranged to be married doesn’t mean the two of you go from best friends to a pair of lovers just like that, even with requited feelings.

communication wasn’t a hard thing for the two of you. being best friends for twenty years does that to you. fights, the silent treatment, and even that one period of time where you swore that you’d never talk to jungkook ever again; you guys have been through it all.

it’s just that— neither of you really know how to go about it. this conversation was awkward. maybe it’s just not time to talk about it yet, jungkook thought. you were so busy these days. your advisors would pull you away from him before he even got a word in.

then when you two do get the time to spend with each other, the both of you are usually exhausted from the days you’ve had. even though the wedding was an entire year away, there was way more planning than either of you expected. everyone wants it to be perfect. which is nice in hindsight, but it does get annoying sometimes. like how venus was hounding you earlier for the choice of table cloths.

so the two of you just ignore it for now. maybe when it becomes more of a problem, you’ll talk about it with each other. but for now, it’s just something neither of you are ready to face. you chew and swallow the rest of the tart while jungkook moves into the bathroom to get ready for bed. giving the both of you enough time to calm down and gather your thoughts.

when he comes back out, you’ve eaten at least three more strawberry tarts and started a new movie. another scary one. jungkook doesn’t understand how you can watch these kinds of things before you go to sleep, it’s like you’re immune to nightmares or something.

but you weren’t immune to feeling tired. just before jungkook joins you in bed, you let out a yawn before stretching your limbs a little bit.

“tired?” jungkook asks, pulling the comforter over his legs.

you nod, “a little.”

he smiles. “it’s late,” he nods to the clock on his night stand. one in the morning. “sleep, you did a lot of work today.”

“i know,” you groan. “just one more bite.” trying to fit an entire strawberry tart into your mouth was a bad decision. the pastry crumbled into your throat and had you choking for a minute.

jungkook comes to the rescue with your glass of water and a hand rubbing circles against your back. “alright, alright.” he laughs. “no more tarts— go to sleep, princess.”

when you’ve come down from your coughing fit, you nod before you tell him that you’re going to call seungyeon and jimin. “let me just update them about the wedding planning— they’re gonna laugh about everything, i just know it!”

“it’s supposed to be a secret, princess.” jungkook shakes his head, watching as your hands pull out your phone at lightning speed.

“oh… really?” you pause, “i’ve been telling them everything since we’ve started.” jungkook only laughs. he could never be mad at that, why wouldn’t you wanna share something like this with your friends?

“just make sure your advisors don’t find out, okay?” he holds his pinky up for a classic promise, which you reciprocate.

the next fifteen minutes or so, jungkook acts like he isn’t listening to your conversation as he immerses himself into the storyline of this movie, it was interesting but not as interesting as the way you tell them about the wedding. you sound so excited, telling seungyeon that you’re gonna have to go dress shopping soon and that you want her to be there and everything. it makes jungkook smile. it’s more back and forth between the two of you, seungyeon saying of course she’ll be there and you saying that she better because you’re sending a jet to her. it was quite funny.

then seungyeon’s voice rings over the line, updating you about how jimin’s prepping for his big dance recital on saturday and how much they miss you.

you wish you could go to support him. jimin’s been dancing for as long as he’s lived. he’s so passionate about it and you admire him for it. he talked your ear off about how excited he was about this performance. that the crowd is going to be the biggest he’s ever performed for and how scouts will be in the audience. you wished you could go.

the way your voice shakes isn’t something you can hide very well. over the phone it may pass off as a breath you took too long to breathe in, but in person, jungkook can hear the way that your voice gives way to the tears building in your eyes. “tell him i wish him the best of luck.”

“of course,” she answers. “oh! and i was able to take some pictures when we went into the city, you remember all those hole-in-the-wall spots, right? turns out they’re great for photography!”

not long after, you received an email notification. containing the pictures that seungyeon took and they were beautiful. the city's night lights make everything look so cool, like a movie.

you miss the city. you miss your friends.

“they’re gorgeous,” you tell her. scrolling through picture after picture. seungyeon rambles more about a new restaurant they found that she hopes to bring you (and jungkook) to when they have the chance. jungkook could see the way that your energy changed. you’re sad now. he can feel it. he knows you miss the city. the way you slowly scroll through the pictures, longing to be there instead of having to look at a picture of it through a screen.

the gears in his head turn. a plan has already been set into motion for a date between the two of you. yugyeom, taehyung, and eunwoo have all been trying to pitch in, give him ideas as to where to go, what to do. but jungkook thinks he knows exactly what to do. he wanted to do this right.

so that next morning, jungkook makes an important phone call after retrieving the phone number from namjoon.

“hello, jimin? this is jungkook…”

it’s already been a week and a half since you and jungkook agreed to an arranged marriage. you’ve only been able to see him five out of the twelve days. busy was an understatement. venus said there is too much to do and that even a year isn’t enough time to get everything done. it seems like an exaggeration, in your opinion. sure, a wedding was a lot of work, but did you really need to be there to confirm everything?

maybe venus will let you have a break one of these days. you don’t suspect it to be anytime soon. today, you were told to wake up early (six in the morning type of early) and get dressed. no one told you exactly why, but you listened and once you were ready, made your way to the briefing room.

when you push the big doors open, venus eyes you suspiciously. “princess, what are you doing here? we are not wedding planning today.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “then what are we doing?”

“you are going on a plane, something about a political appearance.” she winks. walking your way and weaving her arm through yours to lead you out.

“already? mother said appearances weren’t for another month!” you groaned.

“sorry, princess.” she laughs. “your bags are being packed as we speak, just go freshen up and we’ll meet jungkook and blue at the royal runway.”

“got it.” you assure her. ah, such a good kid. venus thinks. you don’t even question the random political appearance and just accept it at face value. she knows you’ll be surprised. you don’t even suspect a thing!

after maybe ten minutes, you walk with venus down to the runway and meet up with the boys. jungkook seems a little nervous. he’s doing that thing where he shifts his weight on his feet. “you okay?” you ask him.

“yeah! yeah— why wouldn’t i be?” jungkook answers. a smile that’s way too bright is displayed on his face. you suspect it’s just nerves for the speech he’s probably gonna have to do.

“if you’re nervous, just remember i’ll be right there next to you, yeah?” you assure him. gently taking his hand into yours.

jungkook is suddenly reminded why he shouldn’t be so damn nervous. because it’s you. he gets to be with you. to marry you. of course, he wants it to be perfect, that’s why he keeps going over everything in his head, making sure he’s got everything down. but it’s you. his best friend. when he looks at you, his nerves are at ease. that burning feeling in his chest dies down and his throat no longer feels like closing in on itself.

he lets out a breath. “ready?”

you nod, “where are we going anyway? venus never told me.” stepping up into the aircraft and taking your seat, jungkook and blue follow suit.

“i think we’re going to gotia, right, blue?” jungkook answers, turning his head to namjoon. his face directly telling him to go along with it.

“yes, your highness, gotia.” namjoon smiles brightly.

your eyebrows knit together. they’re acting weird again. “alright…” you say, suspicious of them already. “wake me up when we’re there.”

apparently, you were exhausted. you slept through the entire plane ride and it was a fifteen hour plane ride. namjoon said you did this the last time too. only waking up to eat and talk briefly before falling asleep again. it was a great time for namjoon and jungkook to gather blackmail photos for themselves as your sleeping faces are unbeatable. even when you land, you don’t wake up. jungkook isn’t gonna be the one to wake you up, so he gently lifts you up, bridal style. you don’t even bother opening your eyes, you just cuddle into his further. jungkook was always so warm, and so strong. he carries you into a car and lets you continue sleeping there, with your head on his shoulder.

after about twenty minutes of traffic, you finally decide to open your eyes. suddenly conscious of the way that jungkook’s hand is intertwined with yours. you don’t mind, his hand felt nice in yours. with sleep-riddled eyes, you look outside the window to see city infrastructure; which is not very common in gotia. gotia is a green mountain country, known particularly for their abundance of livestock and green grass.

you give them the benefit of doubt, perhaps you guys were just going somewhere in gotia that you’ve never been before. so you ask, “where exactly in gotia are we going?”

jungkook smiles. a very mischievous smile. “you’ll see when we get there, princess, don’t worry.”

hm, suspicious. this time you sit up, the seat belt digging into your belly when you push forward to lean against the front seat. “blue, where are we going?” you ask your trusty body guard.

“i am just following directions, your highness.” he tells you with a tight grin.

you were already suspicious during the plane ride, and now since neither jungkook or namjoon want to tell you where you’re going; you’re starting to put the pieces together. they’re gonna make you play that game where blue drops you and jungkook off in a random location and the two of you have to figure out where to go from there. and from your own experience: it sucks! so you scoff. “you guys are kidnapping me! hand me my phone, i am calling my father.” holding your hand out with your palm facing up. both of them laugh, jungkook places his hand on yours instead of giving you your phone.

“just wait a little longer, princess.” jungkook tells you as he intertwines your fingers together.

another few minutes and you’re still unsure of where you are, the dark tint of the windows is only adding onto the difficulty to spot the exact location. blue stops abruptly and turns to the two of you, “i was told to let you off here.” he says. the street is empty, but somewhat familiar. you weren’t able to get another look before jungkook covered your eyes.

“it’s a surprise, close your eyes.” he says. out of habit, you close your eyes, giving your trust to jungkook. jungkook steps out of the car first and then the door to the left of you opens. you keep your eyes closed and scoot out of the car with jungkooks’ help. he helps you out and onto the ground where he leads you somewhere onto the sidewalk.

“can i open my eyes now?” you ask, still squeezing your eyes shut.

“in a sec,” jungkook promises. bringing you a little further, you can hear him open a door and feel him lead you inside. “you can open your eyes now, we have to go up some stairs first.” he tells you.

when you open your eyes, you’re in a staircase with carpeted floors and metal railings. it looks fancy. the two of you make it up the stairs and you still can’t tell where the hell you are before jungkook tells you to close your eyes again. he opens another door and leads you out, leading you through a curtain you can feel. now you can hear some noise, quiet bickers of a crowd of people. it had to be hundreds of people out there.

you hear jungkook sit down beside you before he speaks up once more, “okay, open.”

scared, you only open your right eye just a peek. from the image, there’s an entire crowd below you. you’re in a theater of some sort. no, wait— it’s not just some theater, it’s the theater. the one that jimin’s performing at! that’s when your eyes shoot open. you’re back in the city, with jungkook by your side, about to watch your best friends’ performance.

“no way.” you spoke quietly, facing jungkook. he only smiles at you, holding your hand in his. “did you really do this for me?” the two of you sat in the highest box seat, jimin called them ‘the rich people seats.’ no one can really see you from here and you had one of the best views; it was perfect.

it was just so thoughtful. he must have noticed how homesick you were feeling, how much you yearned to see your friends again. this is the best gift you could have ever received. you’re not even sure what to say, and jungkook understands. he doesn’t expect any thank you’s or a major display of affection. he’s just happy that you’re happy.

when the lights dim and the music begins to play, you can’t help but feel the tears start to build in your eyes. “thank you, jungkook, so much.” you pull yourself close to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“of course, princess.” he tells you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. “anything for you.”

with that, a tear falls and the curtains are drawn. revealing jimin standing in position with a beautiful dark forest background, performing his black swan routine. one of his longest and most physically intensive choreography he’s ever made. but it’s so damn gorgeous. he performs flawlessly and receives a standing ovation. you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

during the extended applause, jungkook stands up pulls you along, through another carpeted hallway. “wait— where are we going?” you ask him. his other hand holds a bouquet that literally came out of nowhere. “and where did you get those flowers?!”

“we’re gonna see jimin!” he tells you as he maneuvers through the never ending hallways. “oh, and i hid these— so you could give them to jimin.”

the two of you stop just before another door, you pull him back gently. “what? people are going to see us, jungkook, we aren’t allowed to be outside of the kingdom without proper guards.”

“no one will see us, i promise, jimin will meet us here in this room.” he tells you. the both of you peek through the door window, it was an empty practice room. the door on the other side of the room opens and it’s the cue that it’s safe to come in. “ready?” he asks, holding the flowers out for you to take.

you start crying again, it was immediate. jungkook wipes the tears away quickly, “don’t cry, princess.” he places a sweet kiss on your forehead before he hands you the bouquet and opens the door for you.

then there in the middle of the room stands your best friend. his arms open for a hug and you run into them. crying even harder when you realize that jimin is crying too, you can hear the way he sniffles. “why are you crying?! you did amazing!” you sob.

“because you’re here and everything went perfectly— it’s just overwhelming.” he admits, pulling back from the hug. the two of you laugh at your crying faces.

“congratulations, jimin.” you tell him, holding out the flowers for him.

“thank you, ___.” he accepts them with a smile, wiping his tears and turning his attention to jungkook, who stands at the door as a lookout. “jungkook—! oh crap, wait— should i call him majesty or highness or something?” jimin’s quickly tries to correct himself, asking you for advice.

you can only laugh and shake your head. “you can just call him jungkook.”

“i was called?” jungkook stands just behind you, with a smile on his face.

“yeah, man— come here.” jimin embraces him in a hug and jungkook doesn’t object it.

rubbing his back, jungkook congratulates him as well. “you’re incredibly talented, jimin.” he smiles when he pulls away. “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“thank—”

“jimin! it’s curtain call!” a lady barges into the practice room. she stands speechless for a second, her eyes darting straight to jungkook. “wait, is that prince jungkook?!” all of you are wide eyed. jimin’s mouth is silently telling you two to ‘run!’ before you knew it, she was pulling out her phone, trying to take a picture.

jimin is quick to block the camera as he shouts. “go! hurry!” the two of you rush out of the door you came from. you and jungkook bolt back to the car, blue is a little startled when you both jump in, breathless.

“everything alrig—“

“drive!” you demanded.

“shit— alright!” blue complies and steps on the gas, getting you out of the parking spot behind the theater and now onto the streets of the city.

now that everyone’s calmed down. you just realized that you, again, have no idea where you were going. “now where are we off to? it’s about eleven o’clock, right?”

“go with the plan, blue.” jungkook tells him. with the creepy wording, you begin to feel more suspicion around the two of them. what more surprises could there be?

the three of you spent another fifteen or so minutes of driving, and quite frankly you were tired of looking for little landmarks to pinpoint where you were. just as you were about to ask again, blue stops the car and looks at jungkook.

“okay, another surprise— close your eyes.” jungkook says. you can’t help but admit this is kind of fun. sure, you were annoying the hell out of the boys for the past fifteen minutes asking when you were gonna get there and where you were going. but they love you either way.

you keep your eyes squeezed shut as jungkook helps you out of the car and onto another sidewalk. “just a little further.” he says, leading you closer to whatever it was. just before he speaks again, you hear a little jingle. “okay, open.”

when your eyes finally adjust to the city lights, you recognize the building entirely too well. a place that you lived for five years. “is this— are we— no way!” you stutter, purely out of surprise. you were sure that you weren’t going to see this place for at least another decade.

you stand there speechless, just like how you did at jimin’s recital, for a good minute or so. jungkook has to wave his hand in front of your face to break you out of the trance.

“so, are you gonna show me your apartment or not?” jungkook grins, holding up your cutely decorated keychain. you squeal in excitement as he hands you the keys and you drag him into the building. it’s only been about a month and a half since you’ve last seen it, but it feels so nostalgic. it feels special. you suspect it’s because of the man whose hand you’re holding right now.

up the elevator and to the left, the apartment labeled with a silver plated 101 beckons you inside. soon enough, you’re pulling jungkook through the door and giving him a detailed tour of your shoe closet that is right there when you walk in.

as the two of you walk around, it’s cleaner than you remember. venus must have gotten people to tidy the place up after you left. just as you finish the very short tour of your apartment, you remember that you’d left some things from jimin and seungyeon in your room. “make yourself at home, my prince, i’ll just be in my room, collecting some things.” you excuse yourself and let jungkook look around some more.

if jungkook were honest, he would have told you that he got a bit of whiplash from your tour. he was turning every two seconds because you were speaking so fast. you were just so excited, and jungkook couldn’t have been happier. everything was going exactly as planned. the clock was ticking and jungkook did have a schedule to be on, but there was nothing wrong with a little snooping around your apartment. he wanted to see the place that you called home for the past five years.

your couch looks cozy, blankets on one side with decorative pillows to adorn the piece of furniture. your coffee table is cute too. you’ve got good taste. everything just seems so you. so when jungkook turns toward the bookcase you mentioned earlier into your tour. it was crowded with books, photo albums, cd’s, and records. a specific photo album catches his eyes, a cute light blue album. on the spine it was labeled: ‘jjk’ and from what jungkook knows, it must be his initials.

it’s when he opens it is when he confirms. the album is full of pictures of the two of you when you were kids, at every festival, from infant to teens. flipping through the pages, both of your smiles never changed. over the years; in both of your eyes, the certain glimmer of love shines so brightly. he puts it back with a soft smile after he’s flipped through all the pages. another book catches his eyes, your favorite fairy tale story: hansel and gretel. while everyone made fun of your choice of story, jungkook thought it was cool. you were all about safety and stranger danger, therefore making hansel and gretel a good story for kids to read (in your opinion.) you always read it when you needed to make an important decision, you called it a comfort read. it helped you get into the right mindset, think about all the pros and especially the cons of the decision you were about to make.

jungkook was only going to look at it and flip through the pages mindlessly. but when he pulls it out of its place in the bookshelf, two envelopes fall out from between the pages. squatting down, he picks up the fallen pieces of paper and coincidentally, sees his name on one of the letters. the other is blank, just a plain envelope. if it was addressed to him, then it means it was meant for him, therefore, he could read it… right?

jungkook,

if you are reading this, then that means i’ve already left for the city.

first, i wanted to apologize: for everything. for not telling you that i would leave sooner, for leaving you, for not telling you how i felt.

i was scared terrified that i would ruin our friendship if i ever told you, but now, since i don’t know if i’ll ever come back. i need to get this off my chest.

i’ve wanted to tell you this for the longest time.

jeon jungkook, i am in love with you.

i’m sorry this is how you had to find out, i’m sorry i didn’t have the courage to tell you in person.

but i love you, and i think i always will.

i hope you will be happy, whoever you marry. i hope they love you the way you deserve.

i hope to be at your wedding when i hear the news.

i’m sorry again.

sincerely,

___

easily, his eyes gloss over. you’ve loved him all along. he should have known. how could he have not known? thoughts run through his mind at hundreds of miles an hour; what would have happened if you did give this to him when you left. he probably would have gotten on the next plane out and searched the city to find you. probably would have done the exact same thing he did recently, beg you to give the two of you a chance. he shakes his head, sliding the letter back into its envelope. reading the other letters wouldn’t hurt, right?

of course not, he tells himself. he was always so nosy. the blank envelope held multiple pieces of paper. most of them were unfinished confessions to him, smudged black ink with multiple sentences crossed off. from what he can count, you wanted to confess to him at least five times now.

jungkook isn’t sure how he feels, he just knows how in love he is. this feeling of being surrounded by warmth, it’s enough to make a tear slip out. he can’t help but smile either. this is the boost of confidence he needed for tonight. he was so nervous before, that everything would go terribly wrong, but now he’s just so… content, so happy. he wanted to hug you, kiss you, everything. so he puts the envelopes back into the book, places it back into the shelf and makes his way to your room. your body hovers over your vanity, digging through your jewelry box.

“my princess.” jungkook pouts even though you can’t see him. coming from behind, he hugs you tightly and rests his head against yours. he tries to hide the way that his tears began to tear up. you look up from your tangle of necklaces, turning and taking him into your arms.

“are you crying?” the single tear that rolls down his cheek grabs your attention. your hand immediately coming up to wipe it away. “what’s wrong? do you hate my little apartment that much?” you let out a laugh.

he laughs too, shaking his head with a smile. “your little apartment is perfect— i love it actually, i love you.”

“aw,” you mumble against his chest. “i love you too, even though you’re acting super weird.” the two of you stand there, swaying in a hug for a little longer.

“am not.” he rests his chin atop your head.

“whatever you say.” you hum, pulling him towards your prized possession— your queen sized bed. the two of you plop on top, your fluffy comforter proving to be one of the best purchases you have ever made in your entire life. the two of you lay there in silence for a little bit, you almost fall asleep due to how warm jungkook is.

“as much as i would love to cuddle and take a nap in your bed, we’re on a tight schedule— c’mon.” jungkook says as he stands from your bed, pulling you up.

“a schedule?” you quirk an eyebrow. “what else are we gonna do in the city? our faces are plastered all over the internet, not to mention you’re the most-thirsted-after prince in the entire world.” you ask as he tugs you through the hallway and back into the living room.

“can you show me the roof?” jungkook asks. a sly smile on his face, while you’re still completely clueless.

“of course!” you squeal, excited to show him the amazing view of the city the roof of your building has. the two of you exit your apartment and you pull him up another two flights of stairs. “usually it’s kind of dirty, so don’t mind the mess.” you warn before opening the heavy door.

but when you push it open, the roof is…clean. it’s decorated too. it’s not the same as you last saw it. “huh— would you look at that?” jungkook steps out onto the roof first, with his hands on his hips as he looks back at you. “it looks pretty clean— and look! it’s set up for dinner...?” he acts surprised. his eyebrows raised as the two of you walk towards the dinner table. he pulls out the chair for you to sit down and you can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“so this was your plan.” you snort. dinner was in the shape of cups of ice cream. it was adorable. “ice cream for dinner?”

jungkook nods, handing you a tiny spoon for the ice cream. “your favorite.”

he did all of this for me. you realize the effort. he must have gone through meticulous planning and conspiring all of this in secret. he’s good. really good. god, you could kiss him.

the two of you sit there in the ambiance of the late city night, eating ice cream and having a small conversation. whenever the conversation paused, you could hear some music playing quietly in the back.

jungkook really did deserve the mantle of prince charming. king of romance. ruler of your heart.

“do you hear that?” jungkook asks, holding a hand out next to his ear. a familiar tune playing from wherever the music was. standing up, he extends his grasp for you to take. “a dance, princess?”

“you know i have two left feet.” you try to decline him, remembering how taehyung teased you about the way that you tripped over his feet when the two of you danced at your welcome home party. but jungkook doesn’t mind. he loves dancing with you, always has. he loves the way that your feet crash into his, how focused you get when you try not to get the moves wrong. he wanted to waltz with you everywhere, even if you stood on his feet the entire time.

“just follow me, alright?” he smiles. giving in, you take his hand and the two of you make your way to the middle of the rooftop. the night sky bearing witness to one of the most romantic things you’ve ever received. you feel his hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to step where he does.

“sparks, huh?” you smile, finally putting a title on the song playing. “kind of a sad song to dance to.” following his moves, dancing does seem a little easier with jungkook there.

“i thought it was perfect.” he states, leading you in for a twirl and then back into his arms. “it explains exactly how i feel about you.

“yeah?” you look up to him. even in this faint lighting, the abandoned flickering light bulbs that hang from strings all across the rooftop from an old tenant party, he still shines so bright.

he nods. the two of you silently sway for another few beats of the song. you lay your head against his chest, the beat of his heart is as calming as the music in the back. maybe if you just leave your eyes closed, this moment could last forever.

meanwhile, jungkook is trying to amp himself up to get these words out. another confession and an important question sits heavy on his tongue. he knows you feel the same, knows that you’ll accept, but he’s still so nervous. what if you don’t say yes and he’s left there with his knee against the rough concrete floor? what if this was just too cheesy for you and you hate it?

jungkook tells himself there’s only one way to find out.

“i— can i tell you something?” he asks. you lift your head away and look in his eyes, they greet you with that sweet eye smile that hasn’t changed in all the days you’ve known him.

“of course.” you pull yourself back, holding his hands.

“when you were gone...i was always afraid that i was romanticizing you— i had nothing but our memories and the small talks we would have sometimes through our parents,” he admits. “i was scared that i was in love with the idea of you, and not… you— you know?”

his confession makes you stop in your tracks, clear disbelief on your face as you drop his hands from your grasp. “what?! jungkook— why are you telling me this now?” you groan, folding your arms over your chest. you move to grab your phone to find a way to reverse this. “you know what— it’s not too late to cancel the engagement and call up the king of fenutar— i’m sure they’ll forgive you— yeah, let’s give them a call—”

he pulls you back gently, “princess, relax.” he laughs. “i was just getting started.”

your gaze softens, letting him finish his point as he restarts the sway. your feet move with his, slowly to the beat of the song playing in the back. it’s changed to something calmer, from what you could hear, it sounds like cigarettes after sex.

“this past month, ever since you came back—” he starts up once more. you attention falling back onto him instead of the music in the back. “i don’t know what it is, but i think i was wrong.” he says. you gently furrow your eyebrows. confused as to what he means. jungkook brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before raising his thumb to soothe the creases in your forehead.

relaxing your muscles under his touch, he lowers his hands back down to hold your hands. he says the next words, staring straight into your eyes. “i love you, i always want to be around you, i wonder if you are alright— if you’re sad, because i want to be there for you, i want to take care of you.” your hands are pulled close to him, enough for him to be able to gently press a kiss against your knuckles. “i want to be by your side, against foes seen and unseen.”

“so—“ he lets go of your hand to pull a tiny white box out from his pocket and gets on one knee. “will you marry me?”

the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

you let out a little laugh, your smile going from ear to ear. “yes! of course— yes, yes!” tears collect in your eyes quickly. holding your arms out for him, jungkook comes up and collects your embrace. a tear slips out and he can hear your sniffle. gently, he wipes the tear away, and the two of you stare at each other just long enough. long enough to understand that this was the time.

you both lean forward and finally, let your lips connect. a kiss seals the fate of both hearts involved.

dreaming of this moment ever since you were fifteen has given you quite high expectations for it, but jungkook always exceeds expectations. even when you think he couldn’t be anymore perfect, he always has something up his sleeve. it shows in the way his kiss is gentle, but so passionate. transferring his love to you in the most efficient way possible.

jungkook is in dreamland almost. wonders if this is what being on drugs is like. pure euphoria. knows that this is what love stories are based off of. pure adoration. fears what he’ll do if he won’t be able to kiss you. the beginning of an addiction. your lips, they take him prisoner.

slowly, the two of you pull away and stare at each other like love sick puppies. jungkook holds your face in his hand as you lean into his grasp. the sound of confetti poppers startle you, flinching at the noise before looking to see what happened. through the rain of confetti, you can see all of them. seungyeon, jimin, blue, taehyung, eunwoo, and yugyeom. you didn’t think it could get any better. you were so happy.

“congratulations, your majesties.” blue moves forward after the confetti settles and hands the two of you a purple rose. the national flower of raemor and it was a common tradition to give engaged couples raemors for good luck all throughout their relationship and marriage. you thank blue with a hug and so does jungkook. jimin and seungyeon also congratulate you, seungyeon pulls out her camera and shows you the pictures she took while she was hidden with everyone behind the huge skylights.

eunwoo takes hold of your hand gently, raising the ring up for everyone to see. jimin and seungyeon also come close to get a better look, holding your arm still. “that rock is adorable, jungkook.” he pats him on the back. making slight fun of the stones size. everyone in the kingdom was used to huge gems, rings that would weigh down the finger of the wearer. you give eunwoo a light shove.

the ring was your style. it was actually really thoughtful too. there were conversations where you and jungkook would gossip about the adults sometimes, you knew everything back then. who was cheating on who, whose wives knew about the mistress, whose husbands knew about the paramour. then most of the time, they would solve it through money. buying bigger, more expensive material things to woo them, to make them forget the betrayals. you hated it. you specifically remember telling jungkook that you’d rather have a small ring and a great love, instead of a big ring and a loveless marriage.

so when you stare at the pretty gem laid on your ring finger, you realize it’s just more evidence that jungkook listens, and he takes your words into account. you couldn’t have been happier with the piece of jewelry. “i think it’s beautiful.” you pout in defense of the ring.

“it’s a red diamond.” namjoon tells them. “one of the rarest diamonds in the world.”

“how much is it?” yugyeom peers at the ring as well, he likes the way it sparkles even without the light.

“it doesn’t matter!” you groan, looking at jungkook for some help as four different people have your hand in their grasp.

“the diamond itself is roughly about five million— the rest of the ring, i can’t say.” namjoon shrugs nonchalantly.

jimin and seungyeon gasp at the same time, same pitch. both yugyeom and eunwoo’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “sorry man— i thought it was a ruby.” eunwoo scratches the back of his head. jungkook only laughs at the conversation, not taking any of it to heart, along with taehyung (and chaeyoung!) who helped him customize the ring in the first place.

“five million?! are you serious?” you turn to him, about to scold him for wasting his money. just for an engagement ring too?!

he catches your hand before you can shove him like you did eunwoo. he brings it to his mouth, kissing your ring finger gently. before coming close to your ear, he whispers, “it’s worth way more than five million.”

“jungkook!”

taglist: @kookxin @fan-ati--c

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themagnuswriters · 4 years

Text

Writing a Muslim Character

The Mods of the Magnus Writers discord server and community are putting together a variety of resources for Magnus Archives fan creators; these have been collated from articles on the topics, our own experiences, and the experiences of the members of the Magnus Writers discord. These are definitely not comprehensive or the only viewpoints out there, and are by no means meant as a way to police fanworks, but as a way to support and inspire fan creators in creating thoughtful and diverse works. Please note that external links will be added in a reblog to outsmart tumblr’s terrible tagging system, so make sure to check those out as well!

This resource in particular was put together by Mod Jasmine: hi, all!

While there are no canonically Muslim characters in TMA, Muslim headcanons are common in fanworks—particularly for Basira, and sometimes Jon (which I love to see!). I have cobbled together this post from my own experiences to help support and inform fans in these areas, and as part of my diabolical plan to get more Muslim!Basira and Muslim!Jon fics to shove into my brain.

First, two gigantic caveats:

I was raised Sunni Muslim in Egypt, which is a majority Sunni Muslim country, and still live there. This means my experience will be very different from someone raised in a majority Christian country like the UK, and different again if they are not Sunni and not Arab.

I am currently ex-Muslim. This does not mean I bear any ill will towards Islam or Muslims, just that it wasn’t for me, and I felt it was important to be upfront about that. I’ll be linking to resources by practicing Muslims in the reblog to this post, whether to add to my opinions and experiences or provide you with a different opinion. I am not here to put my voice over that of Muslims, just to do some of the work so they don’t have to. Obviously, if any Muslims have any additions or suggestions for this post, I’m happy to accommodate them.

Alright. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started with the basics of writing a Muslim character.

(Warning: this is absurdly, absurdly long)

Basics:

Muslims follow two main sources of religious instruction: Quran and Hadith.

The Quran is the holy book, considered to be dictated by the angel Gabriel to the Prophet Mohammed, who then relayed what he was told to his followers. It is composed of surahs, or chapters, which have individual ayat, or verses. There are no varying versions of the Quran, later additions, or anything considered lost in translation. Any Arabic Quran is considered to be the same text that the Prophet Mohammed relayed, unchanged. As a result, while Muslims can debate interpretations of the Quran (although that’s often still left to the scholars), none debate the actual words of the text.

Hadith, meanwhile, are the sayings or teachings of the Prophet Mohammed. Their validity can be disputed, as they were written by his followers after his death, and mainly depend on having several witnesses for a specific saying or situation. The more witnesses there were, the more valid the hadith is considered to be.

When in doubt or should there be any contradiction between the Quran and Hadith, Muslims will always refer to the Quran first and foremost.

Denominations:

The bigggest (but not only!) divisions of Islam are Sunni and Shia, and both of those have separate madhabs, which are the separate thoughts and stances of specific Imams. When writing a Muslim character, a good first step would be to decide where your character’s family might have come from, as that could help inform which denomination your character might belong to. This will in turn inform things like the beliefs they grew up with, how they pray, their holy holidays, and so on. Obviously, all denominations fall under the bigger umbrella of Muslim, but can vary in practice.

Background:

The intersection of culture and religion affects a character beyond which denomination they likely belong to, such as whether they call prayer salah or namaz, the foods they might associate with Ramadan or Eid, and their community’s stance on things like hijab and alcohol.

One thing to keep in mind is that being Muslim is not synonymous with being Arab and vice versa. Not all Arabs are Muslim, not all Muslims are Arab or even Middle Eastern. In fact, the largest Muslim country in the world is Indonesia. That said, depending on your character’s race and backround, there is the potential they may have faced Arab elitism or other strands of racism within Muslim circles. Please see the reblog of this post for an article about one Black British Muslim woman’s experience with racism.

And, of course, your character and their family do not need to have been immigrants at all. They or their family may have been converts instead. According to most Muslim schools of thought, all that’s required for a person to be Muslim is stating the shahada in Arabic, honestly and with intent. It goes, “Ashhadu an la ilah illa Allah, wa an Mohammadan rasul Allah,” which translates as “I bear witness that there is no god but God, and that Mohammed is His prophet.” Shia Muslims, I believe, have an additional section, but otherwise that’s it. Recite that in front of witnesses with sincere belief and that’s all you need to be Muslim.

Pillars of Islam:

These are the duties or cornerstones of a Muslim’s faith and considered to be acts every Muslim should strive for. What the pillars are can, I think, differ between denominations, with Shia Muslims having additional ancillaries as well (any Shia readers, please feel free to correct me!) but both denominations agree that the following are important:

Salah—prayer

Sawm—fasting during Ramadan

Zakat—giving a certain percentage of income to charity or the community

Hajj—pilgrimage to Mecca

In all cases, these are considered mandatory only for those who are able. A person who cannot perform hajj, whether due to not being physically able to or lacking the funds to travel, is under no obligation.

Prayer:

Prayer is performed five times a day while facing the Qibla, which is the direction of Mecca. Prayer is formed of units, called rak’at, which consists of a set of actions done in a specific order. The “How to Pray Salah, Step by Step” article linked in the reblog of this post provides fairly good prayer instructions for beginners, so check it out for details! These include bowing, prostrating, and reciting some surahs.

Each of the five daily prayers has a different number of rak’at, as well as its own name and allotted time of day, as follows:

Fajr, which means Dawn and can be performed at any point until the sun rises (two rak’at).

Dhuhr, which means Noon (four rak’at)

Asr, performed in the afternoon (four rak’at)

Maghreb, which means sunset and can be performed at any point until it’s dark (three rak’at)

Isha, performed at night and can be done at any point until dawn (four rak’at)

The specific time of prayer will differ day to day and place to place, according to the sun, but those are the rough timeframes for each. It’s generally preferred that a Muslim does their prayer on time, but in practice some Muslims find it difficult to wake up for Fajr, for instance, and just try to make sure they get a morning prayer in before noon.

On Friday, there is a congregational Friday prayer at Dhuhr in a mosque called the Jumu’a prayer (which, fun fact, literally means gathering and is also the Arabic name for Friday!). Only men are required to take part in the congregation, however.

In Muslim majority countries, the time for prayer is announced by the adhaan, the call to prayer, from mosques and in media. This won’t be the case in the UK, and the character will likely have to rely on an adhaan app or looking up what time prayer should be.

There are various requirements for a prayer to be correct, chief of which is facing the Qibla and purity. Before performing prayer, a Muslim must purify themself by performing wudu, or ablutions, which basically involves washing the hands, arms, nostrils, face, head, and feet a specific number of times using clean water. The way I was taught these must be performed in a certain order, and the person shouldn’t speak during or after until their prayer is finished. This may be different for others.

Wudu is considered valid until nullified by bodily functions such as urinating, defecating, vomiting, flatulence, or any sexual activity. For Sunni Muslims, it’s also invalidated by going to sleep. If none of these have happened, a Muslim can perform more than one prayer using the same wudu.

Notably, a Muslim cannot pray if they’re on their period, as they’re considered in a state of impurity.

Another important requirement is that a Muslim be dressed modestly for prayer. The general guideline is that Muslim men should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing, and that during prayer it’s preferred that they cover their chests as well Muslim women should cover everything except their face, hands, and feet. This means that a woman who isn’t hijabi would still wrap a hijab for prayer. For nonbinary Muslims, I don’t think there are specific guidelines yet, although please feel free to correct me.

If praying at home, a family may choose to pray together. In this case, the male head of the household usually stands at the front and acts as Imam, leading the prayer. Other men will tend to be in front of or beside women, as generally women should not pray in front of a man. This is the case even, especially, if he is not praying.

Children aren’t required to pray, as they’re considered innocent and have no obligations, but may want to take part early on or may be encouraged to practice.

Praying is one area you’ll find denominational differences. For example, while Sunnis fold their arms in prayer, Shia keep their arms to their side, and while Shia Muslims make sure their foreheads touch a piece of clay or earth when they prostrate, Sunnis do not. If you write your character praying, keep these details in mind.

Fasting:

During the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from Fajr (dawn) until Maghreb (sunset) every day. This means they abstain from consuming anything—yes, even water, cigarettes, and medicine. They should also abstain from sexual activities and cursing. Most importantly, they must have the intention to be fasting. This means that not eating and drinking because they were asleep for that entire period of time or just lost track and forgot does not count as fasting.

Generally, the idea is more to try to be more pious and avoid sin throughout the month. It’s thought that the shaytan (or devil) is chained up during Ramadan, so any temptation or sinning is a person’s own doing. The way I was raised, I was taught that sawm/fasting is invalidated by sexual thoughts and raising your voice as well. Many people also try to dress more modestly during Ramadan, with some women opting for looser clothing or a headscarf. Many Muslims will try to read the whole Quran during Ramadan.

After Maghreb, Muslims break their fast with Iftar (which means breakfast, hah) and have a late night meal called Suhour. Since the Muslim calendar is a lunar calendar, Ramadan is 11 days earlier every year. Depending on when Ramadan falls in the year, there can be barely any time between iftar and suhour in certain parts of the world, as the sun is up for so much of the day.

Given the length of time and difficulty involved, there are exceptions and allowances for fasting. A person is not required to fast if they are:

A child (up to puberty)

Ill or has a medical condition such as diabetes

Pregnant

Travelling

On their period

In fact, if they are on their period it will not be counted, even if they do fast. That said, sometimes people choose to fast while travelling anyway, as travel is less strenuous now than it used to be. If they’re crossing time zones they will have to consider which time zone they’re breaking their fast to. As far as I remember, it’s based on the time zone of the place they just left or started their fast in.

If an obstacle to fasting is temporary, such as their period, they’re expected to make those days up with additional fasting before next Ramadan. Otherwise, they are allowed to make up for the lost fast in another way, such as by donating money or feeding fasting people. Whether due to societal pressure (which is formidable in Muslim-majority countries) or out of consideration for others who are fasting, those who are not fasting for whatever reason may often choose to hide this and only eat in secret.

If a person forgets they were fasting or accidentally consumes something, it does not invalidate the fast , and as soon as they remember or realise the mistake they can have the intention to fast again and continue with their day.

While children are exempt, many families will start them off by fasting for half a day so they can build up to a full day when they hit puberty.

Ramadan traditions vary wildly from country to country and culture to culture, but generally it’s a time for family gathering and celebration. Often there are special Ramadan-specific food, drink, and decorations, and it ends with Eid ul-Fitr which has its own specific foods and celebrations. Basically, imagine if Christmas lasted a month. That’s how big a deal Ramadan is.

In my experience, the first few days are usually the hardest. Water is what I tended to miss the most, even if I managed to stay up long enough or set an alarm to wake up to drink just before fajr, followed closely by swearing. Anyone who drinks caffeine or smokes cigarettes will likely find abstaining from those more difficult than water. By the end of the month, though, it gets much easier and I often got to the point where I barely noticed. I will say, however, that the longest I’ve had to fast has been maybe 16 hours. A summer Ramadan in the UK would be more difficult due to the much later sunsets.

Halal and Haram:

Halal means “permissible,” while haram means “forbidden.” You might have heard these words in passing before, such as halal food, but they are used for many areas of life.

Things that are considered haram include:

Consuming, serving, or trading in intoxicants, such as alcohol

Consuming improperly slaughtered meat or meat from forbidden animals, such as pork

Extramarital sex

Tattoos

Gambling

Men wearing silk or gold

A Muslim woman marrying a non-Muslim man (although it’s fine for a Muslim man to marry a non-Muslim woman)

Being immodest

Modesty is expected of all genders, including men. If you’ll recall from the section on prayer, the general guideline for male modesty is that they should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing. Note that for women, modesty does not necessarily involve wearing a hijab. There is actually a ton of controversy as to whether the hijab is a fard (requirement) or not, as described in the following section.

The Hijab:

To be hijabi takes more than just throwing on a headscarf. As a word, hijab means “barrier” or “veil,” and a hijabi person would be expected to cover everything except their face and the palms of their hands, and to ensure that their clothes are loose and non-revealing. It all comes from an interpretation of two verses in the Quran that many scholars nowadays agree to mean the hijab is required, and that some say actually call for a face covering as well, which is called a niqab.

This wasn’t always the case, however, and these days there is still the occasional controversial scholar (I remember a few kerfuffles coming out of Egypt’s Al-Azhar mosque recently) saying it isn’t and has never been required at all. At least in the Arab world, this is largely due to the wave of Wahhabism (which is a specifically fundamentalist interpretation of Islam) that’s taken over the region in the past half a century. Before that, the idea of a hijab being a religious requirement was less widespread.

I’m not here to argue who’s right or wrong, just to make you aware that the hijab as we know it today hasn’t always been considered a requirement for a Muslim woman. Most of the women of my family never wore any form of head covering, but more and more they are an exception rather than the norm.

The choice of whether to wear a hijab can mean very different things, depending on the surrounding culture. For instance, my grandmother, the strictest woman I have ever known, got married in a very cute sleeveless dress that went just under the knees, and when she grew older she wore a head-covering more as a cultural indication of age rather than any religious reason. In my generation, in a country with a Muslim majority, lack of visible signs of devoutness have become almost a class marker, with some upper-class women using their lack of head-covering as a sign that they are “more Westernized” or “modern.” And again, I want to emphasize that this is the case for my country only.

This will be completely different for Muslim minorities, where the hijab can become a symbol of pride and unity.

I will say that it’s very rare for women to be forced into getting veiled, whether in Muslim minority or majority countries. I’m not saying it never happens, just that it’s not the “oppressive tool of the patriarchy” outsiders sometimes think it is. Women may face some societal pressure, but by and large it is considered a choice and often an empowering one. In fact, I have friends whose families discouraged them from wearing a hijab too young and emphasized only taking the decision when they were sure they wanted to. If writing a Muslim character when you’re non-Muslim, I strongly suggest not trying to tackle the story of someone forced into a hijab, as there’s a lot of nuance there and it’s very easy to fall into harmful stereotypes. The hijabi woman who gets “liberated” and takes off her hijab is also overdone and harmful. Please don’t.

Everyday Life:

Muslims are not a monolithic entity, and some will be more devout or religious than others. There are those who will pray their five a day and others who only pray during Ramadan or Eid, some who don’t drink and some who do, hijabis who dress only in loose clothing and those who wear tight trousers or show some of their hair, some who have tattoos, and some who may date or even have sex before marriage. However, this isn’t a carte-blanche not to do research when writing a Muslim character, because even if they break a rule of Islam, they will be conscious of it, may be concerned about their community’s response to it, and in any case will be affected by it.

For instance, I know many Muslims who drink alcohol. Some interpret the text differently, saying that since the sin is getting drunk then they won’t drink enough to get drunk, just buzzed. Some only do it on special occasions or on vacation, saying they know it’s a sin but it’s fine on occasion and they’ll repent later. All of them would probably dive under a table if they thought their family was nearby.

For more opinions on Muslims and dealing with alcohol, take a look at the “Islam and Alcohol” article linked in the reblog of this post.

Here are things that a character who is a practicing Muslim might do or be concerned about in their day to day life:

Checking ingredients to make sure they’re all halal. This goes for things like food, drink, medicine, anything consumable. Things like gelatine capsules are only halal if the source of the gelatine is itself halal, for instance.

Keeping up with their prayers. With five prayers a day, some will inevitably happen while they’re out of the house. Some Muslims prefer to just group their prayers when they get home, but since it’s preferable to do prayers on time, others may try to pray while out and about This means considering the following:

Finding a bathroom for wudu. Part of wudu involves washing feet and the head, which isn’t feasible in a public location or if the person is hijabi and doesn’t want to unwrap and rewrap their hijab. In that case, they can generally wipe a wet hand over their socks and top of their head covering.

They may carry a prayer carpet or have one stashed in a convenient location, but it’s not a must.

Finding a clean and secluded place to pray. Generally, it’s not done to pray in a place where someone will pass in front of you, and a woman must also take care to pray away from men’s eyes.

Figuring out where the Qibla is. Luckily, there are apps for that.

If a woman is not hijabi, she would have to carry a veil and, depending on her clothes, something to cover up so she can pray.

If they’re hijabi, they’ll probably have to adjust or re-wrap their hijab throughout the day, depending on the material and their activities. This would typically happen in bathrooms or any other space that doesn’t include men, as they can’t reveal themselves to any men who aren’t of their immediate family. For more on the hijab, and the day to day realities of wearing and wrapping one, take a look at the links provided in the reblog of this post.

A Muslim woman may choose not to accept handshakes from men who aren’t family. She has probably considered how to deal with that potential awkwardness.

If they’re fasting, they might carry some dates or biscuits or something in case they need to break their fast while on the go.

If making plans, they might say, “Insha’allah” which means “God willing.” I was always admonished to do so to acknowledge the future is entirely within God’s hands.

If asked how they are, they might reply with “Alhamdullilah” which means “Thanks be to God.”

When starting to eat, they may say, “Bismillah,” which means “In the name of God” and when done eating may say “Alhamdullilah.” These can also be invoked silently.

As you might have noticed, Allah’s name is invoked pretty often. While it’s not preferable to swear using God’s name just to make a point (“Wallahi”), there’s nothing against it, really.

Fundamentally, an important thing to remember is that Islam is a religion of ease and not hardship. This is an actual Quranic quote. What this means is, it may seem like there are a lot of rules to keep in mind, but there are also a ton of allowances for when those rules aren’t feasible, just like the case for fasting above. Other allowances include how an elderly or disabled person who may not be able to perform the motions of prayer can pray while sitting in a chair or even lying in bed. If there isn’t any clean water to purify before prayer or if using the water would mean lack of drinking water, a Muslim can use dust or sand to purify, and if no dust or sand is available then they don’t need to purify at all and can simply pray.

This means that, say, if your Muslim Jon wants to pray while kidnapped by the circus, he can, even without being able to perform wudu, even without knowing where the Qibla is, even without being able to move or say anything at all.

For more day-to-day tidbits, check out the “More on writing Muslim characters” link in the reblog of this post.

LGBTQ Muslims:

Needless to say, Queer Muslims absolutely do exist, and their being Muslim doesn’t cancel out their queerness or vice versa. While there are Quranic verses that have been interpreted as condemning homosexuality, there are also other interpretations, and queerness has existed in Muslim societies for ages. There was a ton of homoerotic imagery among Abbasid poets during the Golden Age of Islam, for example.

However, modern-day attitudes can be difficult to get around, and queer Muslims may have difficulty finding their place in both Muslim spaces and queer spaces, the latter which often expect them to reject religiosity.

Although I am queer myself, I don’t feel it’s my place to speak for queer Muslims and their relationships with their communities beyond this, so I’ll let some queer practicing Muslims speak for themselves. Please see the reblog of this post for valuable contributions from queer Muslims about their experiences.

Miscellaneous:

This is mostly for all the random tidbits I thought up while writing this that didn’t fit anywhere else and also because I don’t know when to quit apparently, SO!

Allah is just Arabic for God. Muslims can and do use these terms interchangeably, such as saying “God willing,” instead of “Inshallah,” even in an Arabic-speaking country.

Also, God has 99 names! Just a fun fact for you there.

The Devil in Islam is pretty different from his Christian counterpart. Referred to as Iblis or Shaytan, among other names, he is not a fallen angel and there is no great revolt story, nor is he considered a root of all evil. Instead, he is a djinn made of smokeless flame who refused to bow down to Adam, as he felt he was made of superior stuff and not about to bow to a creature made of mud. His disdain for humanity is what has caused him and other shayateen/demons to try and tempt humans.

A person’s right hand is considered purer than their left, so it’s encouraged to always eat with your right hand. Unfortunately, this does mean left-handed people face something of a stigma—or at least that’s the case here in Egypt. My cousins, both lefties, both eat with their right hand, though they do everything else with their left.

Similarly, it is considered better to enter spaces with your right foot, though only the most devout are likely to think of this all the time. This is especially considered for entering a mosque or new home.

A Muslim might say or write “Peace be Upon Him” whenever the Prophet Mohammed is mentioned, written as (PBUH), and “Subhanuh wa Taala” when mentioning Allah, written as (SWT).

The Evil Eye is mentioned in the Quran as “hasad,” and considered to be a very real thing. This jealous or envious energy is considered able to ruin good things in your life, even if the jealous person didn’t intend to. There are some surahs that are considered good to ward against it, as well as incense, the colour blue, the number five, and the symbols of the nazar (which is a round, blue-ringed eye) and the khamsa (an open five-fingered palm, also known as the Hand of Fatima). The nazar, khamsa, and belief in the evil eye aren’t unique to Islam at all. What is unique to Islam is that a Muslim might preface a compliment with “Masha’allah” which means “As God wills it,” to ward off their own evil eye.

Much of the Quran in Arabic rhymes and is very poetic, which can make surahs easy to memorise by rhythm. It can also make recitations by a skilled reader very lovely.

#the magnus archives #tma #writing resources #muslim characters

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hnychn · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 [𝐈𝐈𝐈]

sypnosis : life with your five lovers has been more than fulfilling, but when you're paired with a student from general studies for a project, your quintet seems a little less full

word count : 4000+

warnings : mutual pining, gender neutral reader, relationship insecurities, bakugo tries but. . .it doesn't go as well as he planned, grammar errors and spelling errors, it's . . . a long one, a bit rushed at the end so uhh pls don't mind that :)

parts : [ 𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ]

a/n : so sorry for the long wait LMAO- i know i said my bokuto fic would be coming out today but uhhh ahaha my depression hit me full force this weekend and i didn't even look at the dock because i was too busy sleeping, but uhh enjoy this :D

↩︎ back to student masterlist | main mha masterlist

- WELCOME TO PART THREE sorry for the log wait 😭 life has been kicking my ass but we're not here to hear me complain, we're here for the tea

- so, it's a couple months after you joined the bakusquad and their relationship. and let me tell you, it has been nothing but amazing. 😩 your days are never quiet and they're always filled with some sort of excitement and love.

- you kaminari and mina often get into trouble for leaving the dorms late at night because you want snacks and there's nothing in the kitchens. you become kirishima's pillow, don't matter about your size or whatever, you are his pillow and you better not argue 🔫 sero always puts on some type of bachata or reggaeton or some spanish song and dances with you in his dorms. and bakugo is your go to person to cook with and just generally annoy or prank since it's so easy to get a reaction out of him.

- and you couldn't have asked for a better relationship. you all are so communicative and talk about your feelings often and how you're doing. every saturday or sunday, you all go to a dorm (usually it's bakugo's cause it's the cleanest) and have a huge cuddle pile and talk about your mental states, how you're doing, what you have problems with, etc etc.

- like damn ok i see you with the mentally and emotionally stable relationship 🤪🤪

- it's so refreshing too because sometimes you'll have a tough week and you jsut need to let it all out, and you can in the comfort of bakugo's dorm and you know none of them will judge you because they're all so open about their love for you (and vise versa)

- anyways, yeah y'all got the best relationship

- you never thought about anyone else in a romantic sense because the squad took up nearly all of the space in your heart. but when you teacher announced one day the general studies kids would be coming in to have a joint project to create gadgets for the hero course students, you had no idea your life would suddenly be turned upsidedown.

- you were paired with a guy named shinsou. he looked friendly enough and returned the wave you sent him with a little surprise as he made his way to the open seat next to you. he seemed surprised when you started a small conversation but he talked to you in a quiet soothing voice. he seemed nice enough and you figured the project would be a breeze since he seemed so nice and offered to meet up over the weekend to start up some ideas for the project.

- you agreed and the two of you met up that lunch period in the library to pre-draft some ideas and get to know each other more.

"i'm surprised you don't mind being seen with me."

his sudden comment took you by surprise as you looked up from your paper with messily drawn gadgets and chicken scratch writing to look up at him, "what do you mean?"

it was true you had never seen him before or even heard of him, but his hesitance to talk to you and open up to you made you feel as though you should.

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and looked away shyly, "so you really haven't heard anything about me, have you?"

he looked almost guilty to bring it up, his gaze falling to the table in front of him as be played with a strand of his hair.

you shook your head. you never really payed attention to gossip around school, your head always too high up in the clouds to care about rumors and gossip (bakugo often scolded you for being such an airhead and ignorant to your surroundings, but you knew he was just worried about something happening to you). plus, to you, gossip was nearly never right and more often made up and fictitious.

shinsou refused to look up at you, "well. . .i'm known throughout the school as a. . ." he looked hesitant to continue but before you could reassure him he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to, he continued, "well, a villain."

he prised his lips as if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and all you could do was tilt your head. shinsou didn't seem like a bad person - or a 'villain' as he had said. on the way to the library he held open doors for you and helped you carry some of your books to your locker and even bought you a drink you wanted buy but were a bit short of change on.

"do you think you are?"

"what?" shinsou looked at you for the first time since he brought up the topic.

"do you think you're a villain?" he shuffled slightly in his seat and looked away again from your intense stare. he felt like you were looking straight into his soul from how strongly you were looking into his eyes, he wasn't sure if you had even blinked in the last minute.

shinsou thought back to all the times he's been called a villain or a criminal. it was always unwarranted, a passing comment that seemed like no big deal to others but shattered his heart into smaller and smaller pieces. but never once had he ever thought he was a villain - a monster.

if anything, he used those comments as encouragement to become a hero, to be better than those who always thought he would turn to a life of crime. so, "no... i don't think i'm a villain."

"well, that's that."

shinsou could only stare at you, your smile brighter than any star he'd ever seen, so full of hope and encouragement shinsou felt like he could take on the world. he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, a shy smile pulling at his lips and a weird feeling blossoming in his chest. how curious. . .

- so yeah, a new friendship 🤪 the two of you started to spend a lot of free time together for the project. you would often meet up during lunches or free time between classes to work some more on the project, all the while getting to know each other in depth. you learned many things about shinsou and spilled many of your own secrets, you laughed together over old childhood stories, and played animal crossing on the rooftop during lunch, your project discarded and forgotten beside you.

- your sudden absence didn't go unnoticed by your lovers, and they grew curious to your whereabouts when you would blow them off for the fifth time that week to "work on your project". now, don't get me wrong, they had conplete trust in you and knew you would never cheat, but they were just curious as to what - or who - was taking up so much of your time.

- so, they did the smartest thing, and followed you. after blowing them off for the sixth time, they decided to follow you to your destination. mina and kaminari tried to be inconspicuous and wear disguises, but the fake mustache, black glasses (indoors, might i add) and hat weren't all too discreet as they thought.

- they followed you through every turn and weave you took and hid behind a corner when you stopped at a vending machine to get your favourite drink. but what surprised them the most was you also bought a coffee. bakugo was most surprised you even thought about even touching the can of caffine because he remembered you telling him you would get terrible caffine rushes that would make you dizzy if you drank coffee.

- but, as you finally reached the rooftop and made your way to a hunched over figure in the corner, it all made sense.

- they all saw how effortlessly you and shinsou acted around each other. they could see the soft looks he would send you when you weren't looking and the way his hand would hover over yours for a split second too long before snapping away as if you were made of lava. but surprisingly, they didn't feel any sort of jealousy or anger, it felt like a piece of them had returned they didn't even know was missing. the sort of feeling that walks through the door unexpectedly but it's wholesomely welcomed.

- the "oh, there you are, welcome back" type of feeling. they were happy you had found someone that made you feel comfortable, arguably more comfortable than you had been with them so far because truthfully, while you had felt welcomed and appreciated in the relationship, it still felt like you were an outsider. the five of them had inside jokes before you came and didn't get them when they came up, the five of them had habits special to each other that inadvertently excluded you. and while they never meant to hurt you (god knows that's the last thing they ever wanted to do), they had. but you knew that wasn't their intention so you held no malitious feelings towards them (not that you think you'd ever could).

- but the way you and shinsou so effortlessly opened up to each other, shared intimate details and secrets with each other - it warmed their hearts. so, bakugo grabbed them all by the back of their shirts and dragged them away, mumbling about giving the two of you space. there was a fond look in his eyes as he looked at the two of you he would be teased about later but would deny.

- it was undeniable bakugo held the softest spot for you. he tried as best as he could to include you in their inside jokes and habits but he was. . well . . . bakugo 🧍🏽‍♀️

- words aren't necessarily his strong suit and he could only hope his smaller actions let you know you were as loved and cherished as any of them there. and you knew, you caught on a little after bakugo had a little "secret talk" with the group (that wasn't really secret at all, he grabbed them all by their shirts and dragged them to a secluded spot while you distracted on your phone) and they all started to explain their jokes and include you in their habits.

- anyways, back to you and shinsou. 🤪 he was aware you were in a ployamorous relationship with the bakusquad and he's heard the way you talk about them and the soft airy tone of your voice and the starry look in your eyes; and he didn't want to get in between that. the last thing he ever wanted was to ruin your relationship for his own selfish reasons.

- so for the time being, he would be okay with watching you from afar, the sweetness of your love so close for him to taste; yet too far for him to savour.

- as more and more times passed, the bakusquad began to notice the lingering looks you would give shinsou when you passed him in the halls and how he would always be waiting for you outside of your class with your favourite drink before leaving you to go to lunch while he went off and . . . well, you weren't sure what he did during his free time, but he never brought it up so you never figured to ask.

- when you fell asleep the next time you all had a cuddle session in bakugo's room, they all talked about it. talked about your obvious feelings for each other and the possibility of including shinsou in their relationship. they spent hours talking about it and still talked about it even when the moon vanished over the horizon and the sun rose. and, in not very smart fashion, bakugo was tasked to confronting shinsou about their conclusion.

- which - almost as if there were an author behind all of this - didn't go as well as any of them planned.

it was perfect, really. almost as if the universe had been listening to their conversation and aligned itself perfectly for this very moment.

you woke up that morning with a terrible stomach ache and chose to stay back in your dorm after bakugo made you a bowl of soup and threatened you to take your medicine. his classes ended a little earlier than usual and, sending his lover's a nod, made his way over to your class, where, lo and behold, shinsou was standing near the door, the familiar brand of your favourite drink in one hand and his own cold coffee in the other.

bakugo wasn't sure what he was going to say when he reached shinsou. he opted to just speak from the heart over rehearsing lines with the others like they had wanted, besides, what kind of lover would be be if he couldn't even do this for you? but, what he didn't take into consideration, was his emotional constipation and tsundere attidute.

"hey, eye bags!" bakugo called out.

shinsou nearly jumped out of his skin at bakugo's sudden loud voice. he looked over with the same eyes of indifference he normally had, but bakugo could see the slight far in them. not at his brash attitude (shinsou could never be afriad of bakugo and confronting him before the sports fesitval was a perfect example of that) but the fear of ruining your relationship with the bakusquad.

shinsou nodded at bakugo when he got close enough. bakugo stood in front of him, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his pants, "they're sick."

it was a simple enough statement but shinsou blinked, "what?"

"y/n." bakugo stated and rolled his eyes as if the answer had been written on his forehead (and it basically had, shinsou was just a bit shocked at his appearance), "they're sick and mina's staying back with them in their dorm."

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, "oh."

there was an awkward silence as the two boys stood in the vacant hallway. bakugo didn't know what to say and shinsou wasn't sure if he should leave or go visit you for their lunch break.

"i'll go drop this off to them-"

"no." bakugo practically growled, "i'll drop it off. go get eat your lunch or i'll make your face an eye bag."

shinsou flushed a bit in embarrassment. he was overstepping, of course he was. for a minute, having you all to himself for nearly a week straight made him forget about the relationship you were in and this was a smack of reality. you weren't his. you were in a relationship with others, other people who could give you nearly double what he could - everything he couldn't.

handing bakugo the drink, shinsou stalked away to the cafeteria, his cheeks still a light shade of pink. bakugo sighed and knew he most likely made things worse, and he came there originally to make things right.

but fate will work itself out. and what will be, will be.

- so... maybe sending bakugo wasn't the best idea ... 🧍🏽‍♀️

- because now, shinsou started avoiding you. when the two for you worked on your projects together, he would remain mostly silent and only input his opinion when he thought of an idea or needed help putting something together. you had no idea why and you honestly felt a little hurt that he ignored you as easily as breathing.

- you brought this up to your lovers on your weekly cuddle session, knowing they would have brought up your downpour attitude either way. what you didn't notice as your face was burried in denki's sweater were the glares they all were throwing at bakugo.

- "yeah, i wonder what happened..." sero smiled, though obviously strained, as he pet your head and told you shinsou was probably just going through something.

- and it was obvious you were hurt that shinsou had suddenly stopped talking to you because honestly it was kind of hard for you to make friends. a lot of people assumed you thought you were higher than everyone else because you were dating five students from the top hero course, but that obviously is far from the truth.

- anyways, a long time goes by and the two of you still haven't rekindled anything and the squad is getting a bit frustrated because hello??? join our cult lover circle ?????

- so the squad comes up with another solution and this time they don't send bakugo to collect shinsou

- they learned their mistake last time.

- anyways

- so sero goes and gets shinsou and tells him you need him for a little last touch of the project since it was near the due date and you wanted to make sure it was perfect. and shinsou agrees to meet up with you and follows sero.

- sero takes him into an empty classroom and it's pitch black. the windows have been covered with tape and all the lights are off. before he could ask what the hell was going on, the door slams shut and the lights suddenly turn on and shinsou's blinded for a moment.

- and he's met with a very interesting sight.

- mina, kaminari, and kirishima are standing in front of him with sunglasses and hats on, their arms are crossed and they have a blank look on their faces (though he can tell kaminari is about to burst into laughter and nearly does but kirishima jabs him in his side.)

- "uhh..."

- "shut up, eye bags." bakugo calls from behind him. he's leaning against the door with his arms crossed and an obviously pissed off look on his face.

- sero is just standing next to him with a 'sorry pal' kind of smile.

- "what is-"

- "what are your intentions with, y/n?" kaminari shouted suddenly as he slammed his hand on a nearby desk.

- "denki- no." mina pushed him back lightly, "that's not what-"

- "did you not listen last night, sparky?" bakugo rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly.

- kaminari shyly scratched his cheek, "i might have fellen asleep-"

- "he did." sero confirmed, "he drooled on me and everything.

- "I do not drool!!"

- "yes you do, it was like a waterfall, 'ki. "

- "no i don't, right kiri?"

- "well.. only a few drops.."

- "WHAT?! and none of you told me?!"

- "well, y/n kind of made us promise not to tell..."

- "SPEAKING OF Y/N," mina interjected into the conversation, her fingers rubbing at her temples as she wondered when she became the rational one, that was bakugo's job, "why don't we stick to the script, boys."

- kirishima slung an arm over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "sorry, princess."

- "right." sero turned to shinsou and crossed his arms, "you have feelings for them don't you?"

- shinsou tensed. his mind was still trying to comprehend the conversation that happened just a few seconds ago and processing the fact that kaminari drools in his sleep. he wasn't sure how to respond.

- of course he had feelings for you, any rational person who came into contact with you would catch feelings. it was part of your natural charm that seemed to effortlessly draw people in and never let them go. in a matter of minutes, you had simultaneously become his best friend and his closest confidant. often at night he cursed himself for catching feelings for you when things were perfect just the way they were.

- but shinsou couldn't help it. you had treated him like a normal person and weren't apprehensive about his quirk. you gave him a taste of normalcy in his world of anxieties and judgement, and he craved more and more the more time he spent with you.

- so dispte wanting to desparately scream 'yes, i do love her' at the top of his lungs, he looked down at the ground, "no. . . i . . i don't."

- "liar."

- bakugo seethed behind him.

- shoving himself off the wall he was leaning on, bakugo walked closer and closer to shinsou as he spoke, "don't lie. we all see the way you look at them, the way your stupid face lights up with a small smile when they're with you or the airy chuckle you give when they do one of those stupid dances when they make food and-"

- "OK OK I GET IT!" shinsou snapped. mina jumped slightly in kirishima's arms and shinsou sent her a small apologetic look, "you know! I'm in love with them! i've been. . ." he trailed off before collapsing into a chair behind him, his head hanging back and staring into the bright flourescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

- "i've been trying to distance myself from them, to make getting over them easier."

- "they've been hurting, y'know."

- shinsou groaned and hid his face in his hands, "i know. you think i don't see the looks they give me when i avoid them in the halls? it hurts knowing i'm the reason they're in pain."

- "so why are you doing it?"

- "because they have you guys," shinsou sighed as it if we're the most obvious thing in the world, "you all could love them a lot more than i ever could alone. plus, they're so happy with you, i couldn't be the reason to disturb that."

- "you gotta be fucking kidding me." bakugo growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

- kaminari snorted, "i think i just got deja vu."

- "you could say that again," mina sighed, "i'm heading back to the dorms, this is giving me a headache."

- with his arm still slung over her shoulder, kirishima agreed, "yeah, not sure how we didn't see this from the beginning. i'll walk you back, princess."

- shinsou only stared blankly as mina and kirishima left the room with kaminari in tow, complaining about getting some math work done. never in his life did he feel as confused as he did now

- lost. mans was lost..

- someone get him a map and help him please

- they acted as if they hadn't been the ones to literally kidnap him

- only to nonchalantly walk out the door?????

- sero's voice snapped him back to the remaining two people in the room, "you two really are a match made in heaven." sero smiled at him and shinsou felt head rise in his cheeks, whether it be from embarassment or something else, he didn't know.

- "i'll see you two around" and then he left, leaving shinsou alone with bakugo, who had yet to realease the bridge of his nose from his pinch.

- "you're both a pair of dumbasses."

- "i'm offended-"

- "y/n said the same fucking thing when we confronted them."

- shinsou stayed silent.

- "they felt like their presence would ruin the routine we had set a long time ago when we first started our relationship. . . sound familiar?"

- shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and opened his mouth to speak, but bakugo interrupted.

- "shut up, eye bags, i'm not finished."

- "i dIdNt eVEn sAy aNyTHiNg"

- "sure there were some things we had to adjust to include them in our schedule and a whole new bundle of emotions to incorporate into our lives; but the while point of a relationship is to open up slowly and learn to trust the ones you love. and eventually, we all learned to trust them the same way they learned to trust us; but trust isn't something you can learn over night. it's gradual."

- bakugo sighed, how in the hell did he get stuck in this situation again. at the very least no one got injured this time, "what I'm trying to say is, if y/n makes you happy, then we're all willing to let you in our relationship and put our trust in you.

- "will you put your trust in us?"

- how dramatic ˙ ͜ʟ˙

- so

- :) shinsou decides, fuck it. i deserve the good things in life, and he puts his trust in the squad the same way they all put their trust in him.

- and they decided it was a good time to surprise you too and kill two birds with one stone :)

- so you walk in to bakugo's dorm after a long day of school. you were returning from turning in your project with shinsou, and while the teacher had given you many compliments and basically secured your A, you still felt a bit sad knowing it would be the last time you would see shinsou since your schedules didn't collide and you had ended on a . . . confusing note.

- so you were just looking to cuddle with your lovers on a Friday night and wallow away in your sadness.

- when you walked in the group had been piled in their natural spots on bakugo's bed. mina was giggling with kaminari as they scrolled through tiktok, bakugo was reading a book you had reccomend to him a while a go, sero and kirishima were softly play fighting as they laughed and chuckled.

- everything was as it should be

- until you got to where your spot usually was, cradled between bakugo's warm and firm chest and mina's plush thighs and stomach, and it was occupied by someone else.

- everyone stopped what they were doing, as they watched a smile pull at your lips when you recognised the disheveled pruple hair lazily sprawled in your spot. everyone watched with bated breath as they waited for your reaction and small smiles of their own shining through as they watched your interaction.

- you lifted your hand and smacked shinsou's knee that had been raised up slightly as one of his arms lay behind his head and the other fiddled with a bracelet around mina's wrist, and his lips pulled into a lazy smirk of his own as he watched you.

- "get up, fat head, you're in my spot."

- his smirk only grew.

- "do something about it, hero."

see my pinned post to join my taglist (^ム^)

#mha headcanons #my hero academia #imagines #mha #bakugo x reader #mina x reader #sero x reader #kaminari x reader #kirishima x reader #poly bakusquad #bakusquad poly #shinsou x reader #my hero academia imagines #mha x reader #gender neutral reader

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Note

Can you do Getou as a sugar daddy and new professor and the reader as a sugar baby and a teacher at the same university? Also, can you make it that after the reader stays at Getou's house, she is late to the meeting for the "new staff member"?

Job Description: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.1k

tw: NSFW

"You enjoy dinner?" You place the to-go boxes on the counter before turning to your thirty-something sugar daddy, leaning on the counter before he leans in to kiss you deeply.

"I did," you reply, tangling your hands through his hair and pulling back a little. Suguru enjoys having you like this, you think as he hoists you onto the marble top and places himself between your legs. "I had a great time." You pull his tie so he kisses you again, his large hands resting on your exposed knees.

"Maybe I could ask for my dessert now?" he wonders, and you laugh, reaching into the bag.

"I don't think you saved any, daddy..." you whisper, and he bites your bottom lip.

"What do you mean? I have some right here." You squeal with delight when he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, all of the steps from the kitchen to the bed memorized. You've been down this road before, and you know what Suguru desires more than anything is your time and your company. But he also enjoyed feeling your body underneath his for the price of a few fancy dinners, rent, and a new wardrobe. He could afford all of that and more, though.

But he doesn't consider the thousand-dollar price tag on the dress he strips from your body, nor the five hundred dollar shoes. And the hundred-dollar hairdo? Oh, that's gone. Suguru would fuck you so good, you'd forget you'd gotten your hair done at all. You rake your overpriced manicure across his back and toss off his expensive belt and pants, just to see the one thing he didn't have to pay a single cent for: his cock.

You get on your knees and place him in your mouth, and his face goes slack, just like it's supposed to. When you take all of him in your mouth with his dick touching the back of your throat, you think maybe he's gone weak since you last gave him a blowjob (which was two days ago). But then he starts fucking your face, and drool slides down your lips, your throat making noises that you think are somewhat abysmal, but Geto loves hearing them.

"Taking daddy's cock so well..." he breathes, then pulls out of your mouth. "Get up for me, babe. I want to feel you around me." You stand and stretch across the bed, ass up in the air for him to fuck into. There would be no grocery-list making while he fucks you. No, you'd be more concerned about when he'd let you cum all over his sheets.

When he slides between your folds, you moan, and he thrusts into you once, twice, three times before beginning his strokes, pressing into you so hard that his hips smack against your ass. "Fuck," you whisper, angling your hips up so he's rocking right against your g-spot.

"So wet and tight," he moans, leaning back on his knees. "You really know how to make a man weak, huh?"

"It's what you pay for," you retort, and he laughs running a hand down your back and resting in on your hip.

"Sounds like I'm getting my money's worth, then."

_____________________________________________________________

You wake up in Geto's arms and hum softly at the rising sun.

"Mmm; baby, what time is it?" you moan, and Suguru rolls over, looking at the clock.

"It's only nine-twenty."

"Oh..." You close your eyes again, then the memory of the ten o'clock meeting with the new staff pops into your head. "Oh, fuck!" Geto opens his eyes and watches you scramble around the room, gathering your clothes and preparing for a shower.

"What's the rush for?"

"New staff introduction!" you toss back, darting into the shower. "It's an important meeting!"

"Oh, I have one of those, too," you hear him announce while you run soap all over your body. "Should probably get dressed for that."

You two dance around each other after you finish your shower, and you fix your hair as best as you can before dressing in the two-piece suit and throwing on the freshwater pearls Geto gifted to you a month ago. You stop in your haste, adjust Suguru's tie, and press a kiss to his lips before whisking out of the door, tossing your overnight bag and purse into the seat next to you.

You check your appearance multiple times on the way to the school, which - thankfully - isn't too far from Geto's house, and park in your spot before dashing up the stairs to the History department hall. The dean's assistant, Urahime Iori, hands you an agenda for the meeting that you barely glance over before plopping down next to your co-worker, Gojo Satoru.

"Barely on time," he grumbles and you sigh. "Long night with Daddy Warbucks?"

"Very," you whisper, smirking at the man. He wiggles his eyebrows and you try your hardest to contain a chuckle.

"Well, the new Dean of the department isn't here yet, so you're lucky."

"I suppose we'll get started without the new Dean," Urahime murmurs, taking her place at the podium. "Okay, let's start off with some staff celebrations. Mr. Fushiguro just had a son, so let's give him some love. He has some long nights ahead of him." You all clap for him and the man rolls his eyes, grunting nonsense. "And our very own Mr. Gojo presented an award-winning dissertation on the topic of popular Historical Fictions and its... effects on the accuracy of student achievement." Gojo stands as everyone claps for him, bowing his head and waving. "And Ms. L/n sponsored a trip to the--"

The door to the meeting room opens and in walks Geto Suguru, adjusting his suit jacket.

"Ah!" Urahime waves him in. "Our new Dean is here! Everyone, welcome Mr. Geto to our staff!" You stiffen considerably at the sight of your sugar daddy walking through the staff, smiling at Urahime.

"I should start off with the fact that everyone should call me Suguru; you're my equals, not my..." When his eyes land on you, you avoid his gaze and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Not my inferiors. Furthermore, I want there to be open communication between all of us. I'm happy to be here, and I want you to be, too." Everyone oohs and ahhs at Geto's speech, and he takes the empty seat right next to you, to your dismay.

"If I had known we were going to the same meeting, I would have brought you in the Tesla and let everyone get a chance to see you stepping out of my car."

"Um..." you fumble, and he chuckles.

"Meet me in my office after this. I think we have some things to discuss."

#geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jjk smut

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lockefanfic · 3 years

Text

The Girl with the Purple Hair

A/N: No smut here, guys, sorry to disappoint you - just some fluff. I wrote this fic literally four (!) years ago - one of my first k-pop fics and my first non-smut fic. I never reposted it here for some reason, but an ask I received recently got me to re-read it and I remembered how proud I was of it when I wrote it, so here it is. Please don’t judge me :P

---

Purple.

It’s the first word that comes to mind when you see her. And how could it not be, given the color of her hair? It’s not like purple hair is a common thing - not like there are other people in the noisy, crowded bar that have purple hair. In fact, this is probably the first time you’ve seen someone in person with purple hair. Normal people had normal colored hair, like black or brown or blonde. Her hair isn’t some lazy dye job, either, with shades and highlights and a gradient to the violet strands.

You don’t want to be caught staring, and so you steal glances at her every now and then, and every time you look her way, the first thing you notice is the wavy strands of purple as they play about her shoulders, falling lazily down like a waterfall on an alien world, where the water happens to be purple.

Beautiful.

It’s the next word that comes to mind, because were anyone to look just a little past the eye-dazzling color of her hair, they’d find a beautiful face, made with delicate, small features. She is traditionally beautiful in the sense that any man or woman would agree with you if you said “here is an attractive human being.” There is a timelessness, a universality to her beauty. She could have been born a hundred years ago and still be considered pleasing to the eye - purple hair aside, she could be a painting of a woman from a time gone by, dressed up in the fashion of a model from the magazines of today.

There is a playfulness about her features at the moment, as she indulges in conversation with the three other girls at her table. Her three friends are nothing to sneeze at, but she makes them all pale in comparison - part of it is the ridiculous, daring color of her hair, but there is something more than that. She possesses a magnetism, an allure that makes her stand out amongst three girls that, were they anywhere else, would easily be the most attractive girls in the room.

You’re not alone either, sitting as you are with a few of your friends at your own table on the other side of the small bar. It is Friday evening, and as is custom with your co-workers, you all headed to the bar to celebrate another week gone by. But they are currently immersed in a conversation about some work-related topic, some absent co-worker or client (you weren’t really sure anymore) that was frustrating them. Uninterested in the topic, you found your attention drifting, naturally, to the girl with the purple hair.

You notice that she has a certain aloofness about her, a certain detached nature from the conversation her three friends are having, and for a moment you wonder if perhaps she is in the same boat as you - stuck at a bar with friends who are babbling about co-workers or video games or guys or shopping or cars or clothes or those girls in the random k-pop video playing on one of the big screen TVs, when clearly you’d rather be anywhere but there.

The other three girls seem like average girls, typical of the type you’d see at a downtown bar on a Friday night, out to have a good time with friends whilst under the influence of perhaps one too many alcoholic beverages. They are the type that would head to a club after they are sufficiently liquored up at this bar, spend the night dancing, post a group picture on Instagram when the night is at its peak, and then make a post on Facebook about how awesome it was the day after.

But the girl with the purple hair seems different from the other three.

She lets her gaze wander, and for a split second you are afraid again that perhaps she would catch you staring, but thankfully her eyes drift in a direction opposite from you. She lets a small, almost imperceptible sigh escape her lips, and you wonder if perhaps she would rather be somewhere else, perhaps at home on the couch binge watching some random show on Netflix, or playing Overwatch, or indulging in some random artistic pursuit that you didn’t even know existed.

She seems like the type that would play Overwatch. She seems like the type that paints, or makes her own earrings that she sells on Etsy, or likes to watch movies in foreign languages. Maybe she watches them with the subtitles off sometimes, just to see if she can understand what they’re talking about simply from the universality of gestures made by foreign hands and the tones of foreign voices coming from foreign mouths.

The sudden realization that you are framing this random girl in your mind rattles you a bit, and you smile to yourself as you shake your head, as if to rid those stupid, childish thoughts. You didn’t know this girl, not even in the slightest, and it was wrong of you to impose a character, a personality, on someone you knew nothing about.

You play idly with the small glass of whiskey in your hand, watching as the amber brown liquid swirls about. You take a sip and appreciate the warm taste of it in your mouth and down your throat, appreciating the soft burn, the soft warmth it leaves behind.

You take a moment to try to tune back into the conversation your friends are having, but they are knee-deep in a conversation about a Super Nintendo game. You loved vintage games - there was something about the original plastic in your hands, and the classic, blocky pixels on your screen, that made it feel more authentic in the way an emulator on a modern console could never be.

You are about to join in on the conversation, about to tell your friends about some random game you picked up online, when a movement on the other side of the bar catches your attention - the girl in the purple hair is raising a glass. One of her friends is speaking earnestly, it appears, and after finishing her little speech the brunette girl next to her gives her a hug - perhaps it was a toast? Perhaps it is the brunette’s birthday? It probably was. Either way, the girls clink their glasses together, and down their shots in one gulp.

The girl in the purple hair scrunches her face as she forces the strong liquor down her throat. Immediately you think that perhaps it the cutest thing you’d ever witnessed, and you find that a small smile has appeared, unconsciously, on your lips.

The four girls share that wonderful post-shot reaction with each other, complaining about how awesome that small bit of alcohol they just had was. Together three of them tease the orange-haired, thin girl who is struggling with the alcohol and having a coughing fit. They laugh and one of them grabs her phone to take a picture of the poor girl, who, to her credit, is laughing along with them, probably out of embarrassment.

The girl with the purple hair joins in on the fun, saying something that must have been hilarious, for all three of her companions burst out in laughter - including the thin girl struggling with the shot. The girl smiles, and her eyes narrow to thin half-arcs. In that moment she is the picture of happiness and joy.

She says something else to her group - you assume it is her declaring that the next round is on her. She stands, and the girls make way for her to leave their table.

For the first time you get a glimpse of her from head to toe. She is wearing a short, black dress, and what appears to be a grey patterned collared shirt beneath it. The dress is plain and relatively short but not overly so, showing off her long, slender legs without being improper or overly suggestive. It’s an interesting outfit; classy enough to be worn to work, whilst casual enough for a night out with the girls.

Here again she differs from her compatriots, who appear to be dressed in typical club girl outfits, with short tops and skirts, heels and small, glamorous purses and accessories. If ever there was a club girl starter kit, they were perfect models.

But the girl with the purple hair, as you’ve come to see, is a little different from her friends.

You watch as she approaches the bar. There is an elegance in the way she walks, which is admirable considering the alcohol you presume she’s consumed thus far this evening.

Later on, you’ll wonder where your sudden burst of confidence came from. But at that moment, when the girl with the purple hair reaches the bar and tries, unsuccessfully, to flag down the overly busy bartender, you see an opportunity.

Hastily, you mumble something to your friends about grabbing the next round, and step away from the table. Out of the corner of your ear, you hear one of your friends wonder where you’re going, and another say that you still have an almost full pitcher at your table - but they are irrelevant now. Nothing else exists aside from the thirty feet between you and the spot at the bar next to the girl with the purple hair.

Where did this come from, this sudden burst of confidence, this sudden need to get up and go over to this girl to talk to her? Was it the liquor, the liquid confidence coursing through your veins? No. It was the desire, nay, the need to speak to this girl, the need to see if she really was everything you’d built up in your mind. You needed to speak to her, to ask her her name, maybe find out a little about her. Even if she shot you down before you could get a sentence out, well, at least you had tried. You couldn’t bear the thought of wondering what might have been had you not done something.

Ten feet away. You take a deep breath, and ready what you are about to say in your mind. Some comment about her hair? A stupid, corny joke, just to break the ice?

Five feet away. Maybe some witty comment about bad bartenders?

Two feet - and suddenly your thoughts disappear, and your mind goes blank as the girl with the purple hair turns her head and makes eye contact with you. Later you would realize that moment seemed to go on forever. You were hardly the mushy, sentimental type, but you finally understood why the movies slow that moment down, why the soft music plays in the background during those scenes. You wonder if this is what it feels like when someone who will be important in your life looks at you for the first time.

You are relieved, beyond words, to see a smile appear on her lips.

You smile back, although you wonder if perhaps the nervousness coursing throughout every fibre of your being is having an effect on your smile, and if you are actually grimacing oddly at her instead of smiling. But your mouth and lips miraculously follow the orders sent to them by your dazzled mind, because her smile widens a little bit in the way that smiles do when they are returned.

It is just a second, maybe two, of the many billions of seconds in your life, but it felt like an eternity.

You reach the bar, your legs - your wonderful, reliable, stable legs - by some miracle not failing you and delivering you safely to the bar without collapsing due to sheer nervousness. You remember who you are, what you came here to do, and you try to act as casual as your nerves could allow you to. You make a show of trying to flag down the bartender, but he is busy on the other end of the bar catering to some especially loud patrons.

Your mind is racing, trying and failing to remember what it was you were going to say to the girl with the purple hair, your nerves suddenly afire at the mere proximity of the young woman you’d been stealing glances at all night. You were far from inexperienced with the opposite sex, far from being some timid fool when it came to approaching them. But this one was different. This one was special.

Maybe you should just say hi. Start simple, y’know? But dammit, that never works. You needed something witty, something memorable, something that would make her laugh and giggle and think ‘clearly this man’s shirt is made of boyfriend material and I should throw myself into his arms posthaste.’ You don’t get that with hi!. No one gets that with hi. Girls want someone cocky and confident and sure of himself. No one ever just says hi! You know who approaches girls and says hi? Single guys, that’s who! Don’t just say hi!

Dammit! What were you going to say? Your mind races, tries to think back to other times you’d approached girls, tries to remember what you said to them when you were successful. Gah! Your mind fails you, returns only a simple blank slate, as though your mind had put on its hat and jacket, hung up a sign that said “you’re on your own, kid,” and then started to walk home.

You tap your fingers nervously on the bar surface, trying, and perhaps failing, to appear as casual as possible as you stare, blankly, in the general direction of the too-busy bartender as he struggles to pour the correct kinds of alcohol in the correct kinds of glasses in the correct proportions.

Clearly you needed to make some witty comment to break the ice. A small joke, perhaps? A corny one, or a genuinely funny one? What was a good joke… dammit! Damn you, mind, and your vacation time! Perhaps mention something… about… sports! Yes, it was a bar, and there were sports playing on the TVs. Maybe she was a hockey fan? Or soccer? What if she liked one, but not the other? Which sport had the highest proportion of purple haired fans? What if she thought sports were stupid, a male-dominated dick measuring contest that wasn’t worth her time or attention, and she thought less of you for liking them? Dammit!

Maybe you should comment on her hair? Maybe something along the lines of… perhaps… using her hair to get the bartender’s attention? Then segue into how it got your attention. That’s it. Hahahaha, you laugh nervously in your mind’s eye. Then she would say how she was hoping you’d come over to talk to her, and you’d say she was awesome and you’d go on a date the next day and get married a month after that and later you’d have kids and live happily ever-

There is a soft tap on your forearm. You turn, nervously, to the girl with the purple hair, and the sight of her face, her eyes locked on yours, that bright smile once again on her lips, causes your heart to skip a beat like it was a crack on the sidewalk.

The next day, when you’d recovered from the whirlwind of the night’s events, you’d realize that her first words to you, the first sounds you’d hear from her voice, would sound like music. And it was crazy, considering it was just a single syllable, a single word, but someone could have told you that the entirety of Beethoven’s works were held within that syllable, and you’d have believed it.

The girl with the purple hair’s mouth opens, her lips part, a she leans towards you with a soft smile and says:

“...Hi.”

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #male reader #blackpink jisoo #Kim Jisoo #fluff

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migilini · 3 years

Text

Give Me Attention - Charlie Gillespie

summary: Zoomcalls Classes with a bored Charlie

a/n: a/n: Don't quite know what this is but it was stuck in my head so here ya go.

words: 1.5k

warnings: some arguing, cursewords and pure fluff

Requests are open :)

MASTERLIST

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

Most of the time if someone asked how living with Charlie went you answered with ‘great, literally so amazing, he brings a smile to my face every day. And you meant it, at least most of the time. You loved the way he was awake long before you even dare to open your eyes and the fact that because of that there was always a freshly made coffee just waiting for you on the counter. You loved the way that he danced in the kitchen with you while he cooked dinner and the way the bedsheets always smelled like him. Yet, you weren’t gonna lie, especially the first couple of corona moths have taken a little toll on your relationship.

“Charlie, do you have to rehearse your lines in the living room?” you asked irritated, crossing your legs under the kitchen table you currently sat at.

“But here I have the most space to move around. I gotta move around. You also said that we can go over our lines together.” he whined from the living room. At this moment you cursed the fact that you had moved into an apartment with a connected kitchen and living room. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was, especially when you had friends over, but right now it was only trouble.

“I know babe, but I have this essay due tomorrow and I haven't had the chance to start because we’ve been on set and in so many meetings.”

“Then you work somewhere else?”

“This is the only room with a table!” you protested, gesturing to the table your school books, notes and laptop were scattered on.

“You chose to pursue acting and finish your degree!” he shot back, getting worked up over this simple thing. The hurt flashed in your eyes making him instantly regret his words.

“I’m sorry that my education is important to me Charlie and that I wanted to finish my last one and a half years at College.” You stood up and grabbed your things “Have fun running your lines.” Charlie only heard the bedroom door slam shut and winced at the sound.

He knew better than to immediately run after you, so he waited about ten minutes before approaching. He knocked on the door and leaned on the doorframe. “Baby come back out. I’m sorry. It's just...I had a bad day, couldn't remember any of my lines, and even though we live together I feel like we rarely see each other... both so busy with the show and I… I don't know, I let my frustration out on you.”

The door opened and you hugged him tightly “I’m sorry as well. I could've just worn headphones. I’m stressed and let it out on you as well. I’m so sorry.” you muttered into his chest.

Charlie kissed your head and asked, “Can I help you with College stuff?”

Arguments like these happened a lot during the starting months of the pandemic. Both of you stressed and tired, basically working your asses off and still trying to be caring for one another. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows but after a storm of an argument, the clouds faded away and the sun came back out.

During the timespan from April to August, your boyfriend was bored, very bored. There sadly weren't many acting opportunities, there was not much to do in general and the press tour for JATP was scheduled after its release in September. You on the other hand had lots to do with school, participating in online classes, catching up on the material you missed last semester, writing essays and studying.

“Babeee…” he whined and propped his head up behind your laptop screen so just his eyes looked over it. “Watcha doiinn?”

“Pack it up Isabella…” you grinned at him “Currently working on a project due next week and I have a class in five minutes”

“What class?” he popped his head up a bit more, his whole face hovering just slightly in front of you. “Economics.”

“Boooriiing” he dragged out and rolled his eyes “Don’t you wanna do something more fun? Like Wii bowling, cooking, me.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“As tempting as that sounds, I can't, this class is really important...sorry bubbs.” you looked up at him apologetically and pushed your computer glasses up your nose.

“Fine” he sulked, “give me a kiss and I'll leave you alone.”

You smiled and went to lean closer to his face, with one hand he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer. One kiss, two kisses, three kisses later, you tried to pull back. “One more,” he muttered against your lips and you caved.

And he really did leave you alone until you were done with all your classes. But another day meant another day full of classes and work. You quickly build your own little routine. Charlie still woke up earlier than you and greeted you in the kitchen with a smile, a coffee and a kiss. Then he would go on a run and you would start your first couple classes. He would come back, shower, prepper your face with ‘motivation kisses and then try to get your attention for the rest of the day.

“Braid my hair.” he wailed like a little kid and put his head on your lap. You looked down at him for a split second, your hand immediately tangled in his hair.

“That can’t be comfortable for you.” You chuckled and scanned his figure, the side of his right hip on the chair next to you, both arms and legs hanging loosely to the ground, his head on your lap.

“It totally is,” he muttered, barely audible because his face was nuzzled between your crossed legs.

“If you say so bubbs,” you said and tried not to laugh, your fingers playing with some strands of hair.

“Miss Y/LN what is the answer to question 4?” the professor asked you and totally ripped you out of your thoughts. “Oh shit...class.” you cursed and looked over your notes before unmuting yourself “the national bank sir?” you tried but it sounded more like a question than a confident answer.

“I know you're sitting at home and this is a difficult situation for all of us but don’t get distracted. We don't want your grades slipping…” you nodded and shot charlie a quick look. He half layed on your lap for the rest of the day, drawing little patterns on your legs, occasionally he got up to get a glass of water or some notebooks for you.

You liked to say that he annoyed you and sometimes he really did but you mostly found it endearing. But he did know how to distract you.

“I’m gonna work out here alright?” he questioned and put down his weights he took out of a closet in the hall. To focused on your note writing, your professor's voice ringing through the room you only nodded your head and barely looked up.

As your professor started to ramble on and on about a topic that you already had last semester, your eyes started to wander through the room and got stuck on a particular thing. The thing was working out and still looked absolutely delicious, he was currently lifting weights and his cake was on full display for you.

A tone shift of your professor brought you back to the zoom class but it didn't take long for you to be distracted again. After his workout, Charlie showered and was now just casually chilling shirtless on the couch a couple of feet away from you. His new tattoo shining brightly in your direction.

“What is more important than my class Miss Y/LN?” the same teacher that always catches you slacking piped up. Charlie's head shot up and he winked at you. “J-just a bird,” you said shyly, your cheeks heating up.

Not even ten minutes later, there was a movement in the corner of your camera. You tried to ignore it and listen to one of your classmates' presentations.

“You also want a coffee?” Charlie asked you over the counter.

“Yes please.” you shot him a thumbs up.

Whilst the coffee machine was rattling in the background, your classmate finished the presentation and that meant that it was your turn. Time Management was never you and Charlie's strength and so just as you were in the spotlight option of the call, Charlie walked up behind you.

“Char..I-” you tried to stop him.

“Here is your coffee ma love,” he said lovingly, still shirtless by the way, bending down to give you a kiss on your shoulder before placing the cup on your table. You awkwardly froze and stared at the screen in front of you.

“That’s a funny bird.” was all that your professor said while another classmate piped up with a “He’s kinda hot.”

“So uhm…” you chuckled, your cheeks and ears bright red. “I choose this topic because…”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x

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rulerofstars · 3 years

Note

do you write in modern!au? i have an idea about an angst of him confessing/proposing to his s/o but because they were too shocked, he thought he was being rejected and he left them, (cutting their contacts off and such) then they meet again after some time coincidentally and they got to talk about it and his s/o got to finally answer him (sorry if its too long!)

Le quattro Stagioni

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x (Fem) Reader

Genre & Warnings: Modern AU, angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 4,950 words

Angel: I am so sorry this took so long, anon. Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy this one. Play the songs in order upon seeing the little hearts (♡) that I’ll put, but only if you guys want. All the love.

Songs:

Two is Better than One by Boys Like Girls

Back to December by Jake Coco (or TS)

You and Me by Lifehouse

The tepidity of June danced along the slightly cool breeze that blew a few strands of your hair away from your face. Numerous messages from Hanji made your phone go almost crazy and overwhelmed by the bombardment of notifications. Several questions about what would you wear, what time will you go, or should they pick you up.

A sigh escaped your lips upon opening your apartment door, the cold feeling of being alone grazed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine even though it was summer. Walking to your room, you grabbed the makeup pouch on top of the dining table along the way, replying to your friend’s messages.

Tonight is a special one. After five long years, a highschool reunion is initiated and organized by a few of your batchmates, and the venue is at a small garden event place—where everyone experienced their first prom when in third year. Your lips formed a smile upon the memories brought by the sudden reminisce, it was your first everything.

♡

Highschool is a period where people often experience every kind of shit an individual has to go through to enjoy their teenage years. We get drunk, we smoke—well not everyone, but a majority has tried taking one drag and regretting it afterwards, we lie to our parents, we cut classes. It doesn’t always happen to everyone, and not every single person can relate, but the point is, highschool brought us to situations we never knew we could get through. It introduced us to unfamiliar feelings, it gave us the chance to quench the curiosity that formed within the depths of our minds.

It doesn’t always happen to everyone in high school, but in your case, you fell in love.

Being friends with Hanji allowed you to become one with their own circle, too. The ever so responsible Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit—Hanji’s best friend, and you didn’t know if they noticed but there’s something else in the man’s eyes whenever he stares at Hanji, and of course, Levi. . . Every single one of them had their own idiosyncrasies, and it wasn’t hard to get along with them, especially with the man with the jet-black hair and slanted eyes.

As a transferee from another school, you chose to go along their group, because being with them makes you feel at ease. They weren’t intimidating at all, Levi was, at first, but their warmth and how they welcomed you in their circle will never be forgotten by your heart.

Everyone has their own “partner in crime”, except for Erwin who could ace high school on his own, but he did help anyone who needed a hand, and because of his duties as a class president, he doesn’t always have the chance to mingle with you guys. And so every time you had afterschool shenanigans, Mike and Nanaba would have their own little world, Hanji would be blabbering their rants to Moblit, sometimes Erwin too, if he’s not too busy with his responsibilities, and you are often left with Levi. It’s not that you hated it—you never hated it.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked, one day. It was three months after being friends with you when he first held your hand, just because an over-speeding car almost hit you while you were walking your way towards our house. His hand felt nice on yours, and the concern that dwelled in his eyes was enough to make your frail heart dance with the crispy, orange leaves.

It was in the final term of first year when the attraction towards him grew into a little crush and little did you know how he became more fond of you than he did with the others, too.

“Do you want me to get you soup?” The busy cafeteria was filled with hungry students, lunch time only allows you to have your break within an hour. Yes, fuck school, but thank God the canteen wasn’t so far away.

“Yep,” You answered, while waiting outside of the line as you waited for Levi to finish ordering your food while you held his bag, and the utensils.

“Go find us a chair, I’ll come to you.” His bored eyes darted onto yours, nodding his head, insisting that you should go and sit. Hanji and the others found you soon after being separated for a while, they sat anywhere but the seat in front of you. Because, it’s Levi’s spot if it is across yours, and nobody can change that.

The unexpected bond of you and him had grew into a light sense of puppy love, and you really didn’t have a clue about what you were feeling, but it did feel right, he felt right.

“Do you like Levi?” Nanaba interrogated you one time when she and Hanji had a sleepover at your house, and a sleepover isn’t one if you would not talk about crushes and such. Apparently, something is really going on in between her and Mike, and she talked about how it all began in middle school. Hanji, apparently, is too caught up with fictional creatures like Titans, and they spoke about not having time for crushes.

“Yeah, do you like him? Because he liiiikes you,” They teased and you brushed it off, avoiding the question by changing the topic immediately.

“Don’t be silly.” You laughed.

Of course, of course you did.

He is the snowflakes of your winters.

It was the autumn of sophomore, when you first went into Levi’s house, along with your friends, of course. You met his lovely mom who welcomed you warmly and cooked the nicest food you’ve ever tasted outside of your house, and then you met his uncle who acts as if he’s always drunk and calls Levi a little runt.

“Tch,” Kuchel showed you his baby pictures, and you stared at his annoyed face, picturing if he had not cut his long, dark hair. Maybe he could tie it into a manbun? “Mom, stop that.” You laughed, amused how he managed to snatch the album away from the grip of his mother as he ran towards his room while everyone giggled because of his reaction.

“That brat was never the friendly type, we’re glad you were able to adopt him to your group,” Kenny snorted. Behind his harsh words were a sense of gratitude, you knew that Levi’s uncle may appear as harsh at first, but he was kind, and you were pretty sure where Levi got his attitude from.

Kuchel patted the top of your heads before sending you off that day, thanking you for how well you treated Levi, “You take care of my son, okay?” She said, and it might have appeared as usual to others, but not to you. You’d never forget how she looked into your eyes the moment she spoke, as if she was pertaining to you.

What you thought was puppy love had bloomed into something deeper, something stronger, more serious, and bigger than the both of you.

-----

It was the spring of junior year when you first made out. His room was dimly lit, the curtains were closed, his bed was soft, his tongue on yours—and how you wrapped your arms around his neck just to pull him closer to your body.

The seasons flew by quickly, you knew how well your heart and mind begs for him, and he is well aware about how a single touch of you could make him falter. You weren’t dumb, and it wasn’t that hard to figure it out, what was hard was to admit.

“What do you feel about me?” You asked, staring into his eyes and getting lost within the ardor the dwells upon his irises whenever he looks at you. “Do you love me, Levi?”

You would never forget how his ears turned red at that moment, placing soft kisses on your face while holding you in his arms, never ready to let go. “Tch, what do you think?”

“I think you do, too.” You smiled, pressing your lips against his and closing your eyes, feeling his warm breath on your face, his long eye lashes against your skin, and the scent you’ve grown fond of for years.

His eyes trailed to the necklace he gave you at prom, tracing the cold silver chain that rested upon the smoothness of your neck, “Then why’d you ask?”

And he would never forget how your eyes gleamed when he told you that, as if every star in the universe exploded and the smithereens fell onto your face. “I’m right, then?”

“Mhm.”

“I just want to hear you say it,” You pouted, kissing on his forehead and studying the cosmos in his eyes. You have always wondered how his eyes looked so pretty whenever you stare at them, never had you noticed how it only dazzles that way just because he is looking at you.

“I am in love with you.”

And it’s just a matter of time when the both of you realized that “you and me” was meant to be an “us.”

Everyone knew about your relationship when you were in high school, you were a power couple, lowkey but sweet. You never fail to capture almost everyone’s attention whenever you do the slightest things, hold each other’s bags, when you give him your food, when you share food, when you share a smile, most especially when you took every breath away at your first dance in prom. The relationship was private, but it shook everyone’s world. You kept things to the both of you, leaving people extremely curious about it.

The graduation was emotional, almost everyone was crying while they hugged their friends. And tears were flowing from your face, too, while Hanji and the others enveloped you into a group hug.

“I’m going to miss you all, oh my God.” They cried.

“There, there, it’s okay.” Erwin shushed them, earning a glare from your brunette friend.

“Shut up! You’re lucky you’d be going to the same university as Levi and Mike!”

You shook your head at them, spotting your boyfriend and walking towards where he is. A small smile formed on his lips upon seeing you approaching.

“Hey,” You smiled, kissing his cheek. Good thing, the lipstick you’ve used is waterproof.

“We made it, huh?” He kissed your forehead, and seldom are the times that he is willing to be affectionate in public. You closed your eyes for a while and caressed his cheek gently.

“We did,” You grinned, reaching out to his palm and intertwining your fingers together. “Hold my hand?”

He let out a light chuckle, and you swore, you fell in love a bit more. “Always.”

While you are the flowers of his spring.

♡

Just like how high school was, college flew by quickly. After years of being emotionally, physically, and mentally drained, you couldn’t believe how you managed to reach the last year of suffering. You wouldn’t lie, but the pressure and the amount of knowledge you’ve compressed into your brain made you doubt yourself. The path towards reality was extremely horrifying, and you felt like you couldn’t take it. You doubted your own capabilities to the point wherein you almost didn’t believe in yourself anymore.

It was the winter of senior year when Levi asked you one question that almost made your heart stop.

The snow fell from the empyrean that day, the heater felt useless because of the extreme cold that crept upon the spaces of your apartment. Your boyfriend was there while you burned your eyebrows trying to work on your final requirement.

You wouldn’t lie if you would say that the stress that had been introduced to the both of you didn’t put a space between him and you. Numerous quarrels have made you stronger, but this. . . it was as if you’re aware that you are drifting apart, and you weren’t doing anything about it, and fuck how it scared you. You wouldn’t lie if you were to say that the love wasn’t as warm as it used to, it wasn’t as fluttery as before, and you understood that it could be because of college. But the thought of letting go of the man that you love just because you are so damn scared of opening up teared your heart to pieces, and so you made your mind.

“C-can we talk?” You asked, approaching Levi who sat on your couch while scrolling through his phone. He nodded, standing up and following you to the dining table where all of your papers and laptop sat, while you shivered underneath the sweater that you stole from him.

“I have to tell you something,” Your hands gripped the hem of the sweater tight, while your boyfriend lean against the backrest of the chair.

“Yeah, me too.” The coldness of his voice added to the ice that formed because of the freezing weather. Was he this cold or were you not used to anymore?

“I-”

“Marry me.”

The ice struck your core like a billow enraged with fury and no mercy. You couldn’t speak nor react as your stared at him while time remained suspended in the frost. Your mind could not process his question, and confusion glazed your eyes while your heart pounded like crazy. The grip of your hand against the hem of the sweater weakened while you couldn’t believe what you just heard.

You thought he’s calling it off. You thought he was going to break up with you, you fucking thought you were done. But you are so taken aback that you can’t even talk. You sat frozen until seconds turned into minutes. You were sandwiched in the conundrum of stress, pressure, anxiety, and doubt.

“I see,” The words that left his mouth struck you in a different way as you watched his body walk out of your apartment. You wanted to scream, to punch yourself, to hurt yourself for not being able to function. You are trembling, but not because of the cold. A part of your soul shivered upon trying to understand what just happened.

“O-oh, my God.” You whispered, rushing outside without even bothering to put on more clothing. Winter’s kiss felt like a ghost on your skin as you sat in the middle of your snow-coated staircase, seeing how he had already gone.

Trepidation slowly crushed your heart as hot tears trickled from your eyes, down your face. Realization crept in the depths of your system as you understood that what caused you to be terrified never involved anything about the future, you’re not crying because he left, because whenever he does, he always comes back to you. What scared you the most, was how he felt before leaving. It felt like goodbye.

-----

The summer dress fitted your body perfectly, putting on a small smile while staring at yourself in the mirror. After some time, you finally finished getting ready. Pink stained your juicy lips, and you topped it off with a gloss. A spritz of perfume, earrings, mascara, everything felt like complete but deep inside, you knew that something was missing.

Your eyes darted on your neck, that is why, feeling nothing around your neck was weird, because you were so used to wearing the necklace that he gave you back when you were in high school. Sighing, you found yourself opening one of your drawers and taking out the necklace once again, you never threw it away, how could you? You just stopped wearing it. Cold and pretty, it sat on your skin. It never looked weary despite how old it was, because you took good care of it. You took good care of the presents Levi gave you.

Memories of how you broke down and how Hanji and Nanaba hugged you so tight while you sat in the middle of Levi’s empty apartment tore a piece of your heart once again. How you begged Erwin and Mike to help you with finding Levi, but they were clueless, too. It hurt so much, he left without a word, cut everything off, he was gone in the wind, and never in your life had you been so confused, so hurt, desperate for answers, desperate for chances.

Before thoughts of him could fill your mind, you forced yourself to think of something else. It has been six months since then, but you would be lying if you were to say that you don’t miss him. Because in reality, you fucking do.

A doorbell woke you out of your daze, “Coming!” You shouted, double-checking everything before heading out the door. Various thoughts filled your mind upon seeing the staircase that was once buried in deep, white, snow.

“Come in, girl!” Nanaba shouted from the backseat, and you smiled upon seeing their bright faces. In the front was Mike, and Moblit’s in the passenger seat, Hanji and Nanaba sat next to each other in the backseat, squishing you in a tight hug once you got in. You missed this so much, it has been so long. You never imagined that you could cherish a friendship like this, one that could last long. One that is worthwhile.

The garden is filled with various decorations inspired by the summer. Flowers of different kinds greeted your vision, every decoration turned the same, old, and boring venue into a decent one. You smiled at every familiar face you’ve encountered with, grinning awkwardly whenever they asked you about Levi, and your heart ache. You sought for answers, and they were never given to you.

“Where’s Erwin?” You were curious about the blonde man’s whereabouts, he’s probably busy with work. He immediately got into a company after graduating. You were in their graduation, and Levi wasn’t there. Thoughts of how you panicked that day filled your mind once again, how you cried to Erwin and Mike, telling them how you’ve ruined Levi’s life. But they were comforting, telling you how the man could have transferred when in the final semester in the last minute. Still, everything’s just a possibility, you didn’t know.

Hanji scrolled through their phone, “Probably late because he’s busy,” They answered, looking at you to check if you are okay. Their hand caressed the exposed skin of your shoulder, sending comforting warmth to fight against the cold of the night. “I’m sorry if everyone’s asking about. . .” They trailed off, and you smiled at them, assuring them that it is okay, even though it’s not. How the fuck will it be okay?

Nanaba hugged you from the side while you were sitting, you leaned your head against their shoulder, letting a few tears fall from your pretty eyes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just how they knew you. . .” She whispered, caressing your back, “You’re (Y/N) of Levi.” A bitter laugh escaped your mouth as you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” You giggled, forcing the tears to stop. Mike handed you a glass of water that he fetched from the mobile bar, and you thanked him, carefully drinking from the cup. “Thank you, for being with me.”

“Always.”

Everyone had fun with games and such, the food was great, you had to go back to the buffet table two times, not minding your diet for the night. It was in the middle of the program when Erwin came, nodding at the men and hugging you girls.

“What did I miss?”

“Everything, dude. Where the fuck did you came from? Narnia?”

The spotlight is suddenly on Erwin, shocking the man who is currently eating the food Moblit got for him while he was gone, the Microphone person, Oluo, decided to interrogate Erwin, being the class valedictorian of your batch. People laughed when he was forced to take one shot of pure tequila before making a short speech first. You weren’t sure if Erwin was one of those who organized the event, but he did told you that he was added into a groupchat by a person from another section—you think Nile was the name.

Erwin was indeed, super late when you realized that it is time to for the most fun part of every prom you had in high school—the party portion. The man ate first before he joined your group’s rowdy-ass partying, you had fun as if you were back in your teenage years, except, you had unlimited alcohol this time. You’re pretty sure that either Hanji or Mike would come home late because those two doesn’t know the word limit.

Amidst the part where everyone’s being wild, from disco music to cheesy ones that you actually danced to when you were. . .

♡

A few couples filled the dancefloor, as others went to the mobile bar, ready to get drunk. It was one of your favorite love songs which played, as if it’s mocking you for not having your long-time partner. It’s mocking you for being single, fuck, you don’t even know if you are single or not.

Your boys formed a circle, they always do this every time a sweet song plays from the blasting speakers, mimicking a cotilion, but jumping to the part where everyone switches partners by forming a circle. You get partnered with Mike first, making funny faces to him like how you used to when you were young, and as he twirled you around, you found your self in the gentleman’s arms—Moblit, he told you how pretty you looked as he let you spin, passing you onto Erwin.

His eyes darted on the necklace on your neck, smiling upon the sight of the familiar jewelry, “You look beautiful tonight,” He told you, swaying you along the rhythm of the music. Your lips formed a slight smile, knowing that the reason of his stare is because of the necklace. “Don’t even think about teasing me, Erwin I swear I’ll punch-”

“Woah, easy there, I won’t do that to you.” He laughs at your glare, this man is probably drunk, you thought. While the two never knew their limits, Erwin’s a fucking weakling when it comes to alcohol. He twirled you around with so much force that you ended up not being catched by Mike and so you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the impact, but you didn’t fall.

Warm hands caught your frail body, whoever it was wrapped their hands around you, and between the the searing touches of this stranger, you felt yourself froze, feeling the familiarity of the unfamiliar touch. The clean, musk scent that had you enticed and whipped for years is recognized by your system.

There’s something about you now. . .

His warm hands embraced you like he used to while you get lost within the music that you first danced to.

I can’t quite figure out.

“I missed you.” He whispered, and you couldn’t open your eyes. You buried your faces within his chest, and how you also fucking missed it.

While various emotions filled your core, the tears that failed to escape your eyes before the party started, found their way back into your tear ducts. You didn’t know what to feel, how to feel, what to think, you are once again clueless while you let yourself drown within his touch.

Everything she does is beautiful.

But one thing is for sure.

Everything she does is right.

You are glad that he’s back.

He is the chill that makes you shiver when autumn comes by.

“F-fuck you. . .” You cried, sobbing onto his shirt and gripping onto the fabric. Levi’s hands caressed your back, pressing you closer, harder onto his chest. Fury crept upon every crevice of your heart, but you can��t let him go, you’re scared to let him go.

The love that you have for this man is so tremendous, that you can’t stand to hate him. Slowly, you felt yourself being pulled away from the crowd of dancing couples, distance made the music sound so soft, and the only sound that blasted you to bits was the sound of your heart beats with his.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you, how dare you—how fucking dare you!” Your fists came in contact with his hard chest, the feelings you have kept to yourself for six fucking months blasted like a waterfall. The force was too much, and you let yourself get carried out. Just this once.

His soft eyes never left your tipsy state, you were perfect. Still perfect.

Levi gladly took every punch you threw, every curse you spat, every slap you gave, because nothing could ever deny the fact that he deserved it. He was so fucking dumb, as Erwin and Mike told him.

“Leaving after proposing? Are you a sick fuck? Who does that?”

He received words from his friends after knowing what happened between the both of you. Curses, advices from Erwin, words from Hanji, the disapproval of Moblit, Mike’s punches, Nanaba’s disbelief.

“How d-dare you leave me! Y-you told me you won’t leave me. Fuck you, I-I love you. . .why did you leave me. . . Y-you know that I hate it when you leave me.” You sobbed, not knowing if you should continue hurting him or if you should go and hug him.

Levi’s lips pressed softly against your forehead, holding you tight, under the unforgiving solstice of the night.

“I almost failed my major. . .” He whispers, hugging the vulnerable you, while he buried half of his face onto the crook of your neck. And fuck, how he had missed this, how he fucking missed everything about you. “I never told you, because I know how anxious you were. . . I don’t want to become a burden.”

Your breathing was unsteady as you choked on words you could never say because of what he just said, your grip on his shirt tightened as you felt more tears streaming down your pretty face.

“I felt us drifting apart. . .and fuck, it scared me, (Y/N),” He paused, breathing deeply and running his fingers through your hair. “And when you asked if we could talk, I thought you wanted us done. So I asked you to marry me.”

His warm hands found their way to caress your tear-soaked face as he brought his face closer to yours, staring deeply into your eyes. “And I really wanted to marry you, baby. Fuck, I even had the shitty ring with me that time. . .” He gulped, biting his lip upon seeing the pain in your eyes. He could feel how fast your heart beats, he could feel the ache you’ve gone through for six months. “But I freaked out, And I really thought I. . . I already lost you.” He closed his eyes, he couldn’t bare seeing you cry because of him again.

“Erwin told me that I don’t deserve you, and I realized that really fucking don’t.” The cold wind kissed your skin, contrasting the heat that his body radiates. Steel grey eyes you have fell in love with years ago and until now darted on the silver necklace that sat pretty on your skin, and how it made his heart pound faster that it does. “But I am in love with you. . . The six fucking months, I’ve spent all of it trying to make myself a better man for you.”

His eyes, the gloss that reflected the beauty of the moon stared into yours once again. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the way his eyes look more pretty whenever you stare at him, because it has been a while since he last saw you.

“And whatever decision you are going to make, I will accept.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss on your tear-stained face once again. “I am in love with you.” A small smile formed on his lips, as if he was already assuming that you’d leave him, and you hated that smile, you hated everything.

As if you fucking could.

“Marry me.” You muttered.

Gone was the fragility that dwelled upon your starry eyes, every doubt, every question, every ounce of fear that once settled deep inside your heart vanished along every meteor that crashed into the abyss of nothingness. Gone was the hate, gone was everything else except for the both of you.

‘Cause it’s you and me, and all of the people, and I don’t know why, I can’t keep my eyes off of you.

He nodded at you, speechless upon your sudden question. And he knew that this is right, he is sure. He is sure of you.

“I’m sorry.” His kisses sent butterflies and made you grew flowers on every inch of your body as he carefully slipped a ring on your ring finger. “I will make it up to you.” His words are coated with finality, and your heavy-lidded eyes felt warm once again, his slender fingers wiped the corner of your eyes before the tears could stain your face once more.

“D-don’t you leave me again.” You choked, admiring the ring that he got you. It fitted perfectly on your finger, just like how your hand fits perfectly with his.

“I’ll stay with you, always.”

“I never stopped loving you, Levi.” Your soft voice was melody to his ears, as the summer night reminded you both of how everything started. How you first met, how you first held hands, how you slowly fell in love, how you first made love, how you both thanked the cosmos for leading you to each other’s arms.

“I’ll never not love you.”

And you will always be the warmth that completes his every summer.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #aot #snk #levi imagine #levi aot #levi angst #levi fluff #rulerofstars

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 24 - If You Want Me...

Masterlist; Chapter 23

Summary: Tension reaches its boiling point when you overhear an unfortunate conversation. With unexpected allies, you attempt to break the impasse once and for all.

Warnings: ANGST (still but... well you’ll see ;)); at few points R! is being a little dramatic which can be triggering if you’ve been dealing with intrusive thoughts (nothing too bad though); swearing.

Author’s Notes: Finally! It’s been a wild ride... and god am I happy i’ve managed. This part took a lot of effort but I quite like what I came up with... even if sometimes it gets too angsty. Can’t wait for what’s coming next, however... :)))) Hope you enjoy and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

The shooting range on the icebreaker was a strange place. It occupied a large proportion of the deck floor in the accommodation part of the ship, next to the turnstile and sparring grounds. With darkness swallowing every corner that was not lit up by the blinking fluorescents, it was a perfect place to hide. Soon it became your go-to solace when things got difficult, and the only other idea you could come up with involved going outside without the oxygen mask attached. You did not want to go that far. Yet. Target practice became your favourite occupation. It was simple and did not involve talking to people that could give you worrying looks or comment on the dark circles underneath your eyes. Sleep was no longer a thing, with you catching three-hour-long naps at best, in between never-ending worrying and staring at the ceiling, reminiscing the past. The constant headaches were something you soldiered through, accepting them as a part of reality. The worst part of that new life was the fact that you and Neil stopped talking to each other altogether. Not even empty pleasantries could get through the stone-cold awkwardness and tension capable of killing you before the heartache would. After a day of near-misses and horrifying mistakes that culminated with you accidentally spilling boiling water all over the sweater when Neil entered the galley, you both mastered the art of hiding. You only saw him once afterwards, sitting at the table in the corner of the canteen. That was almost two days ago, and you were thankful.

Once you went through the assigned daily rounds, you moved onto the task of cleaning the guns and rifles. Polishing the metal cases and arranging the bullets was as close to therapy as it could get. With the repetitive action occupying your brain, there was no time to get emotional over things you could not change. Only at the shooting range, you did not feel so utterly hopeless. So terribly unloved. A sudden noise by the airlock made you look up. Conveniently the air in the range was sealed so that you need not to worry about oxygen masks during the target practice. It also meant you got approximately five seconds warning to check the identity of the intruder. This time you were surprised.

“Hi, Y/N. Thought I’d find you here” TP’s dark gaze slid over you cautiously.

Taking off the mask, he joined you at the makeshift table, looking at the arsenal you have spread over the surface. You eyed him with curiosity. That was unexpected. So far, he has never interacted with you outside of the meetings. And every time he did, you could not stop thinking about how much he knew. Who did he see when he looked at you?

“Afternoon” shaking off the reverie, you offered him a tight smile, “Is it afternoon?” glancing at the watch, you grimaced, “Oh,”

The last time you checked, it was 3 pm. The blue numbers on your wrist were mercilessly ticking away. 8:30 pm. How the fuck. TP caught your silent crisis as he asked:

“How long have you been down here?” looking up, you encountered a glimmer of worry in his eyes.

Interesting.

“Umm, five hours?” it felt like the best estimate.

It was probably longer. But he need not know that.

“Jesus,” wincing, he directed his taxing gaze back onto you, “When was the last time you had food?” tone strictly business.

The truth was that you did not remember. With everything falling apart and losing meaning, food became an afterthought. Half the time you would realise you only had one meal around 1 am, forcing you to tiptoe to the kitchen and grab something from the cupboard. A hungry stomach was nothing compared to all the other issues. It could be ignored.

“Breakfast. I’m not hungry though,” brushing off the concern you chose defiance, “Is this an interrogation?” you arched one eyebrow and cocked the gun you have wiped clean.

TP snorted at your comedic timing.

“No, I come here in peace” he raised his hands in defeat and added, “To see if you’re… alright” the hesitation made you scoff.

“You know that I’m not. Because things are generally far from alright,” letting annoyance slip into the sentence, you let go of the tools and met his gaze with coldness.

The deepening frown was concerning. You were being unfair. After all, it was not him who has caused all this pain. Remorse nipped at your heart as you sighed heavily.

“Sorry, that was unnecessary,” he accepted your apologetic smile with a nod, giving the courage to continue, “And I’m also sorry that you all have to witness that mess in the meetings. I’d rather it stayed between him and me... but he seems to disagree” you shrugged.

Sometimes you did wonder why Neil seemed so intent on making your arguments a public spectacle. Whether that was a part of the intricate plan to make you look like an idiot or a result of his emotions boiling over. Not that it mattered. Everyone on the team knew what the deal was anyway. A poor, naïve you, desperately in love with someone who could not care less. Nothing out of the ordinary. Judging by TP’s passing frown, for him too the topic was rather uncomfortable. He took a long moment to respond, looking for answers in the rows of bullets you have arranged on the table.

“Not going to lie, it’s awkward, but at least I know what’s going on, and I can offer to listen” he met your gaze with newly found determination.

Okay… Confiding in TP was quite low on the list of things you expected to have the opportunity of doing. But then so was having to convince Neil not to get himself killed for the sake of the operation. Anything goes.

“Aren’t you taking a side?” that suspicious voice in your head was difficult to get rid of, “Agreeing with him that I’m stupid, emotional, and overall a burden?” you recited the memorized litany of epithets with a stone-cold expression.

The words have lost their meanings after you have put them apart in the quiet of your mind. Now they were just sounds, incapable of inflicting pain. It was the least that could be done.

“He went too far with that” TP winced, his eyes expressing traces of disapproval, “I might not know you well, but you’re none of these things,” a sympathetic smile softening the tone.

An open hand. An olive branch. Why not? Taking a deep breath, you got ready to open up before the most unexpecting of allies.

“In a way, he was right though…” you looked down, trying to find the needed strength, “I am stupid because I have allowed myself to care too much for him” there it is, “And now I’m paying for it” when you met his eyes again, you found nothing but thoughtfulness.

It was something you thought about often as well. The fact that Neil was right, you did care, and that it was perhaps the reason for your demise. But who could blame you for falling for the bastard looking like the devil? And equally charming too.

“Maybe it’s a little too forward, but-” TP’s tentative tone made you grin.

In moments like this, you acutely remembered that he was still a rookie. Not used to the half-truths and strange tenets you accepted as your credo. His innocence was adorable even.

“In this profession, a it’s sometimes nice to say the truth. Shoot away” you waved your hand dismissively, anticipating the question.

There is a first time for everything.

“Fair point” he mirrored your smile before asking, “Do you love him?”

Plain and simple. Ignoring the panic, you took a moment to ponder the answer. It was… obvious. You told Neil as much twice before, and no amount of pretending and lies could ever undo it. The words were his. Just as you were. Unfortunately.

“I’d want to say no, that I got over it, but… Yes, I do,” you offered the answer with a helpless frown, “Think any idiot can see it” noticing a hint of embarrassment briefly you patted TP’s shoulder, “No matter how much he hurts me, I always find myself wishing things could be… like they once were”

Whatever that meant. In truth, you wanted more. You wanted to wake up next to him every morning. You wanted affirmations of love every day as you tasted his coffee-stained lips. You wanted to lie in his embrace, feeling desired and loved. But most of all, you wanted to be able to lace up your fingers with his, following the instincts that became your second nature. To card your fingers through his silky golden strands and to give him everything he would desire. You wanted to be his. He was supposed to be yours. Or was the universe wrong?

Thoughts of that kind could be lethal. Shaking yourself awake, you met TP’s eyes. Apart from the lack of surprise at your admission, you noticed something strange. A passing realization. As though he has heard something similar before but was afraid to speak up. Once again, you found yourself wondering what Neil told him. What did he mean by ‘things you and I should explain to each other’? For a moment, you wanted to jump head in and ask. But what good would knowing the truth be when you could not act on it? As though aware of your increasing dilemma, the man spoke up again.

“I’m sorry for Oslo” your eyes widened at the reminder.

“Why?” blurting out the question, you eyed him cautiously.

The deepening discomfort radiating off him confirmed your assumptions. That was it. He knew what nearly happened that night. And he was flustered about his role in it. That was not the conversation you ever expected to have.

“I can’t help but think that maybe if I hadn’t… interrupted you, it would’ve-” he stumbled over the sentence somewhat endearingly.

Perhaps it was the lack of care that made you say the next words. Or maybe just the fact that nothing mattered anymore, and so who could judge you for the purest form of honesty.

“Doubt it,” interrupting him with a sour smile, you added, “Maybe it’s good you knocked then… Least he doesn’t have absolutely everything” noticing the alarm painted on TP’s face, you blushed.

Yep, too far. Still true, however.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t have to know that much” you brushed off the sudden awkwardness with a sincere apology.

“I can pretend I’ve never heard it” it was his turn to give a reassuring shoulder squeeze.

You could feel the strange companionship forming. Sure you did not mind. Relaxing back in the chair, you spoke up:

“Thanks,” as TP also visibly reclined, you brought up the thought that was not letting go of your mind, “I don’t know how much he has told you about… this,” gesturing vaguely, you bit your lip.

Somehow you knew that he would not betray Neil by sharing with you everything that has been said. But even crumbs would do…

“Quite a bit,” you watched him closely, intrigued by the hesitation, “Enough for me to know that you’re someone I can trust and that he had reasons to be acting that happy in Tallinn before the action” oh.

That painful pang in your heart was heart to ignore. You winced, feeling the steady gaze fixed on your face. The analysis was mutual. Neil, happy, back in Tallinn. Because of you. You have lost too much.

“What do you mean?” treading carefully, you asked the safest of questions.

A small smile on his face showed you just how obvious you were. Lovesick idiot.

“Hours he has spent texting someone, phone calls he would pick up instantly and then come back grinning like a madman” TP offered you examples with a glimmer in his eyes “It only clicked when we were inverting, and I asked him about you” the blush on your cheeks deepened under his taxing gaze “Suddenly all of that made sense if you were in Estonia with us” he shrugged, finishing the thought.

Oh my god. While you experienced it all firsthand during those chaotic yet hopeful days in the safehouse when everything seemed to have infinite potential, hearing about it from someone else’s perspective felt strange. Almost like a slap in the face. Because it only confirmed what you knew – he once loved you. Once.

“Well, it seems like he has changed his mind…” you muttered, feeling the resentment settle in.

You wondered whether one day it would stop hurting. If you could ever get over this and find someone else. That darkest part of your brain knew the answer well enough. Nothing could come close. And nothing ever would.

“Or he’s just an idiot” the cheeriness felt forced.

But judging by the way TP was staring at you, you could tell it was his attempt at dispersing the sudden melancholy. It was strange to see him worried about you of all people. Perhaps your shit attempts at diverting everyone’s attention from your declining mentality were failing. And that was a reason to be concerned.

“That too,” plastering on an unconvincing smile, you stifled a yawn.

That caught his attention.

“You should get some rest” upon further thought, he added, “And food,”

The intensity of his look was stifling. You hated being the centre of attention. Especially in moments like this when you felt vulnerable, an object of pity and unease. Stupid, weak, and useless. The sabotaging voice came out in full force, making you want nothing but to curl up in bed and disappear. Not yet, however.

“Yes, sir” you raised your hand in mock salute.

Your face fell when instead of a laugh, you got a frown in response. Oopsie.

“I’m serious” TP seemed to consider something quickly before placing his hand on your forearm, “I’m… I’ve been a little worried about you” he met your eyes with a clear purpose.

Shit. That is exactly what you wanted to avoid. Being seen as pathetic and a burden. Internally, you cursed yourself for not being strong enough. For letting anyone see the cracks. You would not let them see you shatter into pieces.

“I’m doing fine,” mustering the happiest of grins, you tried to mask the urgency.

Please buy the bullshit.

“Are you?” he didn’t. Before your brain could fully arrive at the panic station, his inquisitive expression softened. You held his gaze for a beat, hoping to convey everything. Hoping to convince him to let the conversation go. It worked for TP gave a final taxing look before backing off. You exhaled slowly, relaxing a little. Maybe the worst was over…

“Before we go… there’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about…” TP changed the subject, looking down at the table “The lock. You want to go with him”

It was not exactly a question, yet you knew he expected an answer. That one you could easily give him. It was obvious, even if you have never said it out loud. Up till now.

“Yes... Maybe it is an impulsive and stupid thing to do, but I can’t let him do it alone. I can’t let him get killed” the word felt foreign in your mouth.

As though ‘Neil’ and ‘death’ were two irrelevant concepts that did not fit together even in theory. They could not. You would not allow it. And you were willing to accept the worst of risks to make sure it would not happen. Hell, you would even fight against fate and time to assure that.

“I’d rather avoid that too” TP’s quiet comment made you look up, “He deserves so much more than…” there was something startling in his gaze.

As though he has stopped himself before saying too much. Much more than what? And why was he looking at you like that? Like you were missing something tragic, and his heart was breaking for your loss. You felt like going insane. TP cleared his throat awkwardly, resuming the conversation, not at all fluently:

“I don’t buy the whole ‘what’s happened, happened’. What does that even mean?” the irritation shining through his strange tone was distracting.

“Don’t ask me,” you shrugged, “I like to think there’s a different solution to this. One that doesn’t involve Neil sacrificing himself. And I need to be there with him because if it comes to it… I’d take that bullet for him” you did not know where the honesty came from.

Or why you would admit something that fundamental to TP. His response was just as anticipated – a gasp and widened eyes. Nibbling on your lower lip, you broke the eye contact and chose to stare at the forgotten gun lying on the table. It was the truth, so why did admitting it feel so… radical?

“Are you sure?” when he found his voice again, it was hoarse.

“It’s that kind of love,” you replied, still unable to meet his gaze.

You never expected to reveal yourself like that to TP. Wheeler? Maybe. Even Kat seemed like a probable option, but not the boss himself. And especially not at this stage of his story. Yet he was there, willing to listen, and that was enough. You would deal with the consequences later, in your mind that would undoubtedly rebel against such a display of fragility.

“I don’t want it to sound patronizing… but you’re still young. There might be someone else for you along the line if Neil-” his voice broke through your reverie as you interrupted him with a start.

“I know” finally, you raised your head again, showing the sincerity of expression, “But something tells me it’s him or nothing. Call it fate or insanity” biting back a dry chuckle, you felt a single tear form in the corner of your eye.

That was something you have spent most of the time thinking about. At the start, you desperately wanted to believe that you would get over this. That it was just another disappointment, and like before, eventually you would forget about those blue eyes and maniacal grin. But your heart knew better, constantly reminding you that it was not that simple. That Neil was not someone you just forget. Because how could you?

“Reality?” TP’s eyes were filled with thoughtfulness.

“Perhaps,” you cracked a smile, feeling heaviness in your heart lift by an inch.

Always something. Another yawn ended the delicate moment seconds later, making you scowl in annoyance. What was the point of tiredness when you could not even rest properly? TP laughed at your pained expression and got up:

“Now, you into the kitchen. And try to get some sleep” he offered you a hand which you took and stood up.

“I’ll try” a lie, “Thank you… for checking in and listening” sheepishly, you tried to find any words of gratitude.

“I owed you that after those hours in Oslo, filled with plans, coffees, and awful songs you’d sing to entertain us” the knowing smirk suggested that he did remember what you hoped would be forever forgotten.

MTV in Norwegian. Your knackered brain deciding that singing along to ‘Like a Virgin’ and ABBA was what had to be done to make everyone smile. Mistakes have been made.

“Don’t remind me,” TP laughed as you smacked him on the shoulder.

*** You did not sleep after you bid goodbye to TP. That night too was spent tossing and turning in bed, thinking about how everything could have crumbled so quickly. It has only been weeks since Tallinn. In fact, looking from the linear point of view, it has not even happened yet. The normal you have been enjoying the confusion of those days before Oslo when everything was difficult yet hopeful. Too good to be true, at times. Well, now you knew that those moments never lasted too long.

The next morning you quickly grabbed breakfast and sneaked into the sparring area, hoping to catch a few minutes with the punching bag before the troops would take over space. However, that day it was not meant to be.

You heard the voices as soon as you opened the airlock and entered the large room. It was divided into a few sections, each devoted to a different training exercise. To your advantage, each was also separated with a thin plastic screen. Cautiously, you approached the nearest divider, trying to determine whether your mind was not playing any tricks. After one second, you knew. TP and Neil were having a rather heated conversation on the other side of the screen. A sparring ground was the place you least expected to encounter them. And yet… You wanted to turn away and leave before more damage could be done, but the moment you heard the boss’s voice, you froze on the spot:

“Why are you so hard on her?” TP’s question rung out clear in the highly domed room “The only crime she has committed was falling in love with you. I don’t think that’s worth all that pain you’re inflicting”

There was no doubt as to who he meant. Your heart sank. Oh my god. On one hand, it was encouraging to know someone was fighting for your side and pointing out the unnecessary torture Neil was so keen on. But the fact that they were discussing the nature of your feelings was terrifying. Listening on felt wrong, yet you could not move away.

“It would be better for her if she hadn’t” Neil’s cold tone made your blood turn to ice.

There was something frightening in how distant he sounded. As though he was nothing like the man you fell in love with, only a cold impostor that borrowed his face and voice. He was right.

“Why? You told me that you love-” TP’s voice rose, incredulity tinging every single word.

Neil told him his feelings. You expected that, and it still felt like a punch. You leaned on the wall for support.

“It doesn’t matter what I said” the biting edge to Neil’s voice was new, “Or how I feel. The sooner she gets over it, the better for all of us” he threw it without caution, as though he was done with your bullshit.

With the fact that you were stupid enough to love him. He did not want your love. Never did. The crushing weight on your chest would not give way.

“You’re cruel” TP was surprised, as though he could not believe what he was hearing.

“That’s mercy” Neil was begging for the conversation to be over, “Cruelty would be letting her entertain the idea that we can...” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Christ. All those nights spent wishing for answers, and when they came you wanted to forget you ever heard it. It was foolish to believe anything could ever happen between you.

“But why? Neil, you are in love with her” TP raised his voice yet again, utterly done with whatever the blonde bastard was doing.

You could not care less. Nothing mattered anymore. But you did not expect the very next punch. Or the pain you would feel.

“I’m not” clear-cut rejection; nothing to interpret “I don’t love her. There’s no need to look at me like I’m a monster”

Enough. You heard enough. The pain was as bad as ever as you walked away. Your mind set on one simple thing - tea. Yes, that would solve it.

*** Going to the galley felt as though you were stuck within a dream you could not shake off. Half-aware of your surroundings, you nearly walked into Dominic, whose survival instincts kept him off your path. Muttering apologies, you undid the zip lock and sauntered into the kitchen without a care in the world. With a start, you noticed Kat sat at the table. She gave you a welcoming half-smile as she sipped the tea from the metal cup. Your autopilot stuttered, overwhelmed by the company. Blocking off any attempts at thinking, you followed the muscle memory. Setting the kettle on. Putting teabag into the mug. Earl Grey because it reminded you of those morning kisses in London. No. Wrong memory. You shook your head, waiting for the water to boil. The fridge was too loud, the buzz making thoughts appear. Sighing, you leaned on the counter. Your eyes were burning, the sensation increasing with every single blink. It was alright. So why did it feel like the world was ending?

The kettle switched off. Without sparing a single thought to the reality, you poured the water in, watching with fascination as the teabag floated up. Kat’s spoon let out a clink as she placed it on the edge of the plate. You jumped up, startled. That was enough to break through your carefully woven barrier. The thoughts came rushing in. Neil didn’t love you. Your chest tightened as the next breath came out strained. The air was gone. Your hands shook as you tried to take out the teabag. Fuck. Everything was over. A single gasp was all you could manage before you shattered. The tears fell down your cheeks in a steady stream, blurring everything with tragedy. Choked sobs shook your frame as you desperately tried to hold on. To sanity. To reality. Anything to make the pain go away. But it would not disappear, only getting stronger. As though through the glass, you could hear someone say your name. Voice tinted with worry and urgency. But you did not care. The sobs turned into a howl as you slid down to the floor. The sounds coming from your throat sounded foreign and harsh, tearing at your vocal cords mercilessly. Oh my god. That was the break you always feared. There was no end to tears falling down your cheeks onto the floor and beneath your shirt. Slowly breathing became almost impossible, forcing out those pathetic half sniffles that only made everything worse. You wanted to do something. Anything. To make it stop. To forget. To lose the ability to feel things. Your fingers clawed at nothingness, barely losing against the desire to make all that internal pain physical. By any means necessary. Because then at least you could blame it on something concrete. And not just heartbreak. A word you despised because it sounded weak. Stupid. Easily avoidable for everyone but not you. A lost cause. A failure.

“Hey…” warm fingers gently touched your shoulder.

You raised your head. The pounding headache and lack of oxygen, making everything seem twice as difficult. Kat’s blue eyes bore into yours with concern. You have made quite the show. Self-preservation told you to get up and leave, save yourself some shame. But you would not even know where to go. Or what to do. You did not trust yourself to make reasonable choices.

“Are you alright?” Kat’s voice brought you back to the present moment.

An anchor. Maybe this could work… She was still eyeing you closely, unsure about how to act but wanting to be helpful.

“Mmmm no,” you sent her a broken smile, grateful for the handkerchief she handed, “But it’s okay. Sorry about this. I didn’t mean to-” you gestured vaguely, knowing she would catch on.

Tears were still flowing steady, threatening with dehydration should this continue. But at least the wailing subsided to quiet sobs interrupting your sentence every few words.

“Don’t apologise, we all break sometimes,” Kat squeezed your shoulder, joining you on the floor, “Do you want to talk about it?”

It was tempting. Even if terrifying. But you felt like maybe she could be the listener you needed. Someone objective enough, without any ties to Neil or you. Someone safe to confide in that would keep your secrets in safekeeping. But…

“What if someone comes in?” grasping the most idiotic of excuses, you glanced at the airlock with apprehension.

You could just about imagine what would have happened should Neil walk in during your conversation. Your heart would not take it.

“We’ll just tell them to leave,” Kat’s cheeky tone made you turn to her, “I think they’re all a little afraid of me for some reason,” she added, with a small smirk.

She crossed her long legs and sat next to you with both your backs supported by the cupboard doors.

“As they should be,” you replied, feeling strangely at ease, considering everything.

That spark in her eyes was worth the stress over being too forward for someone you barely knew.

“So…” she nudged you with her shoulder as further encouragement.

There was no more escaping it. You took a deep breath, urging your heart to stay strong. Words started spilling out without sense or order.

“Is just... the world is potentially ending in a few days, and here I am crying over the fact that someone doesn’t love me” your throat contracted upon the word as though it was forbidden “I should’ve known better. He never could want someone like me because why would he” more tears as you realised the ultimate truth “I’m not extraordinary. It all feels so stupid, pathetic. But I can’t get over it because I still love him. And I don’t know how to stop” you finished the rant on a sob that forced you to cover your face with your hands.

There it was. Out in the open. You wondered how you could have ever been naïve enough to think your feelings could be reciprocated. For him, it was just a crush. Amplified by the troubles you had to face and the recent difficulties. Nothing more. You were conveniently there when he needed someone to lean on. But if it came to it, he would never choose you.

“It’s about Neil, isn’t it?” something in her voice made you meet her gaze.

You were that obvious, huh? A panicked thought convinced you that everyone on the bloody ship knew about your weakness for the blonde bastard. Yes, even that mess sergeant that always gave you a sorry smile when you approached the counter at mealtimes. Before you could spiral down another wretched rabbit hole, you asked the most innocent of questions:

“How do you know?”

There was no point in trying to convince Kat she got it wrong. She seemed to consider something for a moment before she looked at you with newly found resilience:

“Let me tell you a story,”

You quirked your eyebrow, confused and intrigued. Might as well… Nodding at her silent question, you rested your head against the cupboard. Dried tears tinged your chapped lips with salt.

“When we were in Oslo, staying in a hotel for two nights, TP went out, and Neil stayed with me” she set up the scene with a neutral tone, “We talked a lot about everything really. He asked me about Andrei...” you glanced at Kat, noticing a passing grimace, “Normally I would shut off, but there was that calm curiosity about him, and I didn’t mind saying too much” she admitted with a sheepish smile.

You knew the feeling well, always telling Neil too much because he was such an excellent listener. Confiding even the darkest of secrets and thoughts never felt like anything significant when he reacted with that same confidence and acceptance. That was one of the reasons why the fall was unavoidable.

“Neil has that sort of effect on people,” you returned her smile, shrugging slightly.

Kat patted your hand gently, noting the look on your face. The infatuation and yearning you could not get rid of whenever you did as much as spare a thought towards him.

“I can tell... the point is that he mentioned you, as well” your eyes widened as she paused, “His friend, as he referred to you but not without stumbling over the word a little” she grinned upon your struck expression, “He told me about your role in this. That you’re an asset, excellent sharpshooter, brave as hell and equally reckless at times” my god

You blushed, feeling Kat’s taxing gaze. Friend? Suppose that’s one way of introducing you to people. It was fascinating to know that even after the mess of Tallinn, Neil valued your contributions to the mission. That he would mention you to anyone. Favourably, at that.

“Sounds about right,” frowning, you pondered the implications of her words, “So you knew who I was that morning on the bridge?” the sudden realisation felt refreshing.

That explained her looks directed at you and Neil back then. The visible consternation about the matter of your relationship.

“Yes, it clicked pretty quickly” upon your perplexed gaze, she picked up the story, “I could tell that there was more underneath all the praise. There was that longing in his eyes and a spark that lit up only for you,” Kat added, smiling as you gasped, “I asked whether love was allowed in your line of business” there was boldness in her eyes that made your heart clench. Something important was coming, “He said yes, but it’s dangerous and best avoided. Only that’s not always possible. Sometimes it gets you, and before you realise you can’t breathe another word without missing that one essential person. Your heart doesn’t belong to you anymore, and nothing can be done” oh my god.

You stared at the floor as her words sunk in. It felt surreal, as though you have wandered into a dream. A good one. But dreams could only last so long… Shaking off the haze, you glanced at the woman sat next to you. She was observing you with an enigmatic smirk gracing her features.

“He said that?” your voice came out raspy.

Just a clarification. In case you have misunderstood. But Kat was not surprised.

“Yes,” she nodded, that same sympathetic expression on her face, “Considering what I’ve seen with you and him... there’s only one person he could’ve meant” your heart dropped, as though unused to the idea “I understood it that morning on the bridge when despite the awkwardness, he was willing to defy everyone else for your sake”

Your mind wandered back. Neil’s constant presence by your side, his hand touching the small of your back and then staying there for longer than necessary. His support and trust placed in your hands without hesitation. Right now, even something that insignificant felt unattainable. But it did happen. Could it be that he meant you? Unable to withstand the whirlwind of emotions, you stood up. Pacing in the tiny room, a protest came up, spilling out of your mouth:

“But I just heard him tell TP that he doesn’t love me” you swallowed hard as the reminder of the reality hit.

It was one thing to know it. Another to put it into words once again. You felt like screaming, demanding answers from the main culprit of this whole mess. But it was too dangerous. Another heartbreak could be lethal in its consequences.

“Sometimes we lie to ourselves to save the pain” the quiet certainty of Kat’s voice kept you grounded.

It felt risky to believe that he was pushing you away out of fear. But what if… No. You met her inquisitive gaze, hoping to convey the confusion and desperation. She must have understood for she added:

“He’s still coming to check up on me every evening, and the last two days he’s been a little… strange” the meaningful pause felt like bait.

One that you did not hesitate to take.

“How do you mean?” stopping mindless trotting, you sat down on the stool.

“Quiet, wistful, as though something was troubling him, threatening to spill out if he wasn’t too careful” a long taxing look; it sounded familiar, “Trust me, I don’t mean to give you false hope, I just thought you should know that before deciding on any further action” Kat got up and approached you.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, she squeezed it. You felt immensely grateful. Even if a little speechless… Because all of that was a lot to take in. You desperately needed a long afternoon spent in bed, staring at the ceiling and processing the eventful morning. Was it still morning?

“It means a lot, I’m not sure how I could repay you” finding the words again, you gave her a helpless smile.

“Just try to be happy. And don’t give up on things that seem too good to be true. Sometimes those are most worth keeping around” the depth of melancholy in her eyes was startling, “What will you do now?” the tentative tone assured you of the intent behind the question.

It was Kat’s way of saying: don’t do anything stupid. You could not promise that to anyone. The wounds were too fresh; emotions barely kept under control. Anything could happen. But you did not want to alarm her.

“I’m not sure. Think, probably” an unconvincing nonchalance had to do, as unprecedented honesty took voice “But I’m beginning to realise that if I won’t be able to… have him… I’ll just let him be. He deserves the best more than anybody else” you finished the thought and met her eyes.

A passing shock you found there was intriguing. As though your words reminded her of something, and she needed an additional moment to recover. God knows what sort of secrets everybody held on this god-forsaken ship… If the weight of the past and the unsaid could sink boats, it would have been long over. For everyone.

*** You thanked the gods (and Ives) for letting the topic of the lock wait out a little longer. Instead, the next morning’s meeting concerned the splinter unit, the who, and the how. As a result for once, no voice has been raised throughout the two hours spent on the bridge. Nothing much has been decided, but you did not mind. The burden of the last few days rested on your shoulders, preventing sleep or any form of relaxation. The word ‘tired’ did not even begin to describe it. But duties had to be put ahead of any personal issues and so you took part in the confab as usual. Seeing Neil after everything felt like a stab straight in the heart. His silence and the complete lack of acknowledgment of your existence were the added twist of the hilt.

The moment the meeting was over, you bolted out of the door in desperate need of fresh air. It was bound to rain later as the entire deck was covered in strange puddles that formed out of nothing. Perks of inversion and all that. Lost in thoughts concerning the locks, blonde bastards, and the torture of love as a concept and a feeling, you forgot about the golden rule of inverted rainfalls in the making – caution upon stepping on the wet surfaces. Turning around the corner, your foot slipped. Fuck. All you could do was flail your hands helplessly while praying that the fall will not be painful and that it will not detach the oxygen tank. Suffocation was not the death of your choice.

Suddenly the fall was interrupted with a strong grip on your waist. Hands pulling you upright, back to standing. The hold felt familiar. And forbidden. Turning to face the saviour, you were struck by the sight of the blue eyes that haunted your every waking hour. Every dream too. He was close, with hands wrapped around your waist securely. Somehow this felt worse than the fall. You half expected Neil to let go any second now, step away and yell at you for being clumsy. Or maybe just for existing. But he was still there. One of his hands slipped down onto your hip. Speechless, you kept on gazing into his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. All you could see was increasing the confusion. Desire. The boundless depths were drawing you in. Neil pulled you closer. Something in his face made you believe that if it was not for the oxygen masks, he would have kissed you. His gaze roamed across your features, intense, relentless, as though he could never have enough of you. It felt like being stripped bare, left exposed and vulnerable. Despite trying, you were unable to put up a guard, showing him all that he was not supposed to know instead. Everything you tried to hide and deny, bury deep inside so it could be forgotten. Well not anymore… Whatever Neil saw in your eyes woke him up. You noticed a passing frown, replaced with increasing shock. And then horror. What the hell. Before you could even process what happened, he let go and took a hasty step back. He looked sick, pale with fear and panic. Then, just as you tried to find any relevant words, Neil spoke:

“Be more careful next time,” cold and curt as though nothing happened.

He walked off briskly, disappearing into the darkness of the training grounds. What the fuck? A single drop flew up from the deck, splashing onto your chin. The rain has begun. You felt strange. Suddenly mourning the fact that you have been saved from suffocation. It would have been simpler. Less painful. Less terrifying.

*** No matter the hours passing by, or the thousands of different grounding techniques you have attempted, nothing was helping. Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you wanted a multitude of things. To get blackout drunk in the hope of forgetting this morning ever happened. (You checked the galley, utterly disappointed to have found nothing with the necessary voltage). You wanted to talk to someone, briefly considering visiting Kat further down the corridor. But that would have meant being even more vulnerable. And a burden. So nope. At one point, you once again considered marching outside without the mask, letting the inverted lung membranes and fucked up rain do the rest. But you did not want to end the life itself. That was not all that bad. You liked your job, the various people you have met along the way. It was only that the current predicament was… unbearable. There had to be a different option.

Then mindless pacing replaced the stillness of lying down. Window, door, and back again. To be repeated for at least an hour. Your thoughts swirling around everything that has been said. Everything that happened. Kat’s story. The look in Neil’s eyes. What if… what if? The unknowns kept multiplying in your head, driving you insane with the extent of what you did not understand. You always hated those moments of suspense. Unsure whether to give up, let go and try to move on, or to keep trying, hoping. Your heart could never process them well without breaking and shattering into millions of pieces. Fuck.

There was one way out of it. One that you tried to push to the back of your head for the few past hours because it was too terrifying. But you were slowly running out of alternatives. One look out of the window told you that you had spent at least six hours like this. It would not do. It was either him or nothing. But you could not survive the insufferable without knowing which one it was. Taking a deep breath, you stopped in the middle of the cabin. This is it. You knew what had to be done. You put on the sweater as though in a trance, making sure to repeat silly affirmations in the quiet of your mind. It had to be alright. If it wasn’t, there were always the seals left…

The walk down the short corridor felt like ascending the steps to the guillotine. Only whatever might happen could be worse than beheading. Your hand shook as you rapped on the door to Neil’s cabin. The sound felt like the worst mistake you ever made. It was too late to turn back. After a very long moment, you heard shuffling inside. When the door opened, you were shocked by a few observations all at once. Neil’s eyes were reddened, hair in absolute disarray. When he realised that you were the intruder, his hands automatically went to smooth the strands in some way. Making even more mess in the process. In any different situation, you would have found that endearing. But your heart was too heavy. You eyed him instantaneously, gaze slipping over the fitting black thermal shirt and the joggers with narrowed cuffs. Not helpful. As you glanced back at his face, you noticed the intensifying confusion. That was the chance to speak…

“Can I come in?” a tentative start to make him more likely to agree.

The shock in his blue eyes slowly changed into careful curiosity. Neil gave you a once-over before opening the door wider and stepping back.

“Of course. Friends are allowed to visit each other” a hint of impatience as though he already had enough.

But that was not the most infuriating bit…

“Friends?” you crossed the threshold and met his eyes with the face of stone, “Sure, that’s one way of looking at what we are” the lack of reaction was inspiring, “Or were” you took a look around his room.

Equally small cabin, littered with a few personal objects. His was phone abandoned on the bedside table, a change of clothes on the floor. A naïve idiot would have taken a moment to consider the fact that maybe he was not as well as you thought. But you were past that, desperate to get answers. A reaction. An end to this madness. With resolve ever-increasing, you sat down on the edge of Neil’s bed, ready for the battle ahead. Meeting his perplexed gaze, you let the penny drop:

“I wonder with how many friends have you been kissing on the bed for two hours” a flash of recognition and then a frown.

As expected. But it still hurt.

That moment from the afternoon before the morning plane to Tallinn was one you often replayed in those desperate hours when nothing seemed to help. You were lying in bed in your room back in London, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging kisses like compliments every few minutes. Sometimes Neil would let his hands become more daring in their caress, causing goosebumps all over your skin. Bringing out sighs and making your heart overflow with love and hope that you finally found what you have been looking for. You felt wanted. You talked a lot about the future, sharing different ridiculous plans for how it could play out. Neil promised to visit your prospective farm with the sheep and dogs. Back then, judging by the look in his eyes, you dared dream that perhaps he would want to be a part of those days still to come. Now, looking at the blonde man awkwardly perching on the chair in front of you, nothing made sense. He stayed for the night then, allowing you to hug him close until the morning. You woke up first, watching him for a few minutes. The steady rise and fall of his chest. Relaxed face with hair sticking up. Calm and content. The warmth spreading from your heart inspired you to press a kiss to his lips as a means of wake up. The sight of Neil sleepy-eyed, peering up at you with a fond smile gracing his features was worth much. Maybe even the current tortures…

Facing him now, you could see the frown deepen.

“Painful memory?” you countered, watching him closely for any hints.

A mask was put on well. But there were flashes of something there. A potential… A possibility of getting burned too.

“In a way,” Neil grimaced, avoiding your piercing gaze.

He was uncomfortable, mindlessly picking on the skin around his nails and tapping his foot. That was the signal to keep on pushing. Until he would be forced to be honest.

“That’s a shame. It’s one of my favourite ones” as he looked up, you offered a deadpan smile, “Just like Oslo,” a shrug complemented with a quick scan of his body, “Though I’m not sure about that… ending,” feigning thoughtfulness you ended the harsh scrutiny.

The point was to back him up against the wall without making him throw you out. That tiny voice at the back of your head told you that he would have done that already if you were not in any way important. That voice was too confident.

“What is your point?” Neil bit back, betraying the level of annoyance you have brought with the innocent reminder.

You knew there was no more skirting around the issue. Now or never.

“Why did you do that earlier? Why did you hold me like...” you trailed off, unable to put into words what it felt like.

Like what? Like a lover. Like someone you actually cared about and not just an irritation. Like someone you could want in your life. But you could never say that to him.

“I was being a gentleman” Neil glanced at you with painfully fake indifference, “Women tend to appreciate that,” a shrug that could not fool you.

Women. The spark of jealousy burned bright. Because what if you were just another distraction. Nothing special. But then the things he said to Kat suggested otherwise. You held onto that thought and squared your shoulders. The game was on.

“...Right,” a sceptical glance in his direction before you continued, “Was that look gentlemanly too? Because last time I checked, gentlemen didn’t tend to look at women as though they wanted to…” trailing off, you awaited the response.

That would mean he took the bait. And the case was not yet lost.

“What?” the lazy tone made you meet Neil’s gaze.

He looked… off. As though before you knocked, he was not exactly fine. It was that nervousness and unkempt appearance that betrayed him. On its own accord, your heart gave out a painful thump, anticipating the fact that Neil too might have been hurting. But why? Ignoring the distraction, you found the needed words and dropped them carelessly.

“Devour them” you held his gaze confidently.

The verb felt right. As though Neil was not trusting his instincts, he looked down, breaking the contact. Putting up further guards. Bingo. He scoffed, throwing in cruelty to the mix:

“And here I was thinking you’re over… this” a vague hand gesture to show what this meant.

You. And him. That something that both was there and was not. Or rather, he wanted it to cease to exist. Only it was not that easy.

“I never said that” putting on the necessary emphasis, you kept on staring at him until he looked up.

Mouth open for another quip. That same steel-blue eyes and clenched jaw. Whatever you have been doing was working. Slowly aggravating him to the point of discomfort. You had to keep the upper hand. Neil seemed to consider something, restlessly fiddling with a pen he picked up from the bedside table. After a beat, he spoke up:

“Why are you here?” weariness in his eyes as he gave out a long exhale.

Easy question… right?

“Because I want answers” it could not be any simpler.

He flinched, letting you see the extent of panic hidden underneath the annoyance and casualness.

“What makes you think I’ve got them?” an arched eyebrow adding the mocking intonation.

The meter of space between you felt like an ocean. He was close enough for you to brush away the strand that has fallen into his eye if you only leaned in. And yet so far that you felt alone, alienated by the cold scrutiny. You had to keep going, tearing at the carefully build up armour hiding him away from you.

“Because you always have words. An abundance of them” you waited till he looked at you again before pressing on “Be it things you probably wish I have forgotten that you have once whispered between kisses” a pause, noticing the boundless unease in the blue eyes “Or all those lovely adjectives you have given me the last couple of days” using the moment of hesitation, you added, “But maybe you were right, and I am stupid, emotional-”

You could give him the whole litany. Your legacy. Exactly how much you were worth in Neil’s eyes. Unless it was a lie…? Before you could begin, Neil raised his hand, interrupting sharply:

“Okay, I get your point” no pride in that frown, almost as though he regretted it, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that” the apology took you by surprise.

As did the sudden change in his face. Neil held your gaze with unusual sheepishness. As if even the act of looking at you was dangerous. Tearing the skin from his lower lip, he was the epitome of insecurity. There was no time to falter.

“Everything?” you prodded, mindful of the poker face you had to maintain.

You could not lose him now. Neil hesitated for a short moment before responding:

“Yes,” another second of eye contact, and he got up, impatiently touching the doorknob “If this is all you wanted, then I’d rather be alone-”

No. You leaped up, reaching out before he could finish the sentence. As your hand landed on his forearm, his eyes snapped to you in shock. He was not expecting you to breach the touch barrier. But there was no other choice. With heart hammering in your chest, you felt your throat tighten. Please not now…

“No,” emotions exposed in the tiny voice crack, “Neil, I’m tired of this, of you not making any fucking sense and expecting me to accept it” pleading, you let your fingers wrap around his wrist.

That had to do. Judging by the terror in his eyes, it was already too much. You could feel your resolve waning. Terrified of the consequences if this backfired. Of what you would have to do if he rejected you once and for good. Of the pain you would have to face then. But you had to be brave. He swallowed hard. You wondered what caused the goosebumps on his skin.

“If this is about earlier, then you’re blowing it out of proportion. Be more reasonable” there was a raw edge to his voice that was new.

You were close now. Enough to force Neil to stare at the ground to avoid looking at you. You noticed those dark circles under his eyes. And the tension spilling out in waves. He was scared of you. And that was a horrifying discovery. Your eyes were burning as you begged your heart to hold on. You had to survive this.

“It’s not just that” betraying the nerves, you took a greedy inhale, “It’s what you told Kat in Oslo. It’s how you look at me” following potentially disastrous instincts, you tipped his chin to meet his eye, “It’s all those sudden switches when you seem so cold and calculating and yet so separated from the real you” running out of breath, you could only stare at Neil.

The widened eyes and parted lips told you exactly how shocked he was. You did feel bad for bringing Kat into it. The argument was too strong to let it go. And it worked if his silent panic was anything to go by. He was desperately searching for words, unable to tear his eyes away from yours as though what you said was a binding charm.

“Why do you think you know the real me?” finally, Neil settled upon the question.

One last attempt at making you forgo this madness. Only there was nothing convincing in his delivery. Eyes hazed, showing you fear and uncertainty. A blood droplet on the lower lip where he tore through the skin. Ignoring the most innate of desires to wipe it off, you cupped his cheek. Neil gasped, frozen in the spot. Could it be working? Sliding your hand down, you interlocked your fingers with his. Everything felt surreal. As if you were not a part of the scene. But you had to persist. To finish what you started.

“Because you once told me that you’ve never lied to me. That I’m very important. Your everything, even” your voice broke again on the last sentence as you tightened your hold over Neil’s hand, “And I understand that you could have changed your mind, but…” you hesitated, feeling him shudder.

Oh my god. Your heart broke for the umpteenth time as the fact dawned on you. Neil was shivering slightly as though he was cold. But there was no draft. Nothing to cause it apart from your presence, words, and the physical touch. A choked sob built up in your throat.

“…why are you trembling when all I’m doing is holding your hand? Am I that revolting?” the questions were interrupted by a sniff you could not hold back any longer; there was time for honesty, “The last few days have been awful, making me want to stupid things just to feel something different than heartbreak. I’m not saying that to get your pity, but if I got it all so wrong then tell me now. Because I’m not sure I can survive much longer like this” after finishing the speech, the tears trailed down your cheeks uninvited.

It was all there for him. Nothing to add. Your heart was beating fast, blood pounding in your ears. For a second, you felt suspended in time, unable to do anything but stare at Neil, who seemed utterly speechless. And then his face fell. Eyes fell shut as he let out a heart-shattering whimper. Tears started falling down his face as you tried to brush them away. You have not seen him that broken since the aftermath of TP’s death. He tugged his hand out of your hold to cover his face, turning away. Christ… The searing pain was back, this time making your heart bleed for Neil. You did not know what to do, powerless and paralyzed with a multitude of thoughts and feelings. After a minute which felt like an eternity, Neil faced you again with red-rimmed eyes and tragedy in his gaze. That was the needed wake-up. Stepping back into action, you placed your hand on his chest. Just over the beating heart. A gentle encouragement.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you that it’s over because I still…” the breathless words tinged with panic and struggle as he fought for every gust of air, “I can’t keep on…” another sob, shaking his whole body “You’re…” a sharp intake followed by instant defeat.

Immeasurable anguish in Neil’s eyes was another reason to find the strength you did not know you had. Maybe it was worth it.

“What? I’m here with you and willing to listen. To do anything but please just make me understand” holding back more tears, you made sure he saw the determination painted on your face.

Slowly you were coming to terms with the reality. You would do anything for him. Anything he asked.

“I don’t know how to…” Neil trailed off, looking for answers all over the floor and ceiling, “I’m tired of having to pretend when you’re all I…” a moment of hesitation as his eyes widened.

He did not intend to say that much. You’re all I… what? Before you could find ways of pressing on, he turned away again and sat down on the bed. A frown etched deep into his forehead. Eyebrows furrowed. Eyes glistening with unshed tears. This was bad. Awkwardly, you shifted from one foot to another. Words were escaping you both.

“Then don’t. I won’t bite” your useless quip was received with an ill-disguised dry chuckle, “Call it naïve, but I don’t think it’s anything we can’t fix if we…” shit.

You knew what was there on the tip of your tongue. It was too early. Fuck knows if he even… But he had to. There was no other force in the universe that could cause this much pain.

“If what?” Neil caught your mistake with strange emotion in his eyes.

As though he wanted you to spell it out. You could not give in. Some words had the potential to destroy, and it was too fragile. A freshly opened wound you still had to mend somehow.

“Don’t make me say it again” a whisper to make him understand your actions.

After a beat, Neil nodded. He seemed exhausted, slouching and staring at the floor unseeingly. That feeling of helplessness threatened to come back with force as you were running out of ideas to make it work. To get him back somehow. Then his voice broke the tense silence:

“Christ…” a long exhale before he looked at you again, “I don’t even know where to begin, but…” resignation passed through his face.

You felt a strange spark of hope flicker in the depths of your heart. It did not look like rejection. It did not look like anything you have ever experienced, and yet it made so much sense. Because after everything you have been through, there was no way this could be easy. Kindling that building fire, you cautiously took a step forward, maintaining the eye contact:

“Yes?” the most neutral of tones, holding the emotions at bay.

Everything not to scare him off. You made it so close. You could give up now. A hint of a sad smile upon Neil’s lips was encouraging…

“Come closer. I want to…” he reached out a hand you gladly took, letting him pull you nearer.

It did not matter what he wanted. Only that you could give it to him. Anything. Everything. Upon the sudden surge of courage, you covered the remaining inches of space and straddled his lap in one smooth movement. Another gasp as Neil glanced at you with obvious amazement. Then, as though he worried that even this was too much, he looked down at where his hands tentatively settled on your hips. This position was familiar. And yet, you felt different, unable to make sense of the myriad of emotions and thoughts occupying your mind. All that mattered was Neil. His hesitant but intimate hold. The hair falling into his eyes. Shallow breaths escaping through the parted lips.

“It’s alright, look at me,” gently you lifted his chin so that you could meet his gaze.

Blue eyes full of longing. For you. Exhaling sharply, you knew well enough what to do. You wound your hands around his waist, drawing him into a tight embrace. That too felt natural. After a second, Neil relaxed, melting into your hug as if that was exactly what was missing. At that moment, with head resting in the crook of his neck, at last feeling as though there was a point in all this, your eyes welled up. No matter the suffering, this had to be it. Your everything. Neil breathed you in, warm puffs of air causing shivers all over your body. There was no point in pretending.

“Please come back to me,” you whispered against his skin, letting tears trail onto his shirt.

Neil tightened his hold, hands roaming over your back, pulling you even closer. All it took was a kiss he pressed onto the exposed skin of your collarbone to make you tremble.

“I never left,” the hesitancy told you he did not believe it either.

“You did. But maybe… I’ll do anything to have you back” the urgency in your voice causing Neil to lean back.

He wiped the stray tears from your cheeks, taking an additional moment to caress your neck with tenderness. You could only lean into his touch, feeling as though whatever might happen has already been decided. There was no way you could let this go. Neil seemed to consider something quickly before he spoke:

“All those words… they fail me when I’m trying to explain what I was doing” his voice was raspy with the weight of emotions, “Or why. Because I’m scared of making it come true. It’s as if once I say it… it might…” he paused, searching for words in your eyes.

“Become real?” you offered, running your fingers through his unruly hair.

You were right. It was all an act. The elation was restrained by worry and love. It didn’t matter.

“Yeah…” Neil swallowed hard, “And then there’s all this mess in my head… The thoughts that just won’t shut up. I’m so fucking tired of… of-” the familiarity of his words causing another flash of pain within your heart “I can’t ask you to-” he cut himself off as though the idea was unspeakable.

You caught a sight of something darker within his gaze. They always said that actions speak louder than words…

“Neil, I said I’ll do anything. I mean it. What do you need?” you met his panicked eyes with resilience.

It took him a longer minute to stop staring at you. To wake up. And then, as simple as it can be:

“You. I need you,” touching his forehead to yours his breath ghosted your lips, “But after everything I did, I wouldn’t expect you to want me… like that” the depth of remorse was heart-breaking.

You already knew what the answer would be. Nothing else mattered. Regrets, worries, and fears had to be abandoned for the sake of this.

“The trouble with the heart is that it doesn’t care what you’ve done. Only that this is you,” smiling lightly, you cupped his cheek, “Just… kiss me. Like you mean it. Like you could love me. And then we’ll see if we can make it work,” unsure where the words came from, you faltered.

But before any vicious doubts could step in, Neil closed the gap. His lips slowly glided over yours, reminding you what it felt like. It did not take much persuading for you to open your mouth, deepening the kiss. It felt like coming home after a long time away. Like that first step over the threshold when one is unsure what they will find. Only to realise that everything is in the right place. That they should have never left. You tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him even closer. He groaned upon the sensation, teeth grazing over your bottom lip. A sigh escaped your throat as Neil’s hands ventured underneath the sweater. For the first time in a while, everything made sense. You tugged at his shirt just for the sake of it as a means of showing him how wrong he was. You wanted him more than before if that was possible. The kiss consuming you both with its intensity and force. Your tongues participating in their dance, brushing against each other, increasing the intimacy of the moment. It finally felt right. Slow, unhurried, but desperate. Unforgettable.

You did not even know when it ended. One moment you were willing to give up breath if only to make it last longer. The next Neil had you pinned to the bed, breathless and shocked. When you met his gaze, the depth of expression told you what it meant. Finally.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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elvish-sky · 3 years

Text

Beloved: My Everything

A.N: I’m back with part 2 of Beloved!! I’ll be coming back for real tomorrow, but I was so excited that I could not wait to post this! You can probably tell I had way too much fun with this, and I really did. And I got to write Arien again! I hope you guys love it as much as I do!!

Word Count: 3,712

Summary: Erebor is preparing for the seven-year anniversary celebration of the BotFA. As the Queen, you are fully involved, but you and Thorin also have to manage the excitement of your adopted seven-year-old, Arien.

Pairings: Thorin x Reader, Bard x Thranduil, Fíli x Sigrid

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing.

Beloved Part 1 Director’s Commentary

****

Beloved: My Everything

“Adad! Mama! Look!”

Arien was sprinting down the hallway towards the council room, newly lost tooth in hand as she called out for her father. Bursting through the double doors, the seven-year-old ran the length of the room before jumping into Thorin’s lap, proudly grinning to show him the new gap in her teeth.

Sitting next to your husband, you stifled a giggle as Thorin examined the tooth, looking like he was examining a precious piece of metal because of how focused he was. Meanwhile, the rest of the council was in various states of annoyance or fond disapproval of the meeting, Balin shaking his head with a smile at the picture the royal family was painting.

It was true you were an odd group. After adopting Arien on the quest for Erebor and reclaiming the mountain, your future had seemed uncertain while Thorin’s life hung in the balance. But he had recovered, and the two of you had been married in a stunning ceremony, with a toddler Arien placing the queen’s crown on your head. The dwarves had been worried at first about having a human queen and princess, but your calming effect on Thorin and Arien’s general cuteness had quickly won them over. Of course, the fact that your first council meeting ever had started with you walking in and throwing knives in rapid succession so that they speared the table between each of the council members (except Balin’s) hands may have given them a healthy fear of you as well.

Now, six years later, the kingdom was thriving. Trade with Dale was stronger than ever, and the uneasy alliance with the elves had grown into something more tolerant. In fact, Kings Thranduil and Bard would be visiting in five days for the anniversary of the Battle of the Five Armies, as it had come to be known.

The year after the battle was a hard one. Thorin and his nephews were grievously injured, and while they healed it had been up to you and Balin to run the kingdom. On the first anniversary of the Battle, the mood in Erebor was noticeably somber. Although the king and princes had healed, it didn’t seem as if the kingdom would ever fully recover. You had noticed this, and remembering that an elven envoy, with the king, was in Dale, had mustered up a feast and invited the men and elves to what would become a yearly tradition.

Now, you were in the throes of planning the event with the council.

“That tooth is lovely, darling. Now go play so that Mama and I can finish work, ok?” Thorin pressed the tooth back into Arien’s hand. “And take good care of this!”

Arien left the room with a beaming smile, waving at all of the councilors.

Days later, Arien burst into the room you shared with Thorin.

“Mama! Adad! Wake up! The elves are coming today!”

Thorin groaned. “Arien. How many times do I have to tell you that you should not be this excited about elves? You should be happier to see orcs than you should be to see elves.”

She grinned, ignoring him and throwing open the curtains, the sunlight streaming through the windows setting her dark skin aglow.

“Arien, no.” You gestured for her to close them, shielding your face from the early morning sun.

“But Mama they’re coming today! Imma see Sigrid and Bain and Tilda, and Uncle Bard and Uncle Thranduil and Leggy!” She pranced about the room, gesturing as she talked about everyone.

You smirked at Thorin, who had one arm thrown over his face, hair splayed on the pillow. His bare chest was glowing in the sunlight, but you were focused on the expression of annoyance you could barely see under his arm. Thorin was extremely disapproving of the fact that your daughter called Thranduil ‘Uncle,’ and adored Legolas so much. Personally, you thought it was great, helping to bridge the divide between the kingdoms. You also were friends with the Elven-King, him having sheltered you during the whole Arkenstone fiasco, and Legolas was one of your good friends as well.

“I suppose we should get up.” You shooed Arien out of the room, into her adjoining set in the royal wing, before turning back to your husband. You leaned down to kiss him.

“C’mon, Thorin. We really should get up.” You pressed a trail of kisses down his jaw, hoping to coax him up.

He groaned, sitting up. “Fine. I suppose I should look my best to upstage the elves.”

You sighed. “If that’s what gets you up then so be it.”

Thorin smirked at you, standing up and grabbing a leather tie from his wardrobe, and binding his hair back so that it cascaded down his back. You walked over to him, hugging him from behind.

“You know that Arien and I will always love you more than the elves, right?”

He nodded, turning to kiss you. “I love you too.”

Later that day, you strode down the hall, Dori by your side.

“We have everything set up in the hall?”

He nodded.

“All the food is ready?”

He nodded again.

“And the drinks? We have the Mirkwood wines that they shipped ahead?”

“Yes, Y/N. Everything is going to be fine, we’ve been planning for months. Now, the elves are about to arrive. You need to meet your husband and daughter at the gates.”

“Ok, then. See you later?”

“Go, Y/N!” Dori shooed you in the direction of the gates, and, laughing, you turned and walked away.

You stood at the entrance to Erebor, holding hands with a bouncing Arien, Thorin on her other side. You shared a smile with him, leaning over your daughter to kiss him quickly before turning to face the approaching elves. Thranduil dismounted from his elk, Legolas doing the same from his horse, and they walked towards you.

“Your majesties, your highness,” the Elven-King greeted you all with a nod of his head.

You and Thorin returned the greeting in kind, clasping the elves’ forearms. Arien stood there, now quivering with excitement, and when you nodded to her that it was okay to say hello she burst forward with a cry of, “Uncle Thranduil!!” throwing herself into his arms.

“Hello, little one,” Thranduil greeted her with a smile, hugging her back only slightly awkwardly.

You had to admit that your daughter had a good effect on the elf, he was much less prickly than he used to be. You fondly recalled the time when, visiting Mirkwood with Arien and Thorin, you had been unable to find your daughter for several hours. It was only upon going outside that you discovered the Princess of Erebor and the King of Mirkwood making flower-crowns together. Thorin’s jaw had dropped, while you had just smiled, watching Arien’s springy coils of hair bounce, her dark skin glowing as she ran around the elf, weaving flowers into his hair.

Now, Thranduil was lifting Arien to pet his elk, smiling as the child giggled. He set her down after a moment, looking behind you at the three new dwarves who had just appeared.

“Your highnesses.” He dipped his head again in greeting, this time to Fíli, Kíli, and Dis. They greeted him in kind before Kíli strode forward to Legolas. The elf bent his head to listen to the dwarf, before nodding and following the dwarf into the mountain, gesturing about what looked like bows and other archery-related things.

“And, that’s the last we’ll see of Legolas and Kíli until someone finds them to bring them to the party!” Thorin smiled as he spoke, and with that, the last of the remaining tension was broken. Thorin grabbed Arien’s hand, leading the delighted child back into the mountain. Thranduil offered you his arm and you gladly accepted, chatting with an old friend as the rest of the elven delegation followed you into Erebor.

“When will Bard be arriving?”

Your eyebrows rose at the informal use of the king’s name, but you answered nonetheless.

“We expect him just before dusk.”

Thranduil smiled softly at this, piquing your curiosity even more, but you let it slide and continued the conversation to other topics.

Back in your rooms, having repeated the whole greeting process with Bard, you helped your husband and daughter get ready for the party. Thorin had donned his finest Durin blue robes, the silver embroidery twining around the cuffs and the hem and highlighting the silver strands of his hair. Arien was resplendent in bright gold, her circlet glowing against her dark skin. Her new dress had blue embroidery around the hem, with reflective panels sewn in to refract golden light all over the room.

And you were radiant in a silver dress, full skirts swirling around your feet and Durin blues ribbons twined through your hair. Your crown sat on your brow lightly, you having opted for the delicate one to save yourself a headache. The three of you put together looked like the very picture of royalty, the elements of Durin blue in each outfit tying it all together as a familial piece.

Later that night, you sat at the high table, gazing around the great room. Arien had been hauled off by Bain and Tilda, and you could see the two older ones playing with her, all three looking delighted.

Sigrid and Fíli were at the center of the dance floor, her laughing at something he said as he twirled her around. You looked forward to cashing in the bet you had made with Thorin about them being a couple- you were rarely right and had lost spectacularly in the bet you had made about Kíli and Legolas (you had been so certain they were dating, but it was just their shared love of archery. And, as Thorin has pointed out, two people that obsessed with their hair would not have worked well in a relationship). Besides, your nephew looked very happy with the human girl.

Kíli and Legolas had deigned to join the party after their customary archery competition, and each was mingling with different crowds. Legolas looked to be regaling a group of humans with his exploits, while Kíli had joined his cousin, Bain, and Tilda in making mischief.

Meanwhile, Thranduil and Bard were conversing in a corner, leaned close together over their glasses of wine, which made you even more suspicious. You resolved to find out what was going on with the two of them while they were staying with you for the next several days.

Thorin tapped you on the shoulder, startling you from your observations. You looked up to see him standing next to your chair, hand outstretched.

“Shall we dance, amralîme?”

“Yes, please. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You grabbed his hand, walking over to the dance for and twirling on. You heard clapping as the King and Queen of Erebor were spotted on the dance floor, and smiled. There were few things you loved more than dancing with your husband, and so as the band began to play you started.

The dancing was lovely, you switched partners after the first to dance with Fíli, then with a suddenly appearing Kíli, then Legolas. Thranduil swooped in to take your hand after his son, and Bard danced with you after the elf. Your night was rounded out by Bain asking for a dance, which you happily obliged (you didn’t want to be disloyal to any of the others, but aside from the elves, who were inherently graceful, Bain was the best dancer of the lot).

As you walked off the dance floor for what you hoped was the last time (your feet were starting to hurt), you noticed that the room was quickly emptying. It made sense, it was extremely late. You had left the celebration halfway through to put Arien to sleep, leaving an equally sleepy Kíli to watch over her. Sigrid had left with Bain and Tilda a little while ago, while Fíli sat on the dais with his uncle, softly speaking with him. Bard and Thranduil had disappeared at some point as well, although you could not say when, or if they had left together.

Now, you walked up the dais to grab your husband. Saying a quick farewell to Fíli, you entwined your fingers with Thorin’s, making your way out of the hall.

“I think we’ll be having another wedding soon,” your husband said.

You grinned. “I did tell you so. Now pay up.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “So you did. And I can’t fulfill the bet until it snows, you know that.”

You did. You had set the conditions of the bet to be that if Thorin won, you’d have to dress like him for two weeks. You wouldn’t have minded, except for the large clunky boots he always wore. You would have looked ridiculous If you won, Thorin had to have a snowball fight with whoever the highest-ranking visiting diplomat was.

Reaching your room, you leaned against the door.

“I had a lovely night.” You leaned in to kiss your husband.

“I did too.” He kissed you back, before pushing open the door.

You gasped as you entered your room, looking through the windows. It was snowing.

“I guess you’ll have to fulfill your end of the best tonight!” You smirked. “And you know, we have two equally high-ranking people in Erebor right now!”

Thorin buried his face in his hands. “You’re telling me I have to start a snowball fight with Thranduil and Bard.”

You grinned, quickly changing into a warm tunic and boots, throwing a cloak over it all as Thorin did the same.

As you headed out the door, you heard Thorin mutter, “actually, throwing a snowball at that pompous elf might not be the worst thing after all,” under his breath, causing you to giggle.

You first went next door to Arien’s room, waking Kíli while careful not to rouse Arien. The prince was groggy at first, but brightened when you said the words “snowball fight.”

“Should we wake Arien?” Kíli was putting on his own cloak as he spoke.

You looked at Thorin, considering.

“She’ll be very upset if she finds out we played in the snow without her,” Thorin observed.

You walked over to her bed, shaking her gently awake.

“Mama? Is it morning?” Arien blinked her eyes open, groggy.

“No, my darling. It’s snowing! Adad needs to have a snowball fight, so we’re going outside!”

She sprang out of bed. “Snow! I love snow!”

You helped her put on her small tunic and pants, fastening her cloak tight before she tugged her boots on. Reaching out, she grabbed Thorin and Kíli’s hands.

“C’mon Adad, c’mon Kee! We’re gonna have a snowball fight!”

You followed them to Fíli’s door, then Dis’, both of whom were enthusiastic about the plan. You sent Fíli, Arien, and Kíli to rouse Bard’s children and Legolas, the adults making your way to Bard’s room.

Turning the corner, you, Thorin, and Dis stopped short.

Bard and Thranduil were entwined, kissing, in the middle of the hallway, Bard’s fingers running through the elf’s hair. Hearing your gasp, they broke apart, flushed. You all just stood there, dumbstruck for a moment, before you were spurred into action.

Walking forward, you slung an arm around each of their shoulders. “Yes, yes, congratulations and all that. Now, it’s snowing, so we’re going outside. But we’re all very happy for the two of you.”

Thorin and Dis nodded along with your words, and the five of you walked down the hall towards the gates to meet the rest of the royals.

At the main entrance, you walked over to the small door beside the massive gates, unlocking it and gesturing for everyone to follow you outside.

As soon as they were out in the snow, Fíli and Sigrid sprinted away from the mountain, and you could see them beginning to build a fort. Kíli grabbed Bain and Arien to assist him in building another, and Legolas and Tilda were starting to stockpile snowballs together. You could sense that this was the beginning of a snow-war.

Turning around, you saw your husband, the King Under the Mountain, climbing the outside walls of Erebor with a pile of snow cradled in his cloak. Finding a secure perch, he gathered the snow into balls and started raining them down on Thranduil, who shrieked at the cold, startling Bard who stood next to him into quickly moving away.

Thranduil, running over to his son’s stockpile of snowballs, was bombarded from all sides as he tried to steal from Legolas and Tilda. Succeeding, the elf started throwing them back at Thorin, nailing him directly in his face. Thorin dropped to the ground, Bard hitting him with another snow projectile shortly after. You laughed with Dis as you watched three of the most powerful people in Middle-Earth have a snowball fight.

Suddenly, white splattered all over Dis, who turned to see her younger son standing sheepishly behind her.

“Sorry, Amad. I was aiming for Uncle!” Kíli had his hands raised in defense.

“No, you were not! You’re an archer, Kíli, I know you hit what you aim at! And your Uncle is all the way over there!” Dis advanced on Kíli, a snowball in each hand, and her son promptly turned and ran, shrieking as she chased after him.

You were standing there, quite content to watch it all unfold as Fíli and Sigrid led an attack on Legolas and Tilda, Arien and Bain sneaking up to attack them from the rear. Your peace was disturbed, however, by something ice-cold being shoved down your back. You spun around, screaming, to see a smirking Thorin standing behind you. You tackled him into the snow, wrestling until you had him pinned beneath you. He was flushed, both from the cold and exertion, panting, and so irresistible that you leaned down to kiss him.

Thorin quickly deepened the kiss, and you responded, until a shout of, “Cool off, lovebirds!” rang out. Springing up in case someone was about to dump snow on you, you saw Tilda and Legolas dumping snow on the heads of Fíli and Sigrid, who quickly broke apart from their kiss with yells of “So cold!” and “Ouch!” Tilda, Bain, and Legolas, with Arien perched on his shoulders. stood there with large grins on their faces as you and Thorin made your way to join them.

“Where are your fathers?” you asked Legolas and Tilda.

They shrugged, and you turned to your husband.

Thorin smirked. “Shall we go find them?”

You nodded, along with Fíli, Sigrid, Legolas, Arien still on his shoulders, Bain, and Tilda, and all scooped up several snowballs each. Kíli and Dis appeared, Kíli looking suitably chastened, and each grabbed an armful of snow as well.

“What are we doing?” Kíli whispered.

“We’re gonna ambush Bard and Thranduil,” Thorin informed him, “Have you seen them?”

Dis nodded, “They’re just around the corner of the walls. But… maybe their children shouldn’t be around for this?”

Sigrid laughed. “It’s fine. They’ve been dating for months now, and neither of them is exactly subtle. Our father has made so many trips to Mirkwood recently that we got suspicious and enlisted Legolas for help.”

The elf nodded. “Tilda snuck to Mirkwood in one of the carts her father brought and told me everything. We officially found out when we walked in on them kissing in the throne room.”

Tilda rolled her eyes. “They really do need to work on stealth. But the important thing here is that they don’t know we know.”

“So wait. You’ve known for months and didn’t tell us?!” Thorin was offended.

Bain shrugged. “It wasn’t our news to tell.”

“And that’s exactly the right attitude,” you smiled at him. “Now, let us go ambush some kings!”

Sticking close to the side of the mountain, you all snuck in a line. Thorin and Legolas had climbed up to dump snow on the two kings from above, while the rest of you attacked from the ground. Before climbing, Legolas had transferred Arien to Fíli’s shoulders, where she was happily preparing ammo.

You held out a hand for everyone behind you to stop, peering around the corner at Thranduil and Bard kissing as the snow fell around them. It looked quite romantic, to be honest, but a good snowball surprise was worth disrupting the moment.

You motioned to Thorin and Legolas, perched above, to begin.

“To quote Tilda, cool off, lovebirds!”

Thorin dumped a pile of snow on their heads, and the rest of you sprung around the corner to bombard them with snowballs. They quickly retaliated, and it dissolved into chaos once again, everyone having the time of their lives.

Dis, Bain, and Tilda had taken Arien in a while ago, Dis staying with her niece, but the rest of you had enjoyed the snow for a while longer. You had all officially congratulated Bard and Thranduil on their relationship, and after the initial shock of finding out that their children had known for months, they were very pleased.

Now, you were walking back to your rooms with your husband in the early hours of the morning. You still felt the blood in your cheeks, exhilarated from the adrenaline and happiness, and Thorin was still flushed from the cold beside you. You pushed open the doors to your bedroom, Thorin shutting them behind you. You walked to your wardrobe, changing out of the soaked tunic and pants into your nightclothes, Thorin doing the same.

Once changed, you climbed into bed next to your husband, laying your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating as his hand came up to your face, tilting up to his. Thorin slanted his lips over yours, and you responded for a sweet, long kiss, filled with love and all the emotions you could not put into words.

You decided to try anyway. “I love you so much, amralîme. You’re everything I could ever want. You and Arien.”

Thorin smiled. “I love you too, my everything.”

You heard the words rumble in his chest, and smiled softly. You had your beloved husband and daughter. Seven years later, everything was perfect.

Everything tag 💕: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel

Thorin tag: @lathalea

Beloved pt 2 tag: @beakami

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hookingminor · 4 years

Text

three lessons - mat barzal

a/n: new series idea I just had, spoiler there is filth and the next parts will be as well also im not the best at writing smut so you’ll have to bear with me here. anyway! let me know what you think! comments/thoughts are always appreciated! also, I know it briefly mentions being the younger sister of a teammate, but I know nothing about the isles so its literally just for plot purposes don’t expect much from that and this isn’t proofread sorry

word count: 4.2k

summary: you’re tired of being a virgin, so you hit up Mat to help you with your problem and strike a deal

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

PART TWO

This was by far the worst idea you’ve ever had.

In your twenty-one years of life, you’ve never had a worse idea. Your initial plan was crazy in and of itself, but adding Mat to the mix? It’s like you were asking to get your ass kicked.

The original thought came to you a year ago when you were sitting on the couch of your friend’s apartment, four glasses of wine into the night. She was complaining about her latest hookup, raging over the fact that he didn’t know where the clit was.

This is how it usually went between you two.

She was the one who got all the guys, the one who could pick up anyone from the bar and spend the night in a stranger’s bed without a second thought. You, however, were the wingwoman, the person who was left behind when your friend eventually decided to leave with a man.

It didn’t bother you that much. It’s not like you felt like you needed a boyfriend, you were secure in almost all aspects of your life, but the nagging thought in the back of your mind kept saying that you needed to get fucked. And soon.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream or the fact that you hadn’t masturbated in nearly two weeks, but you rolled your eyes at your friend before you finally snapped.

“At least you’ve had someone to fuck the past few months! Be grateful you’re not me and still a virgin at twenty!” You shouted, fed up with hearing stories about how your friend’s sex life was so terrible. At least she had a sex life to begin with.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you apologized quickly, bringing your hand to cover your mouth in shock, “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s hard listening to you talk about this when I can’t contribute to the conversation.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry for always talking about it,” your friend said, eyes softening when she heard how regretful you sounded, “How about we change the subject?”

She didn’t wait for your response before launching into a monologue about how classes were going and her upcoming finals. You tried listening to her, but your mind was still stuck on the previous topic. Of course it was unfortunate that you happened to be twenty and with no sexual experience, but it didn’t bother you before like it was bothering you right now.

Ideas began racing through your head of how you could rectify this, and that’s when the seed was planted.

Now, almost a year later, your carefully thought out plan was almost complete; though, ‘carefully’ could be more loosely translated to ‘reckless.’

You paced outside of Mat’s door, walking back and forth as you fiddled with your hands, working up the courage to knock. This was such a bad idea. You brought your hand up to the door, pausing before your fist made contact before bringing it back down and resuming your pacing.

After another five minutes of deep contemplation, you made your decision. You knocked on the door before you could second guess yourself, now bringing your hands to tug at the strands of your hair.

The few seconds it took for Mat to answer the door felt like a lifetime, and when he opened the door, you were met with a confused look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, peeking his head out of the door to glance down the hallway.

“Hi, I know you weren’t expecting me and you have to leave for practice soon, but I needed to talk to you about something,” you explained quickly.

Mat’s brows stayed furrowed in confusion, but he opened the door further to let you inside.

“Firstly, I just wanted to say that Anders doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d really appreciate it if you never mentioned it to him,” you said as he closed the door behind you.

Mat ushered you into his living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch as he crossed his arms and waited for you to continue.

“This is going to sound absolutely crazy and you’re probably going to reject me but just hear me out,” you said, taking a deep sigh. He was totally going to shut you down, but there was no turning back now.

“I wanted to ask you if you’d have sex with me. You’d be doing me a favor as my friend. I’m kind of… a virgin… and I really don’t want to be anymore,” you took a breath to watch his reaction which was unreadable, “You’re probably thinking it’s a terrible idea, being that I’m Anders’s sister and everything, but I promise I won’t say anything to him. I just want to get a little experience under my belt… it’s kind of embarrassing. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you’d give me a few lessons or something.”

You raised your eyes to meet Mat’s as you finished your rant, worrying about what he was going to say. A long silence fell between you two as he processed what you said.

“Uh… I don’t really know what to say,” he started awkwardly, bringing his hand to rub at the back of his neck, “I’m honored, I guess? That you asked me to help, but I’m just a little confused since we don’t really know each other.”

Okay, you could give him that. It was true that you weren’t the closest of friends, but you’d met on a handful occasions. It’s not like you were complete strangers, but other than knowing what you were studying in school and that you were Anders’s much younger sister, he didn’t know much about you.

“That’s fair,” you said, “I asked you because, well, you’re obviously hot which I’m sure you know. Also, not knowing each other is what makes this perfect. I’m not attached to you in any way and vice versa. Honestly? You’re one of the few guys in town that I feel comfortable around, so it was either ask you or find a random Tinder hookup and have to do this speech all over again but ten times as awkward.”

Mat didn’t like the last part of that explanation: the whole ‘random Tinder hookup to take your virginity’ part. He may not have known you that well, but he knew you were a nice girl and deserved to be more than just a notch on the bedpost of someone who didn’t care about you.

“I know you’re probably thinking I’m insane, and I get it. I felt a little insane when I thought about this too. But I really feel like you’re the best option. I understand if you think it’s too weird, though,” you said when he hadn’t replied. Your eyes watched him as he sat still as a rock across from you.

“I… I have to leave for practice soon,” was the only thing he responded with.

You felt your heart drop at his statement. Of course he was going to say no, you were an idiot for even trying.

“Yeah, totally, I’ll get going,” you said quickly, gathering your stuff and making your way to the entrance.

When you reached the door, you turned back one last time to see him still in the same position.

“Can you not tell Anders, please? I know this was a crazy, stupid idea but… just don’t tell him, okay? He doesn’t need to know about my sex… well, lack of sex life,” you added before shutting the door behind you.

Mat had lost his mind.

Truly and honestly, he had lost his mind if he was even considering your proposition. Which he was. He was really considering your proposition, and he wanted to punch himself for it.

He couldn’t possibly agree to this, could he? You were the captain’s younger sister. Sure, you two weren’t the closest of siblings, but the code still applied. And the code clearly said he was not allowed to fraternize with relatives of his teammates in any way. He hadn’t broken this rule yet, and he couldn’t believe he was even thinking about breaking it now.

Inside his head, he weighed the pros and the cons of sleeping with you. Well, teaching you would be a better phrase. If Mat was being honest, he had blacked out after the terms ‘virgin’ and ‘have sex with me’ fell from your lips. He watched you from his spot on the couch, his eyes following your mouth but not processing the words you were saying. Truthfully, he ran over the conversation a million times in his head and he wasn’t sure he was actually processing them now.

You wanted him to take your virginity. You wanted him to give you experience. You called them lessons.

You were, quite literally, asking him to be your sex tutor.

When you left the apartment, he did what he did best. He compartmentalized. Instead of thinking about the awkward conversation he just had with you, he pushed all thoughts of you from his mind and went to practice. For a whole three hours he focused on hockey. He even had the courage to look at his captain despite the weird interaction he’d just had with his sister.

But then practice was over, and Mat was left with nothing to do but think about what you said. Thinking turned into contemplating, and contemplating eventually turned into pulling up your Instagram page.

Mat typed and retyped the message a million times, deleting it before he could accidentally pressed send. He went back and forth between wanting to say yes and throwing his phone as far away from him so he wouldn’t be tempted.

What could be the worst thing that happened? He thought.

A million bad things could happen. He knew this deep in his heart that it was, for all intents and purposes, the worst idea ever to teach his captain’s sister how to have sex, but his head and desire to get laid had other plans.

So, he picked up his phone one last time and composed the same message he’d written a hundred times.

to @yourusername: does your offer still stand? text me 212-203-3849

For the second time in a week, you were pacing outside of Mat’s apartment. You’d received his message almost six days ago, and now here you were.

Your chest nearly collapsed with relief when you’d seen he wanted to take you up on your offer. And then your stomach filled with butterflies, nerves wracking your body as you now had an official plan to lose your virginity.

You eagerly liked the message, dialing his number in your phone so you could hash out the details over text. He promised you two would go over some ground rules in person, saying it felt too weird to have a written contract or something over text. You agreed to his plans and set a date to go over to his apartment that following weekend.

Feeling more courageous than you did a week ago, you knocked on the door with confidence this time. If you were going to lose your virginity tonight, you weren’t going to look like a frightened kitten when you did.

Mat greeted you with a warm smile this time, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. Same as last time, he ushered you into his apartment and directed you towards his couch.

“Do you want anything to drink? I was about to open a bottle of wine,” Mat asked, already moving to the kitchen.

“Yeah, wine would be great. Thanks,” you replied, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

Mat tinkered around in the kitchen for a couple minutes before he joined you, handing you a glass of red. You took a long sip as he settled down, hoping the wine would work fast to calm your nerves.

“So, what did you want to discuss first?” He asked after a moment.

“Well, we should probably have some ground rules. I was thinking that since you’re the expert and all, you should decide how these lessons go. Oh, and I think that we should keep this to a three-time thing. Anything more than that will probably get more complicated,” you answered with ease. Not to say you had spent the past week thinking about what you were going to say, but you definitely did.

Mat nodded in agreement at your suggestions before adding his own.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Also, we can’t tell anyone about this because, you know, your brother and the team and all,” he said. You hummed in response, that much was a given. No one could know about this.

“So, where do we start? Should I take off my clothes or?” You asked.

“No,” he said with a chuckle, “We’re going to watch a movie.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. For now at least.”

You hadn’t known what you were expecting, but it was not a cuddle session on his couch. You imagined that maybe he would’ve just ripped your clothes off the minute you walked in to get down to business, but he was being way more casual than you were feeling. Which was probably a good thing because your heart was beating a thousand beats a minute, so at least one of you had this situation under control.

Mat had told you to dress comfortably as he didn’t plan on leaving the apartment, and he was dressed in a similar fashion as you: gray sweatpants with a dark blue t-shirt. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and a shirt from your college before leaving, making sure to wear at least a nice bralette and pair of panties underneath.

He drank down the rest of his wine before adjusting himself on the couch, moving into a position where he was laying down. Grabbing the blanket folded on the back cushion, he spread it out over his body before patting the spot in front of him. Normally, you would’ve been intimidated by a bold move like this, but the wide smile on his face indicated that he was perfectly comfortable right now, and his ease surrounded you in waves.

Slamming back the rest of your wine, you lay down in front of him, tucking your body against his while his arms pulled your chest closer.

“Anything specific you want to watch?” He asked, using his free hand to grab the remote. You muttered a quiet ‘no,’ allowing him to go ahead and choose. Mat scrolled through the Netflix options before settling on a new action movie.

“So, how much experience do you have exactly?” Mat asked once the introduction credits had finished. It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at you because your face heated up in embarrassment.

“I’ve only ever got as far as making out,” you muttered.

“No one’s ever touched you then?” He prodded.

“No,” you replied, your cheeks on fire. You couldn’t see him, but Mat nodded in response against the back of your head, letting out a quiet ‘okay.’

It wasn’t the first time Mat had been with a virgin, but that hadn’t been since high school and when he also wasn’t that experienced himself. Mat decided to let the movie play for a little bit longer before making his first move.

That time came when there was a particularly slow scene on. Slowly, he lifted up the hem of your t-shirt and slid his hand underneath, tracing small circles on the skin of your stomach. You clenched your thighs together as a warm feeling started to spread throughout your body.

It was happening.

Mat kept his hands there for a few minutes, inching up so slowly you almost couldn’t tell he’d moved at all. When the initial shock of his touch settled, you tried to refocus your attention to the movie.

Another ten minutes passed before Mat made his next move. Almost imperceptibly, he used his elbow to push his torso up before he brushed the hair covering your neck to the side. You felt his fingertips brush your ear, a shiver running up your spine. He brought his lips to your neck a split second later, placing a soft kiss against it.

Your eyes briefly shut for a second, reveling in the fact that Mat’s lips were on your neck. He kissed around your jaw a couple times before the hand on his stomach was shifting you to rest on your back. Your body followed his lead and your eyes met his hazel ones before he was leaning in to kiss your lips.

A heat unfurled in your body the second your lips connected and you eagerly moved yours against his. One of Mat’s hands had moved to the back of your neck to tilt your head at a better angle, the other hand moving further up under your shirt to rest just below your bra clasp. Your body involuntarily arched up into his hands as his tongue slipped out to part your lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue entered immediately, tangling with yours. You and Mat lay on the couch for a good while, making out heavily before you eventually had to break it for air.

“At least you don’t have to worry about kissing. You’re a natural,” Mat commended with an airy chuckle, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his compliment.

Mat’s smile brightened at your laugh before he leaned back in, the heat building in your body at double speed. You knew you were attracted to him, but you didn’t think he would be able to wind you up this fast. Or maybe it was just because you’ve never had a man touch you like this before.

Breaking the kiss, Mat began to trail more kisses down your body, pausing near your collarbone when he heard a particular breathy gasp leave your mouth. Mat continued his path over your shirt until he reached your belly button.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, looking up at you.

“You can take mine off if you take yours off,” you replied with a seductive smirk. Mat pulled back from your body, matching your smirk with one of his own as he tore off his shirt. Less than a second later, he was tugging at the hem of yours, urging you to sit up so he could take it off.

Mat’s hands were back on your body right after he tossed your shirt on the floor. This time, he retraced his path down your torso with his mouth and tongue, leaving no patch of skin untouched. His fingers danced around the edge of your leggings, teasing you until you were lifting up your hips into his face.

“Please take them off, Mat,” you said through gasps, wanting nothing more than to be rid of your clothing. He chuckled lightly against your waistband, his nose tickling your abdomen before he began shimmying off your leggings.

Tilting your hips up, you helped him slide the pants down your legs along with your underwear. Though your cheeks flamed up at the thought of being exposed before Mat, you felt oddly calm (well, as calm as you can be given the circumstances) with him.

“Holy shit, baby. You’re soaked,” Mat noted with a deep groan. He shuffled his body further down the couch into a comfortable position, lifting one leg to hook over his shoulder.

You breathed in shaky breaths as Mat placed gentle kisses on your thighs, working upwards slowly until he reached your core. And when he used his tongue to lick a strip across your pussy, your back arched into the air as you let out a loud moan.

“You gotta stay still, Y/N,” Mat chuckled darkly, wrapping one hand to steady your middle.

“Sorry, never done this before,” you replied in gasps.

Now immobilized, Mat resumed his place between your legs, repeating the same series of licks before he closed his lips around your clit. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive area. God, you would have done this a long time ago if you knew it would feel this good. You weren’t sure if it was too early to feel the heat inside you build up this quickly or if Mat was just too good at this. You hoped it was the latter.

His tongue lapped at your folds, and your hands flew down to grasp his hair in need. You didn’t think you could moan any louder, but then he brought his thumb to your clit to rub in tight circles as his tongue teased your entrance.

“Holy fuck,” you whined out, canting your hips up as much as you could. You could feel his smirk against your pussy at your exclamation, bringing his hand down to slowly enter a finger into you.

You let out a surprised gasp as you felt the first finger penetrate you. Mat kept his attention on your clit, lips sucking harshly at it. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, focusing on how good he was making you feel.

After a few thrusts of one finger, giving you plenty of time to adjust, he added a second, feeling your walls tighten around them. He moved both fingers in and out of you, alternating the pressure between your entrance and clit. Just when he hit the right spot inside you, your hand tugged on his hair tightly, and he took the hint to curl his fingers against that spot.

“I’m so close, Mat,” you moaned, tossing your head back into the pillow.

“What do you need, baby?” He asked, pulling back for a quick breath. You glanced down to meet his gaze, taking in the way his chin glistened from your pussy. The view made you moan lowly, and his eyes darkened at the sound.

“Your tongue, please,” you begged quietly.

Mat heard the words leave your mouth and nestled his face back between your legs, tongue sliding up your slit in response. In rhythm with stroking your g-spot, he sucked at your clit, and it was mere seconds before your body coiled tightly inside. He kept the same pace and before long, you felt yourself crest the peak and then fall.

Mat removed his fingers slowly from your entrance, his tongue licking softly at your folds until he felt your breathing return to normal. It took you a few seconds to regain your sense of self, stars still whirling in the corners of your vision. When you finally felt yourself grounded on Earth again, you opened your eyes to see a self-satisfied smirk on Mat’s face.

“You’re so hot when you come,” he said when you met his gaze, and had you not been riding high on cloud nine when he said this, you might have blushed in embarrassment. But you weren’t embarrassed right now. The only thing you felt was giddy. Giddy because you were one step closer to your end goal.

And while you were blissed out, you dropped your gaze to notice the extremely visible bulge tenting in his sweatpants. Focused on a new task, you sat up quickly before leaning over Mat’s body so you could return the favor. Your lips crashed against his in a frenzy, your hands clumsily reaching down to grasp his length. However, you only got to feel it for a second before Mat’s hand was tugging it away.

“Not tonight, babe. Tonight was about you,” Mat said with a strained voice, breaking the kiss to look at you.

“What do you mean? We’re not having sex tonight?” You asked in confusion, your head still a little hazy from the orgasm.

“No, we’re not,” he laughed, noticing the wantonness in your voice, “You said I’m in charge, right? This was already a lot for one night, so we’ll put off the sex until next time.”

You nodded your head, though you weren’t really understanding. It made sense. Tonight was a very big step for you, and he didn’t want to give you too much at once. But despite that, your pussy was begging for a repeat performance and you were so far gone you were willing to do just about anything Mat would say.

“What about you, though?” You asked, glancing down to the noticeable tent.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. We still have two more lessons. There’s plenty of time for that later,” he replied, though the bulge between you seemed to say otherwise.

“Promise you’re okay?” You insisted.

“I swear, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle.

A comfortable silence fell between you after that, and you couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face. Your eyes sparkled with renewed purpose, and you felt satisfied for the first time in a long time. A smile of Mat’s own slowly appeared on his face as he watched you light up before him. Before you could stop yourself, you threw yourself into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank you, Mat. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You said happily, punctuating each ‘thank you’ with a loud smacking kiss on his cheek.

When you pulled back to give him that award-winning smile again, Mat had one thought.

He was totally fucked.

#mat barzal #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #nhl smut #mat barzal imagine #my writing #isles13

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Six: Be My Baby

a/n: welcome back lovelies! Thank you once again for all of your kindness and support for chapter five!! I am so glad you enjoyed it :’) As promised: some more Halani sweetness that is truly good for the soul. Can’t wait for you to see what’s in store for our favorite lovebirds <3 I have had so much fun chatting with some of you and hearing your thoughts, so keep ‘em coming! Happy reading :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, sickeningly sweet PDA <3

Word Count: 4.7k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, and five

The rain descends in full force, strong and unrelenting, but Harry and Alani are too wrapped up in their own little world inside the Bronco to notice. They sit facing each other with palms touching, comparing hand sizes while they ramble about everything and nothing at all. Harry still has to remind himself to blink every so often despite the irrational fear that Alani will disappear when his eyes open again. With the knowledge that every moment could be this perfect, she silently curses herself for not crossing the friendship barrier sooner.

“Think you bit me a little bit,” Harry comments, scanning his lower lip for any signs of bruising.

“Did not,” Alani defends with a light giggle.

He pouts his lower lip in her direction and leans closer for her to observe. “Did too, look!”

“Fine. I guess I won’t kiss you anymore if I’m such a detriment to your health,”

Harry sneaks his fingers inside Alani’s sweatshirt and tickles her sides, relishing in the laughter that erupts.

“Just teasing,” he offers. “But I think I’m ready to get hurt again. Do me the honor?”

“You are such a nuisance,” she grins, obliging his request for another kiss by slotting her lips between his. It’s sweet and chaste, but it leaves her mouth tingling long after they’ve pulled apart. Alani runs her hands through Harry’s messy hair and he hums in response, leaning into her touch. When her hand stills, he plants a soft peck to the inside of her wrist as a plea to continue. She combs through the chestnut curls while he occupies his attention with something in the cupholder between them.

“What’s this?” Harry questions, lifting the smoothie she had prepared for him earlier.

Alani glances down and chuckles to herself. “Oh, it’s for you. I knew you’d be suffering from a gnarly hangover,”

Harry’s head tilts and he grins, giving Alani a sighting of her favorite dimple. “So good to me. Don’t know what I do to deserve it,”

“Maybe hold off on the gratitude, I think it’s probably rancid now,”

He takes a polite sip and sure enough, the drink is lukewarm and barely edible. His nose instinctively scrunches with disgust, but he quickly musters an appreciative smile.

“S’lovely,”

“Liar,”

“Wanna taste?” Harry challenges, leaning in with puckered lips that Alani playfully dodges. He plants a kiss to her cheek instead, trailing down her jaw and to the side of her neck in a way that sends shivers down her spine. Her hands weave into his hair and she searches for his mouth again, but before she does, her phone rings loudly on the dashboard in front of them.

He grumbles and his head lands on her shoulder. “For fuck’s sake—”

“Sorry,” Alani apologizes, swiping the device to look at the caller ID. Her sister’s name and photo flash on the screen, so she decides to answer it. “Hello?”

Harry traces small circles on the tops of Alani’s thighs, his mind still lost in the heat of the moment while she listens to Pua’s panicked voice on the other end.

“Where are you?” Alani questions, sitting up straighter in her seat. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten,”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, brow furrowed in concern.

She collects her bearings and sighs. “Pua and her little friends got stranded at the mall because of the storm. Need me to go rescue them,”

“Can I come with?” he offers eagerly, not ready to part just yet.

“I don’t know if you really wanna be stuck with a bunch of fifteen year old-girls,” Alani laughs bitterly.

Harry shrugs and toys with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Dunno if you were aware, but fifteen year-old girls love me,”

He stops suddenly and registers the concerning undertones in his statement. “That came out wrong,”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t say that out loud,” Alani giggles with a hand cupped to his cheek. “Let’s meet up afterwards, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Harry agrees, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alani leans over and presses a light kiss to his parted mouth, indulging his request to deepen it by letting him glide his tongue over her lower lip.

“I really have to go.” she warns before pulling away reluctantly.

Harry groans, but he steals one last kiss and slips out of the car into the heavy rain.

“Be careful!” he calls over his shoulder.

Alani waits until he’s secure inside his own vehicle before driving away down the road.

********

“You’re soaking wet,”

“It’s raining,”

“And you’re blushing,”

Harry shakes his damp hair out as he strolls down the hallway towards his room, Mitch at his heels.

“So?”

“I’m assuming you fixed things with Alani, then?” his friend probes.

Harry stomach flutters at the mention of her name. “Yeah,”

Mitch rests his shoulder against the doorframe of the singer’s room and watches as he sifts through his closet and dresser.

“So why aren’t you with her right now?”

“She had to go pick up her sister, we’re meeting up later,”

“Is it official, then? I mean are you two...”

Harry rubs a hand along the back of his neck and offers a shy smile in response. “I guess so,”

“Well I’ll be damned!” his friend cheers, clapping him on the shoulder. “We have to celebrate. Jeff owes me twenty bucks,”

“Mate—”

Mitch snickers with hands raised. “Kidding! Well, sorta. I actually said that she would turn you down at first,”

Harry rolls his eyes and continues his search for the right shirt. “Ha ha. Listen, I need a favor,”

“Anything.”

“Jeff said that there’s a projector and fairy lights in the shed. I’m gonna need you to dig them out.”

********

Alani parks in front of the mall and shoots her sister a text. Within a few minutes, Pua and her three friends bolt out of the entrance and climb into her backseat.

“Buckle up,” she instructs the girls before pulling away from the curb.

“Thank you,” Pua exhales, sinking into the seat.

Alani gives her a reassuring wink and glances up to the rearview mirror to see her sister’s friends chatting giddily in the back. Her mind briefly wanders to less than an hour prior and the lingering warmth of Harry’s touch before her sister chirps up next to her.

“What happened to your neck?” she asks with her nose scrunched.

Alani’s brow creases in momentary confusion before her entire body heats up in realization. “Oh—uh, nothing,”

“Is that a—?”

“What do you guys wanna listen to?” Alani asks the backseat, avoiding her sister’s questions.

“Wait, were you with—?”

One of the girls speaks up and Alani passes the aux cord over her head. Pua narrows her eyes and a smug grin spreads across her lips.

“You were!” she accuses, hushed so her friends don’t hear.

Alani shoots her younger sister a stern look and mouths the word “don’t,” but it’s no use. Her attention is stolen when the upbeat drums of a vaguely familiar pop song fills the entire car.

“Oh you’re gonna love this one,” Pua laughs, bobbing her head along to the music that plays.

Alani feels a strange sense of familiarity in the singer’s voice, but she’s having trouble placing it. She looks over to her sister for an explanation, but Pua simply wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s your boyfriend,” she smirks.

Yeah, so tell me girl if every time we

Touch you get this kind of rush

Baby say “yeah, yeah, yeah,” yeah, yeah, yeah

If you don’t wanna take it slow

And you just wanna take me home

Baby say “yeah, yeah, yeah,” yeah, yeah, yeah

And let me kiss you

Mortification settles into the pit of Alani’s stomach, but a hint of amusement sneaks in as she pictures the various ways that she can tease Harry about this later.

“Oh my God, could you imagine kissing them?” one of the girls, a redhead with freckles, muses in the back.

“I think if I kissed Harry Styles, I could die happy.” sighs another one with round glasses.

The third girl, a slender face with a full afro, chimes in with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Do you guys think he’s a good kisser?”

“Good question,” Pua plays along, turning to her older sister. “What do you think?”

Alani’s jaw tenses and she suddenly feels flustered under the pressure. Glimpses of spearmint and vanilla flood her memory, but she suppresses them and clears her throat. “How should I know?”

Luckily, the three teenagers have already moved on from the subject and chat amongst themselves about other relevant topics.

After the last girl has been dropped off at her house, Alani turns to her sister with a glaring look.

“Before you ask—”

“Are you guys dating now?” Pua interrupts excitedly.

Alani lets out an exasperated sigh and clutches the steering wheel to ground herself. “No. Well…I don’t know,”

“How was it?” her sister poses gently, a starry look in her eye. “Was he a good kisser?”

There’s a glimmer of eagerness in Pua’s expression that makes it hard for Alani to remain serious. A bashful smile spreads across her lips as she remembers the dreamy boy awaiting her return.

“Yeah,” Alani confesses. “He was,”

“Oh my god!” her sister shrieks, enveloping her in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! This is perfect,”

Alani lets herself be excited for the first time since her feelings had been set free. Everything was still fresh and exhilarating, and while she couldn’t wrap her head around all of it, she was grateful for her sister’s enthusiasm.

“It’s new,” Alani explains, sorting through the last couple of hours. “So there’s really not much to tell,”

“But you like him?” Pua clarifies.

“Yes,”

“And he likes you?”

Alani shrugs coyly, thinking of the way that Harry had practically melted in her touch. “I think so.”

“Then what else matters?”

Pua’s words comfort the anxious turning in Alani’s stomach. If Harry feels even a sliver of the affection she has for him, then nothing else could truly ever matter in her world.

********

Harry’s towel hangs low on his hips as he steps out of the shower. Immediately, he reaches for his phone to see if there are any new messages from Alani, but he deflates when her name isn’t on the screen. He checks the time and registers that three hours have passed since they had last seen each other, though it feels like days in his mind. Quickly, he dries off and steps into a pair of black jeans and a silky red overshirt, adjusting the silver chain with a cross pendant around his neck before slipping a few rings onto his fingers to complete the look. His hair is still damp, so he runs a blowdryer over it and adds a small amount of product—still getting used to the shorter style. Harry spritzes a bit of vanilla scented cologne onto the sides of his neck and takes a deep breath to quell the pounding in his chest. He checks his phone again, but there’s still no news from Alani, so he decides to reach out first.

Harry: We still on for tonight?

He can hear ruckus emanating from the kitchen, undoubtedly the sound of his friends cooking dinner with a few drinks in their systems. His stomach rumbles when he realizes that all he’s had to eat was a sip of Alani’s warm smoothie.

Alani: Yes, sorry! Had to cook for my sister but I’m free now :)

He hums, his dinner plans most likely foiled.

Harry: I take it you’re not really hungry then?

Alani: I could eat…

Harry grins and grabs the keys from his nightstand.

Harry: Be there in fifteen xx

Fifteen minutes—that’s all Alani has to fix herself up and look somewhat presentable for Harry. She darts around her room and picks out a flowy, black mini skirt with embroidered cherries and its matching cropped tank. Her hair is still a bit messy from not combing it after her bath, so she smoothes it out with some water and curl cream, hoping for the best. She finishes her look with a swipe of red tinted lip gloss across her full lips and honey scented lotion over her skin. By the time her quick routine is complete, she still has four minutes to spare and spends them pacing her room back and forth with deep breaths. Her phone dings two minutes later and she smiles at Harry’s punctuality.

Harry: Am I allowed to meet you at your front door?

Alani’s heart melts at his consideration, so she quickly makes her way downstairs and decides to respond to him in person. Sure enough, he’s already waiting at the door with eyes wide as if he’d just been caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to.

“Wow,” Harry marvels, taking in her appearance.

“You don’t look too bad, yourself.” Alani compliments, closing the door behind her and with a step forward.

He clears his throat and offers his hand out to her, palm facing up. “Shall we?”

She accepts it happily and allows his fingers to slip between hers. They walk down the short path to the pink Cadillac waiting for them, glistening under the last bit of sunset. Harry opens her door first, then makes his way to the driver’s side before peeling out of the driveway. As they head to their mysterious dinner location, Harry’s hand wanders from the gear shift to Alani’s palm resting on her thigh. She interlocks their fingers and runs the pad of her thumb over the silver rose around his index finger, wondering all the while about its origin.

“Hey, what’s with the ring?” she decides to ask, lifting their joint hands to support her question.

“It was a gift from my mum,” Harry explains. “When I first went away on tour, she was bummed that she couldn’t be at every show to throw a rose on stage. So she gave it to me as a reminder that she’d always be cheering me on, no matter how far apart we were,”

Alani’s chest stirs at the sweet gesture, wishing suddenly that she had a face to put to the lovely woman in her mind.

“I really like that,” she comments, studying the petals and intricate details.

Harry glances over at the girl sitting in his passenger seat and thinks that he’d very much like for his mom to meet her someday, though under the right circumstances. He lifts their joined hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles.

********

As they pull into the studio, Alani immediately takes note of a giant white tarp hanging from the roof on one side of the building.

“What’s that for?” she asks curiously, stepping out of the car.

Harry offers his hand and motions for her to follow him inside. “It’s for the movie,”

“We’re watching a movie?”

“Yeah,” he smiles sheepishly. “Hope that’s okay,”

“It’s perfect,” Alani reassures him with a squeeze of his forearm.

“I had the food delivered, too. Figured we could eat while we watch,”

When Harry unlocks the door, the unmistakable scent of Alani’s favorite Italian restaurant lingers around the room. She gasps at the sight of two take-out bags from Angelo's perched on the coffee table.

“How did you…?” she trails off with her mouth hanging agape. “That’s my favorite place,”

“Ravioli with extra sauce,” Harry smirks victoriously, taking both bags and retreating back to the door. He sends a telepathic “thank you” message to Pua for the suggestion.

“Who told you?”

“A good journalist never reveals his source, you should know that,”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that we were switching professions,” Alani follows with her eyes narrowed warily.

“But don’t expect me to serenade you or anything,”

Harry chuckles and places their meals in the back seat before opening Alani’s door for her. “Not even a little tune?”

“Maybe the alphabet song if you’re lucky,”

“I’ll take it,”

“Actually,” she snaps, settling into the passenger seat as she recalls one of his songs that Pua’s friends had introduced her to. “Maybe I do have a little something for you,”

Harry’s brows shoot up eagerly. “Well let’s hear it,”

Alani clears her throat and tries to wipe the mischievous grin from her lips, but the enthusiasm behind her date’s eyes makes it difficult to execute the joke.

“Close your eyes, please,”

“Why?” Harry laughs softly, a mixture of tenderness and amusement settling on his features.

“I can’t do it with you looking at me,” Alani whines. “Just close ‘em!”

“Okay, okay, they’re closed,”

“No peeking,”

“Yeah, yeah,”

Alani takes a deep breath and tries to remember the tune that had been stuck in her head all afternoon.

“So tell me girl if every time we tou-ou-ouch, you get this kind of ru-u-ush,”

Harry’s eyes fly open and she can hardly contain her laughter, but she continues despite his interjections.

“What’re you—?”

“If you don’t wanna take it slow and you just wanna take me home—”

“Is that—?”

“Baby say ‘yeah, yeah, yeah,’ yeah, yeah, and let me kiss you—”

“Where did you—?”

“You’re not even listening!” Alani teases through a fit of laughter. “I’m trying to dazzle you with my angelic singing, here,”

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes, his voice lowered as he leans in closer. “Please, continue,”

Alani drapes her arms around his neck and sighs. “That’s all I’ve got, sorry,”

“So much for ‘not a fan,’ huh?”

“It was my sister’s friends—”

“—Sure—”

“—It’s true!” Alani sustains with a playful shove. “You should’ve seen how swoony they got over you, it was kinda cute actually,”

Harry brushes a stray eyelash from her cheek and his mouth turns up softly at the edges. “I see,”

“They were wondering if you’re a good kisser, you know, because of the song and everything,”

“And…”

“And?”

“Well what’s the verdict?”

“I don’t know,” Alani ponders shyly, feigning indecisiveness. “I think I need to refresh my memory.”

Harry head shakes gently with his lower lip caught between his wide grin. He takes a minute to lightly graze the curve of her jaw with his thumb in an effort to convince himself that he isn’t, in fact, dreaming before he connects their mouths. Alani weaves one hand into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck while the other keeps his palm anchored securely to the side of her face. She had never known a touch so warm or soft; so intoxicating, so safe. It was like an extension of her own body—a familiarity that she had unknowingly craved all along. And with a single kiss, every remaining brick in their emotional fortresses comes crumbling down, trampled under foot like sand. If the eyes were the window to the soul, then their lips were the door: inviting, welcoming, begging the other person to stay forever and evermore.

Their foreheads meet as they reluctantly pull apart for air; the only sound is their synchronized breathing. The sun had sunken into the sea, but twinkling lights strung across a row of palm trees leaves them in a canopy of golden light.

“So I think it’s safe to say,” Alani begins softly. “Ten out of ten would kiss again,”

Harry’s head bobs, interlocking their fingers. “I have to agree,”

The whirring of the movie projector disrupts their thoughts and turns their attention towards the screen. Alani’s eyes widen, curious to see what film Harry has chosen for the night.

“Forgot that I put it on a timer,” he confesses.

“Be My Baby” by The Ronettes starts over the speakers propped next to their car and Alani immediately recognizes the intro to her all-time favorite movie.

“Dirty Dancing?” she cries, turning to him with an elated tug on his arm. “No way!”

Harry reaches for the food behind them, but keeps an eye on her to relish in the excitement. “Yes way, had to see what all the fuss was about.”

“You won’t regret it, promise.”

Alani slips her shoes off and hugs her knees to her chest, eyes falling from the screen ahead to Harry beside her. He was constantly finding new ways to exceed her expectations, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he raised the bar to unimaginable heights. She wonders what life would be like if he hadn’t stumbled into the café and imagines all the other ways that their paths would have unintentionally crossed, unaware of the bliss that could exist between them. Luckily, Alani will never have to live in a world of such ignorance, a world where Harry’s name doesn’t fall from her tongue as naturally as her own.

********

“I would have carried that watermelon for you,”

“How romantic,”

“And I bet we could do that lift,”

“Not a chance,” Alani giggles lightly. “Don’t get any ideas,”

Harry exhales a defeated breath, running the back of his knuckles over Alani’s legs draped across his lap.

“Why not?”

“They probably practiced that for months and had Jennifer Grey rigged up to a wire or something,”

“Nah,” Harry contests. “That’s just what they want you to think so that you don’t try and upstage the actors. Happens all the time in Hollywood,”

Alani’s head turns. “Oh really? And you would know that because…?”

“Music industry, movies, it’s all the same,”

“Sure. So what did you think of the movie? It’s okay if you didn’t love it as much as The Notebook,”

Harry’s head leans against his fist as he studies Alani’s expectant eyes, deep umber and shining in the dim light overhead. They’re the same pigment as the soil after rain and full of just as much vitality. He’d never really had a favorite color, but he suddenly wanted to own every item in exactly the same shade of brown.

“No, you were right,” he yields. “It’s way better,”

Alani curls into Harry’s side and her cheek rests against his shoulder. “Knew you’d like it,”

“You know me well,”

“I have a question for you,” she poses lightly.

Harry presses a kiss to her hairline before his chin settles on the crown of her head. “Shoot,”

“How did you do all of this on such short notice?”

The task hadn’t been easy; it involved multiple bribes to each of his friends, though they would have done it for free, and a top secret phone call with Pua. The projector in the studio’s shed that exclusively played DVDs nearly threw a wrench in his entire plan, but Jeff volunteered to search every store on the island for a copy of Dirty Dancing until he emerged from the fourth shop triumphantly. Harry had even hunted down the Angelo from Alani’s favorite restaurant and convinced him to make her raviolis from scratch. He wanted everything to be perfect down to the most minute detail; after all, the girl that he had planned it all for would be.

“With a little help from my friends,” he hums in the key of The Beatles.

“Well,” Alani sighs with a feathery kiss to his cheek. “Best first date in the history of first dates,”

“Couldn’t agree more,”

“What was your worst first date?” she pries with a curious wiggle of her brows.

Harry lifts his head to the glittery night sky above and thinks for a moment before an unpleasant memory resurfaces and makes his nose scrunch.

“Year ten. There was this girl I really fancied and I practically begged her all term to go out with me,” he laughs lightly. “So she agreed on the very last day of school. A friend of hers was having this party that night and she invited me to tag along. I was so nervous, but you know, things were alright. Well, she disappeared randomly in the middle of the party to go get a drink or something, and when I went to look for her, I caught her making out with some other guy,”

Alani frowns. “I’m so sorry, that’s awful,”

“It’s alright,” Harry chuckles, unaffected. “Wasn’t meant to be. What about you?”

“Probably my freshman year of college,” Alani contemplates. “I was supposed to meet up with this guy that a friend had set me up with. But he was, like, an hour late to the restaurant and didn’t even seem to notice. Then we saw some boring action movie with exploding cars and he was texting on his phone the whole time. I left the theater to ‘go to the bathroom’ and never went back,”

Harry smirks. “Good for you! Sounds like a prick,”

“I honestly don’t know how he didn’t see it coming, I took the bag of popcorn with me,”

“Well it all worked out in my favor, so maybe I should say cheers to the poor sucker,”

Alani raises her bottle of cherry coke to the night sky. “Cheers to terrible first dates!”

“Maybe don’t say that so loud,” Harry suggests with a small laugh. “People might get the wrong idea,”

“Cheers to terrible first dates and this most excellent one!” she corrects.

“Cheers!”

“I feel like there should be some big musical number and end credits now,”

Harry glances over with a peculiar look in the corner of his eye. “I have an idea,”

“What is it?” Alani questions skeptically.

“Two words: the lift,”

“No!”

“Come on! Please?”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself. Or me,”

“I won’t,” Harry promises with puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

Alani mulls it over, unable to ignore the kiss that he peppers to her shoulder. “Fine.”

********

“Just bend your needs and jump. I’ll catch you!”

Alani’s toes dig into the sand and her fists clench. Eight feet away at the opposite end of the beach, Harry stands with his arms open and back tall.

“I’m scared,”

“Don’t be, I’ve got you,”

She takes a deep breath through her nose and exhales out her mouth. Her feet pick up into a jog, then a sprint, and her arms fly out on Harry’s command. Alani leaps and her hands find his shoulders, but she doesn’t get enough air for him to execute the lift. His arms brace her backside as her legs tangle around his waist, but he maintains his balance.

“See! Gotcha,”

“Did I do it?”

“No,” Harry laughs, highly amused. “But almost! Try again,”

“Harry, I don’t think this is gonna work,”

“Yes it will, love, I believe in you,”

He kisses her nose and sets her back down, running an additional eight feet back. Alani huffs, but she jogs lightly again and springs into the air. Her abdominal muscles tighten in an attempt to strengthen her balance, but she wobbles and clings to Harry with a shriek. He stumbles a few inches and lets out a belly laugh.

“See, that was better!”

“It was not!”

“At least your legs made it in the air that time,”

“Okay,” Alani pants lightly. “You had your fun,”

“One more try,”

“Harry—”

“Just one!” he pleads. “This is gonna be the one, I can feel it,”

Alani’s eyes pinch shut, but she remembers all of the hard work and sweet gestures that Harry had poured into this date. So much thought had been given to every miniscule detail in the hopes of making it a night that she would never forget. The least she could do was humor him.

“Okay. Let’s go,”

“You’ve got it!”

Her heart pounds with determination as Harry beckons her to join him at the other end. She counts down under her breath before taking off at full speed, feeling the exertion of every muscle in her body. Alani plants her feet directly under her knees and hips, shooting straight up with her arms rooted firmly on Harry’s shoulders. Her heels lift higher and higher off the ground as if they were attached to a string and anchored to the moon. In her mind, she is as graceful as Baby Houseman herself, but the reality is far less picturesque. Harry’s hand slips and he staggers backward; his arms instinctively tighten around Alani’s waist and he brings her body flush with his to break her fall. A grunt escapes his lips as his back meets the sand with a thud, but he manages to crack a smile through his pained expression.

“Oh my God!” Alani cries, immediately sitting up. “Are you okay?”

Harry releases a slow, shaky breath. “‘M fine,”

“Are you hurt?”

“Just a bruised ego,”

She brushes the curls out of his face and holds back a giggle to no avail. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny,”

“Actually,” Harry coughs, slowly regaining his composure. “It kind of is,”

“We really almost had it that time.”

“S’not as easy as it looks.”

Alani’s head meets the sand parallel to Harry’s and her hand settles on his chest. She watches the rise and fall of his breathing for a moment before her eyes trail up to his. As if the entire night hadn’t already convinced her, this very moment dispels any lingering, microscopic doubt that choosing Harry had been the right decision. It was hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, Alani had no idea how he felt about her or where they stood. But now, under the full moon and shining stars, Harry looks at her as if she is the only view worth admiring and it tells her more than any word ever could.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #one direction #one direction fanfic #ybmh

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Note

wow! that's an amazing list. “i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met”

A continuation of other tumblr prompts I’ve made into a fic - here

Hopefully chapter four will be the end lolol this fic has been far longer than I intended it to be.

---

Kagome stared out at passing scenery beyond her window with a glazed look dulling her eyes. Heavy thoughts carried her attention far away from the mundane train ride. She hadn't visited Kyoto in years, and especially not for such a special reason before.

Shippo's voice had sounded so strange on the phone. Mature, but not overly deep, maintaining its playfulness. He'd invited her over for a visit right away.

A 'bing!' noise roused her enough to check her phone- which showed a picture of Natsuki posing with a spear and fresh kill.

Kagome snorted, resting her chin on her knuckles. There were a few things about Natsuki that she was surprised Sesshoumaru hadn't commented on.

Number one; her boyfriend was a demon.

And number two; he was, specifically, an inuyoukai. A mongrel. She imagined Sesshoumaru felt mighty smug to know she'd found a demon of the same species as him to date. Natsuki being of mixed breeding surely made the Daiyouki feel all the more superior.

But Kagome had never cared about such things. She'd loved Inuyasha once, too.

The short version of their 'getting together' just two months prior was that she'd located a demon bar a few years ago and had been dating youkai ever since, using the place as a means to meet them. The relief of finding the secret den of long-forgotten youkai had been unparalleled. Kagome now knew exactly how to locate and see through glamorous thanks to years of experience.

She'd found out through the process of elimination that humans just kind of...weren't enough for her. Kagome needed the youki, the rush- the bite of claws, talons or fangs.

Natsuki was one of many in a long line of potential 'forever' partners, but Kagome had long since stopped expecting marriage down the line. If they lasted, that was fine. If not, that was fine too.

She had resolved never to fall hard for someone again.

Natsuki left Tokyo a few days prior to go on a hunting trip with his pack in a remote location up in the mountains, a monthly tradition.

'Can you skip it this time?' Kagome had asked. 'I'd just...really like it if you could come to Kyoto with me?'

'But I don't know your fox friend.'

'Doesn't matter- he hasn't seen me in 500 years. I would feel so much better if you were there.'

Natsuki looked as though she'd spat in his breakfast. 'Ah, uh-' he ran an awkward hand through his light-brown hair. 'I guess?'

The hesitancy and look in his eyes- begging to be let off the hook- made Kagome force a smile and drop the subject.

She sighed, figuring they'd probably break up soon. There wasn't really anything wrong with their relationship, just a difference in values and priorities.

It seemed to be the norm. No huge fight. No big dramatic breakup. Usually she even stayed friends with her exes.

Sesshoumaru was the outlier in all things.

She made certain not to tell the Daiyoukai of her impending singleness. If he was irritatingly optimistic now- Kagome imagined he'd be a nightmare to shake off if she were available.

But he'd stop if I outright told him to never speak to me again.

Her lips thinned, stomach turning at the mere thought.

For the rest of the journey, she resolved not to think about him. And failed miserably.

----

Shippo had greeted her at the door with an enormous hug the second she'd arrived at his hilltop home. Brilliant red hair had grown longer, swept back into a ponytail. Since his house perched a little further out from most of the houses, he wore no glamour. The pointed ears and foxtails- five of them- Kagome counted, were on full display.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she hugged him back fiercely.

His wife was pleasant, though a little eccentric for a racoon youkai. She'd made a 'welcome' banner and everything for Kagome's arrival.

Three young kits with dark circle markings around their eyes raced around the house- which had crayon drawings sprawled all over the walls at waist-height. Shippo and his wife seemed to have given up on house maintenance, but they were a happy family.

Blue eyes softened as Kagome sat with him in the relative privacy of his art studio. She was so pleased he'd found happiness. As they talked, she bent down- reaching into her bag for her phone to show him some pictures of her workplace- only for it to tip over.

A small bottle of pills rolled out, stopping by his foot.

Kagome paled. She glanced away from his questioning look as he handed them back to her. "Reiki suppression pills?" he asked.

"How'd you know?"

"I've got friends in Tokyo. You're not the only priestess who secretly dates demons," he shrugged, pinning her with a calculating look. "But, it's kind of a shame you feel the need to take them."

Kagome forced a smile, tucking them away, "yeah well- it's because I'm so big and strong," she joked. "I haven't met a demon in Tokyo who could withstand my aura if I really let it out. Taking these is easier. Gives demons the 'flavour' of dating a miko without actually getting burned. It just thins my powers a little."

Shippo nodded in acceptance and swiftly changed topics since it made her uncomfortable. He chattered on about his life, detailing the 500 year gap between when they'd seen each other last. Apparently, after Miroku and Sango had passed, he'd taken to spending more time with Sesshoumaru. When Inuyasha had died, he'd started living with the Daiyoukai permanently.

"You...did?"

He nodded, hands wrapped around his steaming mug of tea. A handmade bracelet clasped around his wrist, and the mug was half-melted, made from clay. Clearly they'd both been crafted by three well-meaning kids. "I guess we were gonna talk about him eventually," he smirked. "I promise not to be biased, okay? Sure, he saved my ass, but you're still my favourite."

Warmth flooded her heart, and Kagome giggled a little despite herself. "You're talking like we're your divorced parents or something," she mused, sobering. Taking a long breath, she stared at her own misshapen mug. "What happened?" she asked quietly. "Why didn't he create a pure-blooded heir?"

Shippo sighed, sweeping a hand through voluminous red hair. "He chased after you pretty much a second after you left through the well. Only he couldn't get through."

Her chest tightened, body stiffening.

"He's told me before though...that regretting what happened wouldn't have been enough, and maybe it was better he didn't stop you. He still felt the same at the time, deep down; that only a pure-blooded heir should take over the Western Lands to ensure he was survived by a long-living heir. He was gonna do it," Shippo muttered. "He was prepared to lay with an inuyoukai to produce an heir, but when the time came he just...couldn't. It frustrated him for a long time."

Kagome took a sip of her lukewarm tea, lips thinning. "He could've taken a mate. It didn't have to be some random woman."

"Heh, yeah but his inuyoukai instincts had already chosen a mate," Shippo winked at her. "And no matter how much he tried to force logic onto himself, his instincts refused to budge. You weren't dead, so in his mind, he couldn't move on. He's remained your captive all this time."

Her eyes widened, swallowing. "That sounds terrible!" she burst, frowning. "What the hell...I'd resent that. Why doesn't he hate me?"

"Hard to explain but...he could have moved on, Kagome," the kit sighed. "If he really wanted to. He's the one who lacked the desire to change how he felt about you. So, despite some relationships, Sesshoumaru has pretty much maintained his bachelor lifestyle."

Kagome stood from her seat, setting down her tea and distractedly looking at Shippo's art pieces, picking up a sketchbook and flipping through it.

Sharp green eyes searched her guarded features. "You're still in love with him, right?"

"Some habits are hard to kick," she said softly, pausing on one sketch. Her vision grew blurry.

Shippo rose and swept the shuddering miko into a hug before she could drop the sketch of Sango and Miroku. He held her for a long time, and they moved on to talking about their friends. About all the things they'd done and the happiness they'd shared.

"M-maybe I...left too quickly," Kagome mumbled, wiping at her wet cheeks.

"Nah, don't get that thought stuck in your head," Shippo rested a hand on her head, gently ruffling the dark strands. "You wanted distance between you and Sesshoumaru. It's not your fault the well shut."

"Why did..." swallowing thickly, she looked up at him, oddly feeling like a child in comparison to his steady, easy-going presence. Like nothing in the world could shock or frighten the little kit anymore. "It took him 6 years to come talk to me, why is that?"

Shippo's smile turned slightly sad. "He wouldn't want me to tell you. In fact, he'd kill me for giving you this-" Shippo reached into his pocket and took out a vial.

Kagome understood what it was almost immediately, accepting the glamour with a perplexed look.

He then scribbled down the name of a random park in Tokyo she hadn't visited before, handing it over with a smirk. "Put that glamour on and visit this park on either Tuesday or Thursday, weather permitting. You'll find him near the duck pond."

She arched a brow, eyeing the vial. "He'll recognise me, even with a glamour on."

"Nah, that's my own creation- and I'm pretty darn brilliant at magic now!" he puffed out his chest, tilting his chin up in a very Sesshoumaru-like manner. Shippo then smiled warmly, taking the sketchbook and tearing out a page. "He's not being honest with you, but it's not outta nefarious purposes. You'll see," he reassured her. "He's changed. Even if he's still an asshole."

Kagome accepted the page, freezing. Her fingers stiffened, emotion clogging her throat at all the implications that came with the picture. She couldn't help but cry again in the safety of Shippo's arms- promptly bursting into tears while on the train ride home too.

Shippo's sketch remained clutched in her hands.

The weight of so much wasted time rested upon her heavily, making the woman bend low in her seat, ignoring the stares of other passengers and letting out several years of loneliness and disappointment. How her skin had ached and burned up with a fever of remembrance- straining for a demon lord to take her wrists and kiss her palms like he once had.

---

Overcast skies blocked out the sunshine that Tuesday, so she wondered if he'd show. The glamour had made her look like a 40-year old, a few grey streaks in her magically short hair. Brown eyes stared back at her instead of blue. She smelled like lavender and home cooking. Kagome sat upon a bench and pretended to read beside the duck pond. An available bench sat further away, nearer to the empty play park.

It was there that a dark-haired man eventually sat, five children having followed him. A lanky teen took a seat next to him, his hair short and grey- eyes milky white with blindness. Kagome squinted from behind her book, sensing he was a snake youkai. Two young hanyous of differing species immediately ran to the play park, squealing. One had concealed horns, the other hiding their leopard spots behind a glamour.

A human girl around the age of 11 carried a toddler to the edge of the duck pond, talking quietly with him and pointing to the ducks.

Kagome held back the hot sting of tears, forcing her gaze to the book in her hands and robotically turning a page.

"Shinto needs to get out of his room," the snake youkai was muttering sourly.

"There is little I can do. Did you wish for me to carry him kicking and screaming to the park with us?" Sesshoumaru snorted, elbows bent to rest on his knees.

Kagome glanced at him furtively from the corner of her eye.

Gone was the easy confidence he'd presented to her during their encounters- the impeccable dress-sense and untouchable air of a bachelor. He looked like a mess. Or rather, a single parent struggling to juggle too much at once. He wore a jacket that had seen better days, hair dishevelled and slight lines under his eyes.

"Maybe that would've been better," his adopted child was muttering, soon sighing and glancing to the side as Sesshoumaru toyed with his phone. "Do you even have her number?"

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, feigning ignorance. "Hm?"

"You know who I am referring to. Just ask for it from Uncle Shippo."

Dark lashes lowered, followed by a rich, silky chuckle that made Kagome's skin warm. "Such underhanded methods, Hiroji," he teased, "no wonder you're not popular with women."

Hazy eyes gazed in his general direction flatly, huffing. "Please refrain from trying to dodge the question. Have you actually asked this 'Kagome' woman out yet?"

"I invited her to coffee."

"Such a cheap date, Papa!" the human girl by the duck pond smiled, carrying her brother back to them. "Couldn't you have invited her ice-skating, or to a fancy restaurant?"

"Or to the park!" one of the Hanyous yelled from the swings.

Sesshoumaru cut his eyes to grey skies fondly, accepting the toddler from his daughter. "The location does not matter. Miss Higurashi is not easily swayed," he uttered, large hands toying with little boots. The toddler giggled, kicking his legs. "Initially, I wished to bury her with gifts, but she would merely see that as an attempt to 'buy' her. No, I sense only a display of humility and regret will soften her opinion of me, however that seems quite impossible."

"Hm? Why's that?" his daughter asked.

"Because I do not wish to use you all as an example of my having 'changed.' It would feel as though you are mere tools for my redemption," brown eyes slid away. "My mindset altered gradually over the centuries. No large thing triggered it. I know of no other way to prove myself other than introducing her to you."

Kagome could tell by the twitching of his fingers and the way he kept brushing them over his jaw absentmindedly that he was itching for a drag of his pipe. She'd wondered if he still occasionally smoked. He must've decided not to around his children.

"Sounds like heavy stuff," the girl hummed, patting his shoulder in consolation. "Can't you just say-" she cleared her throat, voice deepening into a poor imitation of Sesshoumaru's- "Miko, I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met. Fall into my arms~"

Deep brown eyes flattened, and he playfully shoved a hand into her face. "Things are not so easily fixed, Akiko."

"I see. Well, don't worry! If it doesn't work out, we can all go ice-skating instead!"

Sesshoumaru tsked, sinking back into his seat and allowing the toddler to snuggle up on his chest. "How dull. I'd much prefer to go on a date with a beautiful woman than babysit you brats."

Akiko only giggled and whined good-naturedly, calling him a 'meanie' before running off to join the Hanyous on the swings.

Left in silence, the Daiyoukai's brows knitted together, thoughts clearly far away.

Mild concern softened Hiroji's boyish features. "You should try talking to her again," he said quietly, so faintly Kagome could barely hear it.

"Hn, and why is that?"

Shifting, the snake demon glanced sightlessly in Kagome's direction- causing her blood to freeze in her veins. "I suspect she may be more receptive to speaking with you now, that is all. Call it a hunch."

Stiff shoulders slowly relaxed upon realising he wasn't going to expose her. After a few minutes, Kagome rose from her spot and slipped away from the park.

In the comfort of her own apartment, Kagome gazed at the sketch Shippo had given her; Sesshoumaru sleeping without a glamour obscuring his exotic features. Resting on mokomoko, his knees, and the crook of his arm were children, different from the ones at the park, but just as mixed in species.

It implied he'd been adopting them for centuries. What had started with Rin all those years ago- the accidental adoption of his first child, had become a long-enduring habit. And it also gave Kagome the stupid, insidious idea that maybe he wanted hanyou children now. Maybe he wanted them with her.

And that was too dangerous a thought to linger on if she was incorrect.

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Asks

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