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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Two)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, oc is a bad friend:(, sexual tension (?), body image issues, oc is feeling a lil insecure, mentions of sex, sounds of sex, crying, male masturbation, fantasy includes: spanking and vaginal intercourse.

Notes: thanks for the love for the first part…heres part 2! I hope everyone enjoys:) get ready for drama to come hahaha. If you wanted to be added to the taglist just send me an ask or whatevs, and feel free to send one if you want to discuss the story!

Taglist: @monvieesdaebak @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i

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Gentleman: “A civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man.” Is how the dictionary defines the word but if you were to look up the term in your own dictionary it would just be a picture of Taehyung’s handsome as hell face.

Opening the car door, pulling your chair out, holding your hand, softly gripping your waist, making you feel like the only one in the room—Taehyung is doing everything right. Your mind should be overwhelmed with the thought of Taehyung. He should be filling your every sense, he should be the only thing you can understand. He should be. But every time his perfect lips land on the skin of your cheek, your mind somehow finds Jungkook. That son of a bitch.

There’s a string of warm lights dangling on the restaurants brick walls, and it’s almost picture perfect but one of the bulbs is out and it’s making the scene less ideal. Your eyes keep going back to the one bulb that refuses to shine. You just want everything to be perfect.

“I know I already told you…” Taehyung is sitting across from you, his gentle smile making your heart flutter, “But you look so pretty tonight.”

You know you should be gazing into his chocolate eyes but you can’t keep your eyes from shifting towards that stupid ass bulb. All the other bulbs are lit up just fucking fine but this bulb wants to be difficult. It just hasto go against everyone else. Your eyes narrow at the string of lights and you scoff. This stupid bulb reminds you of someone.

Taehyung brought you to a decently fancy restaurant, the food is alright but he says the main attraction is the monster baked cookie with ice cream melting over the top. He is excited like a child at the mention of his favorite dessert, you can’t help but smile fondly towards him.

“So…” Taehyung slides the dessert closer to you, “I never asked but how did Jungkook take the whole not really talking in public thing?”

Your eyes shoot up to the stupid bulb and you blink at it a few times. “I…” Your gaze drifts back to him. “I didn’t tell him.”

Taehyung drops his napkin at the news, his eyes slightly widening as he processes your words.

“We just aren’t talking right now.”

You wince as the words leave your mouth, but it’s true. You are a coward who is just ignoring her best friend because you don’t have the balls to face him. You don’t have the balls to forgive him and you definitely don’t have the balls to inform him that he’s out of the picture for a month. Because you don’t have the balls to admit to yourself you chose a boy over your friend. Basically you’re just a bitch with no balls!

“Yeah, he isn’t really talking to me either.” Taehyung chuckles bitterly, “He’s really against this…I mean, I knew he was protective over you but—”

“Protective my ass.” You lean back in your chair, “He’s just being stupid.”

Taehyung looks at you and frowns. It makes you want to kiss his pouting lips.

“But thank you.”

Taehyung’s quizzical expression makes you snort,

“For the compliment. Thank you. You look really handsome as well.” You smile, your hand sliding across the table to hold his. You gently squeeze and pull back, letting go. Taehyung smiles at you but something strange settles in his eyes. He’s struck with an awkward expression as he forces another smile, his lips pulled together tightly.

“Thanks y/n” He opens his mouth then closes then opens, “For doing this. Seriously, thank you.”

“Well, you’re kind of supplying me with free coffee.” You laugh into your hand.

“Regardless,” Taehyung leans back in his chair, “You’re a good friend.”

Right. Friend... But you feel optimistic you will flee this place! The god forsaken friend zone! You smile at Taehyung, grabbing your fork and cutting into the cookie with it. You stare into Taehyung’s dark eyes as you bring the fork to your lips—okay yes, you are most definitely trying to make this sexy—you open your mouth wide and wrap you lips around the piece of cookie, you never break contact with Taehyung. You chew slowly and roll your eyes to the back of your head, like the dramatic ass bitch you are. You open an eye to see his reaction, you see him gulp and a small smile begins forming on his lips.

“mmm” you moan again.

“RIGHT?!”

~~~

“We got some pretty insta worthy photos!” Taehyung chuckles into your hair as he pulls back from the hug. “I would say tonight was a success!”

Right. A success. Because this is all for show. To get this Anna girl off his back. Not because he likes you or anything. You can’t help but feel disappointed in his words.

“That’s good Tae.” Your hands linger on his back, not wanting to let go completely. “I’ll see you tomorrow right?”

“And the next day and the next day,” he teases, “And don’t forget this weekend is the pool party at my friend Jin’s house.” Then Taehyung nibbles on his lips, “Jungkook is going…so you should probably talk to him.”

You probably should of figured Jungkook is going to go…but that doesn’t stop you from feeling shocked. You should tell him he needs to lay low in public for a month but you guys aren’t talking already so do you really have to have that discussion with him?

“We’ll see.”

Taehyung steps forward and grabs your hand, “y/n…I know I said no Jungkook but I really just meant that you two aren’t all over each other in public…you don’t have to ignore him at home too…I’m sure he isn’t feeling great about it. And honestly, it makes me feel guilty too.” He admits softly, his hand feels sweaty in yours.

“He’s an asshole.” You let go of his hand, you feel your chest tighten and you hate yourself.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I should get inside now.”

“Okay…” Taehyung leans in for another quick hug and places a kiss on your forehead. You wish you could enjoy it but on the other side of this forehead are thoughts of Jungkook. Once again, that son of a bitch.

~~~

The next few days pass quickly, you and Taehyung have gone on two more dates.

The second date felt like a movie—it was classic and dreamy. Taehyung picked you up and drove you over to the next town that was having a carnival. You walked around holding hands, eating cotton candy and laughing at his jokes. The night ended with the ferris wheel, where you two got some insta worthy pictures—one shot including his lips on yours.

It felt so surreal. He posted it on Instagram that night with the caption ‘Her’ with purple hearts and within a couple hours there were at least 50 comments congratulating the two of you.

Third date you two went to a drive in theater. You fed each other popcorn, talked over the radio’s audio and took snaps to prove your date to the world.

This week has been nothing short of amazing. Taehyung is absolutely perfect. You feel like the only girl in the world with him. Like you don’t have to compete with anyone. Unfortunately, the week may have felt amazing on the outside, on the inside it’s been…weird.

The weird part of this week is the lack of Jungkook. Your usual cereal at noon on Tuesdays didn’t happen, your usual weekly episode of My Hero didn’t happen, your usual chit chat and banter didn’t occur. Just silence and awkward passes.

It’s all your doing though…Jungkook has tried. He still sat at the breakfast table munching on Apple Jacks while you passed him by, walking out your front door to meet Taehyung. He saved this week’s episode to your list so you could watch it. He has sent you multiple texts saying he’s sorry and he misses you but you ignored them. You have purposely started putting a distance between the two of you and it makes you uncomfortable.

You remind yourself that, besides doing this because Taehyung requested it, it is also for the best.

~~~

You sit at the edge of your bed staring at the bouquet of flowers Taehyung had sent you this morning. You eye the flowers, taking in their gorgeous appearance. They’re open and full and colorful. But why do you look at them and feel disappointed?

They seem to be begging for water, so you stand to your feet and grab the bouquet. You head for the kitchen to find your mothers crystal vase so you can place the beautiful flowers in it.

Jungkook is sitting at the breakfast table, slurping on some noodles and playing on his phone. You completely ignore him as you walk into the kitchen.

You stand on your tip toes to try to reach the vase in the cupboard but it’s too high for you. God damn it, you think. There’s no way in hell you’re asking Jungkook for help, no way in hell!

*about 10 pathetic seconds later*

“Jungkook, will you help me?”

You don’t even turn around to face him, you just raise your voice so hears you. Yeah, you’re a coward. You hear the screech of the chair against the tiled floor and you shiver. Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he walks up behind you, his chest coming flush against your back and you swear if he tried to pay attention he could probably feel your heartbeat through the contact. You stay frozen as he reaches his arms above you and grabs the vase. He must of just done laundry because his detergent fills your nostrils, its clean and refreshing. He sets the vase down on the counter and he continues to stand closely behind you, his scent now overwhelming your senses.

“These flowers are pretty.” He leans down to say in your ear. His hand coming down to hold on to your waist. “But you only like tulips.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “These are fine too.”

“Yeah, they are.” He admits. “But they’re not what you want.” He squeezes your waist, then he’s backing away from your body and a chill is left behind as he gets further away. It’s like the further he walks away from you the colder you become. As if Jungkook is the source of your warmth.

~~~

It’s Saturday afternoon and you are finally done getting ready. Taehyung is taking you out to a pool party today, hosted by one of his close friends—Jim? No, Jin. You know you’ve heard Jungkook talk about him before but haven’t gotten the chance to meet him since he’s a bit older and already graduated.

You look in the mirror as you tug your oversized shirt over your shorts. Underneath is a plain black bikini but unfortunately today is not a good day—you’re bloated as hell and it shows. At least you think it does. You continue to rate yourself in the mirror when Jungkook walks past your room.

“Didn’t know you were so self obsessed.” He pops in to say.

You turn to face him and as soon as he sees your frustrated expression he knows you’re on the verge of waterworks.

“Woah woah, whats wrong?” Jungkook is quick to rush to your side. You’ve been ignoring him for a week yet he still rushes to you when you need him. You’re a god damn bitch.

“I feel fat but I have a pool party to attend to and—”

“You’re going to that too…?” Jungkook eyes the ground under his feet. He sounds disappointed.

You try to steady your breathing but you feel a breakdown coming and Jungkook can sense it too.

“You’re not fat.” He states plainly.

“You wouldn’t know with these clothes I’m wearing.” You try to reason.

“Then take them off and show me.” He’s obviously aware of the bathing suit underneath but still, his words do something strange to you.

“No, I’m ugly.” Is all you respond with.

“y/n I don’t have time for this, either show me or like, don’t go.”

“Fine!”

You begin unbuttoning your shorts, painfully slow. He watches as you fumble with the zipper as you slide it down. You drag the shorts down your legs one by one and then you reach for the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. This leaves you half naked and feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Jungkook eyes you up and down quite shamelessly. His tongue darts out to lick his lip and he muffles a groan,

“You look fine.” He says so nonchalantly it makes you want to pull his hair out.

“Just fine?”

“You look good y/n” he says, his eyes sliding to the left. You don’t feel quite satisfied with his answer so you step towards him, getting so close he is forced to step back until his back is against the wall.

“How good?” you say, your voice dipping lower than usual, “So good you would—"

Bbbrrrr bbbrrrr bbrrrrr bbrrrr

Your phone.

“Hello? ….Hey Tae. No need, I’ll just meet you at your car. Okay, bye.” You click the phone off and throw it on your bed. You gather your clothes and put them back on as Jungkook stands there awkwardly. Once you have your things you turn to face Jungkook.

“Well Tae is here…” you motion towards the door. “Look, if you’re going to be at the party can you try to…respect my fake relationship? We wanna make it as real as poss—”

“I get it.” Jungkook snaps before walking out your bedroom. Fantastic.

~~~

“And this is y/n.” Taehyung pushes you forward by the shoulders as you stumble in front of all these new faces.

“Hi everyone.” You squeak out.

Everyone gives you a warm welcome, many handshakes and hugs later you feel well acquainted. You notice a familiar face. He’s laughing with Jin over some beers and you smile in their direction. Namjoon, a friend you met freshmen year. He notices you look in his direction and he waves you over. So you walk towards him and Jin, Namjoon handing you a drink as you get closer.

“Long time no see y/n!” his dimples light up the entire backyard. He glances between you and Taehyung, who is chatting with some others.

“You and our Taehyungie, huh?” He grins at you, “honestly, I thought you would end up with Jungkook.” You can’t help but blush at that. A real deep blush. Namjoon chuckles but his eyes hold pity.

“no no not Jungkook.” You laugh awkwardly.

“Well, Jungkook has always spoken really highly of you so I am sure Taehyung is a lucky guy.” Jin chimes in.

For some reason you feel sick at that. Jungkook speaks highly of you? Yet here you are ignoring him for another guy. You are avoiding your own best friend because of a boy. Fuck, you are the worst.

“thanks guys…well, I’m gonna go see Tae.”

You walk over to Taehyung, and when he spots you he absolutely lights up. His boxy grin taking over his entire face.

“There’s my girl,” he pulls you in for a hug and places a kiss to your head. You want to melt, you want to feel the lava of love drown you but instead you feel anxious as you notice Jungkook from across the yard. He’s got a beer to his lips and his eyes on you.

“Thanks for doing this y/n.” Taehyung also catches the pair of eyes watching the two of you. He meets Jungkook’s hard gaze and automatically Taehyung is filled with anxiety as well. Jungkook just shakes his head towards his friend and takes a generous sip of his drink.

“Everything okay?” you ask, squeezing his hand in yours.

“Everything is fine.” He says with a tight lip smile. “Just glad you’re here.” He says honestly.

A few hours pass, and the whole gang is crowded in the pool. Mostly everyone is drunk, but you are pretty sober. Not wanting a repeat of last weekend. Yikes, amirite ladies? Taehyung has his hands all over you, which you don’t really mind. The thought of him touching you was once something that might make you faint but you’ve grown comfortable. Your eyes scan the pool when you notice Jungkook is nowhere to be found. Did he go home already? Maybe he was feeling so down because you’ve been ignoring him…god, you hate yourself. You just need to talk to him. You’re a shitty friend, for sure.

“I’m gonna be right back,” you whisper to Taehyung. He only nods his head and continues chatting with his friends.

Jin’s house is beyond nice, and also huge. You are trying to find the bathroom but feel like you are opening every door but the one you’re looking for. There’s only one door left at the end of the main hall and you bet your entire ass it’s the bathroom. You reach for the door knob when you hear something muffled on the other side. Oh, it’s taken.

“Thanks for this.” It’s a woman’s voice.

“No problem.” Its Jungkook. You feel your stomach drop. What makes you feel worse is how detached Jungkook sounds. He sounds far away and broken. The doorknob begins to rattle and you try to make a run for it in time but are too late. The door is swinging open and one of Jin’s friends is walking out and in the background you see Jungkook zipping up his pants. His eyes meet yours and you want to run the fuck away.

“y/n?” Jungkook’s eyes expand twice their size as he spots you.

“I was…I was just looking for the bathroom.”

Jungkook’s face hardens, “Well, you found it.” He makes his way to pass you but you grab on to his arm to stop him.

“Wait,” you breathe in and out, trying to give yourself time to think of what you want to say.

“What is it?” his voice is somehow softer than he probably intended.

“I want to talk to you…explain to you why I’ve been ignoring you.”

“Yeah, you’re still pissed at me, I fucking get it.” He spits out bitterly.

“It’s…it’s more than that.”

“More than that? Did I do something more? What did I do? y/n just tell me…” He rocks back and forth on his heels, his eyes glued to the ground.

“You’re going to be so mad at me, maybe even hate me—”

“You know I could never hate you.” He whispers, sounding so sincere it crushes you.

You glance around your surroundings, making sure no one is around and drag him back into the bathroom for some privacy. You shut the door behind you, trying so hard to ignore the smell of sex.

“Tae thought—” you begin but Jungkook is already rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

“Of course Tae thought.” His tone almost scares you. “Let me guess? Taehyung doesn’t want me around while you guys are fake dating. That’s not fucking weird to you?” He grits between his teeth. He balls up his fists at his side, you see his knuckles turn white and it makes you feel uneasy.

“He made some good points…”

“Oh really?” Jungkook laughs bitterly, “Like what?”

You looked into Jungkook’s doe eyes and feel a sense of guilt, like you somehow made the wrong choice.

“He thinks we’re too close. And he’s right. It would be weird if I’m super closer to another guy while dating him.” you reason, but your face falls when you see Jungkook’s scrunched up expression.

“You think we’re too close?” he whispers.

Well, yes. But also, no. Of course not, but also yes. How do you tell Jungkook all of that?

“People always think we’re dating or fucking or—”

“Oh? And all the sudden we care what people think?” his voice wavers from the rollercoaster of emotions he is feeling.

“Jungkook wait, I’m wording this all wrong. It’s just for a month okay?”

“You wanna date him that badly? That you would throw me away?” he grits out.

“Hey! That’s not fucking fair.”

“So what? Say your little fantasy comes true and he decides he wants to date you for real? Am I still out of the picture?”

“No no, of course not…” you shake your head and reach for his hands but he pulls away.

“So then what’s the difference now?”

Jungkook has a good point but you’re at a loss for words. Too choked up to speak.

“And you know what y/n? Fuck you for choosing him over me in the first place.” And with that Jungkook breezes past you, swings open the bathroom door and is out of your view.

Jungkook has never spoken to you like that before, you stand there with your mouth hung open and tears forming in your eyes.

He’s right. You fucked up. You did a fucked up thing. You chose a boy who may not even actually like you over the one guy who has always had your back.

“y/n?” you snap your head in the direction of the door to see Taehyung standing there. A look of disappointment decorating his face.

“I was told you and Jungkook were in the bathroom…” he spits out.

“I had to talk to him, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but how does this look for me?” Taehyung speaks sternly. You did NOT need this right now.

“Tae—”

“You couldn’t even last more than a week y/n.” he scoffs.

“Listen could we just talk about this later?” you ask with pleading eyes.

“I’ll call an uber.” He motions towards the hallway, “we can talk tomorrow.”

You slump your shoulders and nod your head, tomorrow sounds like it’s for the best.

3 days have passed and neither Jungkook nor Taehyung have talked to you.

You hear Jungkook come in and out of the apartment but you’re too shy to make a move outside of your bedroom. He’s either coming from classes, the gym, Jimins, or some girls house and you’re dying to know which.

You have been hibernating in your room, taking comfort in your bed when you get a notification from Instagram.

@V tagged you in a post.

You scramble to unlock your phone so you can view the post. Once you are on the app you click on you notifs and click on the post.

It’s a picture of you eating cotton candy from when he took you to the fair on your date. With the caption:

“Missing my girl tonight”

And a bunch of heart emojis. Your own heart sinks. He misses you? You close the app and instead open your messages.

y/n 9:08pm

You miss me for the show or is there some truth behind that?

Taehyung 9:20pm

Maybe it’s both?

Taehyung 9:22pm

I am sorry for how I left things…I was just kinda embarrassed that my supposed girl was with another guy,,,in a bathroom.

y/n 9:24pm

trust me I know how it looks and im sorry…

y/n 9:26pm

If it makes you feel any better Jungkook isn’t talking to me either.

Taehyung 9:26pm

Of course that doesn’t make me feel better, he is your best friend…

y/n 9:28pm

tae, I hope we can continue this…I still want to help you…

Taehyung 9:34pm

Ill pick you up at 6 for a date tmrw: )

y/n 9:34pm

I cant wait: ) : )

You click your phone off and toss it on the other side of the bed, you squeal in excitement as the realization hits that Taehyung still wants to do this with you.

You hear Jungkook on the other side of the wall, yelling into what you assume is his headset. He’s gaming. You miss him so god damn much. He has no idea what his silence is doing to you. You try to focus your attention on tomorrows date with Taehyung but you can’t help the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Guilt. You were an awful friend and now thinking about it you are continuing to be an awful friend. If he even counts you as friends anymore.

“fuck you”

Those words ring loud and clear in your ears. You didn’t even know Jungkook was capable of speaking to you like that. It fucking hurts.

Jungkook is in his room pacing back and forth. He saw it. The insta post. And he feels like he’s losing you. Neither of you have made a move to speak to the other. He’s just too hurt and you continue to see Taehyung? You obviously don’t feel too bad about the whole ordeal. And 3 days is just too long. A week was too long, but somehow these 3 days are worse.

Jungkook grabs his phone and opens up tinder. He messages one of the girls that’s been teasing him lately. He figures now is the time to make more of a move.

Jungkook 10:00pm

Hey ;) what are you doing tonight?

Leslie 10:10pm

Gonna be thinking about you probably;)

Jungkook 10:12pm

Instead of thinking about me, come see me.

And that was it, that’s all it took. She was quick to agree and he is already sending her the address.

It’s after 11pm when you hear the front door open, you quietly get out of bed, curiosity getting the best of you. Was Jungkook leaving? But then you hear a girls voice and you immediately frown. Oh. She sounds pretty. Is that even a thing? Well, she does. And it has you feeling weird. You thought you were over this.

You hear the patter of their footsteps walking towards Jungkook’s room, the sound of his door opening and closing just like that.

You walk back to your bed feeling ashamed for spying, but now you know you won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Fanfuckingtastic.

“aaahhh…” the random girl whines out causing you to shift uncomfortably in your bed.

“More?” you can hear Jungkook’s muffled voice, he sounds strained. Probably because he’s fucking some girl a few feet away from you.

You reach over to your nightstand for your headphones when you hear Jungkook grunting as the beds headboard bangs against your wall, he groans and moans and you feel yourself getting hotter.

You try not to imagine Jungkook in these scenarios but he sounds…no, you won’t have those thoughts…you don’t want to remember. Your hand is still midair when you retreat it back to your bed.

“Fuck yeah baby.” You hear him gripe. And you squeeze your thighs together. No, this cannot be happening.

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” Fuck, she sounds so fucked out.

“Feels so good, feels so good” he pants over and over and you feel the back of your eyes burn.

“gonna come” he groans out and your chest is heaving now, your breathing becoming a chore. You can’t cry, not over this. He hates you and he’s buried in some other girl. And you want to fucking crying about it. You hear him moaning on the other side of the wall and then—

“Fuuuuuuccckk” his orgasm is fucking apparent. He’s obviously coming and you’re lying in your bed all fucking pathetic with tears staining your cheeks.

Jungkook lays in bed totally fucked out of his mind. This girl is sleeping next to him, trying to her best to cuddle but he resists. He wishes he had time to himself to think properly. He just fucked another girl and thought of you the entire time. He is 100% fucked up. Wait, wait. He needs to explain himself…it’s not like he thought of you like, sexually. It’s just you’re all that’s on his mind. Even during fucking sex. And he hates himself for it.

He decides to sneak out of bed to have a shower. He creaks open his door for any sign of life and when there is none he tip toes to the bathroom. Jungkook stands in the shower letting the warm water cascade over his skin, he just stands there lifeless.

Images of you cross his mind and he sinks to his knees, pulling them into his chest and he quietly curses under his breath. He misses you so much and things have gotten so messed up he just doesn’t even know how to fix it.

He scrubs himself clean, ridding the scent of the random girl he brought over. He sniffles under the raining water hating himself.

Jungkook dries himself off with your towel, and puts on his shorts. His chest left bare.

He exits the bathroom when he notices a light coming from the kitchen and sees you sitting at the table with a glass of water.

“oh.” Jungkook slips up.

“oh?” you wonder.

“I thought you were fast asleep.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

“Just woke up.” You lie through your teeth with a strained smile. “Couldn’t sleep…”

“I know the feeling…” he admits, walking closer to you.

Jungkook makes his way to the table before pulling out a chair and sitting down next to you.

“Listen—”

“Jungkook—”

You both begin talking at the same time. Jungkook ushers you to go first.

“I…I’m still fake dating Tae.”

“I know.”

“But…” your eyes gloss over, getting choked up trying to continue. “But I am so sorry.” A few tears spill from your eyes.

“I know y/n.” he reaches his hand to squeeze your knee. You feel so much better with him touching you. “I’m sorry too…I was really harsh. And it pains me every day that I haven’t talked to you.”

“Trust me, I get it. I wanted to like, kill myself not talking to you.” Your eyes slam shut as more tears threaten to fall.

Jungkook’s face morphs into a deep frown, “You know I don’t like when you say that…”

“Right…sorry.”

“Honestly y/n…I don’t know when I will be okay with this, but I’ll respect your wishes for the month.”

“Jungkook…” Your hand flies down to his and you squeeze it but he’s quick to let it go.

“I’m mad at you right now.” He admits softly, his breathing is slow and steady. “So just give me some space.”

~~~

Like magical clockwork you hear light knocking on your front door. You scramble to find your phone and your purse to make it to the door in good time but you hear it being creaked open and the voices of two men. Shit, Jungkook got to the door first.

Ever since you started fake dating Taehyung it seems Jungkook has been keeping a distance from him. You aren’t sure why but they’ve been weird. So you want to avoid as much awkwardness as possible. You grab all your belongings and rush to the living room and find the two men sitting on the sofa quietly chatting.

“Can you keep your voice down dude?” Taehyung peers over his shoulder, looking in the direction of your room. “Would if she hears?”

“I wish she would fucking hear,” Jungkook grits through his teeth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Why don’t you just tell her?” he leans back on the back of the sofa, “She might be understanding, hm? Do it before it’s too late or I swear to god Taehyung I will tell her myself.”

“You swore you wouldn’t say shit. Just like how I swore not to say any—”

“Okay.”

“I’ll tell her dude. Just give me some time to—"

Jungkook’s eyes shoot up when he hears the light creak of your bedroom door open, he waits expectantly for you to walk through.

“Hey guys,” you announce your presence and both boys look up at you and smile. Taehyung with his boxy grin and Jungkook with a tightlipped smile.

“Hey y/n, you look nice,” Taehyung stands to his feet and walks towards you, “I mean, you always do.” He stops just in front of you and hands you a bag.

“What’s this?” you take the bag and jingle it around a bit.

“just something for our date.” He grins. “You can open it later.” Taehyung glances over at Jungkook, “Anyway, let’s get going. See you later man.” He nods toward the boy and faces you again. “shall we?”

You smile up at Taehyung and take his hand in your yours and lead him towards the front door but before you leave you and Jungkook make eye contact and he frowns.

Taehyung being the gentlemen he is runs to the car before you and opens your car door.

“Feet inside?” he asks and you’re nodding yes when he shuts the door for you. He runs around the other side and enters the car himself. Taehyung settles on an old 50’s station with the volume just right. He’s humming along with a dopey grin on his face, feeling satisfied with his choice.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Let’s get some dinner first then we can do our date activity I have planned” he chuckles to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

You drive around in comfortable silence when you decide to take your phone out and shoot Jungkook a text.

y/n 6:14pm

You okay?

Jungkook 6:16pm

Don’t worry about me while you’re out with another guy

“Everything okay?” Taehyung asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.” You reply quite honestly.

“About Jungkook?”

“What?? Why would you assume that?” your voice rises in panic.

“Well, we were all just together and I know you and him are fighting…I thought it was a safe assumption.” He laughs awkwardly.

“Oh…right. Actually, me and Jungkook sorted things out kind of but we’re still barely talking.”

“oh? Really?” Taehyungs grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“He said he will steer clear for the month, ya know, in public.”

“He—he agreed?” Taehyung coughs a few times, his head pushed back in disbelief.

“Something like that.” You don’t really know what to say, this is an awkward thing to be talking about and you wish the subject would change.

“Anyway,” you begin, “How did things with Anna escalate?”

Taehyung freezes. The color draining from his face as his knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“Um.” Taehyung feels sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to come up with an answer.

“You know how it is,” his mouth feels dry as he tries to speak, “She just won’t leave me alone and I want to show her that I am taken so she will get the hint.” Then a sly smile spreads across his face “and I think it’s working.”

“You think so?” you raise a brow in question.

“Well, you are such a convincing girlfriend after all.” His right arm extends towards your knee and he squeezes it. “Thanks again y/n…” he almost sounds…guilty. But you push that thought away and smile at him. Your sweet smile making him feel even guiltier.

~~~

“Dinner was sooo good.” You raise your arms above your head, stretching your body, a satisfied moan leaving you as you lower your arms again.

“I knew you’d like it! Best pizza in town!” Taehyung sets his credit card in the bill holder on the table. “Ready for what I have planned next?”

“hmmm, yes.”

The two of you wait for the server to return so you can finish paying so you can leave. Once all finished up at the restaurant the two of you head back to the parking lot and get inside his car to go to your next destination.

“Your apartment?” you ask as you notice his building coming into view.

“Yes. But you’ll see.” He turns his head quickly to flash you his pearly whites.

The two of you walk to his front door as he unlocks the door. Taehyung has a two bedroom apartment but lives alone. You’ve only ever seen his kitchen and living room and you’re wondering if you’re lucky enough you’ll see his bedroom. Hehe but that’s wishful thinking.

“You have that bag?” Taehyung asks,

“yup,” you say lifting it up and showing him the precious goods.

“Great go put it on!”

You tilt your head in confusion but you see how excited he is so you walk to his bathroom and shut the door behind you. Would if it was lingerie? You giggle to yourself at the ridiculous idea.

You open the bag to find some type of clothing. First, you pull out a large white t shirt and next was an…apron? The apron was a light pink color with a pocket in the front with your initials embroidered on it. You gasp once you realize it, your heart beating out of your chest as you melt into a puddle on the floor. He got your initials on an apron? You hurry to change into the white t shirt and put the apron on.

“Cute.” You murmur to yourself in the mirror before you’re out the door and back into the living room.

“How do you like it?” Taehyung asks from behind you, surprising you with a glass of water. You take the water gratefully and gulp down a few sips before answering.

“love it, but what’s it for?”

Taehyung beams, grabbing your arm and leading you into one of the bedrooms. He stands in front of the door and bounces on his heels.

“Ready?”

“Yes?”

“Never showed anyone this room but I feel like you’re special” Taehyung giggles, “Plus I thought it was a cute date idea.”

“hmm, okay. I’m ready.” You are such a fool for this boy, his cuteness doing a million things to you.

Taehyung begins to slowly open the door revealing a room with tarp covering the ground and easels taking up space. There are buckets of paint, a variety of colors spread all across. And many, many art pieces.

“You…” you begin to say in awe, “You’re an artist, Tae?”

“Aspiring.” He chuckles a bit bitterly. “How would you like to paint together?”

“You feel comfortable enough with me?” you ask, surprised.

“Something about you….” He starts but leaves it hanging. “Let’s paint!”

You dip your paint brush in purple paint and stroke it across the canvas, the color joining a mess of other colors. That’s art, right? Fuck, you are not good at this. You sneak a glance over at Taehyung to see him painting a scenic art piece. There’s mountains and flowers but somehow in an abstract kind of way, you tilt your head to the side trying to eye it more carefully.

“Hey, no peeking!” his bottom lip jutting out in the cutest way. You just want to kiss it.

You stand from your stool and walk over to his, your eyes never leaving his art work.

“I’m trying to figure out what I am looking at. Don’t get me wrong, its super cool. But like there’s this beautiful tree with flowers but also shapes??”

“Its abstract, y/n.” his tone is light and makes you flutter. “I like it this way.” He says softly.

“me too.” You look at him, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze shifts to your lips.

“heh really?” Taehyung’s cheeks turn a wonderful shade of pink, like the flowers on his canvas.

“You really are amazing, aren’t you?”

“Me? Let’s see what you got!” He stands from his stool and begins walking over to your art work.

“No!” you stand in his way, your arms flailing above your head. “It’s not good!” You laugh and push his chest back with your hands, Taehyung wobbles in place as he laughs at your dramatics.

“It can’t be that bad.”

You finally let him walk past you, he stands in front of your canvas with his finger on his chin,

“Okay, it can be that bad.”

Taehyung bubbles with laughter and you hit his shoulder but end up laughing with him.

“I told you.” You pout. Taehyung stares at you, his eyes once again shifting towards your lips and you aren’t going to play dumb, of course you’ve noticed.

“What?” you jut your lip out even more, walking just a bit closer to him.

“Nothing, you’re just cute.” Taehyung admits. His long fingers brush against your cheek as he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like, really cute.”

Well, holy shit. Your heart and also your vagina cannot take this.

“How cute?” you breathe out.

“So cute I could kiss you.” Taehyung walks closer, his foot bumping into yours. “But…” He looks down at the ground, guilt beginning to surface, “y/n I have to tell—”

You tilt your head up and meet his lips for a peck on the lips taking him by surprise. Taehyung knits his brows together and is about to say something when he sighs out instead. One of his hands travel to cup the back of your head to bring you closer to him and he kisses you again. He deepens the kiss. Its slow and there’s no tongue, just lips moving tenderly against one another. You feel so light and airy like you could just float away until he abruptly pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” you panic, worry filling your eyes.

“We—we shouldn’t do that.” He finally says after a moment. Why? It was just some kissing between two people who possibly like each other? It’s not like you were delusional right? It’s not like you were making this up in your head. The flowers, the apron, the dinners, the car door, the ‘missing my girl’, the way he treats you can’t just be because of some fake dating bullshit. You know he is known for his kindness but to this extent?

“Why?” you finally say.

“Because,” Taehyung drags a hand across his face, “No one’s around. Let’s just take our pictures—”

BBrrrrrr bbbrrrr brrrrrr bbbrrrr

Taehyung’s phone is sitting on the table next to where the two of you are, it’s going off and you naturally glance over.

Incoming call: Anna

Taehyung races to turn it off, his face flushing and his hands have become sweaty.

“She…she just doesn’t give up.” He chuckles awkwardly, his phone in his grasp as you hear the buzzing of incoming messages.

“Is that her too?” you ask, feeling sorry for him.

“Uh, yeah…probably.” He says, his eyes looking all over the room but never on you.

“Well, let’s see what she’s saying.” You say nonchalantly, reaching for his phone but he yanks his hand back and barks a loud ‘No’. Startled, you step away from him.

“Sorry, I just…” he rubs his neck.

“No no, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have reached for your phone like that…” Something is off, You can feel it. But you want to push that feeling away.

“Let’s just take the pictures, I need to get home soon.”

“Yeah, okay.” Taehyung forces a smile.

~~~

Something is off with Taehyung. The way he wanted to kiss you but then pulled back. The way he got super weird after Anna called. Has she traumatized him that much? Is she like a real, legit stalker who is totally and completely obsessed with him? You feel bad for the guy, he seems like he probably has trust issues or something. Maybe he thinks you might turn out to be like her and he’s scared of that so that’s why he is pushing you away.

That’s gotta be it. You roll around in your bed about to finally get some sleep when you hear music blaring through the wall. Jungkook. You roll your eyes at his choice of timing. The clock reads after midnight, why the hell is he blasting music at this time?

You rise from your bed and storm into his room. Jungkook looks surprised to see you as he is in the middle of doing pushups—shirtless.

His muscles ripple with every movement and it has you practically drooling.

“Uh, can I help you?” Jungkook doesn’t look very annoyed, mostly amused.

“It’s late, Jungkook. Can you turn this shit down?”

“Can’t. Didn’t get a work out in today…so here I am.” He rises to his feet, shrugging.

The music is some horrible rock back that you can’t stand and Jungkook knows this. He fucking knows this. Wow, he really is mad at you still.

“Listen dude,” you put your hands on your hips, “I’ve had a weird day and I just want to relax.”

“Oh baby, I can think of a way for you to relax.” He winks. You want to puke, why is Jungkook so gross.

“Ew.”

“So…how was it?” Jungkook’s eyes fall to the ground.

“What?”

“How—how was your date with Taehyung?” he doesn’t raise his eyes, they stay glued to the floor.

“It was…” you get flashbacks to the awkward date, “fine.” You finish, not wanting to give Jungkook any more reason to dislike you and Taehyung together. “Yeah, it was fine” you force a smile.

“You know I know better than anyone when you’re lying.” He says, finally looking at you again.

Fuck. He’s right, if anyone knows you and your lying habits its Jungkook. He can read you like his favorite book. And it’s like, a picture book. Super fucking easy.

“It was fine Jungkook.” You lie again.

“What happened?” his tone eases into something softer, something more comforting and it almost makes you break and tell him the truth. Almost. But not quite.

“Nothing happened. Keep the music down, I’m going to bed.”

Jungkook watches as you spin on your heels to exit his bedroom, his eyes caving and watching your ass the entire time. He has a love-hate relationship with your house shorts, they’re sexy as hell and that’s the problem.

Jungkook turns the volume down on his speakers and sits on the edge of his bed. His head falls into his hands as he thinks about your date with Taehyung. Something must have happened. He knows it. He feels it. But he can’t force you to tell him.

He lays back on his bed and his face hardens as he thinks more about your fake relationship. He wants to beat Taehyungs ass. He wish he could tell you but it’s not his place and he just wishes Taehyung will do the right thing.

While staying loyal to Taehyung is he betraying you?

~~~~

Best friend: “A person you value over other friends in your life, someone you have fun with, someone you trust and someone in whom you confide.” That’s how the dictionary would describe the word but in Jungkook’s dictionary it would just be your cute face. Everything about you is cute to him, the way you walk, talk, dress, sneeze, just everything.

Even when you look gross as hell in the mornings dealing with a nasty hangover he still viewed you as…cute.

When Jungkook first noticed you was in his Literature class that took place on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He knew you always sat in the back and took your notes without really paying him any attention. And not to sound like a cocky bastard but…why not? He obviously thought you were pretty and there was something about you…

The second time he noticed you was at some frat party where he caught you staring at him and he thought he finally might have a chance at talking to you. Or get in your pants at least. He could one and done this situation and move on with his life but much to his surprise you weren’t interested in getting dicked down by him. No, you were interested in just…hanging out. Which he wasn’t use to. Most girls just wanted to say the got with the Jeon Jungkook and don’t pay him any mind for something serious. Because apparently he isn’t the type of guy you could be “serious” with. It’s not like he doesn’t hear the rumors. He hated this honestly…but he guesses it’s his own fault.

He even playfully offered to take you upstairs that night but you refused him. Much too shy. So he got a better idea: the 24 hour diner down the road.

You ended up talking until 9 am the next morning, laughing and snorting, telling tons of stories that cracked the two of you up. He even shared deeply personal information with you that shocked the both of you. But it just felt right—talking to you. He felt like he could open his heart to you, like he was making a real friend.

Jungkook doesn’t have much of a dating history…he mostly just sleeps around and is okay with that—because he has to be. Like what was said earlier, Jungkook isn’t a guy you get “serious” with and all the girls knew that. It just started with one girl spreading the fact he isn’t the type to ‘do’ relationships. He thought this would cause girls to try harder and try to change him or whatever. But none cared enough. He guesses…he just isn’t worth it. Does Jungkook yearn for something more? You wouldn’t know because he has never voiced it. Even though he isn’t lucky in love, he did get super lucky in a friend. That’s you. He cherishes your friendship more than anything in the world and wouldn’t do anything to risk ruining it.

3 years ago

“What about you?” you smile at him with all your teeth, “What are your parents like?”

You didn’t know at the time but this question made Jungkook feel the very dread he avoids feeling.

He looked into your wide eyes and couldn’t help the sigh that escapes his lips.

“Dad cheated the whole time and moms not around anymore.” Jungkook picks at his cuticles.

You felt a pang of guilt for bringing it up…but you were too curious to stop.

“Where did she go?” you can’t seem to stop yourself from asking.

Jungkook pauses his bad habit, his fingers coming to a halt.

“Can we change the subject?” he finally says, a small smile spreading across his lips, “It’s like, uh…a touchy subject. Ya know?” he almost looks as if he feels bad that he can’t confide in you.

“I promise I will tell you about it someday.” He swears with his pinky joining your pinky. You felt content with his answer but somehow you knew he probably never would.

Jungkook lays in his bed with his head dangling off the edge. Its 10 at night and you’re still not back. You had another date with Taehyung today—he knows because he follows the both of you on Instagram and you posted a photo of Taehyung in front of a mural that’s located just downtown. He grabs his phone to check your location and unfortunately you are still in the same spot—Taehyungs apartment. He hates this. Why does he hate this? Because Taehyung doesn’t deserve you and what he’s doing is not right. But he can’t tell you that because none of this is his business. Instead all he does is piss you off and he hates himself for it.

He truly thinks the world of you, he truly wants nothing but the best for you and he truly loves you. You’re his best friend.

Jungkook starts to doze off when he hears the front door being unlocked. It’s you.

Quickly, Jungkook jumps to his feet and scurries to his bedroom door and places his ear over the wood. He hears you talking…then another voice. You’re not alone. Its muffled but he makes out what you’re saying.

“It was amazing T,” oh, you’re with Trina. “He got me flowers, took pictures of me and got all my best angles.” He hears you giggling then another voice joins you in your laughter.

“I told you! This was a great idea!” Trina says, Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“He was such a gentlemen the whole time and it…I know it’s not real but I don’t know man…it feels real sometimes.”

“Girl, he would be stupid not to have a thing for you.” For once, Trina and Jungkook agree on something.

“I would actually kill myself if he did!” you giggle.

Jungkook goes rigid at your words, his jaw clenching so hard it ticks. He hates when you say shit like that, it creates a suffocating bubble around him that’s too hard to pop.

Jungkook decides he’s eavesdropped enough and settles back on his bed. He lays back, his arms folded behind him. He feels beyond frustrated and doesn’t know what could cure this. Well, maybe sex? Maybe he should call up some girl…maybe that could make him feel better. But somehow that didn’t appeal to him so much in this moment when his brain is occupied of you. So he settles for himself. It’s been a while since Jungkook gave himself a handy but he’s not opposed of going for it.

The lights are off and Jungkook is deciding if he wants to watch porn or settle for his imagination. A girl he use to hook up with enters his mind and he decides to roll with it, he dips his hands underneath his boxers to feel up his hardening length. He reaches for his nightstand to squirt some lube in his hand, his cock is only half hard by the time he’s gently stroking himself. The skin on his cock is smooth with few veins decorating the length, he’s already leaking precum while his imagination starts up.

He thinks of this girl and her lips, how she looks with them wrapped around his greedy cock and he becomes even harder. Fuck, he can’t remember her name—a piece of shit move but he doesn’t care at this point. He’s stroking himself faster, gathering the precum at his tip and smearing it around. A light moan escapes his lips as he tugs on the head of his cock harder. His other hand drags his boxers down his legs as his continues to stroke himself and then reaches to fondle his balls. He groans at the sensation.

He then thinks of the girls ass in the air, her wiggling it around and begging him to fuck her. Her ass is round and plump, it jiggles slightly as she squirms below him. His hand moves quickly as his thoughts get dirtier. He doesn’t see her face just her ass and her voice sounds a lot like…yours. Fuck, he can’t be thinking of you right now. He’s pissed at you, his thoughts growing angry yet somehow his hand doesn’t stop. He’s so close it fucking hurts.

“Fuck…y/n..” he whimpers into his shoulder. He now sees your face, underneath him, your hair all splayed out. Your lips are swollen and you whine for him, begging for him to fuck into you faster. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut at that image, his hand stroking him impossibly fast as he is beginning to lose all composure. He shouldn’t be thinking of you right now, or ever—not like this. But he hears you beg for him, he imagines flipping you over, demanding you to raise your ass in the air. You beg to be punished, you beg for him to spank you, and he does. He pulls his hand back and slaps your needy ass and you whimper. He does it again and again.

He sees himself insert his cock into your pussy and he’s thrusting in and out like his life depends on it. Jungkook’s hand squeezes desperately around his throbbing member, he cries out quietly as he fucks you in his mind.

He imagines you reaching your own high, your moans and screams ringing in his ears and that’s what sets him over the edge. His cum spurts out of his swollen cock, spraying all over his hand as he begins to come to a stop on himself.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck” Jungkook is out of breath, his fantasy too much for him to handle. “What the fuck did I just….”

He sits in complete silence as his breathing comes down. Did he just? He is not supposed to do that.

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon Jungkook #Jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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venusguks · 3 years

Text

Solace in Seoul

— Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader (Reader x Kim Taehyung on the side)

— Summary : the falling apart of you and kim taehyung, and the coming together of you and jeon jungkook

— Genre/Warnings : plot driven, angst, smut, fluff, sugar daddy/baby relationship, student/teacher relationship w kth, bsfs2lvrs w jjk, unprotected sex, creampie, degredation, oral (f receiving), jk just wants to love you :(, jk is the absolute sweetest really, spit drinking?, praise ( TW : MENTIONS OF FAMILY ABUSE/BRUISES )

ACT 1. | 134340

The first time you talk to Jeon Jungkook again, your mind is elsewhere, absorbed in the lingering absence of Taehyung.

Spring's gentle breeze carried distant laughter and a faint melody from the music club two floors down. The sky carried drifting clouds, the ocean carried rising tides, and you — You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Or at least it felt like it.

The piles of envelopes concerning last two months’ unpaid bills have been devouring your dinner table and heart alike. After receiving the countless of threatening voicemails from your landlord, you'd be naive not to expect a visit—but opening the door to Mrs. Joomi’s bitter scorn didn’t make you feel any less anxious. Juggling two part time jobs all the while maintaining A’s and B’s was nothing easy to accomplish. Hell, living wasn't even easy, and yet, it was like nothing you did was ever enough.

Grief was your composer and you were her violin—her cruel euphony reverberated through your tears when you sat on the cold kitchen floor last night, sifting between your savings that barely made up one month's rent. On top of your midnight breakdown, your dad decided to come home yesterday out of all days and, well, you know how that goes.

The door clicks open, interrupting you from your trance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Footsteps pad closer until Taehyung is right next to you. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back against the metal railing, facing the opposite direction. It's quiet at first. You've noticed long ago that your relationship with him was one that was filled with silence. “Somethings bothering you,” He’s the first to break it. Neither of you take your gaze off the cerulean blue sky. “You could tell?”

“Of course I can, angel," his voice is cool, gentle, and it carries you away with the wind. "You dozed off through the whole lecture today."

Shame tinges your cheeks with the faintest pink, “oh... I’m sorry. I was paying attention, really, I was just—"

"Love," he saighs, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You could skip to sleep in the nurse's office for all I care. I'm just worried about you."

“What a good teacher you are,” you smile, a teasing one, but Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Trust me, if I was a good teacher, I wouldn’t be doing this," he sounds apathetic, but that doesn't stop you from frowning. You finally turn to look at him, his curls of deep brown swaying. “Taehyung... please don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, everyone knows it.”

You hoped he knew how genuine you were. God, you hoped to the moon he knew just how good he was. Taehyung may have already been admired for his captivating smile and his nonchalant energy, but everyone respected him for so much more. He was the type of teacher everyone wanted—the cause of counselor’s headaches every autumn for receiving heaps of transfer requests. Even parents and teachers fawned over him, baffled to see the passing rate in math tests accumulate over the years. It hurt that he didn't see that, and it hurt more knowing he didn't think he was respectable because of you.

The man tilts his head to look at you, smiling softly. “You know I’m only joking, doll.”

“Whether you're joking or not, I still... it just worries me when you talk like that,” you pause, "....do you really feel that way?" Do you really regret this?

Taehyung sighs, and the jeweled rings adorning his fingers are cold against your skin as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Worrying is my job, angel, so tell me what's been on your mind instead."

If Taehyung noticed the hurt in your eyes, he chose to ignore it. He always did this. You got it, really, you did. There were boundaries for these sorts of relationships. One step closer would bring him one step back, which was why you never probed him any time he disregarded your questions. But a selfish part of you still felt it was a bit unfair, a bit painful to feel him slip away, to realize he was never there in the first place.

It was strange, how he made you feel. His thumb grazed your lips, his breath was light on your skin—if you concentrated hard enough, you swear you could hear his heart beat. He was only inches away.

So why did he feel so far?

Taehyung was your your lighthouse, your harbor, your shore. Through the snowy December nights where his fingers traced sensuous lines down your bare stomach, to the Spring showers of March where his cold lips brushed your inner thigh—Taehyung had always been your solace.

You knew tangling in sexual affairs with your teacher in return for sealed envelopes was wrong, but how could something so sinful feel so heavenly? The unspoken acts committed underneath draped curtains and moonlight's veil felt too dear to you to be called impure. By your sixth rendezvous, you started to wish the intimacy you shared with him could go beyond silk sheets and star speckled lust.

“I want you to confide in me too,” you said one night under the reluctant shadows of warmly lit candles. “I want to help you too, Taehyung. Please, let me help you.” You could tell he's been agitated the whole week, but you'd been too afraid to ask, afraid of him pushing you away. You didn't know where your courage came from then, all that you wished to be more than a distraction. “I don’t need you to help me," Taehyung growled, and you let out a muffled whimper when he rolled your clit with his tongue, your thighs trembling as you reached for his soft curls. "B-But I care a-about—ahn!" You arched your back as he inserted a finger inside of you, curling into your sweet spot with frightening accuracy. "Don’t need you any way else other than this, doll. Just be good and silent for me." That morning, you woke up to a bed void of the man you loved; a white envelope being the only remnant of that night.

You sighed as you recalled that memory, brushing your own fingers over his, tracing the metal bristles of his rings. “Its nothing."

“Don’t say that, angel. I know it’s not nothing."

“Really, Taehyung, i’m fine. Just stressed is all.”

“Stressed...as in financially?” Your sudden tenseness affirms his assumption, making him sigh. "You could've just told me earlier, angel. Tell me how much you need." A repulsing mixture of shame and self resentment brews in your chest, hardening like bitter dalgona. Dirty, despite money sparking your secret arrangement from the very beginning, that’s how you felt every time it was ever brought up. “Hey, look at me doll," as if reading your thoughts, Taehyung gently draws your face close to his with two hands cupping your cheeks, noses barely brushing. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this. Just treat it as an early birthday present, yeah?"

You couldn't help but frowning, your hands roaming the access of his collarbone. "You already do so much for me, Taehyung...I just...I-I feel bad." You failed to notice how rigid he became then, how his eyebrows dipped with evident frustration. "Y/n, you know that—"

Click!

Before you even realize it, you and Taehyung are off each other. When the blue, paint-scraped door opens, sleeked shoes and lively banter are welcomed by two students, diminishing with a glance at the both of you. "Ah, Mr. Kim, there you are! I was looking all over for you. What are you doing here?" A girl's eyes shift from you to the chestnut haired man. Taehyung easy recollects himself as he pats your shoulder, wearing a professional grin. "I stumbled into y/n here, was just giving her some advice but we’ve finished. What did you need me for?”

"Oh...well, about finals week..." You almost let out a sigh of relief as they continued their conversation, but your breath is instantly caught in your throat when your gaze flickers to the boy right next to her.

You were too startled by the sudden interruption that you haven’t completely processed his presence. You almost wish you hadn’t though, now that his doe, big brown eyes mirror your own.

Jungkook was unmoving, and you could've guessed he was conflicted—whether to say hi or to stay silent. Even if you were in the same grade, it was rare to see his face among the carbon copied uniforms. Class C—1 and C—4 were the furthest from each other, and with being the student council event coordinator, you were either neck deep in documents or tucked in the seclusions of the rooftop.

But due to the proud morning announcements and the hushed whispers of admiration, Jungkook never really strayed too far from your orbit. Referred to as the school's golden boy, Jungkook was loved by everyone. He was friends with members from the fashion department to the swim team to the gardening club—Hell, even the occult club. Teachers and students alike wore lenses of adoration for their school’s pride and joy while you tried your best to look away. He may have been in your orbit, but you were two different worlds, encapsulated by the universe but separated by light years of meteors and stars. Jungkook was a nameless planet to you, as you were to him. You never brought yourself to think about it—never had the time for anyway, so seeing him there, floating with the drifting clouds, even you felt a tad bit shaken.

“—kook...Jungkook, hey, Jungkook! I’m gonna go get my assignment with Mr. Kim. Come with?” He blinks profusely, averting his attention from you to the girl wearing raised brows. “Uh, no thank you. Breaks gonna end soon anyways, I think I’ll stay up here. See you after school though?”

“After school,” she clicks her tongue, waving before disappearing down the stairs. Taehyung lingers for a second longer, his eyes flickering to you. “Well I’ll see you next period, Jeon. Bye, y/n." With that, the door shuts behind them, welcoming an air of awkward silence.

Jungkook is the first to clear his throat, “hi, its been awhile," his earrings dangled with his every nervous movement, and you wondered when he'd gotten all his piercings. "Y-Yeah, its been awhile..." you repeat densely as you watch him take the spot Taehyung left, respecting a distance but not standing too far away. He rests his forearms on the metal railing, his elbow barely brushing yours. “Do you usually come up here?"

"Only during lunch."

He hums, "that explains why I never see you."

You frown, both in curiosity and confusion. "You look for me?"

“I-I don’t!” He sputters too quickly. “I just...its just an observation. We’re in the same year after all, and you’re never with the rest of the student council members.” Your brows raise in amusement, “that's surprising.”

“What is?”

“I didn’t think you remembered my name—honestly didn’t think you even remembered I existed.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckles, “we’ve been friends for 17 years. How could I forget?”

“14 years,” you reminded softly, “we’ve been friends for 14 years.”

A star in Jungkook’s eyes must have died out when you smiled sadly at him. “Oh...right...” he rubs the nape of his neck, sighing. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “strange.” And there it is again. Spring’s momentary silence. You watch as the sun slowly disappears behind sailing clouds. Talking to Jungkook, being alone next to him, was maybe even a little bit uncomfortable. After all, you guys had so much history—where do those film rolls of sun seeped memories go? It was as if they floated all around you, tying your fingers together like the red string of fate. After all those years of suppressing them, it was intoxicating, adamant to be remembered.

“This reminds me of middle school,” Jungkook brings your head back from the sky. “In 5th grade, the highest we could go was at the top of the garden shed. We spent all our breaks there, staring at clouds, complaining about Mr. Lim being too grouchy, or wondering where we'd go after school—what ice cream flavor we’d get at the convenience store. Do you remember?”

"Of course I do," despite yourself, your heart softens to the recollection. It was your secret hiding spot, blocked by the slant of the roof and the trees barricading the other side. The sky, wind, and Jungkook had been your only escape from the problem solving in math and the problem solving you had to do on your own when you were 10, wondering what the budget for that week's grocery would be. “We thought we were so cool, that we were on top of the world.”

“Correction, you thought you were so cool. You even promised to show me your own space ship, remember?”

“God, please don’t,” you groan, covering your face with your palms. You knew exactly where this was going, and you guessed Jungkook still knew exactly how to embarrass you. “You told me you were a space—“

“—adventurer!” You beamed a toothy grin, two hands proudly on your hips. Jungkook looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pupils as large as beloved full moons. “You mean...an astronaut?”

Your smile immediately drops into a disappointed frown. You demanded upmost reverence, so you didn’t really appreciate it when he questioned you. “No, no. Not an astronaut. A space adventure. s-p-a-c-e a-d-v-e-n-c-h-u-r-r. Gosh, Kookie. If you want me to bring you along in my journeys, you have to keep up.” Jungkook only nodded, trying his best to stifle a chuckle. He won the 3rd grade spelling bee, so he was at least 85% confident the word adventurer didn't have a 'ch' in it.

He decided to let it go though. He knew—the same way he knew that you’d certainly cry if he corrected you—that you were afraid of heights. If it took weeks to encourage you to finally climb a roof, he was the certain you wouldn’t be able to handle the height of the galaxy. But then again, he always had a soft spot for you. “I’m building a space ship right now actually! Its called the Bon Voyage. When it's finished, I’m going to Pluto. You won’t believe how big space is. There are strawberries there!"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your silly declaration, and even then, he felt sad. He knew that being a space adventurer—being able to maneuver gravity and time on your own whims—was only an innocent imagination of escapism, but still. Every single time you’d flinch when a hand was brought up near you, every time you’d pull on your jacket despite it being hot, he wished your imagination could be real. Wished he could make it real for you—keep you safe from earth and all your troubles.

“I’d like to see the strawberries.. with you,” Jungkook smiled softly. You grinned, and it was the most precious thing Jungkook saw as you stuck your pinky finger out. “Then it’s settled, I’m taking you with me.”

“To pluto?” He wrapped his small finger with yours, and you sealed it with your thumbs pressed against each other's. “To pluto!”

Jungkook was in a fit of laughter, and despite burying your face further into your hands, you couldn't help but smile. “I can’t believe you knew I was lying. God, I must’ve looked like a total idiot.” His elbows were pressed against yours now, sending a surge of warmth to your heart at the familiar skin ship. Jungkook must have not noticed, for he only kept giggling, and you certainly wouldn't bring it up. “It was cute, really. The strawberries and everything. It was really cute.”

"Whatever, Jungkook," you rolled your eyes, and uncovering your eyes, you looked at him. Truly looked at him this time. His smooth, unwrinkled uniform. His hair that grew over time, kissing past his eyelashes and swaying with the wind. The tiny mole peeking under his bottom lip, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he grinned widely. The speckled brown of his eyes were so warm, almost dreamlike against the golden sun. Under long years of an uncalled contact, of an untouched hand, of a voiceless wonder—‘how have you been?’ ‘what was on your mind today?’—you saw the Jungkook you once knew, your dearest friend. And with his smile, you found your heart aching and full at the same time.

ringggggg!

The alarm jolts the both of you, severing spring’s heartbeat as loud chatter and footsteps disrupt the moment from open windows.

You only stare at each other for a brief second before you give a half smile, “that's the bell, we should go.” Without waiting for an answer, you followed the pace of the rest of school, but before you could take a step down the staircase, Jungkook takes your hand. His grip isn’t tight or rough. Its gentle, reluctant. You turn around, and the sun is behind him, kissing the back of his head with its golden, stray flakes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your brows. “I...its just..." It takes a moment before Jungkook speaks, cheeks tinged with a faint red. "Y/n I, I miss—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt in masked panic, averting your eyes as you pulled your hand back. In truth, you were scared. Finals week would be soon and you didn’t think you could handle any more mental strain than you already had, especially not with him. “I-I think we’re going to be late.” Jungkook eyes widen for a second, stricken with dejection. He mumbles, “right...”

You don’t dare to look at him, turning away, you say, “it was nice talking to you again. Bye, Jungkook.”

ACT 2. | DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR

The second time you see Jungkook again, the spring showers are sharp against your skin. You had just gotten off from your 6 hour shift, and where the sunset hues of timid pink and vibrant yellow were supposed to be, the overcast sky was instead. It's been about 30 minutes since you clocked off, but you knew your dad was home, so you decided to take the long way back.

It didn't matter that you were a blur of blue walking in grey tainted streets. Didn’t matter that the downpour soaked your clothes or that cars occasionally splashed you with murky road puddles. You could be anywhere, and anywhere would be better than where your dad was.

Droplets drooped down your eyelashes, dribbling down onto your phone. It’s screen illuminated your color drained face. You stared at Taehyung’s contact, biting your lip nervously.

YOU :

hey taehyung, can i come over? if that's possible of course|

hey taehyung, can i come over? i|

hey taehy/

.../

i need you|

Your thumb hovered over the tempting, blue send button. Press it, Y/n. Just press it. (But would he mind?) He said it was okay to ask for help. (But... what if he's busy right now?) It's okay to ask. (You'd just be bothering him. If you're too needy, he'll push you away, you know that.) Just press the damned—

“Y/n!” A hand reaches your back, and although it was a mere brush, you yelp in alarm, instantly stumbling back. When you're sure you're about to be submerged into a puddle, a hand firmly grasps your forearm, steadying you as the said person pulls you closer to them. The rain stops—or rather, patters against an umbrella now hovering over you. Your eyes flutter from the hand holding you to the hand holding the umbrella handle, and lastly, the holder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook half laughs. When you don’t reply, your mouth only agape, he adds, “are you okay?” It takes you a moment before you nod. You were close, as close two people could be under a small umbrella (or was it because Jungkook has gotten really big?), so you take a step back. But before you could feel even one raindrop on your face again, Jungkook pulls you back into him, “I don’t want you getting sick, y/n.”

“I’m already soaked anyways,” you frown, but he only disregards you. “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere.”

When his brows threatened to crease, you add, “Got off work a few minutes ago, I was just taking a stroll.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and you were sure he was going to say something in the lines of, “in the rain? have you gone mad?” But to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers intertwine with yours. “My homes not far. Come with me?”

"Your...home?” You repeat dumbly, disregarding how warm his hand was—how you missed it, how right it felt in yours. “Yeah, if thats okay with you. If not, then mind if I walked with you?” You pause, taking in Jungkook’s attire. What he was doing in a button down, black trousers, and sleek shoes, you didn’t know—but his dry state save for the few droplets on his clothes meant that he'd much rather prefer to be under a roof. You weren’t sure if he was going to take no for an answer, and being under shelter did sound pleasant. At least, more pleasant than being in wet socks. “Okay,” you say, “take me home.”

When you arrive, you're relieved to discover Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are on a business trip. You missed the Jeons, truly—they were the only family you’ve ever known, but you didn’t think you were ready to see them again.

You remembered Jungkook’s house being an absolute palace when you were a child—modernized with elegance adorned with a scenic garden and a clean landscape—but it still didn’t fail to leave your jaw agape. Expansive was always an understatement. “Here, get changed,” Jungkook hands a towel, an oversized sweater and sweatpants, and of course, fuzzy socks. You only nodded as he led you through the familiar halls to his room. “Just call for me when you’re done, kay?”

“Mm,” you mumbled, still in a daze even after he left. Bittersweet nostalgia filled your nostrils with the scent of vanilla and almonds, a soy candle he still apparently loves. It's only been three years since you’ve last set foot on his grey, hardwood floors, but you still noticed the subtle changes. Instead of pokemon action figures—burnished, golden trophies filled his glass shelves. They were only a few Jungkook was really proud of, otherwise his room would be brimmed with his accomplishments.

Picture perfect polaroids capturing euphoric memories and cheerful grins scattered Jungkook's walls. A refined stereo set replaced the bright blue boom box of your childhood, the one covered with doraemon stickers and scratches. Memories of 4th grades' January flooded your mind, when the blandness of the month was disrupted with color as the two of you jammed to Ego by JHOPE on repeat. Jungkook may have added and taken a few things out, but you found anchor in what stayed the same. His plants that hung from the ceiling were still there, ivies draped with growth over the past years. Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s long time idol, smiled from a framed poster on his wall. Everything was still polished with his neatness, a habit you had always commended him for.

As you dried your damp hair, a photo frame catches your eye, sitting on the side of his bookshelf. Your breath catches in your throat. You slowly walk to the dainty item, painted white and blue to resemble noon skies. In the corner of the frame ignited a bright, pale limerence. Sparks of vivid blue and tangerine whipped through the wooden confines. You felt your heart thump against your chest. It was a—

"Daytime shooting star!" You gleamed, holding a paint brush into the sky, the handle rough from years of dried paint. It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after the end of seventh grade. Cicadas sung adamant songs through Jungkook's cracked open window as the two of you sat on his floor, blanketed with a fuzzy iron man carpet.

He looked at you quizzically, "a daytime shooting star?" As far as Jungkook knew, there was no such thing. "Yeah," you chirp. "That's you, Kook. You're my daytime shooting star." Jungkook nearly dropped his paint brush then, risking his favorite carpet as he looked at you, wide eyed with stun. You were wearing his t-shirt as per usual, your face smudged with blue paint and an innocent smile. Jungkook hated you for it.

It was always your choice of words—my Jungkook, my Kook, my Kookie, and now, my daytime shooting star—that he swore would be the death of him every single time. He didn't even know what you meant, but he didn't care, because being called yours was enough to kill him.

"Th-Thats stupid," he mumbled as he looked away, a futile attempt to hide his burning cheeks. "That doesn't even make sense." When the air shifted to silence, Jungkook immediately regretted his words. He quickly turned back around, fearing he accidentally hurt your feelings due to his own fluster. Maybe that was when Jungkook realized you really had grown up since the 6th grade, because this time, tears didn't drip down your cheeks. Instead, your eyes were curious and doe as you tilted your head to your side. "Does it matter?"

"What?

“A lot of things don’t make sense, but does it have to matter?” You frowned.

“I-I don’t—”

“I like you a lot, Kook,” and though you weren't at the least bit shy saying so, Jungkook’s emotions exploded everywhere. “I don’t think you need reasons to like someone, but you’re my daytime shooting star, Kook, and that's my reason. Can't I just like you? Does it...does it have to make sense?”

It felt like light years as Jungkook stared, red as he looked into the golden specks of your eyes, glinting from the blazing sun. “I-I don't know,” he gulped, his voice small. He was going to leave it at that at first. He didn't know what to say—what he could say. His mind was as clumsy and berserk as a deflating balloon to your previous words, but when he saw your sullen eyes and mopey pout, he felt an inadvertent panic in his gut.

His eyes shifted to his boom box. Etched on the side of the speaker was Doraemon, giving him a childish wink and thumbs up. Jungkook groaned in annoyance and you looked up, curious as he scratched the back of his head. "M-maybe we could...see it," he mumbled, barely grumbling, but your heart leapt with every syllable of his words. "Someday, together. The—"

“Daytime shooting star.”

You jumped, instantly whirling around to see Jungkook leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his torso. His eyes were soft, as if his gaze itself caressed you. “Y-You...” your thumb grazed the flimsy wood. “You still have this.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t have a photo,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. “14 years of friendship and you’d think we’d finally have a perfect picture to put in the frame.” It was pretty silly now that you thought about it. Despite spending a whole summer’s day decorating the item with childlike ambivalence, you never allowed Jungkook to slide a photo in it. No, it couldn’t just be any glossy photograph. You fussed over the concept of a perfect portrait, but nothing ever satisfied you enough, and with each passing year, it must've slipped your mind.

“I don’t get it... We haven’t talked for like, three years, and you still have this?”

"Does it have to make sense that I did?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyelids lowering to look down at you. You open your mouth to reprimand him for using your words against you, but no words come out. Fuck. You swear it was his eyes—you’ve always said they were full of magic when you were children. It must’ve been that damned spellbinding luster that stole your voice. “What did you mean?” Jungkook takes a tentative step forward.

“Huh?” It came out like a breath.

Maybe it was the dim incandescence of the room, complementing the silhouette of his sculpted physique. Maybe it was the fact that the cloth he wore seemed too thin, too tense around his biceps and broad shoulders. Maybe it was because his first three buttons were left unclasped, teasing the faint outline of his chest. Or maybe it was the fact that you were so used to being in eye level with him—hell, looking down at him in the earlier points of your life. But you realized then, as Jungkook stared at you with a glint you couldn’t seem to quite recognize, how small you felt in front of him. Under him.

“When you said I was your daytime shooting star. You never explained it to me, what you meant,” Jungkook takes one final step forward, and the distance between you is insignificant. You don’t move—didn’t even think you could with your back pressed against his bookshelf. You could only return his gaze, doe eyes wavering beneath his. “What I meant to you...what I still mean to you.”

Your breath hitches, “Kook...”

“Fuck, I missed that,” his voice is low, breathless as his fingers brush your cheeks. “So fucking much, Y/n. I missed you calling my name, whatever you say. Kook, Kookie, Jungkook—I don’t care, just missed your voice, I still do. Don’t you know? Everyday, how much I long for you?”

Your eyes widen at his assertion. Wherever this was coming from, you didn't have the heart to stop it. "J-Jung—"

“—I miss you, Y/n. Any time I'm not around you it hurts and every time I am it hurts even worse.” His voice is so gentle, you fear he could hear the rhythm of your heart beat, palpitating with the heavy raindrops against his window.

“Why....why did you push me away?”

The waves were restless that cold, autumn night—you saw it through the fogged window of the train. Exhaustion tugged your eyes and your muscles screamed with every movement. As the train tracks rumbled beneath you, you wondered if you were even alive anymore, at least, it didn’t feel like it. All that was certain to you was the midnight stars outside, following you no matter where you went.

You didn’t know when the train entered the station, sighing to a stop as the doors slid open with a loud gush. It was probably 2am—Maybe 3, and the carts didn’t hold people this time around. At least you didn’t think it did, you honestly didn’t have the energy to even think about it. You only wondered how further you could go without knowing exactly how far you already went. Your neck ached from your head hanging low, and if it was cold, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was numb. An aching, dull pain eating away at your heart.

It was when you heard rushed heaves and loud footsteps that your eyes widened to see a familiar pair of green converse stop in front of you. You lift up your head to see Jungkook, cheeks red either from crying or the cold, maybe both. His brows were deeply furrowed as he crouched down, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“C-Can you hear me, Y/n? Are—are you okay?” You only nodded. He felt like a mirage, a dream.

You didn’t know what he saw in you that caused the droplets of sorrow to drip from his eye—whether it was the bruises covering your body, or the deep eye bags from restless nights at work—but it made you sad, how he looked at you. You wished he’d stopped. You wished you could be so far away that he didn’t have to look at you anymore.

“You’re, fuck, you’re freezing,” Jungkook quickly pulls his coat off and swathes it around you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.” You shook your head, your dull headache being replaced with confusion. “Why are you even apologizing, Kook? H-How did you even find me? Why are you even here?” You had turned off your cell the whole day and gave no indication to where you’d be. You didn’t even tell Jungkook how you were feeling, it made no sense to see him there, holding you.

“We’re soulmates remember? Of course I’d know,” Jungkook tries his best to give a smile. “I’m here because you are. Just—look, lets get you out of here first okay?” Before you can tell him you can walk by yourself, he lifts you up, taking your hand as he leads you out. “The next train back to Seoul arrives in 8 minutes,” Even when Jungkook and you sit down on a bench, he doesn’t let go. He’s shaking, you realize, with his fingers intertwined with yours. It was as if he wanted to hold you tighter, but he was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of hurting you? Or afraid of you hurting him if you slip out of his grasp any further?

“How did you know?” You begin again. “I told you I was sick, I called the school too. A-and how did you even know where I was?”

“You called in sick for three days Y/n,” he frowns, “and you haven’t texted me once. I was so worried, fuck, I was so fucking worried when I went to your house to see that you weren't there. All my calls went straight to voice mail, and I saw...I-I saw the shattered beer bottles, the blood. I-I panicked, even thought of calling the police,” when your face goes rigid, he assures you, “of course I wouldn’t though, I would never do that you. But anyway, it took me awhile to guess, and I wasn’t even sure—just started running. I imagined you’d definitely be in a space ship to Pluto right about now, but I took a risky bet on the train station. You know, being much more accessible to us and all.” When Jungkook finishes light heartedly, you give a dry laugh, “you know me so well, Koo."

His small grin falls shortly as silence does, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on your hand. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, sad, “You always...you always said you’d bring me. We’re a team aren’t we? You and me, I-I thought...I would’ve been there, Y/n. You know I'd be there for you in a heartbeat. Don't you trust me?”

"Of course I trust you, Kook," you quickly assure him through your thin veil of tears. It hurt too much to know you were the reason for the crack in his voice, for the ache in his heart, for his glazed eyes. You couldn't stand his pity, but you couldn't stand being the source of his grief either. "Then why didn't you call me..? All I ever wanted was to be there for you, all I ever want is to be by your side, y/n. Why won't you just let me help you?”

“Because you don’t understand, Kook,” you croak. “You don't understand how hard it is for me—how hard it's always been. It'll only ever always be like this, and I-I can't just...fuck Kook, I can't just depend on you every time I get hurt. My problems are for me to sort out, I have no one but myself.”

“But you have me, y/n," the tears you fought so hard to hold back falls when Jungkook covers both your cheeks with his hands. The boy inhales sharply, trying to calm himself from crying any longer as he presses his forehead against yours. "It hurts me so much when you talk like that, y/n. You have me, you always have me. A-and it scares me because sometimes it just feels like I don't have you, that I never did and—"

"Jung—"

"You’ve been so distant lately," his breath is shaky and hot against your skin. "....It feels like you’re going to leave me. Please, don’t. Don't leave me behind like this, y/n.” You don't say anything else, too overwhelmed with his heartache beating with yours. In that cold autumn night, all you could do was cry in his arms.

The train arrives shortly.

“Lets go home," Jungkook murmurs sweetly against your skin. He kisses your forehead softly, and when he does, it feels like you already are home.

“Come here,” he grins, standing up with his hand out. You take it. “Have you eaten yet? I can make us food when we get back. What would you like?”

“Honestly? Just ramen.” Jungkook groans as you step inside the desolate train cart. “You know I could cook something way better for us."

"Nothing is better than ramen with eggs, Kook," you chide, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes. You take your hand away from him, and Jungkook tenses, only to relax when you cup his cheek once more. “But seriously, thank you, Jungkook. For everything. For worrying, being here for me, for finding me." He smiles, his eyes like crescent moons luminescent with love as he looks down at you, "always.”

"You said you'd do anything for me right?”

“Of course, anything, y/n.”

“Then please stop after this," you keep your small smile even as Jungkook's brows furrowed with confusion. You said it so simply, so plainly that he thought he might have heard you wrong. "What do you...?"

“Nothing will change after this. Nothing. I can't escape from my life, I can't escape from debt or my dad no matter how hard I try—and being the cause of your anxiety won't help me. I don't need a savior, and I don't think you need me holding you back either. We're burdening each other Kook.” With a heavy gush, the train doors start sliding shut and before Jungkook can even comprehend your words, you step out. “Don't have worry about me anymore, okay?”

“W-Wait— y/n—!” He’s quick to run, but it's too late. The doors slide shut, finally severing the thin red string of fate that held the two of you.

The rain falls with your tears as you cry into your hands, guilt washing over you like tidal waves. You remember his face the most, how heartbreak and betrayal etched with the dying fade of his smile. How you left him that day, how you left him everyday after that.

“I-I was just so tired, so tired of everything. I... I'm so sorry I pushed you away. I just didn't want you to worry about me anymore. You were always so good, everything about you, and I was scared I was holding you back and...and it hurt too much to stay knowing I was." Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand gently pulled your head to his body. You're too stunned to move, but when you gather yourself, you decide you don't want to. You just cry, burying your face into his chest, your hands tightening around his shirt.

"I never once stopped thinking about you, y/n," he mumbled into your hair. "I never once not worried, never once not looked for you, and you—god, y/n—you never once held me back. Silly girl, don’t you know you were the only one who kept me together?” Jungkook lets out a noise, somewhere in between a sigh and a groan as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, "I did everything, anything to keep myself distracted from you. Competitions, sports, art, studies, friends.” His soft hair tickled your jaw as he nuzzled closer into the crook of your neck. “But I couldn’t, y/n, it was always you, it was never not you. Do you know how torn I was, watching you and not being able to talk to you? To hold you, be afraid of losing you even more than I already had?"

The pitter-pattering of the rain against the rooftop fills the voice you can’t seem to conjure. "Did you ever miss me?” Jungkook pulls away, and your eyes lock with his under the blue world. You realize then, by looking at him, just how scared he was. If you pushed him away again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Reluctantly, you bring your hand to sweep Jungkook's tousled bangs away, brushing your fingers against the shell of his ear. "I did," you whisper, and more clearly, "I-I did, of course I did.” When Jungkook doesn't respond, your hand trails down his neck ... to his shoulders ... to his chest. "Do you hate me?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, "N-no." He could never.

"Your heart is beating so fast.... are you afraid?"

"I am."

"I am too," you lift his hand and place it against your own chest, laying it atop your own heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, you don’t catch the pink of his cheeks when you’re too busy staring at the sad stars in his eyes. "I was too, back then. I know it's selfish, and i-i'm sorry I hurt you, but I hope you understand what kind of position I was in. I was so young, so scared—I just wanted to be alone, felt like it was a way to protect myself from anything else that could hurt me. I’m different now, I think, more stable—whatever that is," you chuckle dryly. "I can’t promise I won’t push you away, but I won’t leave anymore, really, s-so...."

Jungkook's eyes soften, his lids lowering when you say, "Can you trust me?"

"Of course," Jungkook breathes, “always.”

ACT III. | EPIPHANY

"Just go to sleep already, Jeon."

You've been repeating yourself for the past 3 hours, watching him restlessly saunter around his room. "...swear i’m missing something, I just don't know what..." Jungkook, like the countless of other times, dismissed you as he continued to tap his finger on his chin, mumbling to himself in intense focus. It was only when you’ve finally had enough, groaning and hurling a tissue box at him—which he instantly caught with ease—that he finally noticed your glare. "What was that for?"

"I said just go to sleep already!" You exhaled frustratedly, "you packed your whole room at this point, Kook. I swear you have, like, triple of everything you don't even need—so for the thousandth time, could you please just shut the lights?" It's been a few weeks since that one spring evening, and time started ticking again with Jungkook by your side. It took you awhile to adjust to his company, it was odd—but everything was odd at this point. Odd but comforting when Jungkook started visiting the rooftop every lunch, odd but reassuring when he'd pick you up after every shift, and odd but exciting to spend the night with him before the anticipated field trip to Jeju island. The four days were a granted escape before the tumultuous finals of the upcoming winter. Even you were a bit eager to go, having finally taken a justified leave off work.

"Fine, fine, but if I do end up forgetting something important, I blame you," Jungkook huffs, sauntering to the light switch. “Go ahead,” you roll your eyes, and with a small click!, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. “Finally,” You snuggled into his pillows, but when the bed dips down right next to you, you realized you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to shut his mouth as well. "Will you sit next to me on the way there?" You squinted to the darkness, raising your brows at the silhouette of his figure. "Jungkook, you're literally my only friend, do you even need to ask?" He chuckled, "but will you? We don't have to sit with my friends if you don't want to."

You hummed, thinking as Jungkook carefully brushed loose strands of hair away from your face, the warmth of his fingers trailing down the side of your neck. You were reluctant about being seen with Jungkook at first, but the choice wasn't left to you when his friends spotted you and him at the library sometime ago. It honestly wasn't as bad as you expected, and more surprisingly, you even clicked with a few with them. Seokjin was one you gravitated to the most, being a truly funny and charming senior that you felt you could look up to. "No, it's fine. I like your friends." Jungkook’s head perked up, and the darkness captures the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Really, you do?" You smile, knowing how happy that must have made him. "Really, I do. Now can we please go to sleep? I'd like to be at least remotely awake for the first day."

“Okay, okay, grumpy head," a bunny like grin appears on his face as pinches your cheek, chuckling when you only grumble in return.

He strokes your hair down one last time before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good night, y/n.”

"Good night, Kook," the reassuring warmth of his skin leaves yours, and you hear him shuffle in his own mattress on the floor. It's been awhile since you've felt like this, so safe. Though it didn't necessarily matter, being with Jungkook was different with Taehyung, you noticed. When it came to Taehyung, it was as if all your problems could dissipate with his touch. That for a moment, they could just disappear.

When it came to Jungkook, though, your problems were still there. They existed, they were real, and yet, when you with him, it felt like everything would be okay. He was like a breath fresh air, and you felt like you could get through anything—whatever it may be, as long as he was there. With that thought, you slowly, but surely, drifted to sleep.

ringgggg!! ringgg!!! ringggg!!

What happened afterwards came in fragments of fuzzy memories, distorted with exhaustion. It was the phone ringing first, then it was the shuffle of Jungkook rising from his mattress. The ringing, his heavy yawn, the ringing, groggy footsteps, the ringing, the clatter of the drawer—and finally, silence. "Y/n...?" His voice barely reached where your mind was, deep inside the depths of whatever dream dimension you were in. "Y/n," he said again. No reply. "Y/n... Y/n!"

"What?!" You groaned, lazily sitting up with a snarl and a bed head. The ringing starts again and you rub your eyes to where your phone screen illuminated Jungkook's face. "What is it?" You mumble, a little concerned to his expression. "God, is it Mrs. Joomi again? I just paid this month’s rent like a few d—"

"Mr. Kim."

You freeze. The two, single words are akin to iced buckets of water being splashed onto your face, instantly waking you up.

"Taehyung with a heart and moon emoji—but that's Mr. Kim, isn't it? In that photo? That's his first name." Your heart lurches forward. 태형☽<3, displaying a low quality photo of him that you secretly took while he was preparing breakfast. It was once a happy morning, and this was once a happy night—disrupted by its forbidden rays of joy.

When Jungkook finally looks at you through the stark darkness, you can only stare back, your heartbeats filling the silent stun of your dry throat. The bubbly melody stops, and when you don't say anything, Jungkook's voice grows louder, "Y/n what—what the hell is this? Why is Mr. Kim calling you at 3am? Why do you have a photo of him? Why is his contact—"

"J-Jungkook," You nervously moved to sit on the front edge of the bed, attempting to speak as calmly as you can. Jungkook would understand...right? He wouldn't tell, he couldn't. He knows you, your financial situation. It was okay. "Remember when you asked me not to push you away? Well, this is me letting you in. This is me trusting you Jungkook, so please just hear me out." Under the moonlight's glower, you see the bob of his adam's apple rise and fall. "Taehyung, he—"

"Taehyung?" You wince, the acidity of his voice like bitter poison. "I-I mean, Mr. Kim. M-Mr. Kim, he...helps me."

"Helps you?" Jungkook scoffs. "At 3am? How could he—" Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes go wide. "Y/n, you don't mean..."

You nod stiffly, "he gives me money in exchange for....i-its consensual! He helps me," your cheeks heat up, hating yourself for allowing this to happen, having to explain yourself. “A-anyway the point is, you won't tell anyone, right? You understand, don't you, Kook?"

"Understand?! Y/n—he’s a teacher! He's seven fucking years older than us—are you stupid, what were you thinking?!" The sting of his words ring in your ears like a harsh slap across your face. Throughout your years together, Jungkook had barely had the heart to scold you, so you were more than unprepared for his hurtful words. Your shock quickly subdues into anger though, and you stand up, “what I was thinking? What I was thinking?! I don't know Kook, maybe thinking about my fucking electric bill! Thinking about how to pay off debt—how to buy food for fuck's sake! I've looked after myself my whole life, and this is no different."

"Still—This is wrong, y/n! You know that! There are other ways like, like—"

"Like what Jungkook?!" You're in front of him now, pushing at his chest. "Working my ass off in nine to fives? Well I do that, Kook, every fucking day and yeah, a fucking disappointment for me too that it's not enough. You could never know how its like for me, but out of everyone, you're supposed to...! You’re supposed to understand,” you chuckle bitterly, shaking your head as a futile attempt to shake the hot tears away.

"Y/n...” Jungkook’s anger diminishes into a frustrated panic. He tries to reach for you, hold you, anything to keep you from crying because of him—but you turn away, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighs harshly, his voice much softer now, “I just—out of all these years, you could've asked me. I was always there, y/n, and you never accepted me. I know we talked about this already, but the fact that...” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do understand, but I was always here. I was your best friend, why did you have to go to him? Am I...am I that unreliable to you?"

Your own heart sinks for him this time, quickly shaking your head. “No, Kook. I-It's not like that. I'm sorry this has to be so complicated, that i've made you feel small. You are reliable, Jungkook. You're my safe place, my person—always have been. I appreciated you so much but you need to understand how terrible it felt for me back then. I hated being pitied by you. You’re my friend, not a fucking philanthropist."

Jungkook takes your hand this time, "I never wanted to help you because I pitied you, y/n. You were always so strong, I don't think you could ever be someone I could pity. I wanted to help because I cared for you, loved you, and it breaks my heart knowing that you went through such lengths when you could've turned to me."

You sigh, threading your hands over the back of his hair. "It was all just circumstantial, Kook. Taehyung found me at a really low point in my life. I didn't search for it, but he was there and i’m thankful for yim, so please Jungkook, please." Your eyes wavered beneath his sad stare, hoping, pleading. Jungkook bites on his lip, cursing, "look...I won't tell on you if that's what you're thinking. I would never do that to you, i'm just worried. He's calling you at nearly 4am, y/n—shit, h-has he hurt you? Did he ever make you do anything you didn't want to?" Jungkook looks frantic for a second, but you quickly shake your head. "N-no! No, god no, he's never hurt me! You know him Kook, Tae would never hurt me." You miss how you even said Tae or how Jungkook's jaw clenched to it.

"I won't say anything, y/n, at least...not yet. You have to end it."

"W-What?"

"He took advantage of you in a low position in your life, y/n."

"N-No Kook, you don't understand!"

"It's not your fault, y/n, it's completely his. He's the adult here, it was wrong. You have to end this."

"But I can't! The money, Kook, you know I can't."

"Then let me help you," he steps closer. Your hands slide to his chest now, shaking your head. "No, Jungkook, my answer has been no and its still no. I refuse to be your charity case," you scoff. "Then you're not going to be. I'll pay you to sleep with me too."

Your eyes instantly shoot open. What..?

"I'll pay you to sleep with me," he repeats calmly. "Anytime you need it, anytime I want it, and I'm certain I'll be able to give you more than whatever Mr. Kim could." Your mouth only hangs open, words dying in your dry throat.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, taking a step closer. This time, you take a step back. "If you were fine with doing it with Mr. Kim, shouldn't it be fine with me?"

"N-No," your voice is barely a shaky whisper. More clearly, "No, Jungkook. I can't just—we just started talking again. You're my only friend, I won't ruin us just for—"

"I won't let anything happen to us, I promise y/n."

"B-but—"

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? Plus, isn't this situation more ideal? You'd get paid more and you wouldn't have to rely on—"

"I love him!"

Its Jungkook's turn to be silent. "What..?"

"I love him Kook," you croak, heat overwhelming your cheeks.

"Y/n..."

"I know it's wrong, I know he seems like an asshole but he's not. I know him, Kook, and i’m mature enough to know myself too. I made my decision back then, and I keep making it today because...I love him." You can’t help but feel your anguish trickle down your eyes, and you cry into your hands. That’s it then. It’s done. You’ve finally admitted it, yet despite the burden of the untold truth lifting—you felt heavier, worse. By now, Jungkook would’ve pulled you into a warm embrace. He’d hush you with soothing murmurs and delicate kisses on your forehead. He’d trail his fingers through your hair, tell you that he knew, that he gets it, that it was okay. But he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You were crying for another man, and all he could feel was ache.

Your phone rings once more, and from the night stand, you see Taehyung’s figure on the dimmed screen. You reluctantly look at Jungkook, but when he doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, you take it. "H-hello?"

"Hey, doll," Taehyung's voice is low. "I’m sorry I keep calling, I feel really shit for waking you up at this time. I know the Jeju trip is in a few hours, but I just needed to talk to you."

"No, no, its fine. I was already awake anyways, um...what is it?" You turned away from Jungkook, nervously biting on your lip. Despite everything that had unfolded between the two of you, it was strange. Taehyung never called you at this time after all—and him saying you guys needed to talk only heightened your nerves.

"It's better to talk in person. Where are you? I can pick you up." You shake your head, despite not him being able to see you. "N-No, i’ll come over...is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll see you soon." With that, the call ends. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on your back—its overwhelming, and you’re scared to face the definite disgust and judgement in his them, so you don’t look at him when lift your bag across your shoulder. "I’m sorry, I...I need to go.”

ACT IV | LOVE IS NOT OVER

Jungkook hasn't seen you since last night. You never showed up at the meeting spot, never answered his calls or texts—never even once read the 68 of them.

He was certain you came, though—he checked in with Mrs. Yoon before boarding, but you were always good at hiding, and Jungkook was always an impatient seeker. The whole process of arriving, checking into the hotel, and splitting into groups was a whole blur that ended in him never finding you. After spending hours exploring the designated routes through antique shops, cute cafes, pretty sceneries, and meadows with his friends, he started to fear that you didn't come after all—that Mrs. Yoon had made a mistake.

Surely, he would've bumped into you at least once through the whole trip. And where the fuck was Mr. Kim? Jeju was supposed to be the pinnacle of his highschool experience. He’d be elated with the giddiness of being out with his friends, kissed with the gift of delicious freedom. But it was 7:46 PM now, and even when he overlooked the vast beach dipped with sunset's entrancing glow, he felt anything but. Not when Seokjin cracked his lame dad jokes, nor when Eunha got him to bike through scenic trails.

Jungkook sighed as the strawberry milk clattered to the bottom of the vending machine. He spotted it tucked away from the corner of the museum his group wandered into. He excused himself, relieved that their chaperone actually trusted him to be by himself. He needed the space.

He poked the straw through the carton, leaning against the cold metal as his eyes gazed over the glistening waves. He hated you. Always leaving him like this, always making him restless and unsure.

It was when he looked for the moon in the dusk sky that he noticed a familiar silhouette amidst the shore. It wavered with the wind, and Jungkook instantly felt his scorn. The man's jeweled hand was holding a cigarette between two fingers, overlooking the ocean with distant eyes.

Fuck the sand, fuck his expensive shoes, fuck everything. Jungkook doesn't know when he starts running, but he doesn't stop.

It all happened so past—the sun would have missed it if not for the perfect view she had just over the excited ripples of the ocean. When Taehyung noticed his presence, it was already too late. Jungkook had grabbed his collar, and without a second of hesitance, punched him across his face. Taehyung fell into the sand with a grunt, cursing loudly. “What the fuck?!” He turned to his perpetrator, his glare quickly diminishing into pure shock to see his own student right in front of him, eyes poisoned with resentment and hatred.

Taehyung's emotions came whirling at him all at once. The confusion, then the anger, the urge to scream at him and punch him until he was left bleeding on the shore—then the mediating side of him, understanding that he'd done more than enough to get his ass fired, why the fuck would he...?—then the realization. He sighs roughly, shaking his head as he stands. He isn't up for long though, as Jungkook takes another swing. Taehyung’s cheeks scream with stinging pain, but Jungkook’s on top of him, and he doesn’t stop.

"You fucking bitch!" Jungkook seethed, barely feeling his fist continuously bury into Taehyung’s face. He knew. He knew how much you loved him, he knew Taehyung helped you. He knew you'd get angry, maybe even hate him for the rest of his life for this—But maybe that's why he couldn't control himself. He didn't care if you thought Taehyung was some angel. To him, Taehyung was just a disgusting predator who took advantage of your situation, and deep down, maybe it was more for a selfish reason. Taehyung was a man who touched you, who had you—who wasn’t him. "You disgusting fuck. Don't ever fucking touch y/n again, you hear me?!" Another hit, but Jungkook is too blinded with anger to realize the scary amount of blood drooling down his nose and lips, from the cuts of his cheeks. "I know," Taehyung rasps.

"If you know then why did you do it?! You’re a fucking creep, you’re disgusting.”

"I know," another hit, and blood stains his shirt. Taehyung curses and grabs Jungkook's fist before he can throw another punch, pushing him into the sand. "You dick, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god I'll fucking kill you." Jungkook thrashes under Taehyung, but the teacher buries both his wrists into the ground, his weight holding the younger boy down.

“Sh-Shit, Look, I know how you must feel about me, and I know I deserve this, but I would much rather avoid being seen like this so I'm going to say this quick and you're going to listen."

"Fuck you," Jungkook growls, glaring at the man on top of him. His eyes were unreadable, almost enigmatic, and Jungkook hated every unwavering speckle of deep brown in it.

"I don't regret it," Taehyung disregards him. "I liked her—y/n—and no matter what you think of me, that stands true. You must like her too, she told me about you some nights. I have to admit, hearing about another boy when she's laying in my own bed wasn't very pleasant for me, but you made her happy. You mean a lot to her," Jungkook shut his eyes tightly, cursing as he tried to get the image of Taehyung holding you in his arms out of his mind. "I know you don't think I care about her, but I do, so just fucking listen for a second okay? I know i'm no good for her, but you aren't either. You're too immature, we both know y/n deserves way more. See where you are now? Right under me when you could be there for her? Have you even seen her today? Have you asked her how she's been?"

"What... what the fuck are you saying."

Taehyung sighs, and stumbles back to stand, wincing as the harsh winds slap his bloodied face. He nimbly looks for his cigarette, and before he lights it, Jungkook grabs his lighter. "I said what the fuck do you mean?!"

"I ended it with her," Taehyung glares at him, his voice firm, cold as he snatches the lighter back. Jungkook feels his heart drop. “You...what?"

There's silence, and when the man turns to look at the sun drowning into the ocean’s abyss, he lights the cigarette, "the fireworks are starting soon." Jungkook's eyes widens. Before he knows it, he's already running.

You’ve always loved the fireworks.

His footsteps that were submerged into sand were now padding against the concrete of the sidewalk, his heart pounding in his ears. A few cars must have honked at him here and there as he ran through the streets, unknowing of his surrounding because all he can think of his getting to his destination—you. He frantically reaches for his phone, panting.

You

JK : where are you?

my love : my room

my love : 613, 7th floor

JK : on my way.

ACT V. | HOLD ME TIGHT

At least the fireworks were pretty.

Your eyelids drooped, puffed with drowsy red as you watched the sparkling scene on the balcony of the hotel. Evening's cold breeze teased your bare legs, dancing with the delicate ends of your black, satin nightgown. You were hugging yourself yourself, leaning against the cold railings as sparks of vivid red shatter into memories tainted with heartbreak. The red silk sheets that you grasped tightly beneath you. The red lingerie that Taehyung slid off your skin. The red wine he poured into the pan when you told him you were hungry. You liked watching him the most, you thought as he stood in front of the stove, his eyes trained on the steak. You liked watching him unbutton his top, talk about his day, how he let out loud laughter whenever a funny story would come up. You loved when he unveiled himself for you, when he'd strip off his enigmatic persona bare and let you peer into his soul.

But that's all you ever did, you guessed, all you ever could do. You watched him when he smiled down at you, his cold fingertips brushing your waist, and you watched him as he left.

It must've been 4 minutes into the firework show when you heard the doorbell ring. Sighing, you leave the balcony as yellow ignites the night sky. You open the door to Jungkook, his chest heaving up and down, his hair tousled by wind, beads of sweat sticking to his neck.

When he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, you step aside to let him in. You wonder if he was still angry about last night, how he'd react when you tell him—but with the way he looked down at you, tender eyes dawned with sadness, you already understand you don’t have to. "I know," Jungkook steps closer, pulling you into a hug. His warmth embraces you as darkness does when the door clicks shut. "What happened, I know."

You sighed, closing your eyes. The fireworks sounded so distant compared to his heartbeat. Jungkook must've ran for you, you thought as your buried your face into his chest. Of course he would, he always has. Maybe that certainty is what intoxicates you to murmur, "I'll accept it."

"What?"

"What you proposed last night, I'll accept it," you say calmly, quietly. You looked up at him with wavering eyes, "please...I need you right now."

Jungkook's heart practically lurched out of his chest. He knew he should take a step back, tell you that you'd end up regretting it and to take it back before it was too late. He knew, but the devil on his shoulder was much more insistent than his angel, and maybe... maybe his angel wanted it too—so fuck it all.

Jungkook took your lips in a magnetic dance, drawing you closer into him with one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head.

God, you were so lovely. How your head lolled for him, soft, plush lips jarred open. Jungkook has always been good at controlling himself when it came to you, but when he heard the slightest whimper escape your trembling lips, he felt he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He didn't seek for permission to suck your lower lip, didn’t even seek permission to slide his tongue inside your lovely little mouth when you gasped. He held your chin, deepening the kiss. More, more, more—he wanted more of you. He wanted to explore your body, wanted to make your breath tremble, wanted to find out what you liked and disliked under bedsheets. Jungkook wanted to know you better than anyone else had. He wanted you, needed you.

“Kook,” You whimper into him as he pushes you against the wall, holding your thigh up. He grinds his bulge against your clothed cunt, sending wild tremors along your nerves. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He takes your other thigh, and you yelp as he lifts you up. Your surprise quickly washes out with haze when he buries his thick tent further into you. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around his torso. “I can make you feel even better.”

The explosions of the fireworks are blurred with the palpitations of your heart as Jungkook lays you on the bed, his lips immediately finding home in yours. "Love how you sound for me, love," Jungkook’s wet, needy kisses trail down your neck...to your collarbones...to your breast. “So pretty like this, always so pretty,” his fingers ghost your sensitive nipples, perked from evening's cold. He doesn't waste any time to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other.

His cold hand trails down your stomach, finally pressing it down your soaked underwear. He smirks, feeling the soaked outline of your pussy lips. “Already so wet for me baby? How cute."

His plush lips leave your nipple with a pop, instead latching onto the crook of your neck. Your eyes go wide when you realize what he's about to do. “Wait, d-don’t! Not th—ah.” He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence, swiftly sliding your underwear out of the way before pressing a hard thumb over your clit. “Don't deny me, y/n,” His voice is low over your whiny moans. He sucks on the supple of your skin as he slides one, slender finger into you, smoothly drawing it in and out while he rolls your little bud with his other. “Please, need to show everyone that you’re mine,” he murmurs, licking his work, perfectly tinged with a pretty pink . “Besides...” he trails, taking note of your arousal dripping down his wrists. “You love this, don’t you?”

“N-No..! I...ah, K-Kook, Kookie..!” Your voice fails you, moans escaping from your trembling lips. “Jungkook s-stop..!” Jungkook frowns against your skin, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze. “Why not?” His eyes are dark. You try to fight the muddle of your mind as his slow, tentative fingers continue to work on your cunt. “B-Because...because student c-council. It's inappropriate, and your friends will ask, a-and... mm!—“

“Taehyung?” Jungkook says bitterly, but you’re too indulged with the knot in your stomach. You moan loudly, your hands finding anchor wrapped around his biceps. “I'm sure you don’t want Taehyung to see, do you?” Jungkook's pace is furious now, and you barely make out his words through the thick fog of your mind. You feel so close. “Don’t want him to know that you're with me, hm? That i’m finger fucking you into my dumb whore."

His indecent words paint a wild blush on your cheeks. You never knew Jungkook could be like this, could be so mean.

"You know what I think..."

Jungkook lowers himself down between your sweaty thighs, quivering with painful pleasure. "''Think my dumb babygirl wants me to clean her messy little pussy up. Would you like that, love?"

"Y-Yeah," you moan, desperately bucking your hips up, "p-please eat me out, Kook."

"Needy girl," Jungkook lets out a sigh, his pants tightening around his painful hard on. You were so pretty like this, Jungkook swore he could cum just by watching you.

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers away, instead squeezing around your squishy hips. You do cry, though, when he gives your pussy a tantalizing lick, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Knew my baby girl would taste so sweet," he groans. His tongue circles around your throbbing bud, sucking on it.

"Fuck! K-Kook, I-I can't," you wail, tears falling down your cheeks. Jungkook only flutters his eyes open, watching you with heated eyes as his tongue works on your wet cunt.

"Please, g-gonna cum, please!" Your back arches. Jungkook's hands the only thing anchoring you down.

"Then cum, baby, cum for me." Jungkok's voice is tender, coaxing like warm honey. With his encouragement, your dripping cunt spasms, unfurling your cream all over him. "That's my girl," His attentive tongue takes your sweet release, the embarrassing sound of slurping clouding your brain.

"You were so good for me, baby," He cooes, planting one final kiss on your quivering bud. Your cheeks tinge with a shy pink.

He lifts himself up, carefully laying over you so his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes search yours under the veil of the moonlight. The fireworks must've stopped along the way, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room. "Tired, love?" Jungkook whispers, and you nod timidly, reaching your arms out to hug him.

Your skin is sticky with sweat like melting ice cream on hot summer days, but Jungkook adores his body pressed against yours. His fingers squeeze your smooth waist, placing gentle kisses on your neck, up your jaw, capturing your lips once more in a slow dance. A thin string line of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls back, and he breaks it off with a gentle graze across your wet lips.

"Think you can continue for me, baby?" Jungkook asks soothingly. "It's okay if you can't, of course. Must've been such a long day for you."

You shake your head, your hand lightly tracing the outline of the small scar on his cheek. You still remember the day he fell off his bicycle, somehow managing to tumble down the hill all the way to the train tracks. It must've been the first time you ever saw him cry.

"I want to."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows perk up. "Because we really don't have to. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to please me. I know you took my offer, but if you aren't ready or comfortable, nothing has to happen. Believe it or not, pleasuring you already makes me feel euphoric." His words have you melt, gentle as a sweet night's lullaby.

"But I want us to feel good together," you say softly. "Please take me, Kookie. I want you." Jungkook's eyes widen, faint pink blooming on his cheeks, and you watch the stars in his eyes grow brighter with your shy gaze. He lets out a small chuckle, "god, you really don't know what you do to me, y/n."

He places a gentle peck on your lips one last time before rising to his knees, discarding his clothes. You're quick to slip off your nightdress and underwear, and you patiently admire Jungkook's toned physique as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Even the moon was enamored with him, tracing its luminous glow from his broad shoulders to his biceps, wrapping around his slim waist.

Your breath hitches when his dick springs out right in front of you, thick and swollen, oozing pre cum. Jungkook watches you with heated eyes, his hand grazing his dick. "Wow," you breathe, sitting up and replacing his hand with yours. Jungkook's hisses when you stroke his cock, doe eyed to his length that throbbed with neglect. "You're so pretty, Kookie. You're pretty everywhere..."

"I should be the one who's telling you that, darling," he lets out a shaky breath through his smile, his hand finding your cheek. "Now, i’d love for that lovely little mouth of yours to suck my cock, but I feel like i'm gonna explode any minute now, and i'd like to do so inside of you," he chuckles when a furious blush takes your cheeks. You let him push you down, positioning himself in between your legs. He takes his pulsating cock in his hands, sliding his glistening head over your cunt. "Would you like that baby? Want me to cum in this cute little pussy? Wanna take Kook's cum like a good girl?" You feel yourself shy from his words, whimpering, "y-yes please, Kookie."

"Tell me how much you want it, baby."

"S-So bad. Kookie p-please, want you to fill me up."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips that made you tremble. "Think your tiny pussy can even take my cock?"

"Y-Yes, m'pussy wants your cock, p-please Kook!"

"Dirty girl, love it when you beg for me," he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your swelling entrance, already having you see stars by the time he fills you up whole. "You okay?" Jungkook breathes out, his forehead falling against yours. You nodded timidly, "j-just need a little time to adjust."

"Okay, baby, tell me when you're ready." He pecks your nose, letting out a shaky sigh as your walls clench around him. When you do, Jungkook takes your knees, pushing them on either side of you so your legs are spread out wide for him.

He pulls out his whole cock so he could see the flush tip of his cock before plunging back into you. You moan loudly to his even pace, bottoming you out with every thrust.

"F-fuck, been wishing for this forever. Just want to punish this pussy for making me wait for this long."

Harsh skin to skin contact and the squelch of your juices mixing together fills your fuzzy mind. You felt so full, you could practically feel him in your belly. "Shit, you're practically swallowing me. You like this, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, love your cock, Kookie," you moan, his pace growing faster and more unforgiving. "I'm never letting you go after this, fuck y/n. You're mine, you’re so fucking mine. Say it, say you're mine, p-please."

"Yours," you whimper, feeling the familiar tingling ecstasy overwhelm your stomach. "O-Only yours, Kookie."

"That's right, baby, open your mouth." You didn't know exactly why, but you didn't question him. He could tell you to do absolutely anything right now and you'd do it. Your wet lips jar open for him, and Jungkook spits in your mouth, sending a wave of tremor through your body. "Swallow."

You listen, obediently swallowing. "That's my girl."

"Kookie, kookie...m'gonna cum!"

"Again baby? You’re so easy, barely have to do anything and you're spilling." You moan to his words, thrusting in and out of you in a hypnotic pace. "Go on then, baby. Cum for me, make a mess over my balls."

Your whole body tenses, feeling the overwhelming wave wash over you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you release around him the second time. "Good girl, baby, so good for me, fuck," Jungkook hisses to your tightening walls squeezing around him, driving himself into your belly until he pours all his cum deep inside of you.

You practically drooled, his load coming out in spurts of thick cream. When he pulls out, your pussy twitches, his cum oozing out. He falls onto your chest, and your heavy pants fill the room.

After awhile, Jungkook lazily pulls you to lay over him. "Okay, baby?"

"Mm," you murmur into his sweaty chest, trying to recollect your breath. You open your mouth to thank him, but a loud explosion takes your voice. In a second, waves of yellow wash the room, then blue, then purple. Your tiredness subdues into drowsy awe. You sit up and Jungkook does too, positioning you on his lap. "I think this is the second show. Timing is fitting don't you think?"

You giggle, and Jungkook sees daylight in your eyes. "Too fitting. I'm starting to think that this was all part of some big plan."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "Silly girl, of course it is." You look at him quizzically. "We're soulmates aren't we? The universe is just celebrating us."

You smile, sighing as you lean into his chest. "Whatever you say, my soulmate." Jungkook's eyes widen. He felt twelve again, dumbstruck euphoria overwhelming his love for you any time you called him yours. His shock settles into a soft smile, holding you in his arms while you watch the fireworks. It takes him awhile to realize your eyes are closed though.

"Sleepy, love? Thought you loved the fireworks."

"I do," you giggle, pushing him down onto the soft mattress. You snuggle into his chest. "Just listening to your heartbeat."

Jungkook blushes. He was going to urge you to clean up, but with you looking so cozy on top of him, he knew you'd much rather rest. He sighs lovingly, stroking your hair. He hasn't felt this happy in awhile. "About your payment, I’ll wire $800 just for tomorrow, but we’ll officially talk about the—"

“Shhhh!” You grumble, burying your head further into him. “Don’t wanna talk about money right now, just let me be with you.”

Jungkook blinks, and you look up to him with a pout. Purple lights up the seoul's night sky, casting an soft glow on Jungkook’s face. He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheeks.

"Needy girl.”

a/n : wooooo this took the longest time to write. its pretty bulky so whoevers got to this point i love you sosososo and i hope you enjoyed my work ! feedback is welcome and super appreciated, reading comments really do make my day <3 i was thinking of making a sequel/continuation for this but im not so sure ,, we'll see. anyways, i hope you have a lovely day my loves ! stay hydrated and healthy, i hope you eat good food today. make sure to take care of yourself too !

#jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts jk #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook scenarios #jungkook friends to lovers #kim taehyung

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doctorstephenvincentstrange · 3 years

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What If S1E4 Meta: The True “Heart”

The same way Stephen couldn’t let go of Christine in the fourth installment of What If...?, I haven’t been able to shake this episode off and out of my head since watching it. I’m pretty sure it’s put me through the grieving process. Lately, it’s been haunting me like a ghost, and while mentally revisiting it for the fourteen millionth time, I realized something BRUTAL that I just had to share ASAP!

Hear me out, homies. What if...

The running theme and title of the episode was Stephen Strange losing his “heart.” But although the setup and storyline seems to suggest the euphemism refers to Christine Palmer, it doesn’t! The “heart” of Stephen Strange is not the girl of his dreams he lost in that car accident, but the greater man he had gained.

OK LISTEN. Let me have a shot to show you what I see (even in shite quality, pardon my crappy screenshots). Let’s start with the DS1 recap, 'cuz I’m still not over the first movie, either, and it’s relevant.

Like the watcher explained, after the devastating and tragic death of the love of his life, Stephen Strange began to look for answers. Not different from Stephen Strange of the sacred timeline, he was obsessed with reversing the great loss and trauma he’d endured. It was with the same perfectionism that made him a great surgeon, that Stephen sought the power to “find his own way back.”

... By any means necessary.

They both discover that “power” they were searching for when they stumble upon time magic. However, Stephen is lectured that time magic is something that could risk the stability of the universe, and should never be done lightly and certainly never for the sake of one person over all others. Although harm is not his nature and Stephen doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he struggles to give up on his quest to heal his hands, or alternatively, to resurrect Christine. He was told a solution wasn’t out there, but found it in the Book of Cagliostro.

Despite every person that told him it couldn’t be done, Stephen can’t accept that. He won’t admit there’s nothing that can be done, there has to be something he can do. He’s conceited with the delusion he can alter his past to better his present. And he won’t be swayed of it.

But when the Ancient One fell, Stephen Strange rose to take her place and fend against the invading Dormammu. He saw for the first time the world that was so much bigger than him, that he could do so much good for, more than good only for himself. He saw the millions of lives that had not yet been lost to tragedy he could prevent and save from it, even if not what hardships had already been done and could not be undone in his own life. Things he could save, not fix.

And it wasn’t his own life he saved with that time magic in the end, but earth itself. And Stephen Strange became something much bigger than himself. No matter what he’d lost in that car accident, he learned there was still much more he could gain, regardless of what he’d lost. He didn’t need to fix his hands. They were still good.

Better than his brilliant mind, was his beautiful heart.

His capacity for goodness, not greatness.

And yet, for all the good he’d achieved and learned, on the two year anniversary of Christine’s death, Stephen can’t help but get sucked into his past, and in a moment of weakness, allow his grief power over him once more. He can’t stop reliving the past. He loops it over and over again, trying to reverse fate, trying to find a way to spare Christine and find that “miracle” that must exist to spare her.

The Ancient One has sensed his presence and meddling with the Eye of Agamotto, and warns Stephen that the path he had set himself on would lead him only to more pain. When Stephen refuses to be reasoned with, the Ancient One brandishes him with a single blow before he escapes into the past. He thinks she missed. She didn’t.

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TO BLAME! DARLING YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME!

But *ahem* seriously, notice how Stephen was struck mid center his chest, directly over his heart. It was in that moment that Stephen Strange lost his “heart,” as the Ancient One had knocked it out of him, just as she had knocked him out of his own oversized head when they first met. Theory: she cast a spell to separate Stephen’s heart from his mind, the two halves that make one complete man.

Because even if Stephen Strange’s mind was still set on Christine Palmer, his heart had been changed, and there was still hope for it. And Stephen Strange’s heart had enough with “living in the past for one day,” and chose instead to share drinks with Wong.

Meanwhile, Stephen’s “mind” searched the Library of Cagliostro for a way to reverse an absolute point and save Christine. Eventually, he found the answer he was looking for. He needed more power, that could be obtained by otherworldly creatures. Now, harm is not in Stephen’s nature. On his first attempt, he actually tries asking “nicely,” and ends up getting ass kicked.

O’Bengh, the librarian of the books of Cagliostro, patches up his body and tries to warn Stephen. He may have lost his heart, but if he he keeps going at this rate, he was well on his way to losing his mind.

But Stephen didn’t heed those words of warning. He distorted his body, darkened himself with every sacrifice he made for Christine’s sake. So caught up in the memory of Christine’s greatness, Stephen had forgotten he’d once had one of his own. Christine was all he saw.

So obsessed with her, he lost himself.

When Strange returns to O’Bengh’s side, the librarian has aged and is dying. He reveals the passage of centuries Stephen has spent devoted to this madness. As someone Stephen thinks of as a friend passes away, Stephen can’t think to cherish these last moments or listen carefully to his final words. All he can think is to use his magic to spare O’Bengh, which O’Bengh refuses, trying one last time to reach through to Stephen before giving up and leaving hope to the “heart” to be strong enough to withstand and stop him.

*Wink, wink, wink.* Do you see it now?

Now, onto the confrontation between heart and mind. Stephen’s mind can’t achieve anything if his heart isn’t in it, and I love the symbolism of that. He must get it on board first, unite on both fronts.

Stephen’s heart can recognize that this isn’t love, but the work of his broken mind lost in a delusion. And Stephen’s so far gone down the rabbit hole, he won’t even listen to his heart. Instead he ignores it, even burns the cloak of levitation... the very symbol of his finding something new that could uplift him after spending so long down on his knees in the past... and he burnt it to ash. When his heart won’t be persuaded, he resorts to trickery, attempting to con his heart with the same delusion that haunts his mind. It’s the same Christine that Stephen first was hung up imagining when he picked up the eye of the Agamotto and got himself into this mess, his trump card.

But again, the heart cannot be deceived. It knows Christine is dead, and it realizes the fantasy his mind is pursuing is not the same as the Christine they once knew and loved. More importantly, his heart remembers that there are other people who need him now, people that are not beyond saving. And the mind is done playing.

If his heart won’t come willing, then he’ll just have to beat it into submission until it can’t make a single sound of protest, and then swallow it whole. Stephen makes the ultimate sacrifice the Ancient One had tried so hard to prevent, and abandons that heart she saw so much potential in and inspired her to teach him.

This episode AMAZINGLY tackles the narcissism and arrogance that hides in specific shades of grief and depression. In believing our problems are greater than anyone else’s, that no one else could understand as Stephen insisted “they didn’t know her!” The selfishness that comes with refusing to see the world or those around you that still need you and choosing instead to chase the memory of the ones you’ve already lost, who are beyond saving. If we choose those delusions over our reality, in the end, we will lose everything, and the ones who will pay the price for your arrogance won’t be you, but the ones you loved. Even the memory of the one you loved, that you twisted to fit your mold. There’s a selfishness in seeing only the bad of what was rather than the good of what could come.

Unless you want to end up alone inside a cold and empty shell, maybe it’s time to listen to your heart, and move on.

#Doctor Strange #Doctor Stephen Strange #Stephen Strange #What If #Marvel #Marvel Meta

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lovebecomeshim · 3 years

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hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

youtube

#zutara #atla #zutara rant #like really the way the canon relationships were written throughout s3 #it would’ve been more believable for zutara to happen #or at least be hinted at #all of the major issues presented in those relationship were dug up extensively and then... never resolved #and then they just slapped some kisses on a screen and said ‘there all better’#and we just kinda had to say ‘oh ok guess it’s all better then’#this got long I’m sorry #I wrote it all out and then tumblr ate 2/3 of it #which is why it took so long #and what I’ve written now doesn’t even match what I had before #because there’s too much to say about why I love zutara #and the stuff I left out the first time is what came out this time #rip to my original thoughts but this post is different #anyway that’s why this took so long #and I should’ve just made a PowerPoint...#I can do that too if you’d rather not read all of this lol #I won’t be offended #this is incoherent #Alia rambles uselessly #also hoping this doesn’t end up in any wrong tags because I don’t wanna step on toes lol #it’s not anti!! it’s just critical #in a compare/contrast way #I can pinpoint the moment when I started trying to rewrite my points from memory #because everything gets shorter and more succinct #like... I really said all that??? sounds fake and I don’t remember it anyway so here’s the condensed version #with no!! smooth!!! transitions!!!!#also why am I so lazy with proper grammar over text

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 28 - This Ain't No Hymn

Masterlist; Chapter 27

Summary: Time is running until Stalsk-12 and whatever awaits you there. You and Neil try to make the best out of what you have left.

Warnings: 18+ (implied and not so implied content); teasing; swearing.

Author's Notes: Gosh that was a long month... and I'm sorry it took ages. But it's here...! And it's over 14k for which I am terribly sorry. This one is my final stall before we kick off the action and I do hope you'll enjoy the absolute crackheadery of whatever goes on. Feedback greatly appreciated, as always!

During the final two days leading up to the battle, you did wonder how life can be at once so wonderful and yet terrifying. It was easy to get used to the new reality, letting Neil stay in your cabin for most of the time and only use his own for those brief periods when he would need a change of clothes. Or when you would be busy dealing with the assigned tasks, and he would get bored (as he proclaimed). Still, there was barely a time when you were not together.

Mornings were undeniably something else. As the remains of Morpheus’ spell wore off, you snuggled the duvet closer to your chest, relishing in the warmth provided by the blanket and the man sleeping beside you. One last heavy sigh before you opened your eyes, squinting in the bright light falling through the porthole. The sun rays aiming directly at your face, causing you to turn onto the side and face Neil. Despite the numerous mornings spent like this, the sight of him never got old. Your eyes slowly swept over his features. The relaxed brow, blonde hair falling over the forehead in complete disarray. Lips slightly parted, letting out quiet snores. You grinned, overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Because this was worth all the heartache and drama. Absolutely priceless.

Scooting a little bit closer, you felt his hand instinctively tighten over your waist. The hold, which has been placed the previous evening, not shifting throughout the whole night. Keeping you secured and warm. Just as if you were always supposed to end up like this. And perhaps you were. Gently, you reached out to brush your fingertips over his temple. Tentative touch making his breath even out, waking him in the process. Using the momentum, you swept the hair away from his eyes, ending the caress by running the pad of your thumb over his nose and mouth. If only because he was within your grasp.

Neil opened his eyes then, blinking twice to get used to the brightness. You watched as he took in the surroundings, consciousness needing few seconds longer to catch up. Once his eyes landed on you, his lips curled into a soft smile. Gaze immediately showing you nothing but affection. You mirrored his expression, letting yourself extend the staring. It was easy to waste the morning just doing that, gazing into each other’s eyes, getting used to the unbelievable luck. The comfortable silence stretched for a few minutes when Neil grinned and pulled you closer, hiding his head in the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent with reverence. The happy giggle rose in your throat, tinting the words with breathlessness:

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” the nickname coming out of nowhere, yet fitting too well.

You could feel Neil’s smile widen. Cradling you close, he kissed your collarbone and slipped his hands underneath the shirt to caress the skin. It was always like this, slow and blissful, with every minute spent cuddling reminding you why loving him was something essential.

“I should be annoyed at you for waking me up,” the pretended sulking accentuated with a huff let out by Neil.

Still, his hold over your waist tightened. Another kiss laid on the collarbone, teeth lightly grazing over your skin. At this point, hickeys were just another thing that had to be accepted. With the military fashion aboard the icebreaker depending largely on pullovers and combat trousers, you did not need much to hide them. Now, feeling the sleepiness gradually make way for other emotions, you wound your arms around his middle, tangling more to prolong the contentment.

“What’s the but there?” dropping the cheeky question, you made sure to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Taking a moment to drag your fingers through his hair, arranging the eternal mess someway, a job you took on most days now. It was only a pleasure, making sure he looked presentable and yet still like his chaotic self.

“But… this way I can spend few more minutes like this” another blissful sigh, “And this is rather nice,” the adjective complemented with a final trail of kisses down your neck.

Using the loose cut of the t-shirt, Neil ended the study with a longer caress on your bare shoulder. Earning a gasp from you. And then, to sober up, you remarked:

“I love it when you become this incomprehensible in the mornings,” another tactical distraction in the form of tracing your fingertips down his forearm.

His cluelessness first thing after waking up was endearing. Despite always being rather dependent on touch and closeness, it was in those hours when he tended to seek comfort. As opposed to your evening need of hugs and cuddles, helping your anxious brain settle in for the night. It worked. Very much so.

“Very funny” Neil raised his head, joining you on the pillow, “You’re quite gorgeous, did you know that?” eyes showing you the unimaginable extent of infatuation.

You grinned, the charm never failing to get to you. In moments like this, it was easy to believe him. To accept the fact that he was in love with you. Exactly as you are.

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice. I’m not convinced though” sensing the potential in this line of conversation, you made sure to put up the act.

It worked if judging by the way his eyes lit up with the familiar glimmer. As if that was the needed push for him. The wake-up call.

“I’ll convince you then,” a predatory smirk reminding you of the defeat.

There was no point in fighting him. With excitement fluttering in the pit of your stomach, you watched as he shifted to hover over you. Hands settling comfortably on your waist. One last wink before he leaned down, crashing his mouth into yours with hunger. Your hands ventured up his arms to enlace on the nape of his neck, offering leverage. To pull him down as you deepened the kiss. Easily letting his tongue brush against yours in the intimate moves. Every glide of his lips against yours resulting in flickering fire, electrical sparks trailing down your veins. Muffled sighs and gasps breaking the silence. It was never something effortlessly brushed off. Each kiss sharpening the need and affirming the convictions. Unforgettable.

You broke off the contact only once it felt like you both would suffocate if letting it continue. With a permanent grin, you watched as Neil flopped back on the pillow and took a greedy breath, hand taking yours instinctively and lacing up the fingers to extend the touch. After a few seconds of the recovery period, you decided to pick up on the playful strand once more. For good measure. Raising on the elbow, you glanced down at him with a cheeky smile:

“Do you always kiss that good?” you slowly dragged your tongue along your lips, saving up the remains of the taste.

With satisfaction, you observed as his eyes darted to your mouth, pupils darkening as though that was enough to entice him. The attraction never failing to surprise you in its intensity. Fate and related synonyms constantly on your mind. Because what else could it be?

“You tell me” following your mood, Neil smirked, never easily thrown off by the banter.

Shots fired and all that. Naturally. You broke into a laugh, half-collapsing against him. Only the arms wrapping around your waist keeping you secured. There was nothing left to do but let the giggles die down, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“My god…” words choked out with immeasurable happiness, “If it’s going to be a lifetime of talk like that, then I’m not sure I’ll survive it” admitting the eternal truth, you peeked up at him to see the reaction.

A widening grin and a hint of insecurity brewing underneath were a fascinating mix.

“Maybe you’ll get tired of me and my bullshit. And dump me for someone with the charisma of a cardboard box,”

It was the way he was so utterly wrong that made you let out a quiet laugh then. And also, the concern over his self-doubts that would need to be dealt with immediately. As the true bullshit must be treated.

“So… like Jasper?” the joke earning you a genuine burst of laughter from Neil and a tightening hold over your body “Wouldn’t count on it,” raising once again, you kissed him lightly on the lips and the tip of the nose.

As a reminder.

“Good. Because something tells me I’m a lost cause,” the sincere look causing another wave of love for him, “There’s no getting over someone like you, Miss” in response, Neil bopped your nose with his playfully.

There it is again. With curiosity peaked, you ignored the need to get lost in another kiss and chose to ask a question:

“What’s with the new nickname?” your interest betrayed only by the restless fingers trailing down his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in the shirt.

Not that you did mind. It was rather cute. And strange.

“I’m trying it out... to see how I feel about it” as usual, Neil caught your meaning with a pensive look.

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, staring at you unseeingly. Beauty like this first thing in the morning should be made illegal. Your heart once again building up the fire that could only be extinguished by letting yourself have what you wanted. And that was rather simple.

“And?” trying to distract the intensifying thoughts, you took hold of his hand once again.

Carefully relaxing the fist, fingertips inspecting the web of veins and scars covering his palm. The long, slender fingers never failing to amaze you. A sudden reminder about the piano in his flat making everything worse. Because that would be quite a sight.

“I like it. Once we get married, I’ll amp up the game anyways,” Neil’s oblivious ramblings disrupting a detailed daydream concerning him and the piano keys.

Thankfully. It was only once you have brought yourself back to the present moment, the exact meaning of his words caught up.

“Once… not if?” that flicker of hope burning bright and steady.

It was in the way Neil studied you closely that you knew he understood. The smirk spread across his lips; eyes glimmered dangerously as he cupped your cheek:

“Why you got any other plans?” a suggestive glance at your mouth yet again.

No reason to deny it. You glanced at the phone to confirm your hopes. It was early. Enough so to spend a little bit longer in bed. Perfect.

“For now, yes,” meeting his gaze with a half-smile of your own.

Quickly untangling from the current position to provide yourself with more options. Not that he would mind how you would go about it. He never did.

“Care to share?” the want written clearly on his face, nothing but an invitation.

No verbal response needed as you straddled his lap and kissed him eagerly. Your hands followed, inching up his shirt and giving more places to study. The look full of curiosity and excitement in the blue eyes only providing more reasons to continue. More kisses. Hands exploring the familiar territory, waking up the desire, and raising the temperature. A quick fix for the addiction. Breathless moans and groans, breaking the silence of the morning hours. Gathering the courage to do what you wanted never felt this sweet.

***

Whenever Neil was busy with assigned work or training, you would wander the ship looking for something to do. A way to pass the time without triggering worrying thoughts or staring at the plans for the hundredth time. Two days were still left. And the objective was to survive them as peacefully as possible given the circumstances. You were owed as much.

That morning your feet carried you to the bridge. The quiet space offering a perfect place to settle down with the coffee and a blanket on your lap. With the panoramic windows giving an excellent view of the horizon, you could comfortably stare at the endless sky and sea. That close to the Siberian shores the only land visible were the occasional Russian islands, partially covered with snow or laid with grassy steppes. Otherwise, the emptiness could be easily overwhelming. Silence deafening. No soul nearby not belonging to your party of agents and soldiers willing to save the world from the bomb that could still go off. (Or did it already?) It was thoughts like those that caused most drama. Tiny brain worms rooting deep inside to come out at night and bother you with difficult questions and uncertainties. An ideal spark for anxiety.

Too lost in your head, you never heard the airlock open.

“Morning” you looked up, startled to see Kat take off the oxygen mask.

“Hi,” you grinned, suddenly relieved to have company.

She hesitated, eyeing your set up on the sofa and then the scene outside of the window.

“May I join?” upon your nod, she smiled and joined you on the settee, noticing wistfully, “The view from my porthole isn’t half this good”

You observed as she took in the scenery, large blue eyes full of wonder.

“This is quite something else…” you added, gaze coming back to the picturesque view.

The comfortable silence stretching out for a few minutes, when sudden thought prompted you to speak up:

“I never came to thank you for helping me back then-” the incoming apology stopped with a hand resting on your knee.

“Don’t mention it,” the reassuring smile shutting up the worries, “It was the least I could do” another pat on your knee before her grin turned wicked, “Where’s Neil?”

Caught. If it was not due to your accurate portrayal of the deer stuck in headlights, it was probably the blush that confirmed her thesis. There was no reason to pretend.

“He’s got shooting practice,” feigning nonchalance, you wondered aloud, “How do you…?” the question not needing finalization.

The look on Kat’s face nothing short of welcoming.

“I saw you on the deck during the Northern Lights,” the explanation tinting your cheeks darker “You were stood close, away from everyone else. And then you looked at him and kept on staring as though he was more beautiful than the Aurora to you” right…your breath hitched, the realization hitting with a needed kick, “I noticed you leave right after, hands holding tightly…” she trailed off, the knowing smile gracing her lips.

More beautiful than the aurora… yes, definitely. Finding words again, you chose to be honest. She saw you at your worst, offered a shoulder to lean on and a spark to light the flickering hope. To say that you were grateful was an understatement.

“We’ve managed to talk it out. Turns out he was just an idiot trying to save me while willing to ignore his feelings” thoughtlessly, a smile appeared on your face; joy uncontainable “You were right, he loves me,”

It still felt strange to say it. Even though it was true. The last time Neil told you as much was less than an hour ago. A parting affirmation as he was putting on the pullover and leaving your cabin. The new normal.

“As he should,” Kat grinned, optimism in her eyes exhilarating, “You both deserve happiness” you mirrored her smile, taking a sip from the abandoned coffee cup in a bliss-like daze, “From what I’ve seen the last few days… you’re giving him everything he was missing” the addition making your grin wider, the dangerous hope unstoppable.

Both of you went silent then, pondering on the view and what could be said. Silence comfortably stretching out and giving you a sense of companionship that you missed. While sharing thoughts and feelings with Neil was like second nature, sometimes you wished for somebody else to talk to. It was that necessity of being candid that prompted the confession:

“I like to believe that maybe now things will turn out alright somehow… but it’s difficult to keep it up with whatever awaits us at Stalsk,” the reminder settling with the anxiety cast all over your mind and heart.

The sombre turn of the conversation seemingly alright with Kat, for she eyed you closely before speaking up:

“Neil told me you’re going with him on the special unit” it was an observation.

But one that needed confirmation. The possibility to discuss it with her suddenly sounding like something you desperately wanted but never dared dream of.

“Yeah, I have to” a nod if only to reassure yourself, “Maybe it’s crazy, but I’ve got a feeling that I should be there. That it’s where I’m supposed to end up” words ringing out in the quiet space with defiance “And do whatever will be necessary to help him get out unscathed” the unsaid hanging over you, bestowing imperceptible shadow.

Kat looked at you thoughtfully; the quiet observation weighed with thousands of things that could be said. Finally, she ended the scrutiny and turned back to the horizon, breaking the silence with a comment:

“After everything I’ve seen, that’s far from crazy,” low chuckle permeating the space with a sense of faked lightness, “I’m more concerned about that part with whatever will be necessary…” the emphasis making your cheeks turn a darker shade.

Of course. She would understand what you meant. It is the only way. The belief in that one statement giving enough courage to defend your position:

“I know how it sounds. And perhaps its emotions talking… but he must survive” hiding the rising wave of emotions, you finished the lukewarm coffee, stubbornly staring at the edge of the navy sea covered with waves.

Anything but to face the attentive gaze. In the fear of losing the conviction. There was no time to falter now. Whatever would happen, you had to proceed with the plan. If not for yourself, then for Neil.

“Even if that means your sacrifice?” the question asked with a neutral tone.

The meaning simple. Taken by surprise, you looked up to meet the blue eyes staring at you inquisitively. There was no point in lying. It was another thing that you pondered on often. The question of what if. What if it comes to it and you’ll have to choose between your life and Neil’s? The answer was undeniable. Even if unspeakable.

“Yes,” a nod to assert it with all your might, “And I know he sees things the same… he told me that it’s why he’s doing it. To make sure the world won’t end taking me with it” you added, as though to validate your statement.

To show her that it was not only you who was that crazy. That perhaps what you have is something extraordinary. Worth more than anyone else can understand. Judging by the glimmer in Kat’s eyes, she knew what you were trying to say.

“I’ve only encountered love like that in fiction,” a hint of a melancholic smile on her face tugging at your heart with force.

Desperately searching for something else to say, you remembered everything Neil told you about her. Of why you were very much alike even if it did not seem so at first sight.

“You’re willing to go to similar lengths for your son. Max, right?” uncertain about the name, you hesitated.

She nodded, her expression turned serious, eyes showing the steely resilience you have seen before. A strong woman willing to do anything to save her son.

“Yes, I think… I’m not sure what’s going to happen on that bloody yacht but…” you watched as she searched for the right words, hands clenched tightly in her lap, “I’ll do what must be done to make sure Andrei doesn’t win this one” her tone turning cold, determination resounding through every syllable “He’s done enough harm,”

It was the flash of resignation passing through her gaze that caused another heartbreak. Suddenly you wished for nothing but a reckoning. Vengeance against this horrible man and the tortures he has inflicted upon Kat.

“I’m sorry,” words rolling off your tongue for the lack of anything better.

Instantly, you cursed your awkwardness, ready to come up with something different, when a hand placed on your forearm stopped the panicked stream of thoughts.

“Don’t be,” she squeezed your palm quickly before saying, “I hate it when people look at me with pity. The poor woman who married a monster. I want to be seen as a victor, not a victim,” the confession carrying with it a rising sense of strength.

Because she certainly was a victor. Someone to admire for the resistance and unyielding force of will. To be good and to put her son’s life before hers. That was something to aspire to. A quote from a few years back resonated through your head as you commented:

“Nevertheless, she persisted,” the mysterious smile spreading on your lips upon seeing Kat’s surprise.

And then she beamed. Gratefulness better than anything else you could ask for.

“Yes, exactly,” a nod, hope shining bright in her eyes, “Maybe this is my chance,”

Using the quiet moment, she stood up and wandered over to the panoramic window. The sun has begun to shine through the low clouds, adding a little more charm to the view. A tiny bit of optimism. Because maybe… With her back turned to you and the increasing sense of courage, you spoke up:

“You’ve already won. You’ve survived a wound like that… and you’re here, free from him. That for me is being victorious” finishing the sentence, you wavered.

When Kat turned back to face you with a smile full of gratitude and eyes shining with happy tears, you knew it was worth it.

***

The early afternoon before the very last night proceeding the battle was difficult. Left to your own devices, you have been idly sitting in the cabin, pondering on the various ways to stop the anxious thoughts. Even for a minute. But all the ways you could come up with either involved seeking out Neil, who has been hired to give the soldiers a quick physics-related pep talk, brushing up on their inverted combat skills and how to survive on the battlefield when the forces of gravity work against you. The other coping method you came up with had to do with spending hours in the shooting ground again. And there were hardly any bullets left for training, with stocks reserved strictly for operational use. Limits set by yourself as per order. Not omittable.

That is how you have found yourself setting up the hastily packed speaker (because why not?) in the small sparring ground in the training zone. You have changed into comfortable sweatpants and a tank top, deciding to use up the excess of energy in chilled solo sparring of sorts. It mostly consisted of finding proper bops and prancing around the space, trying out different kicks and punches Ives taught you. It was easy to get lost, feeling the rhythm, setting the pace, and choosing the right kind of moves to deal with the invisible opponents. A backfist here, roundhouse kick there. An attempt at a flying kick just because the guitar solo got you a little bit too entranced. That one ended with a groan, face flat on the mat. Thankfully there was no one to see.

You got lost in the movement, music drowning out everything else, until it was just you, your body in the fluid movements and the breaths punctuating the silence. Aiming a perfect backhander, you turned around only to freeze when your eyes landed on the intruder leaning on the plastic screen separating the spaces. Impeccable grin and a shrug answering your wide gaze. Blue eyes appreciatively sweeping across your body. Nothing new there for him. You stared back, heavy breaths catching up after minutes of intense practice. After what seemed like an eternity, Neil’s smile widened as he pushed himself up and crossed the distance.

Hands landing on your waist, without a second wasted, he pulled you closer, forcefully enough to draw out a startled yelp. That was rather unexpected. You barely had time to comprehend anything when he kissed you with hunger. On reflex, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck as you opened your mouth to let him in. Teeth clanked when Neil reached out for more than you could offer, breath caught in your throat, unprepared for something like this. The need resonating through your tangled bodies as you let the stream of feelings take you under. Temperance forgotten as Neil tugged on your lower lip, bruising the skin and softening the damage with his tongue. You moaned, the sound getting lost in the haze of sudden frenzy. As though you were bound to die tomorrow, and this was the last chance to show each other the love you feel.

It was that thought that prompted you to break away. In search of oxygen mostly.

“Wow…” you gazed up at him, feigning nonchalance, “Thought we agreed on no PDA in the public spaces,” the stern glare breaking underneath the lovesick smile you could not hold back.

Because, after a kiss like that, how could you?

Neil shrugged, keeping his hands firmly on your waist, thumb gently stroking your side through the shirt. There was no remorse in those eyes, only fondness, and mischief. Whatever brought him here was bound to end in trouble. Perhaps that was the distraction you were seeking…

“It’s not my fault you’re stood here looking like this” another admiring look over your figure, finishing with a quirked smile and a pull to bring you closer once again.

It was difficult to deny him anything.

“Like what?” arching an eyebrow you searched his eyes for clues.

Up close, you could fully marvel at his long eyelashes and the exact colour of his eyes. The darker rim encircling the blue-grey depths, pulling you in and making you fall even harder. You always should have known that it was inevitable. There was no escape from eyes like those.

“Irresistible,” the word, falling from his lips in a pious whisper.

Inches left between your faces, gravity doing its work in bringing your nearer. Nothing left to do but breach the gap and kiss him, another way of thanking him for the compliment and getting the fix for the addiction. Now there was no need to hold back, after all.

“Huh…” you grinned, catching your breath once more, “How did you find me?” taking a step back to stop the temptation.

Because perhaps that was enough. The rest could continue in the privacy of your room. Whatever that might be.

“Intuition, mostly” Neil swept his gaze around the room, focusing on the speaker laying in the corner “And a little bit of luck since only you could be listening to ‘Big in Japan’ while training” his eyes narrowed, cheeky smirk dangling in the corner of his mouth.

Ah. The song choice coming back with a vengeance as you blushed for no reason.

“What’s wrong with Alphaville? That’s a banger,” the defence coming with an unnecessary but satisfying push aimed at the center of his chest.

Working perfectly, if the surprised gasp was anything to go by. He only needed a second to recover, the sparks in his eyes telling you that the response was bound to be quite something, and you better prepare.

“I’m not saying it’s not. Only that this is very much in character for the woman I’m honoured to call my girlfriend” a wink perfecting the delivery.

Yep, on point. Your face warmed up a notch, happiness almost incomprehensible.

“Ain’t you smug” masking the softness with sarcasm, you attempted a harsh glare.

However, all the intent crumbled the moment your speaker started playing the next song via shuffle. The soft piano, opening the ballad with a flourish. Nothing but corniness of the 90s and a love song to defy any other. As Bryan Adams started singing out the first lines in his husky tone, you groaned. Fuck you, Spotify.

“I didn’t take you to be this sentimental” Neil eyed you closely, mirth betrayed by the barely contained laughter.

Using the weapon you have been hoarding for too long, you aimed to school your features before noticing:

“Well… wise man once told me that we’ve all got our weaknesses…” the meaningful gaze doing the job as Neil grinned.

“Very wise, indeed,” the self-satisfied expression only deepening.

Before you could perceive his movements, he closed the distance, took your hand in his, and placed the other palm on your shoulder blade. Following instincts you did not even know you had, you hastily put your hand on his bicep in the ballroom dance position you have seen on tv. What the hell.

“What are you doing?” question coming out breathless as you stumbled to fall into the correct steps following his lead.

Lead to a slow waltz, of all things.

“Using the opportunity,” Neil adjusted the pace, letting you feel the rhythm before continuing, “Haven’t you ever dreamt of waltzing with the love of your life in a glitzy ballroom?”

It was the nonchalance that caught you. The way he said it without a stutter. As though he has used the words before, perhaps in the quiet of his mind or in a conversation.

“Maybe I have,” forcing the doubts to shut up you chose the noncommittal answer for the moment.

Letting your eyes speak instead as you met his steady gaze. A flash of a gentle smile and a thumb tenderly stroking your shoulder blade. Calming down and grounding within the moment.

“I know I did,” the affirmation added to the mix, complete with the kiss on your forehead.

'Look into your heart – you will find

There's nothin' there to hide

Take me as I am, take my life

I would give it all, I would sacrifice'

Bryan Adams kept on crooning as you moved slowly across the room. The relatable meaning of the words sung out making you hide your head in the crook of Neil’s neck, disrupting the formality of your position. Turning the waltz into a slow dance by making Neil pull you closer. He tightened his hold, fingers carefully stroking your skin, the contact keeping up the spark alive. A few more slides across space, your feet following his without hesitation. The synchronization perfect in the matched tempo. It was surprisingly easy to find the right rhythm; perhaps the chemistry did its work in that aspect too.

It was only once the song has reached the guitar solo part that you have managed to break the comfortable silence with a comment:

“This is… nice,” the adjective being the only one you could come up with.

All the other words disappearing one by one, dissolved in the wave of feelings. Happiness, most of all. And love you never imagined existing, let alone to experience. Neil chuckled lowly, his chin resting comfortably on the top of your head.

“Mhmm… Remember how we’ve first met?” the question catching you off guard.

Enough to miss one step and earn a little ‘tsk’ from him.

“Of course, why?” the audacity of the assumption frustrating.

As if. Because even now, you sometimes found yourself reminiscing on that day. The conversation, seemingly innocent, and yet have led you to this point. To everything you did not even know you were missing but now could not live without.

“Even then… when we were chatting over the coffee, I was intrigued,” the wistfulness in Neil’s voice causing long-forgotten questions to resurface.

You have never discussed that day in detail. But maybe that would be the chance. Gathering up the courage, you waited until you have completed the spin around the room to admit:

“Me too… I’ve always wondered… what was it when you’ve eyed me and said I’ll pass the training without issues? Just flirting?” curiosity creeping into your voice.

Not going unnoticed and acknowledged with a thoughtful hum. That was another thing you have thought of. Back then, his gaze only increased the interest. Now, knowing it was not only you that had many impressions after the meeting, it was harder to ignore.

“That was one of the few times when I broke my own rules of looking at people objectively” the explanation given with the needed depth “I always try to be respectable… to see everyone for their minds rather than their bodies” unasked, your heart let out a painful thump in awe over him “But with you, I- I guess my fascination got ahead of me” sudden shyness surprising, causing you to disrupt the dance by freezing in the spot “I was right, in the end” Neil met your questioning gaze with an apologetic expression.

That alone vouching for a kiss and a reassuring squeeze of a hand. You gladly accepted an invitation back into his embrace and another slow dance. Spotify proving itself useful with the next song choice – ‘Forever Young’. By Alphaville, again.

Neil’s snicker was met with a glare on your side and a light step on his foot, for good measure. It took you another few seconds to let the doubts speak up again:

“Was that really enough for you to see me? That one afternoon?” once the questions started, there was no end to them in your mind.

“Yes,” no hesitation on his side “Trust me, I was surprised too, but with every passing day I was thinking about you more. And now I know why” a nuzzle to the top of your head before he asked, “What about you?” inquisitiveness almost hidden by the neutral tone.

Might as well show your hand. Laying a small kiss on the side of his neck, you began:

“I’m not sure… I was curious about you” an understatement but always something, “You seemed so different and charming, like no one I’ve ever met before. And obviously, I had to acknowledge that you’re handsome as hell but… then I saw you flirt with Anna, and I thought that you’re one of those” the admission coming out with the resigned edge you did not fully intend.

It was quickly extinguished with a spectacular dip and a pirouette that managed to knock the breath out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your brain. Nothing but Neil left. As usual.

“I see… mind you, I was flirting with her only because I didn’t know how to talk to you yet” he carried on the conversation without a hitch.

Interesting.

“Did it matter?” you raised your head to be able to see his face for this one.

As though he was expecting scrutiny, Neil met your gaze with a steady look and a confident smile.

“Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” the intensity of the eye contact increasing.

The song starting to fade out amidst its 80s glory, the last of the synthesizer giving out its swan song with the needed cringe. Your dance slowing down to a small two-step, prolonging the moment a little longer.

“Which would be?” another question, because why the hell not.

Using your momentum, Neil slipped his fingers underneath the strap of your tank top, grin widening once he realised the lack of bra. The familiar sparks, making you wonder about wherever this was bound to lead you. About what could happen. A vague idea formed in your head, needing only closure to the chat.

“That I’m not serious,” Neil’s response bringing you back to the moment.

All the movement stopping, leaving you standing in an embrace in the middle of the space.

“Are you?” just a final test.

Even though you did not need an answer, everything that happened within the last days proving time and time again that he was in it hundred percent. That finally you have found the one.

“Very much so, my love” stepping out of the hold, Neil tipped your chin.

The depth of adoration in his gaze only bringing out fierce blush and the deepening softness threatening to make you melt on the spot from too many feelings and too much happiness coursing through your veins. Enough. For now.

You grinned at Neil as a means of accepting his answer and took a definitive step away from him, noticing the curious look on his face. Ignoring it for the moment, you quickly searched through the library to pick up something a little more appropriate. And less cringe. As you pressed play on the right playlist and faced Neil again, the smile you saw told you he had ideas towards your next suggestion:

“Do you want to join me for a little sparring?” you approached him slowly, the unexpected nerves making an appearance, “We’ve never done that together, and maybe… you can say no of course but-” as you faltered, the plan seemed to make less and less sense every passing second.

Because perhaps there was a reason why he never suggested it. Or perhaps, it was not something he would want to do with you, his girlfriend, of all people. Maybe-

“I’d love to,” the answering smile reassuring enough to let you know that all your issues have been noticed, “Don’t pull your punches just because it’s me” Neil closed the gap and took your hand in his with a wink.

There was no way of stopping that grin from appearing on your face. Tightening the hold over his hand, you made sure to put on the most intimidating expression in your arsenal.

“You wish, sunshine,” a kiss on the cheek just because, followed by a wink to tip off his mirroring smile.

Let the games begin or something. You watched as Neil took off the pullover, leaving him in the t-shirt, and joined you on the mat. The final thought was that this sort of activity could end in many ways. Some of them rather intriguing. However, all distractions had to be left behind if you were to win this one. Which was easier said than done, as you eyed your opponent, coming up with the strategy. Because of those damned blue eyes and fascinating body proportions that were hard to ignore, no matter the circumstances.

With the final nod, it began. You crossed the space to aim a kick at Neil’s shin, using the element of surprise and height difference. As you hit the mark, he let out a surprised yelp and glared at you offendedly. A giggle escaped your throat as you made sure to put up the guard, expecting retaliation to follow. And it did. A lighter kick in your ankle, and then an attempt at punch towards your shoulder. That one, thankfully blocked, with your rendition of the shooting daggers.

The sparring followed this rhythm for a couple of minutes, drenching your shirt with sweat and increasing the adrenaline with every move. As it proved, Neil was an excellent partner for that too. Your dynamic working perfectly as you bounced off the different techniques and styles, learning from each other in progress. Soon it became a matter of prediction, of staring at him intently to determine the very next step and to block it efficiently. A few mistakes resulted in bruises here and there, but it was nothing compared to the elation flowing through your veins. The occasional compliments and teases interrupted the flow, bringing out more feelings than you ever deemed possible to exist. At once. Joy, excitement, fatigue, and desire slowly combining into the strangest mix inside your head.

Because one thing was certain – it was increasingly difficult to ignore the way it felt when Neil got close. His strong arms, usually acting as your refuge, now a barrier you had to get through to win this battle. The closeness intoxicating as you tried to wrestle out of his hold, imposed by using the moment of hesitation on your side. But then who was to blame you for getting lost in his eyes? Again. With his chest pressed against your back and the forearms blocking any form of movement, you decided to put it all on the card of fate, hooking your leg around his in an attempt at a backflip taught by Ives. That was another fatal mistake.

You only realised how badly you have fucked up when you opened your eyes to see Neil peering down at you with the most annoying of grins painted on his face. Eyes sparkling with satisfaction that certainly should not be there. Shit. He got you pinned to the mat with hands trapping you underneath him. Not much space between your bodies. A fierce blush bloomed on your cheeks; embarrassment combined with sudden arousal once the exact placement of your limbs sunk in. The earlier misstep resulted in having your legs wound tightly around his waist and crossed over the back. Just like-

“This position is rather… familiar” the husky whisper broke through the sudden onset of feelings and thoughts as you met his gaze.

The darkness of the irises and the boundless depths of desire you found there providing the missing piece in the puzzle. The heat turning up a notch. Unable to break the eye contact, you watched in fascination as Neil seemed to consume you on the spot. His pupils widened, betraying the feelings reigning free over his mind as he contemplated the very next move. Frozen, you could only wait helplessly, feeling the well-known tension rise, causing havoc in your head. Still, what he chose to do next, caught you off guard.

He leaned in and captured your lips in an eager kiss, easily stealing away the breath and distracting you from anything else in the whole world. As you opened your mouth for him without hesitation, Neil used the moment to strike. His tongue caressed yours in exact opposition to the way his hips jutted forward, creating friction. The surprising ploy, drawing out a gasp and making you break the kiss with a telling hiss. The answering mischievous smirk the only warning before he did it again, rocking his body forward against yours, upping up the temperature, and making the warmth pool in your lower stomach instantly. The wetness, collecting on your underwear and sticking to the skin in an impulse you could not control.

“Jesus, Neil- You can’t just-” frustration poured out in incoherent sentences as you fought for sanity.

He, naturally, took that as the cue to up his game. The deadly smile was the last thing you saw before he bowed down, tongue darting out to lick down your neck and then cover the space with kisses. A groan escaped through your lips as you grabbed onto his biceps in search of support. A logical part of the brain told you to stop the madness (and drag him to your room to continue), but that voice could be barely heard through the overwhelming haze. More kisses, teeth grazing over the skin, hands slipping underneath your top, and using the lack of bra to cause more drama.

The added touch onto your breasts was what defeated the sanity and caused you to roll your hips against his, matching up the tempo in the frantic attempts at getting something out of it.

“Fuck” heaving out the curse, you could not stop the moan caused by Neil sucking on your pulse point below the ear.

All the reasons against continuing something this good disappeared one by one. The synced-up movement, making you breathless within seconds. The arousal, seeping through the underwear, only increasing with the way you could feel Neil react to it as well. The telling signs of his lust rubbing off against your crotch upon every thrust. Getting ever harder to ignore with sounds breaking up the forgotten sparring soundtrack.

“That good?” Neil’s question dripping with need as he rasped out the words upon your hungry kiss stolen in the moment of eagerness.

No point in holding back now. Grasping onto his chin to stop him from distracting you with yet another trick, you made sure to show the extent of want raging in your veins:

“It would be without all the bloody clothes in the way” piecing the sentence, you huffed with dissatisfaction.

Because after something like this, you wanted him. No, needed him. Anything to finally release the tension and catch the high. Because, as you began to discover, it was too easy to get addicted to him. To the pleasure, he always seemed happy to give you. To being wanted and needed like never before.

Even now, Neil seemed entranced, eyes searching your face for something. Whatever he needed, you delivered with the want in the unguarded look, for he grinned and nudged your nose with his.

“I like seeing you this needy, darling” choosing no mercy whatsoever he stole yet another hungry kiss.

All the while keeping up the friction. As if you could ignore the feelings building up for a minute longer.

Using the opportunity, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged at it with force. Drawing out blood and groans. A punishment. To strengthen the effect, you made sure to tangle your fingers in his hair, imposing light pressure. Enough to make him suffer a little more, but not as bad as to make him more predatory. That was another thing learned in the past days. You were right Neil had a hair thing. And using it right could work to your advantage. With satisfaction, you broke the kiss and watched as he opened his eyes, unfocused gaze and shallow breaths giving the needed bravery.

“Bastard,” you whispered and used his moment of hesitation to initiate the retaliation.

The answering smug smile giving more reasons to push on with the plan. With the full attention provided, you slowly licked your lips. A trick that always worked, making Neil stare with that same look of starvation hidden in his eyes. It was the confidence you were seeking to hook your leg around his and find the impetus to complete the switch in one smooth attempt.

It worked. You comfortably straddled his lap, pinning him to the floor. Only a shocked gasp told you he caught up with the change. You met his gaze smugly, using the new position to run your fingers up and down his chest, light teasing included in the act of vengeance. The answering groan more than gratifying, making you even happier to give him the taste of his own medicine and roll your hips forward.

“I like this new development,” Neil breathed out the comment, hands settling on your hips, “You know what, though? I’d love to see you snap one day. Get annoyed by my antics and punish me” it was the way he said it that made you freeze with one hand already underneath his shirt.

As though it was exactly what he wanted. Interesting…

“Is that what you’re into?” arching one eyebrow, you trailed your nails over the skin on his chest.

Watching the goosebumps with fascination. The light bruises on the sides reminding you of the morning the day prior and the sudden passion that resulted in marks all over your bodies.

“I’m into you, but yes,” Neil observed you with strange pensiveness, “Even a man like me needs to be dominated from time to time,” the challenge in his eyes already inspiring scenarios within your mind.

“That can be sorted then” you winked and used that moment to stand up, leaving him on the floor with mouth open wide.

Perfect. Grinning, you brushed off the dust from your clothes and strode over to the speaker, ignoring Neil pointedly. Only an exasperated sigh told you he managed to pick himself up. Using the towel, you wiped off the remains of sweat from your brow and turned back to him with a neutral expression:

“I’ll go shower,” you quickly eyed him, taking in the ruffled hair and flushed cheeks, “I’d ask you to join me… but I don’t want to traumatise anyone using the communal bathroom for that” a meaningful look making sure he understood.

The slight double-take all the needed confirmation. Neil swallowed hard, as though the suggestion was enough to make the images appear before his eyes. But then he flashed you a confident smile.

“Fret not once we’re back home, we’ll catch up on that. I’ve got that spacious shower for a reason,” a tiny shrug as though to make you remember.

Right. Another thing to add to the bucket list, no doubt. However, for now, you were not done with the taunting. He did deserve it.

“I see… do you often use it for those kinds of purposes?” draping the towel around your neck, you strolled towards him with an inquisitive look.

Another shrug. Hands reaching out to be placed on your waist and to draw you closer, keeping that one metre of space just for show. His eyes searched yours with feigned nonchalance before responding:

“Not really. But with you, I want to change that up a little. After all, I’ve got to convince you that having sex with you is wonderful,” followed with a nose nudge and a smirk.

For once, there was no shyness. Mirroring his moves, you put your hands on his sides, thumbs slowly stroking the hipbones, pulling him closer. Once your bodies were flush against each other, you grinned:

“Mutually” and then, upon noticing the well-known beat coming from the speaker, “One might even say you’ve brought the sexy back” a wink, using the lack of inhibitions in the air.

The answering gaping mouth and eyes widened in shock were good enough indicators that whatever this mood was, it should continue. After a second of confusion, Neil started laughing hysterically, collapsing against you with ease:

“… Jesus Christ,” he choked out the words, drawing you into a skewed hug if only to preserve the closeness.

The sudden outburst of happiness was not controllable even if you wanted. Giggling quietly, you waited for him to calm down, running your fingers up his back in a soothing manner. Once his laughs eased, you whispered:

“Sorry, blame that on JT” an apologetic shrug followed with a chaste kiss pressed to his temple.

The cheerful sparks in his eyes, telling all you could need to know. Thanks, universe.

“No, I love it” Neil’s words brought you back to the present moment as he took your hands in his “I love you,” the sincere confession breaking up the ridiculous atmosphere with tenderness.

“You better” your smile widened as you squeezed his hands in a non-verbal response.

It was only once you were heading out of the room, after at least three passionate kisses and some more infatuated gazing, that Neil chose to pick up the abandoned line of teasing.

“Make sure to think of me during your shower” you turned around, mouth open wide “For inspiration. I’ll be waiting” there was no mistaking the look in his eyes or the intentions behind it.

There was nothing left to do but walk out with cheeks burning red and head too empty to do anything but what he proposed.

For a good purpose, as the afternoon then showed you.

***

With the night falling on the last day before the fourteenth and the battle, you could feel the internal darkness creeping with every passing hour. By the early bedtime, there was nowhere to hide. Laying on the bed and waiting for Neil to come back from his shower, you could do nothing but stare at the ceiling blankly. Thousands of worries, questions, and scenarios multiplying in your head, threatening to steal away the remains of peace. It felt as though the curtain has fallen over your blissful days, leaving nothing but uncertainty. Because God knows what would happen at Stalsk. The plan was one thing, perfect execution - a different one.

With lungs failing to expand properly you considered getting up and marching outside to let the cold air give you something else to worry about. That is when the door to your cabin finally opened, and Neil walked in. A sight for sore eyes personified. Mindless of your struggles, he sent you a smile before placing the morning outfit on the chair. It became a ritual of sorts, with him bringing back the change of clothes to prolong the waking up period and stay in bed with you. Despite the anxiety rising exponentially, you could not help but smile at the tradition upheld on the eve of the battle. You watched in silence as he took off trousers and placed his phone on the bedside table. It was only once he sat down on the bed and faced you with fondness in his eyes that you knew the act of staring has been caught.

“Alright?” Neil reached out and tipped your chin to make sure you could not hide.

Gently his fingers caressed your jaw and down the neck, soothing the nerves and asserting his presence. You leaned into his touch and whispered the white lie:

“Yeah…” desperate to extend the bliss even a second longer, you joked lightly, “Was beginning to worry you’ve decided to ditch me tonight” shifting forward, you rested your forehead against his.

Closing your eyes and letting the feeling of being wanted envelope you in its sweet embrace.

“You wish,” the tint of joy in his voice adding on to the perfection of the moment, “There’s no getting rid of me that easily” Neil tucked the hair behind your ear, stroking your temple slowly in the process.

It felt almost unreal to have someone love you like that. So carefully, yet with a passion that did not seem to wane. The only thing left was to believe it. And let your feelings lead the way. You opened your eyes to find Neil staring back with the softest of smiles gracing his features. That was enough to whisper back the answer:

“What a shame,” and capture his lips in a hungry kiss.

Knowing the moves by heart, you have tangled your fingers in his hair and opened the mouth to deepen the kiss. It was always too simple, an act of devotion and a drug you could not imagine giving up. Each brush of his tongue against yours bringing sparks of electricity and pleasure, a promise of so much more only waiting to be taken.

Without breaking up the contact, you shifted to lie on top of Neil, stealing small pecks interrupted with smiles and sighs. Not knowing what bliss feels like, you assumed it must be like this. Because nothing seemed to come close to the feeling of being loved and wanted by him. To feeling the steady heartbeat as you pressed up against him in the closest of embraces. To having him grin against your mouth, interrupting the kisses with happy giggles, and stroking your back underneath the shirt in a simple act of tenderness.

It was once you felt his touch tread onto that well-known territory bridging the line between want and intimacy that you leaned back to meet his gaze. Slight confusion found in the blue eyes as you fell back onto your side and took his hand in yours:

“Can we… not do this tonight?” the tentative whisper broke the silence as your nerves spoke up again.

Because despite never having enough of Neil, tonight you wanted something innocent. Something easy. Asking for it felt almost wrong as if it could be too much. With the countless worries anchoring within your mind, you focused all your attention on studying his hand attentively. The thin scars scattered across the skin. Neatly trimmed fingernails and elegant fingers betraying the sensitive nature of the man you loved without any inhibitions. Neil as always noticed the sudden shyness, for he kissed you on the forehead before answering:

“Of course,” the affirmation given without a stutter, as he retracted his palm from underneath your clothes, “What do you need?” with the free hand cupping your cheek, he forced you to meet his gaze again.

Concern and affection. All the needed encouragement to speak your mind. To reach out for everything he wanted to give you.

“Hold me, please,” forcing out an uncertain smile, you wound your arms around his waist, snuggling in to find the perfect position.

But it was not enough.

“How do you want me?” the question asked with the glimmer in his eyes that told you he remembered the night from London.

Months ago, while also something that has not happened yet. Linearly, that is.

“Closer” this time, the answer could not have been simpler.

Neil accepted it with a hint of a smug smile as he pulled you close. Spreading his legs for yours to fit in-between. Hips flush against each other, heartbeat synced. Hands clinging to the warmth of your skin, his lips pressed against your temple. No inch of space left. Exactly as you needed.

With the brain strangely quiet, you breathed in his scent, letting the reality catch up. Yours. The soothing warmth of the embrace and solidity of his body underneath your fingertips making you feel safe. Even if only for the moment.

A short moment? Prompted by the harsh reminder of time running out mercilessly, you tensed and splayed your hand over his heart. A clear signal for Neil to tighten the hold and nuzzle your temple. Waiting for the words to come spilling out of your heart.

And they did.

“I- There’s so much goddamn noise in my head, and it’s beginning to drive me mad” after finishing the sentence breathlessly, you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

Smelling the bergamot and hints of your perfume, increasing the love held within your system. Following the instincts, Neil started running his fingertips up the curve of your spine, giving you something to focus on. The steadiness of the movement grounding you back in the present.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” the soft tone melting the edges of sharp blades penetrating your mind with anxiety, “I can’t stop the thoughts, but I’ll make sure you know I’m not going anywhere,” confirming the meaning, he took hold of your hand lying on his chest and laced the fingers.

Another way of showing support. Of letting you believe your luck. Nothing left but to press a kiss to his neck and whisper:

“Thank you… We’ll be alright, won’t we?” the question forcing itself on your tongue.

Because it was all that mattered. For you and Neil to survive. To have time to love each other. But… tomorrow is promised to no one. The counterarguments preparing to strike with force as they assembled at the bottom of your heart. You could die tomorrow. That was a fact, as true as the knowledge that the world could end. The bomb could go off. This could be the last moment of peace you would have. And there was no way of knowing whether it was. The fear creeping in with nothing to stop it.

“I hope so,” as though sensing the growing unease, Neil raised your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

You need not look at him to know what you would find in his beautiful eyes. It was the knowledge of feelings reciprocated that gave you the courage to speak the truth. To reassert what he already knew. Just because it could be the last time.

“Earlier today, after we’ve… I’ve realised that… I’ve never been more in love,” stumbling through the sentence, you whispered the confession against his skin, “And I don’t want it to end” a deep breath to gain back the momentum “I need you, Neil. You’re everything I have…” you faltered, feeling tears blur the edges of your vision.

As if your heart knew something you did not. As if being this vulnerable was the trigger you were seeking. There was much more you could tell him, but no words were found for it. Instead, you felt the embrace tighten as Neil kissed the tip of your ear tenderly.

“We’ll be alright, my love,” the endearment getting lost in the quietest of sniffles “I’ll make sure of it” he hesitated, the edge of your breakdown impacting him too with the emotions betrayed in every syllable, “And I don’t know if it needs saying, but… You’re my everything too. I’m not going to give up on us,” the definitive promise offering all the strength for you to raise your head.

Tears shining in your eyes as your gazes met. Worth fighting for.

***

The feeling of safety gave way to worries not longer than an hour after you finally gave in to sleep. Gasping, you opened your eyes in a flash after a particularly terrifying and confusing nightmare full of inverted rounds and ticking bombs. Blindly you rolled over to the side where you would usually find Neil, only for your hands to clutch at nothingness. Shit. The realization working better than any alarm clock as you sat up and turned on the lamp.

Empty room. Darkness outside. Neil’s phone left by the bed. Next to it a piece of paper torn out of a notebook:

“Couldn’t sleep. Find me on the bridge if you need me. Yours, N.”

The initial tugged on your heartstrings as you quickly made up your mind. It was only past one. And there was hardly any chance of going to sleep now. Without him by your side and with the brain haunted by terrifying dreams. You stood up and quickly got dressed in the hoodie he left the day before and joggers.

The moment you stepped outside the cabin corridor, the silence and cold hit you with their starkness. Usually, at this hour, the icebreaker would be alive with the sounds of the crew and troops getting ready for the night. There would be groups chatting in the mess or the galley. Soldiers catching late-night sparring sessions or betting on who would get more bullseye shots at the shooting range. Not tonight, though.

Without stumbling upon a single soul, you walked over to the bridge. Cold hands clutched together in the hoodie pocket. Untangling only to deal with the zip by the airlock.

Once you crossed the threshold, you knew you were in the right place. The silence finally interrupted with voices. Most importantly, with the sound of Neil explaining something in those soft tones that always brought you peace. The darkness of the room enlightened by the single fluorescent above the empty table. Kat was sat in the chair opposite him, focused on what he was saying. As you took off the oxygen mask with a quiet sigh, they both turned to you. Neil brightened up in a flash, a soft smile lightening up his face as he reached out for your hand. You sent Kat a shy nod as you let your boyfriend pull you down onto the sofa:

“Hello,” she grinned, giving you both a satisfied once-over.

The echo of the conversation you had the day before ringing out in the spaces between words. Nothing left but to relax into the pillows and give them both an apologetic shrug:

“Hi… Hope I’m not interrupting” you watched as they shared an amused look, followed by Kat getting up to make tea.

You knew instantly what this was. A moment of privacy.

“Never” Neil’s voice made you turn to him only to see the affection pouring out from his gaze.

Gently he took hold of your ice-cold hands and warmed them up between his palms with care. It was too easy to feel the love fill your chest again. As if switched back on whenever Neil was nearby. Somehow the darkness felt less frightening with him by your side. After a beat, you answered the unasked question:

“I woke up without you, and…” trailing off, you looked at Kat pouring water from the kettle into the mugs.

She seemed entirely focused on the task, mindless of your conversation. Using the encouragement, you moved closer to Neil and captured his lips in a quick kiss. He responded instantly, placing his hand on your cheek to draw you nearer and take whatever you wanted to give him. This time, because of company, the contact ended in a happy sigh a few seconds later as you pressed your forehead against his for a moment. Just enough to share a look of love and a shy grin. Hearing the unmistakable sound of teaspoon clanking in the mug, you leaned back, away from him yet keeping your hands locked in the space between you on the sofa.

“Sorry. I couldn’t fall asleep and didn’t want to wake you. So, I came here and stumbled upon Kat,” Neil explained, breaking the silence and acknowledging the other woman with a sympathetic nod.

Using that line as her cue to turn back to you, Kat handed you both warm mugs. Only a grateful grin could be given before you took a sip and let the tea melt the remains of ice that settled in your chest. With the comfortable silence setting in, you asked:

“Nerves?” giving the woman a quick once over, it was easy to determine that she too has been struggling with the night-time demons.

The shadows under her eyes, hands clutching tightly at the mug as if to find comfort in the warmth it provided. Making you appreciate the hand holding yours even more than you deemed possible.

“Yeah,” Kat swallowed hard, her gaze focusing on the darkness outside “Suppose it’s nothing for you, in a business like this but… I’ve never had to deal with a world-ending situation. Let alone have it depend on me. Partially” she finished the confession with eyebrows knitted together.

“In truth… neither did I” Neil leaned forward, the sombre look in his eyes settling on Kat, “Sure there were some missions of a bigger caliber than a few boxes of inverted artillery smuggled across Scotland… but nothing exactly like this” hiding grin caused by his answer, you took a longer sip of tea.

There was something incredibly true about him at this moment. Discussing the topics of deadly nature yet adding jokes and anecdotes to keep you all that one step away from despair. Tightening the hold over his hand, you added:

“The grand plan,” murmuring the words you once heard TP say, you reflected, “I bet my uni professors would never quite believe it if I told them that this is where international relations got me” feeling Neil’s gaze, you turned to look at him.

A crooked smile and hair falling into his eyes. Perfection.

“More like fate,” he countered, thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly.

Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from grinning too widely, you nodded:

“That too,” or I’d like to believe it is.

After a beat, you both faced Kat again, only to encounter her knowing smile, curling the lips with a sharp edge of steel. Then her expression softened as though realising the reality once again.

“Are you scared? Of having to do this… together?” it was the hesitancy that helped you understand the meaning.

You knew Neil caught up too, for her moved an inch closer. Shoulder to shoulder, knees touching. No unnecessary gaps. Together. Just when you thought of answering her question, Neil cleared his throat:

“A little… It’s like… on the one hand, I’m glad we’ll be on the same team, as then I can keep an eye on you” he gave you a little shoulder bump as if to accentuate the addressee, “But then I’ve always been warned about being emotionally compromised during missions. Trouble is I’ve been compromised like that for months, at least” an apologetic shrug to complete the sentence.

He was not even looking at you. Yet, it was too easy to understand what he meant. An excuse for the warmth to settle in your heart again. Months. More reasons to keep fighting for the future.

“Sorry,” returning the nudge, you frowned, “On my side, ever since you came up with this idiotic idea to deal with the lock, I knew I’d follow. Because there’s no way in hell, I’d let you do it alone. But, as you say, the element of emotional compromise is there. God knows I’m terrified of whatever might happen,” the ramblings only stopping because you have run out of breath, “It’s like… when you’re young, and you want to change the world. Sometimes you even begin to believe that it’s going to be your purpose. To be the hero and save the day. But most people grow out of that and never even get the chance” ending the observation, you noticed the two pairs of eyes focused on you.

Kat’s light blue gaze, staring wistfully, nothing but understanding and melancholy. As if whatever you said triggered something deep within the confines of her heart. As if she was grateful.

Neil looked as though he could not quite believe you existed. As though your words made him fall even harder. And then he shook himself awake again, clutching your hand tightly.

“But we do” he nodded lightly, offering support should you need it.

Letting you know that the fate of the world was not only on your shoulders. We. That pronoun again. In response, you could only give back the voice to those things that you still wanted to share with them:

“Yes, exactly. And the child that still occupies parts of my heart… she’s excited to be the hero. While grown-up me is just terrified of the stakes” staring at the dark horizon, you noticed quietly, “Never did I dream of saving the world from an inverted atomic bomb-”

“-Well, actually-” Neil interjected with his picture-perfect, MA in Physics tone, making you roll your eyes affectionately.

Idiot. You exchanged an exasperated grin with Kat before stopping him from starting up a lecture about the details of the Algorithm with a hand clamped over his mouth.

“Shut up, mister smarty-pants” your smile widened at the shocked look in his eyes before you lifted your hand and continued, “But at the same time it makes sense… sort of” faltering, you looked around the space looking for something else to say.

“I know what you mean. I never expected any of this to happen to me, but now that it did… I guess I should’ve seen it coming” Kat had your back, agreeing with your words with the same sense of apprehension in her voice.

It was easy to tell what she meant. The guilt entirely unnecessary yet unavoidable for someone this good. Your need of protest got cut short by Neil:

“Kat, don’t blame yourself for not knowing what Andrei is doing. None of that is your fault” upon her pained look he gave her a reassuring smile to confirm the sentiment.

“It’s easier said than done… but thank you” she offered him a weak attempt at a smile and then looked at you with sparks in her eyes, “You got yourself quite the catch there,” a tiny nod in the direction of the blonde man.

Indeed. Unable to stop the happiness rising in your chest, you countered her look with a smug grin of your own:

“I know” ignoring the blush spreading across Neil’s cheeks, you patted him on the head, “He’s incredible,” an appreciative look at your boyfriend and the free hand placed on his knee.

That woke him up.

“He? I’ve got a name, you know,” the feigned spitefulness making a giggle rise in your throat.

Neil glared at you, the act only betrayed by the very way the corner of his mouth curled up, disrupting the frown. Forcing a poker face, you chose to just go for it:

“Yes, and it sounds as though you were English pensioner spending days playing bingo on Malta,” the slight delivered perfectly.

Gratification instantaneous, with Kat laughing hysterically in the background as you observed Neil’s reaction. He froze mid inhale, eyes widened, showing nothing but confusion. And then his mouth opened to choke out:

“…what the-” before he could get to the expletive of choice, the sound of the zip lock interrupted him with abruptness.

Before either of you turned to check who the newcomer was, you met Neil’s bewildered gaze and shrugged. Squeezing his knee as addition and lifting your hand to make the position a little bit more neutral.

“I see it’s not just me who can’t sleep” Wheeler’s voice ringing out in the room made you turn to look at her.

Stood by the entrance, she gave you all an assessing look. Somehow her appearance felt right. Another grounding voice against the rising unease and panic. Someone to pull you back down from the anxious high horse.

“No rest for the wicked” Neil seemingly got over the previous paralysis, for he offered the woman his best rendition of a devilish smirk and threw his arm over the back of the sofa.

Hand landing perfectly by your shoulder. Simple intimacy.

“What’s on the agenda?” Wheeler strolled across the room to sit on the chair by the table.

Dark gaze nonchalantly slipping over the two of you on the sofa. She was never the one to comment on what she observed, but the way she looked at you was enough. The label was painted in the cheeky smile, hidden in the corner of her mouth. Lovebirds. Somehow you knew that at some point, you would be cornered and made to tell the story with necessary details. If only so that she would have digs in the arsenal of sarcasm at a ready. Ignoring the desire to run away, you answered the question:

“Mostly discussing how strange it all is. You know, us of all people, getting a chance to be the heroes” sensing the apprehension rise again, you added, “I feel like if they knew their fate is down to us… they’d be terrified,” a chill running up your spine.

Suddenly uncomfortable, you inched closer to Neil, using his raised arm to lean into his side and find solace. He understood the intent in a second and pulled you nearer, shooting you a quick concerned look. Questions were no doubt coming after.

“And I wouldn’t blame them,” Wheeler agreed with your grave statement with the usual pensiveness, “Normally I don’t get this jittery before missions… but this one feels more important” she stared at the horizon, lost in thought.

With the anxious thoughts waiting around the corner, you searched your head for anything to light up the mood. A stupid joke or a snide comment. But there was nothing.

“Like something could go wrong?” Kat interrupted your train of thought with the simple question.

Alarmed, you looked up to notice the two women exchange a tense look. It really could go wrong. The worst type of wrong.

Neil sensed the way you stiffened, for he pressed his lips to your temple and gave you a quick kiss. His hand tightened the hold over yours, increasing the feeling of being protected. Got you. As always.

You barely noticed when the airlock opened again. Or when another person walked into the room and took off the oxygen mask.

“What’s all this then?” Ives looked around with the eyebrow raised pointedly.

With the whirlwind of emotions, the only thing left to do was to plant your face in your palms, groaning loudly. What the fuck.

Feeling the questioning gazes of everybody else, you slowly raised your head and asked the soldier with blatant tone:

“Could you be any more British?” a mirrored arched eyebrow for the additional effect.

Maybe he was the distraction you needed. The final piece in the puzzle.

No bullshit taken as Ives grinned and gave you the showpiece bow borrowed from The Crown.

“Top of the morning to you, luv” straightening, he raised his hand to tip off the invisible top hat.

The snicker coming from Neil was the only response you ever needed as you rolled your eyes and hid your face in his chest. No point in pretending.

“Couldn’t sleep?” stroking your back slowly, Neil asked the question.

You appreciated how he accepted your sudden need to be comforted. With the careful touch running up your spine, gently scratching the skin, your thoughts slowed down to an acceptable white noise.

“Yeah. The bunk beds are fucking awful, and I’ve no one to cuddle me” it was the neutral way he said it that made you break out into a violent laugh.

The kind when it is increasingly harder to catch your breath, yet the lightness permeating the chest makes everything worth the aching diaphragm and tears running down the cheeks. You heard Kat follow suit, the light giggles bringing hope you wished to find in the darkness of the night.

“Sorry mate, I’m taken,” Neil shrugged, gesturing towards you.

From the comfortable position, you could make out the smirk on Ives’s face as he threw the remark:

“Traitor,” he sat down on one of the empty chairs and noticed, “Anna will be heartbroken, mind you” a passing glance at the two of you snuggled on the sofa.

At the reminder of the receptionist, you sighed heavily. Because yeah, sure, there was nothing to regret in the best turn your life could have taken. But spiteful looks and cold treatment from Anna were not on the list of things you wanted to keep on experiencing.

As if following your line of thoughts, Neil waved his hand dismissively:

“Oh, she’ll get over it,” you grinned at the hint of irritation in his voice, “Plus, it’s not like I’ve ever promised her anything… Not my fault this one came along and stole my heart,” placing his palm on your thigh, he gave you a loud smack on the forehead.

You raised your head in time to see Ives look as if he was close to getting sick on the floor. For once, you could not blame him.

“Dramatic much,” glaring at Neil, you bopped him on the nose with a poker face.

The only sign he noticed was the deepening state of perplexion visible in his blue eyes.

“Who’s Anna?” Kat’s innocent question was the one to throw you out of the strangest conversation and back into the present moment.

Exchanging a glance with Neil, who shrugged as though permitting you to share the tale, you began. Right where it started for you, with the flirting over the admission papers on that first afternoon. Omitting the more private details of your story, and with Neil’s help with the background, you have managed to entertain her with the account of all things Anna. By the end, Kat was looking at you both with eyes wide and cheeks wet from laughing.

It only got better with Ives and Wheeler contributing to the discussion with tales from the past and anecdotes of their missions long before you came into the picture.

When the silence finally fell again, it was less charged with tension. Sipping a second cup of tea, you rested your head over Neil’s chest, comfortably curled up and content.

“What do you want to do after this?” Wheeler asked the question after a beat with a smile on her face.

Nothing needed clarification. An attempt at making the morning seem less daunting. A spark of hope for after – the magical space where you desperately wished to find yourself already.

“Go to a pub and get pissed” Ives grinned from over the rim of his mug, devilish sparks lightening up his blue eyes.

Too tired to react, you chose to sigh heavily and catch Wheeler’s bemused glare as she scoffed:

“How typical” she rolled her eyes and smiled at you as though sharing a private joke.

Men.

“I was planning to invite you along, but now I’m not so sure” the solder cut back with a feigned sulk.

“I’d rather catch up on all those missed boxing classes,” the retort coming without a second missed, causing a giggle to rise in your throat.

Who knew team banter would be the cure for all ails?

That and the steady embrace, holding you close with hands resting on your knee and waist. Letting you know that no matter the future, he was there. All yours.

“Boring,” Ives murmured the response lowly, earning shooting daggers from his second in command.

You felt Neil chuckle as he rested his chin on the top of your head, observing the conversation silently. Your eyes fell upon Kat, a little separated from the idiotic narrative that overwhelmed the four of you. Suddenly feeling a wave of sympathy towards her, you asked:

“What about you, Kat?” as your eyes met, you sent her a small smile.

“I want to go home to Max and finally live my life without that fear of Andrei lurking in the shadows behind my back,” the candid answer whispered almost shyly, “Sorry, I’ve made it all dark-” she added, looking at the rest of you with panic.

Before you could jump in with reassurance, Ives spoke up:

“It’s alright,” he countered her embarrassed look with a stone-cold resilience, “I offer to shoot that fucker on sight if he somehow comes out of this alive” a shrug to complete the proposal.

The genuine grin on Kat’s face was unmissable.

“Appreciated” she nodded curtly as if to mask the initial reaction.

Before you could ponder on it for too long, Wheeler broke the silence again:

“Neil?” her gaze slipped over you once again, the smirk still hiding on her lips.

You felt him raise his head, tightening the hold over your waist as if it was necessary. And then…

“What I want to do is between me and my girlfriend,” the cheeky undertone making you blush instantly and slap him across the knee in an ill-fated attempt at chiding.

That spark of curiosity not easily diminished, however. You made a mental note to ask him as soon as you were alone what that meant. Because, admittedly, doing things with Neil was the height of your wishes too. And most of those were best kept private.

“Thank fuck”

Ives’s candid reply brought you back to the moment in time to hear Neil add:

“-But… I just want to go on holiday. Spend at least a week without stress and the weight of the whole world on my back. And maybe visit my parents… it’s been way too long” the melancholic tone did not get unnoticed despite the panic that crept up your spine.

Following the basic instincts, you lurched forward to be able to look at him. There was no mistaking that confident expression.

“Should I begin to worry? Because ‘meeting the parents’ sounds… official,” you whispered the word with apprehension.

Yes, that sort of thing was probably expected, given how serious he was. But still. The fear of making an idiot out of yourself in front of Neil’s family enough to trigger the anxiety once more. Somehow it sounded worse than dying in the Siberian shithole tomorrow.

With the tense silence that fell, you could almost hear the way the rest of those present were staring at the two of you with curiosity.

“We are official” Neil reached out to brush away the hair falling into your eyes, “We’ll talk about it later. After,” the soft smile administered perfectly, cutting through your worries in an instant.

Maybe you could survive it. Maybe.

“So… Y/N?” at the mention of your name, you looked up at Wheeler.

Right. Diplomatic, subdued answer it is.Somehow it got easier to find the words with Neil’s hand resting on your knee again.

“Holidays would be nice, certainly” stealing a glance at your boyfriend, you exchanged an excited grin, “And maybe some time to walk around London, appreciate life… I don’t know I think I miss the mundanity. Getting coffee on my way to the lecture; visiting random shops and browsing the shelves just because I could. No inverted bullets, no timey wimey bullshit” with the spite thrown in, you left out a long exhale.

That life seemed so far away now. Almost like something out of a dream, rather than your reality before Neil and Tenet. While you would never wish for anything but your current circumstances, sometimes you missed the normality. The lack of danger waiting upon every corner. No necessity to consider fatal sacrifice in the name of love. Normalcy.

“Think you two have travel agency visit booked,” Wheeler commented, looking between you and Neil with a knowing smile on her lips.

Using the most basic of gravitational pulls, you turned to face Neil with a hopeful look. With how close you were seating, only inches of space left between your faces. Despite the tiredness and insomnia, he was utterly stunning, taking your breath away within seconds. A part of your brain wanted nothing but to press your lips against his, mindless of the audience. As though using the same wavelength, Neil glanced at your mouth for a split second, causing a resurgence of butterflies in your stomach. They never seemed to get a rest anymore. Sharing one last long look, you nodded at the unasked question and awaited his response:

“Mhmm… I like the sound of that” another happy grin and a hand grasping yours tightly, “But now, I think we should try sleeping” stifling a yawn, he finished the tea and stood up to wash the mugs.

Using the slightly awkward silence, you jumped up from the sofa and sent the rest of the group a grateful grin:

“Thanks for this… whatever this was” shrugging lightly, you felt a wave of gratitude fill your chest with warmth.

Suddenly the morning felt a little less terrifying. Perhaps for once, you did belong. For once, you were not alone.

“Always up for chatting shit on the eve of the battle” with the bemused smirk on his face, Ives got up and gave you a quick pat on the back.

You only registered that Neil was back by your side when he placed his arm over your shoulder protectively:

“One could even say… that the real treasure is the friends we made along the way” it was the casual way he said it that made you look at him incredulously.

“Is that… Disney?” with your eyebrows knitted together, you tried to find remains of coherence.

Again: what the fuck.

“Maybe,” shrugging, Neil grinned at Ives as if nothing happened.

“Are you regretting your life choices?” the soldier ignored him and stared at you without a shadow of emotion discernible.

With the overwhelming tiredness and brain cells dying one by one, it was easy to choose.

“Maybe,” parroting Neil, you grabbed his hand “You, with me” without protest, you steered him towards the exit, “Think you need rest,”

Just before you could zip up the airlock after the two of you, Ives’ comment broke the silence:

“Take care of each other out there. I want to get an invitation to that wedding” he shot you a serious look, hiding the concern evident in the blue eyes.

Biting harshly on your lip to prevent the sudden need to run back in there and hug him, you raised your hand in mock salute:

“Yes, sir,” a final nod of understanding before you closed the door.

It would be alright. It had to.

#tenet #tenet fanfic #neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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dakotacrisis · 3 years

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Topsy Turvy (2)

Welp, I guess I am expanding on this. I may have already been planning to write a part 2 but I wasn’t expecting to do it this quickly. While I am doing my own thing with the content initially inspired by the previous comic I did steal one of Plagg’s lines from their continuation comic cause it was too funny to be ignored.

So anyhoo! Here’s a part two!

---

“Geez, you would think Hawkmoth would give us one morning off,” Alya groaned. Marinette, Nino, and Alya had been heading towards the station to meet Adrien when that giant robot akuma came out of nowhere.

Now the girls returned to a worried looking Nino who embraced Alya happily. Marinette lingered a bit away from them looking pale and sweaty. Alya sighed and went back to comfort her. “Don’t worry, girl, I’m sure things with Adrien will work out.”

“Yeah...about that…”

The train slid into the station. The doors opened and people started flooding out. Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm and pulled her down to whisper in her ear. “I freaked out seeing Adrien while I was Ladybug and might have, sort of, asked him out to the movies.”

“As Ladybug?”

“Yeah.”

“What is wrong with you! That wasn’t the plan! You were going to do that only if he rejected you as Marinette!”

“I know but I didn’t want to get rejected so I jumped the gun. Do you think this will mess things up?”

“I don’t know! We don’t know what his reply is gonna be. What did he say after you asked him out?”

“Nothing. I left before he could answer.”

“I love you but I am going to kill you.” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Heads up,” Nino called for the girls’ attention, “I can see Adrien.”

“I’m gonna make a run for it.” Marinette took two steps before Alya pounced on her and forced her back.

“You dug this grave, now lie in it.” Alya grabbed her arm and pulled her down the platform towards Adrien.

Adrien was walking in a dazed state and his face was beet red. He almost walked completely past them before Nino hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Hey dude! It's great to have you back."

"Oh hi, Nino," Adrien snapped out of his daze, "You didn't have to come meet me."

"Sure we did," the three of them started walking back out of the station. Adrien clung close to Nino as he told them about his trip. His gaze kept flickering down to Marinette who walked in step with Alya. Nino would have found it funny if it wasn’t for the fact that Marinette looked like she wanted to melt into the ground.

After their initial phone call two weeks ago Adrien had been really quiet about the whole confession thing. He sent lots of pictures from his trip and talked to him but anything having to do with Marinette was nonexistent. He figured he was working through his feelings on his own. It may have been because Marinette was his friend or Alya’s aggressive shipping of the two but he hoped Adrien chose her. They really were made for each other.

The girls left early and Nino invited Adrien back to his place to hang out. "I'm glad you had fun on your trip. You must have had a lot on your mind regardless."

"A lot on my mind?"

"We were gonna have to talk about it at some point," Nino collapsed into a beanbag chair, "About Marinette?"

Adrien went rigid. "Ma-Marinette? What about Marinette?"

Nino looked at him deadpanned. "Dude, she confessed to you? Remember?"

"Yeah," Adrien sat down next to him, "I remember."

"So did you come to a decision while you were away?" Nino asked.

"Not really, I keep flip-flopping about it. I know being with Marinette would be the easier option and she's great. I would be lucky to call her my girlfriend."

"But?"

"I still really love Ladybug and after what happened today…"

"What happened today?"

Adrien recounted to Nino about the akuma and how Ladybug and Rena Rouge saved him. Then how Ladybug had asked him out to see a movie.

"HOLY CRAP!" Nino gaped, "Ladybug asked you out? Why didn’t you lead with that?"

"I guess because I was still processing it happened." Adrien leaned back so he was staring up at the ceiling, "It feels like I'm dreaming. I'm happy but it also confused me more."

"I wouldn't blame you for being confused. Having a friend confess to you and then your crush asking you out...it's a lot to think of."

"I feel like the answer should be obvious. But it doesn't feel that way anymore."

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Marinette said she wasn’t expecting an answer but I still owe her something. I don’t even know how serious Ladybug was with her invitation. She could have just been messing with me but I don’t really see casual flirting as something she would do.” Adrien pondered it some more. Nino could see the gears turning in his head.

“I’d like to see you and Marinette together but I can’t force you to be with her. If it turns out Ladybug is who you really want then that’s okay too. Marinette’s strong and for the most part it sounds like she just wanted to let you know she had feelings for you. You don’t have to feel guilty about either option. I hope you know that.”

“You’re so sagely. It’s throwing me off,” Adrien laughed, “Go back to saying dude and talking through a mouth full of hot cheetos please. But seriously though, thanks for talking with me about this. It helps.”

“I’m always here for you, brother,” Nino tossed him a controller, “Now let me whip your butt in Mario Kart.”

---

Adrien returned home after a few rounds of Mario Kart with Nino. He was already pushing things with his father by going off with his friends earlier instead of heading straight home. He received a cool welcome from his father when he walked inside the mansion before he was gone again. At least he had deigned to greet him when he got home. That’s more than what he expected out of him.

He climbed the stairs to his room. “Alright, you can come out now,” Adrien told Plagg.

“You couldn’t have snuck me some cheetos while you were hanging out with your friend?” Plagg whined, “I’m starving!”

“There were three full camembert tins as well as an emergency string cheese in my bag. How are you starving?”

“I ate those on the ride back to Paris. Now I’m hungry again!” Plagg crawled across Adrien’s bed, “I’m so weak, Adrien. I can hardly move. Everything around me is going dark. I can hear the angels singing.”

“You are a menace.” Adrien picked him up and tossed him into his cheese cabinet. “Happy?”

“I feel rejuvenated!” Plagg cackled as he dove head first into a new tin of camembert. Adrien rolled his eyes and closed the cabinet door.

He went to the window and looked out over the lights of the city. He couldn’t wait to be back running across that skyline. Two weeks without being Chat Noir had been torture. Ladybug assured him that she and Rena had things covered when he told her he was going away for a bit. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about it.

Maybe he could tear Plagg away from his cheese hoard for a quick jaunt around town. Maybe he’d even see Ladybug.

Oh Ladybug. All this time he had been trying and failing to woo her as Chat Noir and then without any prompting she asked Adrien out. He still wasn’t sure if she was serious. How badly he hoped that she was though. He wanted it to be real. He wanted Ladybug to love him. Now it looked like he had a chance at that but there was only one snag. Marinette.

Sweet and wonderful Marinette. He already broke her heart as Chat Noir. Could he stand to do it again as Adrien? He really didn’t want to but neither did he want to leave her in suspense of an answer. He wished things could be simpler.

He thought back to what Plagg said on the train and scoffed. “Monogamy is a concept invented by humans.” he repeated it back to himself, “As much as I would love to be in the middle of a Ladybug/Marinette sandwich I don’t think that’s an option. I think I would combust at the mere possibility.”

He pressed his head to the cool window and sighed. His eyes fluttered close. He should just go to bed at this point. He would stay up all night worrying himself into knots about what to do at this rate. He opened his eyes once more and fell back with a startled yelp.

“Oops, sorry,” Ladybug waved at him upside down through the glass, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh no, no you’re fine.” Adrien shot to his feet, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” she righted herself and perched on top of his open window, “I wanted to come by and talk to you. I realize I kind of gave you a shock today during the akuma attack. The whole asking you to go to a movie thing.”

“Right, yeah, I was certainly surprised.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. Ladybug was in his room! Okay, she was sitting on his window but that was still in his room. “I gotta know, were you being serious or were you just fooling with me? I won’t be mad if you were but I just wanna know.”

“Yeah, about that,” he could swear he saw Ladybug blushing. Ladybug was blushing around him! “I did mean what I said. I think you’re a nice guy and I know that we haven’t ever interacted that much but I like you. I have no idea what you think of me but now you know what I think of you. So...thoughts?”

“I think you’re amazing.” Adrien answered without hesitation. His feet brought him closer to the window so he could better gaze up at her. Her head was silhouetted in moonlight casting a bright white halo around her dark hair. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she gazed stared back at him. Her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pink.

Adrien cleared his throat and spoke again. “I’ve actually had a crush on you for ages. I had trouble believing anything would come of it though.”

“Oh really?” Ladybug smirked, “Ages you say?”

Adrien’s mouth went dry. He nodded his head.

“Well if that ain’t a kick in the head,” she chuckled softly, “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

Wait. Hold up! Ladybug had a crush on him? He knew that she liked him but a crush? For how long? Adrien’s mind flashed back to when Ladybug told him she was in love with someone else. Was the someone else Adrien? Had he been getting rejected all this time because Ladybug was already in love with him?

“Adrien?” Ladybug waved a hand in front of his face, “Did I lose you? Was that too forward? I’m sorry if it was.”

“No! I’m just really happy!” Adrien blurted out. “I...I uh…if you still want I would like to go to that movie with you.”

Ladybug smiled. “Great. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I will be,” he would move the heavens themselves in order to be free if so needed.

“Awesome. They’re doing a classic movie night at the theater tomorrow. We could see the original La Belle et la Bete or Citizen Kane or Roman Holiday.”

“Aren’t they playing Psycho as well?”

“A horror movie?” Ladybug’s eyes widened. “I mean if that’s what you want to see...well um…”

“Wait,” Adrien said, “Are you--are you scared of horror movies?”

“Yeah, I know, big bad hero Ladybug gets scared watching horror movies. Laugh it up.” she shook her head.

“I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t!” Adrien couldn’t help but smile though. He learned something new about her. “La Belle et la Bete sounds nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the original. I’ve only seen the Disney version and the live action remake they did back in 2014.”

“Well then,” Ladybug twisted her yo-yo around in her hands. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening for our date.”

“Can’t wait.” Adrien was smiling like a fool. Ladybug gave him another wave goodbye before leaping off into the night. Adrien watched from the open window with a dreamy smile on his face. He had a date with Ladybug!

Then his heart sunk. He was gonna have to reject Marinette now. He hoped she wouldn’t take it too hard.

---

“I have a date with Adrien! I have a date with Adrien!” Marinette danced around her room. The kwamis were all out and celebrating with her. Alya sat on the chaise with a knowing smile. This wasn’t what Alya had planned but it looked like it worked out in the end. She had never seen Marinette so happy.

“Oh no,” Marinette stopped abruptly. “I have a date with Adrien!”

She ran to her closet and started pulling out clothes. “What am I gonna wear? It’s a movie date so it shouldn’t be anything too fancy but I don’t want to look like a slob. Should I wear something warm if the theatre is cold? But with all that body heat it’s bound to be warm so should I dress lighter? Alya, what do you think?”

“I think that you’re going as Ladybug so what you have on under your costume won’t make much of a difference.” Alya was trying not to laugh.

“Oh right,” Marinette threw her clothes back down, “Forgot about that part.”

“And you’re okay with dating Adrien as Ladybug? You don’t think that’s gonna cause any problems down the road? If you want this relationship to go anywhere in the future you’ll need to tell him who you are.”

“I know, but that isn’t for a good long while. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

The words of a fool in love. Alya decided to let her have her moment and not say anything. Tomorrow night would be interesting indeed.

---

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#miraculous ladybug #post gang of secrets #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #plagg #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #topsy turvy #ladrien #for sure this time #writing

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kxmssblog · 2 years

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Featuring:

Mob Boss Kim Minsoek 'Xiumin' × Reader

EXO Ensemble x Reader

YN on her way to her morning classes, she is caught in a mafia turf war and ambush-gone-wrong situation. Accidentally, she takes a bullet ment for Minseok, the turf's Mob Boss. He and the mob, now go out of their way to save and protect her, when assumptions are made by rivals, of what YN may mean to the Mob Boss when they saw him save her.

Warnings: Graphic Mentions of Violence, Injuries, Blood, Sexual References later in the story, Angst.

AN: Could the barista...

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Ugh, Monday.

You day was packed with a number of deadlines for the week ahead. You had technical drawings to get up to scratch for the project Crit by all your professors on your design project. Your laptop was acting up last night. Crashing, awakening and restarting, all hope crying out to the universe, that the very latest wall and fixture was saved, backed up or recovered.

At the moment, your dull headache and light-headedness was being aggravated by your best friend’s screeches in your ear, as you loosely clutches at the phone. Another dream kept you up, too.

"Biiiiiii, how far did you go with the research?" The other girl’s dragged-out profanity, sent her wincing into the café.

"You know I'm done with that. It's the drawings that I’m not sure whether I’m afraid for or afraid of at this point."

Your technical drawings professor was your own brand of a recurring nightmare for the last five years. Those in your class that struggled for good marks in all else, had flourished on his class. Where it was a constant, and disastrous, opposite for you. It was like your professor was out to fail you and he sought pleasure in your looks of panic and agitation whenever he hands back his score sheets to pinned on board. In front of the class, for everyone to see and assess the others’ marks in the process. He definitely loved, hearing your spiteful classmates, snicker at your apparent academic kryptonite.

"You know I can always help with few of them, if you'll allow me." You heard the resigned, sigh on the other side.

All you wanted to do was hurl something, any hard, heavy-duty piece of stationery on your desk, to the professor whenever he set foot in the studio. You were the best all-rounder in your class with the highest overall year mark. It was your practical work that had you in a depressive and nightmarish state up until you had to print and submit with the thoughts ‘At least, I have submitted… on time’.

That was all thanks to your lack of sleep and working three times as hard on the particular professor's work in order to just make to a 'C+' percentage. While all else were 'A's. All the while, you still refuse to hand over your work to your best friend, to help shoulder the load. After all everyone

else was doing it. Just not you.

"You still know my answer. With all the troubles, I need to do this myself." You sighed, shuffling with the line, pinching your nose at the aching head.

"Hey! half your class has lovers in the same program for that very reason, for them to complete their work for them. So come on, you can use me too."

"You being my lover, the image is scarring." You groaned with a small smile.

"Aish- and you’re missing the point." The other scolded.

You laughed at the proposal just as you sighed at how unfair the whole situation was in your class.

It was your will and drive to figure out all your troubles first than to reach out for help. It was never about pride. You chose to ignore the offer.

"Aigoo- deal with my rejection friend… although I love you, nonetheless."

Yourr rejection of the offer meant you will be once again be leaving your studio well after ten, in the evening, every night. How you have not been mugged at night, in the past half a decade, you did not understand how, but thanks powers at will. Your classmates, on the other hand have been, at some point dodged bullets or were mugged at gunpoint.

Some have even accused her of being in secret relationship with one mafia boss or another, that ruled your neighbourhood. Of course, those rumoured accusations were fuelled by your strict and unwavering stance of remaining in ‘Single-town’, even you may be sole occupant of the paper town.

Your friend was on the phone, just before she headed off to work at an interior design firm. You, on the other hand had opted to remain in university for your postgraduate studies in the same course of Interior Design. You and your friend knew you would always nail your research work.

That morning you had been one of the first at the students' trusted coffee shop, for those living away from campus and on the fringes of the city.

The rough and gang riddled parts you were not aware of just how dangerous it was; until five years ago when you bore witness to it. It did, however, not stop you from staying up until late at the studio, cajoling your computer to work with you when your laptop would have long given up from being over worked.

"Tell me, tell me... Is that barista standing in front of you right now?" suddenly squealed, the girl’s voice, startling you back to your surroundings.

Your friend had been crushing on the café’s barista since your first year. When she had first laid eyes on him, she was very appreciative of his bouncy hair that tickled the nape of his neck.

Now five years later, all that bounce has been reduced to a fierce bald cut. It was such a pity, you had to admitted. Your friend however was still lost on the rolled shirt sleeves, apron around his waist and the signature and rarest heart shaped smile.

"Can I get you something?" The barista leaned over the counter, as muted and sombre as your mood. At a closer look, your distorted reflection on the coffee maker behind the male figure, there were dark shadows under your eyes.

"An English tea to go..." you heard yourr friend tut in horror on the other side, at her cup being forgotten, "Oh! and an Americano for my friend."

The barista broke into a reluctant smirk, knowing and hearing your faux par, being corrected on the other side. He may also smile, knowing that you were his long-standing regular student patron. Lastly, he seemed to only indulge you, with your little game you play whenever you were on time when he is bringing out a tray of baked goods for the display.

Since the display changed from time to time, on your first visit, you had been bold enough to shout at the man to a halt with his back to you. You taken in the warm scents of what he had been carrying. You had wanted to guess the kind of pastry, before seeing it. That morning it was a crouquembougue tower, you could not afford a serving of it. It had nonetheless impressed the baker then barista, to continuing your guessing-game for four more years. It was an interaction; your friend marvelled at your boldness and it puzzled the patrons to no end.

The man always wore a scowl or a grim look, but his baritone voice was rather quiet and rich with life when he took orders. Inviting, yet still remained at a distance. It was like he knows many steps you took to reach him, that’s if he wanted you to make an advance toward is his direction, in the first place. Then he kept you at bay, while he decided what to make of you.

"Between us, you're the one with a better and steadier pay check, yet I'm the one covering our morning drinks." She scolded with no bite in her words.

"That's exactly right. You're the best and I will cover our evening drinks, as soon as you to agree to a night."

"Yeah, and all is now well, I guess."

Five times a week, while she gets one time at most to drag you for a night of unwinding and drinking your problems to oblivion.

"Give me five minutes and your order will be up." His deep voice, clear.

"Thanks." You offered your smile and money at the barista, which he faked his own as he passed the change.

Your friend did however help with being the ear to rant and complain to because that just about all she could do. Her response, was always, that since both of you didn't have partners, then who else are were you supposed to complain to if not your best friend.

"And of course, feed you. You have been losing so much weight. As much as you don't tell me of your stress, I can still see it wreck your curves to reveal the sharp angles of your collarbones."

"What do you have against collar bones?"

"Nothing. I'm the elder, even if I don't act like it. So, what I say goes and the curves I really envy are disappearing before my eyes."

You let out an exasperated sigh, safely rolling your eyes as you hoisted her laptop bag then backpacks.

Absently you looked around as the customers flinched and huddled away from the windows. To think of it, there were empty seats all along the windows in the packed cafè.

"Seriously, YN, they're shooting and gangbanging so early in the morning?"

"It's nothing I'm not use to," you drawled, "I guess they're doing overtime, from their night shift."

You knew of alleys and streets to avoid at certain times of the day and days of the week. As far as you were concerned, you were a person of zero interest.

The main mafia would have let the street gangs to leave the likes of you alone, since the only thing valuable with you was your laptop and they must see how much you depend on it, from how you cling to it whenever you walk to and from home.

"Okay, it seems I would have to send a food gift package to be delivered to your studio, since the weekend is too far to wait until then."

"You're only a month older than me, stop fussing like my grandmother." Your words had little bit, rolling your eyes to the heavens.

You were struggling to balance the shoulder strap of your sling bag, with the cupholder and your phone now tucked between your shoulder and ear.

You smiled your gratitude at the man who entered, but missed how distressed he cowered past you. Just before stepping onto the pavement, a man pelted past you, nearly knocking the hot averaged to your chest.

You jostled up and angled the laptop bag away from harm's way as you continued walking into the pavement. There, you would see your friend’s car drive down to give you a lift and have she can have her long awaited coffee drug.

"Don't step out the cafè just yet. Give me five minutes."

"Sorry, I'm already..." You apologetically crooned, pushing aside your friend's concerned nag.

Then the commotion around cafè seemed to turn the volume from mute, and mercilessly cranked up, adjusting your ears to the noise.

In the middle of the paving, deep and harsh cries rang in the morning hub bub of the deserted

street. A deserted Monday morning street meant a mafia war was still alive and hot. The street gangs’ runners were still not satisfied with the entire weekend's work. Your phone slipping from your shoulder, you reached for it just when the commotion and voices became distinct.

"If you're gonna shoot at me, have the guts to turn back around and shoot me!"

You turned to the disembodied voice, to your right but the fast-running foot steps, matching the running man you spotted whipping by the window, was to your left.

"Damnit, move out the way!" The man in a pinstriped suit jacket and all black, with blonde hair, barked at you.

Why did all seem to fast-forward and creep in slow motion at the very same time? The very same three-dimensional experience of the time and space that your professor had tried to explain and the class nearly failed to grasp the concept, loosely derived from one of Einstein's theories.

That is when your mind and body, shut down. On a standstill to all mental and physical processes. The man to your right bellowed, just as he lifted his hand to aim his gun at your direction. Looking past him, with wide eyes, nearly bulging from your sockets, thick black smoke rose of an expensive looking car that once was.

Your friend would be nowhere in sight, because all entry to the street you were on, would be blocked off upon making out the riotous inclement activity. The source of the riot, the target for the ambush, the owner of the burning car was the very man you were facing in horror.

The growing noise in your ears seemed to be coming from all direction, and all you do is cling to cup holder and your phone.

The cold cat-like eyes bore in the direction of your petrified state. He too brandished his own pistol and you were dead centre of the cross fire, that would come be in the next seconds.

The running man took that moment to fire first.

'Myorin take cover!'

You knew the bullet was meant for the other man with cat like eyes, but the man who had fired, seemed to have little care to have you as collateral.

Your thoughts registering this, you had taken half a step back, completely blocking the path of the cross fire . What possessed you to do so, you may never find out.

Two successive shots were fired, clear to your wringing ears. Your body gave a violent jolt, your coffee and tea cups whipping out of your flailing arm. A hot stinging sensation came on the back of your shoulder and another by your rib cage. Your bags suddenly weighed a ton as you toppled like a wall of bricks. Your inward groan was to the laptop bag your body had crashed onto.

Thinking and bracing for your head to follow and collide with the concrete pavement, the man with cat like eyes cradled your head as he knelt at your side.

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Feel free to comment, I wanna see your thoughts!

#kim minseok #xiumin #xiumin aesthetic #exo fanfic #exo xiumin #minseok #exo minseok #exo do #exo kyungsoo #exo do kyungsoo

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inviciousx · 3 years

Text

nuclear winter of our discontent

Fractured strips of moonlight shone down from the caving ceiling as Ryat started mixing several ingredients into a metal bowl he'd stolen from an old diner he'd passed on the way out here. Locals in the wastes called this the Old North Church. He called it a resurrection ground. His mind drifted as he added a bit of purified water into the mixture and pulled out his blade. Slashing it across his hand, he let a few drops of blood fall before he could feel it start healing. The demon couldn't help but replay the last twenty-four hours in his head. It had been more excitement than the last two centuries combined. Latin fell from his lips as his gaze moved over the pile of old bones laid over the debris in the floor. God he hoped he'd dug the right grave. As flesh began to form over bone, he began to hold even the tiniest bit of hope that be wouldn't be alone anymore.

She was waking. Not from a dream, but from darkness. Like Jesus saw daylight again on the third day, light was pouring in from behind her closed eyelids. She remembered, before her eyes ever opened: that awful flash, heat searing her skin, only time enough left to drop to her knees and cling to the soft grass one last time. She stirred, grunting softly, and blinked up into the sky. She inhaled softly. What she was was nothing like the fiery destruction that had knocked her out. It was silver and peaceful, quiet.

Caroline pushed an elbow under herself and began to rise, beginning to look around. The darkness surrounding her seemed to pop as her eyes adjusted from the moonlight pooling around her. There were shapes an figures, perhaps, but she could make out nothing specific. She sat up completely, wincing loudly and clutching her side in pain. Had she been knocked back into something in the blast? "Hello?" she called hoarsely.

Red eyes watched her from where Ryat sat in a dilapidating pew. It was one of few that was still being held together, probably by all the dirt and grime that covered it. Her resurrection had taken longer than most, but he supposed that had something to do with the fact that she'd been dead for 200 years. He really wasn't sure how he was going to explain that yet, but he knew he had to. She was going to be punished into a brand new world, a terrifying world... Just like he had been. It seemed like he had just traded one hell for another. At least now he had something other than his own thoughts, even before he had brought her back. Sitting there frozen, a captive to the body he had once enslaved hadn't done him any favors. "Morning sunshine. It's about time you woke the hell up," he muttered, finally getting back to his feet to move closer to her, stepping into the moonlight. "You're very.... Very late to the party."

The light in the hunter’s eyes brightened with confused realization as the demon’s voice purred through the darkness and echoed subtly off the walls. A sharp creak of wood made her head swivel, and, through the light of the moon, she found two red eyes peered back at her. Her heart slammed in her chest. “Ryat. .” she breathed, but offered nothing else, shifting slightly in the pile of rubble. She watched dumb-struck as he emerged into the circle of light. There should have been a million thoughts running through her mind, but it was empty, save for watching his face looking down at hers. She could barely read his expression, but what else was new? His eyes were shadowed but the irises glowed. He looked different, somehow, but still very much the same. Her face winced as she tried to process what he meant. It all. . . felt like a dream. “What’s going on?” she asked softly

Stooping down next to her, he sat with her in the rubble. He was already dirty, grime and filth covering his clothes. Not to mention blood.... "What do you remember?" He questioned, choosing his words uncharacteristically carefully. "I mean the very last thing you remember, because I need to know where to start explaining, and I don't have much time." Being what he was, he was able to see through the veil of death. He knew the difference between when he was dead and when he was alive, and he knew what happened in between, but he doubted that she had that luxury. Or maybe it was a curse.... He wasn't sure. A while caused crimson hues to look back at the black dog that laid guarding the door. Another whimper had him getting to his feet. "Come on. We need to move. I'll explain, but we need to get to higher ground. He wouldn't take her all the way up to the steeple yet, but he would at least hide them in the stairwell for now. Sitting here felt like being a sitting duck.

The hunter's eyes searched his face wildly for a hint of why he was asking such questions. The last thing she remembered? The last thing she remembered was everything, everything exploding and vanishing and then the sudden lack of everything. The emptiest nothing that she could conceive, and could still feel in her bones, as if she was hollow. Her hand seized on his arm like a snake."Ryat..." Caroline repeated, anxiety growing in her voice and heat swelling to her face. The urgency in his voice and the measured tone was making every hair on her body stick up like a pin prick. Ryat used her grip on him to hoist her up, but she collapsed to her knee, finding the legs underneath her shaking and uncoordinated. "Help me. Please." she asked of him, and braced herself around his middle. The black dog circled around them, but always stayed behind, unnaturally bright eyes glaring at the back of the building--if it could be called that. Half up the stairs, encased in near-darkness, and almost suffocating in dust, Caroline pushed against the demon and let herself sink to a stair. Her legs burned as if she'd been marooned in the desert. The hunter breathed heavily, dropping her hand from him to lean forward, taken by the vertigo in her brain. She looked up to what she could see in front of her face--shocking red eyes and a half-shadowed face looking down at her. "The last thing I remember. . ." Her face contorted at the memory, too painful for even tears. Her gaze searched for the words in the dust particles floating around them. "The last thing I remember is the. . ." The hunter blinked faster, as if the emotions that had been stopped where her memories ended were picking up as she remembered ten seconds over and over again in her mind. The more she remembered, the more the monstrous sounds came back to her. "Oh, God. Oh, God." she whispered. She looked back at Ryat, pleading, reaching out to a hand she couldn't see in the dark. "What's happening? Why am I here?”

The fear and fragility coming from the normally quick witted hunter only added to the gravity of the situation. Even with his superior hearing, Ryat wasn't sure what was waiting for them outside. There were things in this hellacious landscape that put the creatures of nightmares to shame. The large Shepherd Dog sat at the bottom of the stairs, ears twitching with each sound, though he wasn't sounding an alarm again yet. He knew she remembered the end. Her reaction told him at least that much. "What you remember.... That's what a lot of people called the end of the world. As you can see that isn't exactly accurate...." He still picked and chose his words, knowing that the smallest thing could be like a detonator, and right now he didn't have the luxury of having the time to help stitch her back together. At least mentally. "It was damn close though....and that was 200 years ago. The world you knew, hell the world we both knew, is gone. There are things even you can't imagine. Whole damn world went to hell in a hand basket." The air here was too thick with dust and the smell of mold from the nuclear storms that passed settling into the interior of the building. Reaching into his pack once he slipped it off his shoulder, he found a stimpack. "I don't know how much this is gonna help, but it should do something," he stated evenly before injecting her with the medicine inside.

Caroline lower lip trembled fiercely as he spoke, but he brows were set in desperate refusal. His words were gathering like a holy flood at the levies, and she bit her lip, shaking her head. The end of the world. The end of the world. The end of the world. Pictures flashed in her mind as rapidly as film ticking through a camera. Home. People. Friends. Life. Gone. . . “Please stop.” she said quietly, squeezing his hand as it released hers to shuffle inside some backpack. The pinch in her arm barely registered past the screaming her in own head. Voices, like a hundred-strong choir was screaming through their murder in her ears. “Stop!” she screamed through it, bracing her hands on the edge of the step and kicking out sharply at his leg. Something connected and she scrambled up and away, spilling onto the landing and throwing herself towards the next set of stairs. It only look another flight to reach the top, which spilled out into a windowed perch with half the wall broken out. Caroline gasped and looked around wildly. A thin layer of snow was coating the rooftops in her sights, but it all blurred together. Steps were right behind her as she made for the roof.

A hiss of pain left the demon's lips even if it wouldn't last long. "You God damn bitch!" He growled, moving after her with speed only a creature such as himself could possess. Maybe the stimpack had been a bad idea.... He'd thought it would do good to help her feel better and give her some mobility. The dog let out a bark at the sudden outburst and Ryat took off after her trying to ignore the pain in his shin. Snow glittered on the roof as it came into his view and his arm shot out, grabbing her ankle as she tried to scramble to the sloped, rotting roof. From his place on the stairs, he roughly tugged her back, not giving a single shit if he caused a few bruises on the way down. "What the fuck?" He grit, red eyes seeming to look through her as he appraised her. "I didn't spend the last twenty four hours gathering the shit to bring you back to let you toss yourself off a god damn steeple!" His grip on her ankle released only to grab her by the arm and pull her up to her feet, but this time he held her steady.

Caroline yelped and slammed to the ground hard as her feet were wrenched from beneath her. Her vision turned into a dropped snowglobe for a brief moment as he torso landed on the raised ledge were a wall should've been, half of body on the roof, half still inside the tower. All she could manage was a strangled grunt of resistance as she was pulled back over the threshold, icy flakes stinging her face. She lost herself in a flurry of kicks and palm-thrusts into Ryat's shoulders, but it was a charade for all the good it did. The young woman gasped as she was forced to stand, and, wrangled in his unquestionable grip, she looked at him wildly. His dark, hidden face from before now reflected so much silver light it was like he was glowing. His raven hair was tussled from the skirmish and blew slightly in the wind whistling through the broken windows around them. Caroline breathed hard, small fogs of hot breath crystalizing between them. Her eyes were stricken, but clearer, as if the truth was easier to see in the moonlight. "You brought me back?" She paused, forgetting to breathe. "I. . died?" The last word was barely a breath.

@a-beast-in-repose

#ryat;#nuclear winter;

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

Turning Pages (Kol Mikaelson imagine)

Request by @scallisonbaby : Could you write an imagine for Kol, she’s the daughter of one of his main enemies, she tried to keep it a secret but he finds out and klaus tries to kill her saying she’s probably spying on us but Kol proctects the reader.

Words: 2858 words

A/N: this doesn’t follow the chronology or history of the show. Kinda felt inspired, this is long

Y/N knew she was screwed the moment she saw him. The brown eyes, disheveled hair, handsome smile and smartass attitude, not to mention this british accent that could make her swoon. Yes, Kol Mikaleson really was her weakness. She suspected he knew it and played with it anytime he could. She hadn’t known the Mikaelsons for long but had helped them countless times.

Several years ago, before the family came back to New Orleans, she had come to seek shelter. Her path had crossed Marcel’s. He had come to her rescue before some vampire could kill her one night and she confided a whole part of her story she wished she could forget to him. She had expected him to ask her to leave and never come back to his city, but instead, he had agreed to help and hide her.

Ever since, she had kept that secret and had sworn no one would ever find out. Before New Orleans, she had another life, another name. A one she despised more than anything with a man she no longer considered family. She’d learn of his implication with Klaus himself later on when the man she had succeeded to avoid for years came back, hellbent on revenge against the Mikaelsons.

« How exactly do you think this is gonna go when they’ll find out ? » Marcel asked her, handing her a bottle of beer.

She sighed. Sitting on the couch in his living room, her feet crossed on the table, she took the beverage and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

« I think Kol is gonna kill me » She answered.

« Kol isn’t the brother you should be worried about »

She gave him a side look and pursed her lips before taking a sip from her bottle.

« Family’s a real bitch sometimes, huh ? » She half heartedly joked.

« He’s not your family, not anymore. Not since you came to New Orleans »

She smiled at her friend.

« But your father has become powerful enough to kill an original over the past couple of weeks and you know he’s gonna try to destroy them »

Again, she sighed.

« What am I suppose to do ? »

« I know you don’t want to see him, but you might just be the only one who can stop him »

« Do you really think he’ll listen to me ? After all I’ve told you ? »

« Lucien is … well … complicated, but not beyond reason »

She chuckled.

« Complicated ? Is that your definition of psychotic maniac killer ? »

Marcel stood up then turned to the girl, offering her his hand.

« You owe it to yourself to at least try »

She rolled her eyes.

« Damn you and your moral Marcel » She muttered, taking his hand and getting up.

With a heavy heart, she let him take her to the compound. So far as she could remember, she always had felt scared of her father. When she was a child, often she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her heart would race at the simplest sound of his feet approaching. Countless times she cried herself to sleep, hoping he wouldn’t hear, otherwise he’d come to show her what it was to be strong and not weak, as he would put it.

Marcel took her to the French Quarter, knowing whatever Klaus was planning, it was certainly to lure Lucien into the compound. He wasn’t wrong. The moment they step foot inside the Mikaelson’s mansion, one of them was already flying across the room, landing with a loud noise on the staircase. The vampire she had once known as her father was standing in front of Niklaus as his brother got back on his feet.

« You should’ve ran while you still could » Klaus threatened him.

« And miss an opportunity to kill you ? » Lucien laughed.

Klaus grinned, taking a step back. He silently nodded at his sister Freya. She instantly started chanting ancient words, a grimoire in one hand, the other raised in defense against him. In a matter of seconds, Lucien was on the ground, screaming in pain.

All this time, Y/N stayed behind Marcel. It was her way to shield herself from him. No one except Kol acknowledged their presence. Instinctively, after a quick look at her, he put himself in front of her. For a moment she thought it was to allow his brothers to attack, but when she felt his hand clasped around hers, she knew he was trying to protect her from the fight to come.

Suddenly, almost as quick as it started, her father stopped screaming and laughed. She’d recognize that evil, wicked sound anywhere.

« Did you really think this would work ? » Lucien proudly stated, standing up.

Freya took a step back, glancing at Klaus. Whatever spell they had planned, it wasn’t working on him. They all looked tense when he casually crossed the magic border around him with ease.

« Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? » He grinned.

The Mikaelsons spun in a defensive stance. Elijah launched himself first and made Lucien fall, but the vampire was quick to get back on his feet. Klaus used his speed to attack but the other creature anticipated his move and threw him against a wall. Angry, he got back up, breaking a chair and stabbed him with it. Lucien took the weapon out of his chest and Elijah used this distraction to get behind him and try to strike. It was no use. The other vampire turned before he could do anything and grabbed his arm, breaking it in the process. Seeing his brother struggling, Kol glanced behind him at Y/N before rushing to help him.

« Don’t move » He warned her.

He squeezed her hand one last time and ran to Lucien, punching him and making him lose his grip on his brother. Y/N watched in horror her worst nightmare happening. Soon, Marcel joined the fight and the violent dance started against the vampires. Her breath suddenly got caught in her lungs when she saw her father twist Kol’s arm, making his knees hit the floor. When Elijah and Klaus tried to get closer, he pulled harder on his shoulder. Kol winced in pain and his brothers stopped dead in their tracks.

When Y/N saw her father’s fangs retracting and the black veins running on his face, she swore her heart stopped beating. Right then, out of pure fear for the man she loved, she deciding she could no longer stay back.

« Enough! » She yelled.

His mouth wide opened, close to Kol’s arm, he looked up at her and smirked. For a moment it all sounded quiet. Everyone was completely still and no one moved over the silence of the room. The invisible tension was almost palpable as she took a tentative step toward him.

« Let him go » She told him, her voice quivering.

Still wearing that god awful smile, he looked back at her, pleased by her intervention.

« Stay back, Y/N » Kol warned her before, worried she would try to come closer.

She stopped in her track. As she looked around the room, she could see the questioning stares around her and she knew this moment would change everything, but she couldn’t let him hurt this family.

« Please … stop » She whispered, her eyes watery.

« Why would I ? » He darkly chuckled.

« Because I’m asking you »

Her lips quivered as she forced herself to take a breath.

« Y/N, step back. He is dangerous » Elijah advised her.

Lucien let out a sinister chuckle, raising an eyebrow.

« They don’t know, do they ? »

She pursed her lips, silently answering his question. Once again he loudly laughed, finding the situation amusing.

« Marvelous ! »

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Klaus started to put the puzzle into pieces. She was screwed and she knew it.

« I’ll come back if you let them go » She offered, ignoring Kol gaze on her.

He bitterly smirked.

« You chose your side when you fled my home, Y/N. And for that you will die too »

He tightened his hold on the vampire beneath him when he started to fight back at his words.

« And your pathetic lover with it » He spitted.

« You left me no other choices ! »

« You were supposed to rule by my side! » He screamed. « You were suppose to defeat the Mikaelsons with me ! »

« Those were your plans, not mine » She cried.

Again, she saw his fangs retracting and she felt the fear growing in the pit of her stomach.

« I’ll teach you what happens when you betray your own father, Y/N ! »

This was it. They finally knew. She saw each Mikaelsons widened their eyes in surprise. Marcel took a defensive step toward her when she noticed Klaus starting to shift, angry. What hurt her the most was the way Kol stared back at her. His jaw tightened, his fist clenched, he looked betrayed and it broke her heart. Before any of them could process the news or react, she watched her father plugged his fangs into the arm of the man she loved, making him scream in agony.

« No! » She shouted, running to them in a vain effort to save him.

Before she could even reach Kol, she felt her body being pushed and her back violently smacking a wall. The force of the impact made her close her eyes just for a second but when she opened them back, she noticed her father had fled. Ignoring the physical pain she felt, she tried to stand up.

« I’ll kill you! » She heard Klaus yelled at her.

He reached her at an impressive speed, clasping his hands around her neck. With all the power he could, he strangled her, and the girl was no match against Klaus Mikaelson. Marcel was quick to come to her rescue and threw the vampire attacking her across the room.

All Y/N could focus on was Kol cries. The man was on the ground, Freya and Elijah by his side, fighting an invisible force trying to kill him, fighting a fate brought by her father. He screamed in agony as his brother tried to hold him still while their witch sister had already started to gather ingredients for a spell.

« We don’t have long » She told them.

« Why are you protecting her ?! » Klaus shouted to Marcel. « That wicked woman lied to us! »

« She had no choice, Klaus! »

« So you knew ! You knew she was a spy send to destroy my family and you said nothing! »

« She’s not with him ! »

« Do I care about terminology ?! He is her father ! »

Elijah watched Y/N as she tightly shut her eyes at his brother’s words.

« Enough, Niklaus! » He shouted at his brother. « This is not the place, nor the time »

Kol was still restless on the ground, the spasms making it harder for Elijah to hold him still. His skin had started to become sickly pale. Y/N stared at him, a few feet away. Never had she felt so guilty and ashamed. She could see his misery and knew the mere sight of it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

« Freya, do something ! » Klaus urged her when his brother stared to violently shake.

« I’m trying ! » She responded.

She quickly gathered everything she needed around her, working as fast as she could.

« I’m gonna need Lucien’s blood » She informed them.

The brothers shared a look. They knew wherever the man was, they wouldn’t reach him in time.

« Would … would mine work ? » Y/N softly suggested.

« Yes »

« You’re not coming anywhere near him! » The hybrid shouted back.

« Niklaus, let the woman help! » Elijah answered him.

He nodded at her and she almost ran to Freya, offering her arm to her. She winced when the witch cut her skin but her eyes never left Kol. Freya finished her spell and mixed all her ingredients, adding Y/N’s blood then handed a cup to Elijah. He brought it to his brother’s mouth, forcing him to drink. The girl waited by his side, anxious. She hadn’t noticed the tears on her face, nor her hands trembling. She let out a breath of relief when she saw the man stopped shivering.

« Leave, now » Klaus firmly ordered.

« Are you serious ? She just saved your brother! » Marcel warned him.

« It’s … it’s alright, I’ll go »

She stood up, shaking with emotions, ready to collapse in tears, and walked to the door. She took a look back, needing to make sure he was alive.

« He’s gonna be alright » Elijah reassured her.

She nodded, glad he at least wasn’t showing any sign of anger toward her then glanced one last time at Niklaus.

« You and I share one thing in commun, we didn’t choose to have a crappy father. I thought you of all people would’ve understood that »

He pursed his lips, holding himself back from answering.

« I’ll leave New Orleans tomorrow » She told them. « I’ll try to draw him out of the city »

« You don’t need to go » Marcel told her.

« Just … tell him I’m sorry, okay ? » She asked, looking one last time at Kol.

Marcel sadly nodded at the girl before she disappeared. For a while, she just wandered around the streets, enjoying the eery atmosphere of New Orleans one last time before going home and packing.

Leaning over the balcony of her home later that night, she stared at the life still roaring so late in the city. A man on the street was playing the sax while some people danced to it. She could hear the noise from Rousseau’s, the laugh, the music, the chatter. Bourbon street and its live music and vibrant people felt so alive and inviting, a chaotic contrast to what she was feeling. Time seemed to slow as she tried to photograph this memory, a keepsake to give her strength in the rough times she knew would come against her father. She felt a sudden gush of air behind her and shivered, knowing what it was before he even spoke.

« Were you really expecting me to let you go that easily, love ? »

She closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. All the noises around her disappeared. All she could hear was the loud silence and his heavy presence. She tensed when she felt him take a step closer, scared he might say something that would definitely hurt her.

« Kol… » She whispered.

« Why ? » He simply asked.

She pursed her lips, trying to come up with an answer that would be enough to make him understand.

« I was scared »

« Of what ?! »

« My father has done terrible things »

He grabbed her wrist, making her sharply turned to face him.

« Y/N, have you seen my family ? » He argued. « Did you think I would judge you ? Do you think so low of me ? »

« Are you alright ? » She suddenly asked, not acknowledging any of his questions, her eyes scanning his body for any sign of injury.

« What ? »

He seemed lost for a moment.

« Your wound » She explained. « Has it healed ? »

« That’s beside the point, Y/N »

« You almost died because of me »

« Because of him » He corrected her.

In a second he was in front of her and entangled his hand in her hair, his thumb softly stroking her cheek.

« Why, Y/N ? » He asked in a whisper, his eyes pouring into hers.

She felt small under his gaze, unarmed and vulnerable.

« I didn’t want to remember » She admitted. « I just wanted to forget him, forget he existed, forget the years of … »

She stopped herself and he knew why. He didn’t need her to say it to know Lucien had hurt her, badly.

« I didn’t think I’d see him again » She kept going, a lump forming in her throat. « I thought I was free, Kol »

She starred right back at him, a sob escaping her throat.

« I thought I was finally free » She told him, her shoulders shaking with every word.

He dragged her to him, squeezing her as she melt down in his arms. It was more than crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. He felt her sank to her knees before she could touch the ground and tightened his hold of her. He waited patiently until she was calm enough to take a step back.

« There’s no way I’m letting you leave the city, Y/N »

« I have to make him go. Besides, your brother will have be beheaded if I don’t disappear »

« The hell with Niklaus, he can go fuck himself for all I care »

She rolled her eyes at him.

« I’m not letting you go » He vehemently stated, cupping her cheeks.

« He’ll come back for you. All of you » She muttered.

« Well good. We’ll be waiting for him »

« Kol … »

« Mark my words, Y/N ; I am NOT letting you go » He repeated.

He leaned into her and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then softly, her lips.

« I can’t let him get to you » She confessed.

« And I can’t let you go near him. This is a dead end, love, and you’re not winning this argument »

She chuckled.

« I really thought I’d lost you for a moment »

He smirked.

« Never. You’re stuck with me for an eternity »

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson fanfiction #kol mikaelson imagines #kol mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

first kiss on bucky's 17th birthday

Bucky started it but it was an accident, and steve just kissed him back

OKAY SO this totally inspired me but i changed up the thought a bit and it ended up being bucky's 21 birthday adkjflaksdjflaksjflk

anyway here's a fic

warnings: alcohol consumption, a very brief allusion to child abuse-- nothing graphic or detailed

Lips Lined with Whiskey

The bottle feels weighted in Steve’s hands, wrapped in newspaper and secured with old twine he’d found in his ma’s closet, her things still as untouched as the day she’d left for the hospital. He’d been reluctant to meddle with the space, but two years since her passing meant it was about time Steve ought to be using some of the practical things she’d kept around, if only to not let it go to waste. Crumple in the back of her closet and turn to dust, cursed to slip through Steve’s fingers like the rest of her.

Besides, he thinks she’d approve of the way he’d artfully tied the twine around the neck of the bottle, painted dark green and lending the illusion of vines drifting down over a small picnic scene he’d painted on the newspaper. She’d always been one for artfully crafted gifts and he knows she would have wanted this for Bucky, too. Because it’s not every day your best pal turns 21, and steve had paid a pretty penny-- an entire two weeks savings-- to get Mrs. McConnell down the hall to buy this bottle of Gilbey’s.

He rounds the corner onto their street in Brooklyn Heights, feet and back aching from a full day of work and his detour afterwards to pick up the whiskey and wrap it. The straps on his back brace are finicky, but he really should start wearing it again. Maybe he’ll ask Bucky to take a look at them when it’s not his birthday.

It stunk that he couldn’t spend the whole day with Bucky on his 21st, but he hadn’t been able to get the day off. Either way, Bucky had gone out with a few of their pals from school, then to a bar with a couple of his work friends, so Steve’s sufficiently convinced he wasn’t lonely. He takes the stairs, going slow so his back doesn’t protest much further, and tries to gear himself up for a night of drinking. It’s not like they hadn’t gotten drunk together before, but there was something inherently thrilling about doing it for an occasion, and not because Bucky was able to jack some of his father’s liquor on one of their weekly dinners home.

Bucky is back from his celebrations when Steve gets through the door and he looks up at Steve, midway through pulling off his tie. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone and his belt is hanging out of the loops of his trousers. His hair sticks up in disarray where it was evidently pulled at and Steve’s gaze immediately finds the hickey on his collarbone.

Smirking, he says, “Looks like you had a happy birthday.”

Bucky laughs, full and bright, and it’s enough to make Steve’s stomach flip. He’s grown used to breathing through these moments of desire and spares a moment to thank god that he isn’t the jealous type. He’d much rather let his heart soar with Bucky’s laugh than let it sink at the sight of a hickey. Who wouldn’t want a piece of Bucky Barnes? Besides, it’s not like Steve hasn’t sucked dick in the bathrooms of the local queer bars Bucky doesn’t know he goes to, so it’s only fair he grants Bucky the same benefit.

“It was fine,” Bucky says, still grinning. He’s shed his tie completely now and is in the process of shucking off his trousers, hanging that and his shirt on the back of his desk chair. Only in his undergarments now, he slumps down on the edge of his bed and it’s then that Steve notices he’s drunk already. Of course he is. Why hadn't Steve considered that? Oh well, he can catch up, or something. “Got three shots in with the guys, then Lizzy Williams was yanking me out the back door. Gave me an epic suckjob. Think I still got lipstick on my dick.”

Steve’s eyebrows climb up. “Lizzy Williams? From high school?”

“Yup,” Bucky says, slumping back on his bed. He’s half hard in his shorts and his skin is flushed with intoxication. It’s nothing Steve hasn’t seen before, but god, he wants to touch him. He wants to take him out of his shorts and take him deeper than Lizzy Williams had, suck right past that lipstick stain. His own dick twitches and he clenches his jaw, looking away. “She was there with some of her girlfriends, I don’t really remember.”

Steve smiles and sets the bottle gently on their table, working to shed his own clothes.

“Well it sounds like you had a lot of fun,” he says, stripping down to his own shorts and socks.

Bucky hums. “Still wish you coulda come, though.”

Steve’s chest pangs. It’s moments like these where he has to reconcile the fact that Bucky still makes him feel special-- that he could have chosen any best friend out there, and he chose him.

“Me too,” he says. He picks back up the bottle and goes to sit on Bucky’s bed, wincing as his spine creaks when he sits. “But we can celebrate together now. Sit your ass up, I got you a present.”

“Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have,” Bucky teases. It feels like a punch to the gut.

Steve pinches his thigh. “Come on, you lug.”

“Alright, alright.” Bucky sits up, swaying a little until his bicep is flush with Steve’s. “Whatcha got for me?”

“Happy birthday!” Steve exclaims, handing Bucky the bottle.

Bucky takes it, eyebrows quirking up, before his expression morphs into wonder, then something distinctively softer as he takes in the painting. He runs his thumb over the scene, stopping on the two little boys in the picture-- one blond, one brunet. With them is a woman with brown curls and a younger girl with chestnut hair and a pretty pink dress.

“That was my seventh birthday,” he murmurs.

Steve nods. “First one I spent with you.”

Mrs. Barnes had taken them for a picnic in Prospect Park. It had been the first birthday celebration Steve had been invited to and felt like he actually belonged. They’d shared a whole loaf of bread and cheese and tossed grapes into each other’s mouths, making a competition over who could catch the most.

Bucky looks up at Steve, eyes swimming. He’s always been an emotional drunk.

“Stevie, this is--” he shakes his head, wiping clumsily at an eye as he reaches out to pull Steve into a one armed up. Steve goes willingly, face smashing against his shoulder. The angle hurts his lower back, but he stays put and hugs Bucky back. “God, you’re so talented and just-- such a good pal. You’re my best pal ever.”

He presses a sloppy kiss to the top of Steve’s head and Steve laughs, blushing hard and trying to ignore that. He reasons that Bucky’s just extremely affectionate.

“That ain’t even your real present,” he says, gesturing to the package.

“May as well be,” Bucky mumbles, then shoves the bottle back into Steve’s hand. “You open it. I don’t trust myself not to mess up the painting.”

“Sure,” Steve says, and carefully undoes the twine, worried about breaking that, too. He lays the bottle across his lap and eases the newspaper off, making sure to smooth it out afterwards so the painting is more visible. Bucky takes it and sets it on his bedside table.

“I’ll hang that later,” he says, probably to himself. Steve passes him the bottle.

“Happy birthday,” he says again, and Bucky groans, taking it.

“Aw, hell, this is the good stuff,” he bemoans. “Fuck, if I’d known we were gonna have this, I wouldn’t have gotten proper drunk. Shit, how much did that cost you?”

“Don’t matter,” Steve says, eyes twinkling. He’s glad Bucky likes it, even if he’s got a funny way of saying so.

Bucky glares at the bottle, then determinately pops the cap. He wafts it and pulls a face. Steve can smell it from where he’s sitting. It’s really strong stuff, apparently.

“Fuck it,” Bucky says and stands to get two glasses. “I’m having one shot, then you’re catching up and hiding the bottle. Got it?”

Steve nods, mock saluting. “Got it.”

Bucky salutes back with a glass in hand, then motions for Steve to hand him the bottle. He pours them each two fingers of whiskey. Steve takes the glass closest to him, then holds it up.

“Cheers,” he says. “To you being officially an old man.”

Bucky grins. “You’ll get there soon, kid.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve says, because he’ll be twenty in four months and he really isn’t that much younger than Bucky.

They grin at each other, then take the shots, hissing as it burns their throats. Steve feels it settle in his chest, somewhere in his sternum, and he grins. It won’t take much for him to be where Bucky is.

“Shit, that’s good,” Bucky says, dazed eyes wide and serious.

Steve snorts and takes the bottle, pouring himself another two fingers. “And you’re not having anymore tonight,” he says, and downs the next shot.

A half hour later, they’re laying on Bucky’s bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s spinning and Steve tries to follow it with his eyes, which just makes him more dizzy. Idly, he clacks his teeth together. They’re tingling.

“I’m so drunk,” he says, needlessly.

“Mmm, me too,” Bucky hums.

Steve lolls his head to look at him, studying his profile-- his strong jaw and sweaty hair that’s too long and curling behind his ear. His hand seems to move on autopilot as he reaches out to tug at a curl. Bucky looks at him and smiles.

“Was she good?” Steve finds himself asking. At Bucky’s confused expression, he elaborates. “Lizzy Williams. Was she good at sucking you off?”

Bucky shrugs. “She was fine. Why? You want her to suck you?”

Steve shakes his head, fingers still playing with the hair behind Bucky’s ear. He chocks it up to inebriation that Bucky isn’t pushing him away.

“Nah, not my thing,” he says, before he can think about it.

Bucky frowns. “What is your thing then?”

Steve shrugs. “Rather be the one sucking than being sucked.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and it’s then that Steve realizes what he’s saying-- what he’s telling Bucky while his hands are on his skin, while they’re close to each other in nothing but their boxers. Close. In the same bed.

He freezes, eyes going wide as well.

“Shit, Buck, I-- forget I said that. Dunno why I told you that,” he says, voice slurring as he pulls away. He starts to sit up, heart slamming in his chest. Stupid. He’s stupid. Why did he tell Bucky that? “Fuck, sorry, I’ll just--”

He’s halfway off the bed when he feels a hand close around his wrist. He stops moving, his breathing loud in the quiet space. He doesn’t dare look at Bucky.

“Steve,” Bucky says, and he sounds more sober than he did two minutes ago. “Do you mean that?”

Steve grits his teeth and doesn’t say anything.

“Steve,” Bucky says again, more imploring. “Are you-- is this-- you’re queer?”

“Is that a problem?” Steve snaps, even though he knows he is. He knows it’s wrong, and that his father was right-- he really is some little fairy.

But then he’s being gently pulled back, turned around, and when Bucky tugs him to sit back on the bed, there’s no vitriol in his gaze. Steve looks at him through a wall of unshed tears and prays that there’s no catch. That he’s not about to be hit. He never wanted to be hit by a drunk man again.

Bucky shakes his head and reaches up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing away a tear that’s fallen. “Breathe,” he murmurs, and Steve realizes his chest is tight. He pulls in a desperate breath. “How long have you known?”

How long has he-- oh.

“My whole damn life,” he whispers.

Bucky nods. “Me too,” he whispers back and Steve gasps, hand flying up to cover the hand on his cheek.

“Buck?”

“Wasn’t sure, but then I laid my eyes on you and I knew. I knew.”

And Steve’s world feels like it’s screeching to a halt, ears ringing as he latches onto Bucky’s gaze.

“Me? But, Buck you-- all those girls and--”

Bucky shrugs and he looks nervous now, dropping his hand to his lap. “I like girls, too. That wasn’t a lie or-- or a cover. I just-- I like both? Fellas and girls and-- mostly you. Just… never knew how to, you know. Or if it was even safe and sometimes you’d look at me a certain way and think maybe, but… but then I always thought it was my imagination.” He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Even now, I’m jumping to assumptions you’re queer for me. It’s dumb.”

I’m too drunk for this, Steve thinks vaguely.

“Not dumb,” Steve mumbles, reaching out for Bucky’s hand. “Had eyes for you before I even knew what it meant to notice someone.”

Bucky swallows, lifting his gaze. There’s a weight between them that feels terrifying and whole. Steve revels in it, leans into the feeling, and laces their fingers together.

“I want to kiss you,” Bucky says.

“I want that, too,” Steve breathes, then shakes his head. “But not-- we’re drunk. I don’t want to while we’re drunk.”

Bucky’s face falls for a moment, but he nods. “Can I hold you then?”

Steve answers by moving into Bucky’s lap, straddling him in a way that could be heated, but turns soft and sweet the moment Bucky cups the back of his head and carefully kisses his cheek-- unassuming. Not a sealed deal yet. And when they fall asleep, the alcohol pulling them under an indiscernible amount of time later, Steve feels warm where their chests meet.

When he wakes, the first thing Steve notices is that he’s hungover, cotton on his tongue and head steadily throbbing. The second thing he notices is that he’s in Bucky’s bed and there’s a weight behind him-- warm and heavy-- and oh fuck. Oh fuck.

The night before comes flooding back. The whiskey, the talk of Lizzy Williams and suck jobs, the admissions that Steve remembers clearly despite the alcohol. He scrambles to turn around, terrified for a moment that he was remembering it wrong and Bucky will be gone, or change his mind or--

Fingers catch under his chin, a thumb smoothing back to soothe his jaw. He sucks in a breath instinctively and looks up at Bucky, who is already awake, propped on an elbow and looking down at him.

“You sober?” he asks, an easy smile on his face. Steve can see the tightness of his eyes, though. The fear.

He nods, words evading him.

Bucky thumbs over his lip. “May I?”

With all the willpower he can muster, Steve manages to breathe, “Yes.”

And then they’re kissing, a quiet fanfare that turns into flickering sparks as they sink into each other. It’s nothing like Steve imagined and everything he thought heaven would be. Warm and whole and utterly safe.

He reaches up to cup Bucky’s jaw in turn and moves to lay over him, bearing down with his heart and soul as the kiss deepens. Unknowns fill the space around them, but as Bucky’s arms wind around his back, pulling him close, he knows it will be okay. They’ll be okay.

Tilting his head, Steve takes a step off the edge, knowing Bucky will take the freefall with him.

thanks for reading y'all!

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky fic #this prob has typos i didnt read it over #forgive me

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kerie-prince · 3 years

Text

We're Worlds Apart (7)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: none (other than blaise being jealous)

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: my workplace is under construction and i'm stressed bc i have to work around all the rubbish and it makes me stay longer when i wanna come home and write 😭 anyways, this is unedited so i'll come back to it after i clock off tonight

(gif cred)

Being friends with you was kind of weird. Draco couldn't really tell you about his day because it consisted of magic nearly the entire time. He’s also at work for almost the entire week, so he wasn't really at home much.

Except for now. Draco finally had twelve days off to spend with his best mates. He had been so caught up with the chaos that surrounded him at work that he wasn't able to plan any sightseeing activities to do with them, so he just let them pick whatever it was they wanted to do.

“I could always ask Y/N what to do,” Blaise suggested. Yes, Draco hadn't forgotten the small fling between you and his best mate. Blaise would go over to your house at least three nights a week while Draco stayed overnight at Santa Marie's. Theo didn't mind being by himself and was grateful that the guest bedroom was farthest from your bedroom window. Draco was also grateful that he chose to go on nights he wasn't home; he didn't need to hear you two throughout the night.

Now that a hatchet was somewhat buried, Draco thought that asking you was a good idea. He nodded his head and headed for the door. Blaise also got up, but the both of them stopped when their hands nearly collided on the door knob. “Oh, did you want to ask her?” Blaise questioned.

“Uh… no you go. She's your…” Draco paused, “You go ahead.” Blaise gave him a weird look before walking out the door and headed to your house. Theo watched the whole thing and waited to start laughing at Draco. He glared at Nott and spat out, “What are you laughing at?”

“What was that?” Theo held his stomach as he caught his breath. “Did you want to talk to her?” Draco didn't appreciate whatever his friend was trying to say. It's just a bloody question. He sat down on the couch and picked up the Daily Prophet from Theo’s hands. He wasn't surprised to find Harry Potter in it, a column about his recent marriage with Weasley’s sister. He was surprised that they hadn't gotten married sooner.

“Do you think it's weird that Blaise is dating a muggle?” Theo asked. His face was neutral, but his tone was suggestive. Draco internalized the question. On one hand, it didn't really disturb him all that much. He was confused as to whether or not you were his girlfriend, but Blaise doesn't really talk about you too much. On another hand, he knew Blaise and even though you annoyed him – or did you? – he always took pity on any girl that mixed with Blaise. Draco didn't know what Blaise would do, but it was enough to get anyone on their knees for him in more ways than one.

“I don’t care who or what he dates,” Draco stated. Theo went to minding his business, until something caught his attention from outside. “Oh Salazar, what is he doing?” Theo’s voice was filled with amusement. Draco turned from his sitting position and saw what was happening.

Blaise was fully making out with you right on your porch. Out where anyone could watch. One of his hands were tangled in your hair while the other one was resting gently on your waist. Your hands rested shyly on his shoulders and it looked as if you were on your toes just to reach up to his height. The kiss was slow and sensual.

It was exactly what Draco needed to see. Because from that, he felt nothing at all. Just a gross feeling that he was potentially invading someone's privacy. Sure, they were outside but it still felt weird. Draco wasn't one to enjoy public displays of affection.

“Wow, he’s really milking it out. You reckon he asked her about sight-seeing?” Theo kept observing them from the window. Draco hit his head with the newspaper rolled up. Theo laughed and turned to look at the blond man next to him. “How come you’re not with anyone?”

“With where I work, do you honestly think I have time to find someone?” Draco sassed as he continued reading. Dating was the last thing on his mind. He was too focused on work to even flirt with another woman. Pansy was the last person Draco had ever dated. He was meant to be betrothed to Astoria Greengrass, but Draco declined and started his path to becoming a healer. He also didn't want to be in a marriage knowing he couldn't genuinely love her.

Moving to America, he never found anyone interesting. Ashley was nice but not only was she already married, she was married to a woman. Other women in the department, or hospital as a whole, took an initial liking to Draco, but he figured it was solely due to the fact that he’s a foreign British man with an accent. After a month of women flirting with him, it died down almost completely and everyone treated him as normal which pretty much confirmed it to him. Would Draco like to date someone? Absolutely. But right now, he was perfectly happy being by himself.

Theo knew Draco enough to know when he was fibbing and this wasn't one of those times. He was glad to see Draco be okay with himself after all this time. He remembers the constant need of validation during their days at Hogwarts. And it was because of a certain wizard who Draco was always competing with. Now as for Theo, he had been out of the dating scene for a while and he was nearly desperate to get laid.

He dropped the topic and got up to take a short nap in the guest room. A few moments later, Blaise was knocking on the door. Draco got up to open it and was caught by surprise to see you standing behind Blaise. You looked like you weren't really sure what you were doing there either. “Mate,” Blaise started off, “what if we brought her along with us?”

You blinked at the tall man standing in front of you and then looked at Draco who had the same facial expression. “Who else better to show us around than someone who actually lives here?” Blaise suggested. It made sense; you would know your way around and Draco could save himself the trouble of not only Blaise and Theo being lost, but also Draco also getting lost. He still had a hard time with some of the streets. One-way streets, round-a-bouts, and bike lanes were still new to him. And you once mentioned how Manhattan was worse than the streets here in Buffalo, so how would he deal with that?

You stood unusually quiet. Blaise had only just asked you to tag along with them and before you could even process the question, you were being dragged to Draco’s house. “I don’t know, I don't want to intrude on–”

“Nonsense, you’d be our guide. I highly doubt Draco knows where he’s going,” Blaise assured. He got a stern ‘Hey’ from the blond but ignored it. “What do you say? Come with us?” You looked back and forth from the both of them and settled on Draco, your eyes asking him if he would even want you there. He shrugged his shoulders, leaving it up to you.

“Uh, sure. I’d just have to fix my schedule and–” you started before Blaise cut you off, “Great! We leave tomorrow at seven in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and walked inside. Draco stood at the door and was still confused as to what just happened. You started to walk away before Draco asked you, “Should we take my car?” You turned around and thought about it. “If you want.”

Draco preferred it, so he just agreed to it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smiled sheepishly and raised your hand to say 'bye’. Tomorrow was surely going to be… something.

—

You were hoping to be able to rest your head on Blaise’s shoulder for the ride to the airport. But here you were, in Draco’s car with the largest cup of coffee that was barely keeping you awake as you drove there. You were glad that Draco had common sense to book two flight tickets for everyone to go there because there was so way in hell you were going to drive six hours to Manhattan and another six back.

Theo, however, was resting his head on Blaise’s shoulder as he snored away during the short ride. Blaise tried to shove him off, but it turned out that the sleepy friend was heavier than he looked. It was funny, really. Draco sat in the passenger seat next to you on his phone trying to read out directions. You insisted you didn't need them, but he said they were more for himself when they come back home.

Once on the plane, you finally got some shut eye. You stayed up all night thinking about what to do for the day. Where to go, what to eat, what to see. And other things kept you up, but that's besides the point. During the security check, you had to hold your laughter. It was hilarious to watch the three men be so confused as to what was going on. They acted like it was their first time in an airport.

The seats you had were nice and surely expensive. Draco insisted that you didn't have to pay him back. Must be nice being rich you thought. Blaise looked at you and poked your nose, “Is someone sleepy?” You glared at him before laying back into your seat, “Maybe if you didn't keep me up all night, I wouldn't be tired.” You didn't know how the man could have this much energy in the morning.

The hour went by quick and you were in Manhattan by ten in the morning. You suggested a local diner that was near the airport which they all agreed to since they didn't know their way around. At the diner, Blaise and Theo had made a dash for the restroom. You laughed at the view of Theo pushing Blaise behind him and Blaise glaring at him as he smacked the back of his head.

“I swear, they’re still childish gits,” Draco groaned. “26 years old and they still don't grow up.” You nudged his arm from across the table. “Leave them be. They’re still young, and so are you. Let loose, we’re in New York City after all. Can’t be brooding the whole time.” Draco rolled his eyes and looked at the menu that was under the glass on the table.

A waitress came up to your table with a small clipboard and notepad. “Are you two ready to order?” she asked sweetly. “Not yet, we’re waiting on two people to come back,” you answered. “Oh that’s cute, is this a double date?”

Without hesitation, you and Draco stated at the same time, “We’re not together.” The waitress looked between the two of you and just nodded. “I’ll be back, then.” The both of you hadn’t said a word when she left and patiently waited for his friends to come back. Shortly after, they did. Blaise took the spot in the booth next to you and Theo next to Draco.

“Alright, what do you suggest I get?” Blaise asked you. He had his body slightly facing yours and an arm over the top of the seat around you. He hadn't bothered to look on the menu and just focused on your features. “Depends, what do you like?”

“Anything,” he lowered his voice and was close to your ear. The breath tickled your ear which made you giggle. “Okay, we get it. You two are cute. Now keep it down, I’d like to be able to digest this food,” Theo’s nose crinkled as he complained. You still didn't know Theo all that much. This morning, he walked like a zombie and he probably just became fully awake, so to see his best friend making kissy faces at you before his first meal wasn't an ideal way to start the day. Draco chuckled in his seat as he was still figuring out what to order.

“I have to make a quick call,” you announced before pulling out your phone and called one of your employees, “Were you able to open fine on your own? Okay, call me if anything happens. Okay, bye.” The waitress came back and took down the order after she set a pot of coffee for the four of you.

Theo was the first to say something, “So, Y/N is it?” You nodded in response as you took a sip from your mug. “What is it that you do in your free time? Other than Blaise, of course.” He had a smug smile watching as you blushed. Two seconds later, the table shook and Theo groaned in pain. Unbeknownst to you, both Blaise and Draco had kicked Theo in his shins.

“Stupid git,” Draco said under his breath. Theo glared at his friends as he rubbed his legs. You cleared your throat and started to speak before Blaise stopped you, “You don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s okay, he was just joking,” you defended. “No he wasn't,” Draco added. You ignored him and looked at Theo, “What do you want to know?”

He had your full attention and ignored the looks from his friends, “What do you do for a living? What’s your work like?”

“Well, I uhh,” you started, “I own a store downtown. I’m there almost everyday.”

“What kind of store is it?” Theo asked as he leaned over the table closer to you. “What do you sell?”

“Candles,” for the second time that day, you and Draco synchronized. “Yeah, I sell candles and little… knick knacks,” you still hadn't opened up to Draco or Blaise for that matter about your Wiccan activities. So to say that you sold sage bundles, specially made oils and healing crystals would raise questions you weren't ready to answer now.

“Draco, have you ever been to the place? What is it called, by the way?” Theo kept on. Blaise was certainly not kidding when he said that Theo loved to talk. “No, I haven't,” Draco answered. “It’s called Soul Beads, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, that’s the name.” The food was brought on a large tray. Blaise handed your plate to you and you grabbed your fork to dig in. He was eating slowly, looking as if he was thinking about something. “Hey, you okay?” you whispered to him, Draco and Theo having their own conversation. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine, love,” Blaise continued eating at a faster pace now. You looked around the men that surrounded you and smiled. Today’s gonna be fun.

—

The day went… weird. Blaise tried to have as much fun as possible but something was bothering him. Was it Theo talking his head off the entire time? No, I’m used to that. Was it his legs tired after walking almost all day? No, not that. Was it how even though you held his hands the whole time and gave him occasional kisses on his cheek or lips, you had gone the entire day talking to Draco and shared a couple laughs with him? Absolutely.

Jealousy was always an ugly emotion to Blaise. It annoyed him during his time at Hogwarts, and it annoys him now. The way girls would ask him if he was messing around with other girls and he’d always say the same thing. “How could I when you’re the most beautiful girl in these halls?” They’d all swoon over it. And by the looks of it, you swooned over his every word as well. But the looks you gave him were different from the ones you gave Draco.

From all the letters he had gotten from Draco, Blaise knew how much he hated you. No, loathed. But after the two of you decided to make nice, it was like you had been friends since day one. Draco may have even looked comfortable talking to you. And it bothered Blaise. His time with you may have been short, but today made him realize something.

Blaise is nowhere near being in love, he knew that much. But he knew that he didn't want to be messing around anymore. He wants to have an actual relationship, and right now, he wanted it with you. Blaise was confused by it all. He should be happy that his best friend and a girl he likes gets along. It would make it all that much easier.

But something about the two of you was odd today.

Maybe there was a look that lasted too long. Or a tone that came out differently. Or maybe… no. Blaise knew what it was. He just wants to have that same friendship with you. Blaise still didn't know that much about you. He didn't even know you had your own store until that morning. And to hear that his friend who supposedly hates you even knows not only the name of the store, but what you sell, hit something in him.

So, he was going to change that. Because for the most part, you were pretty interesting. He knew you were a Wiccan and as much as he doesn't really care to know what it was all about – considering he can just do any magic with a flick of a wand – he’d at least know you a little better.

Momentarily, as he was deep in thought, Theo’s annoying voice popped in his head. Hey, at least you know her in a way Malfoy won’t. He mentally cringed at it for a second before he thought Wait. I do. It was a start, not one that someone usually prefers, but it was better than nothing.

You sat beside him on the ride back home and had a smile on your lips while you rested on him. Draco was driving and Theo wanted to raise the volume of the music but his hand was slapped away. “She’s sleeping, idiot.” Draco scolded.

“Merlin, look at this,” Theo looked at Blaise as he pointed to Draco’s face. “Malfoy caring for a muggle? I’ve seen everything now.”

“M-muggle?” You rubbed your eyes and yawned. The three Slytherin’s had wide eyes, Blaise cursing Theo with his eyes. “I've heard,” you let out another yawn, “Draco say that before.”

Merlin, how many times have these actually talked? Blaise thought. “I-it’s just slang from London,” he tried to cover up. You nodded your head and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek before going back to sleep.

Once everyone was home, Blaise walked you to your door. “I had fun today, did you?” Blaise gave his most convincing smile, “Yeah, I did.”

You said ‘Good night’ and almost closed the door when he stopped you. “Is it alright that I stay with you tonight?”

“I'm kind of tired, maybe tomorrow–”

“No, not for that,” Blaise chuckled at your insinuation. You looked slightly surprised. And it made sense considering that's almost all he came over for. Nonetheless, you let him into your home. Blaise stayed true to his words and just laid beside you in bed until the two went to sleep.

In his own bedroom, Draco smiled as he thought about the fun day he had. Maybe being friends with you wasn't so bad. He went to his kitchen to grab a drink when he noticed there was one person missing. “Where's Blaise?”

“I think he's staying at Y/N’s,” Theo stated. Inside, Draco felt an unusual pang in his chest. He let it go and went to bed. Hopelessly trying to get out of his head whatever you two were up to.

—

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