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#just put his arms through those wide sleeves and carries her like a back pack
zaraki-oriented · 3 years
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Am I the only one that wonders if Renji secretly tries on Rukias captains robe?
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silver-tongued-bby · 3 years
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Discretion
Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader
Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).
Words: 5,026
Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.
I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.
Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!
...
God you were bored.
Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.
“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.
“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.
“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”
Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.
You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.
“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.
You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.
He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.
“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.
“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.
He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”
You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”
“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.
“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.
Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”
You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.
“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.
“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.
“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.
“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.
“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.
“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.
“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.
“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.
“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”
You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”
He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.
You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.
...
It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.
Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.
His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.
He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.
You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.
You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.
...
A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.
It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.
“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.
You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”
“I’m sorry to intrude.”
“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.
“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”
You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”
“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.
He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.
“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”
You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.
He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.
“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.
“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.
“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.
“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.
“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.
“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.
Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.
“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”
Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.
His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”
You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.
He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.
“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.
“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”
“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.
“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.
Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.
After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.
You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”
“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.
“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.
“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.
He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.
He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.
“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.
You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.
He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”
Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.
“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”
A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.
You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.
You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.
Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?
Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.
He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.
You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”
He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.
He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.
“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.
He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”
“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.
You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.
He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.
“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.
He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.
“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.
He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.
“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.
He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.
He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.
“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”
“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.
With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.
His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.
You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.
“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.
He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.
You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.
“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”
Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.
You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.
“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.
“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.
His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.
You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.
He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.
You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.
You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.
“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.
“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.
“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”
“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”
End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.
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akakeiiji · 3 years
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HI!~ (THIS IS MY FIRST TINE REQUESTING AND IM REALLY EXCITED) Can I request a scenario where their smol s/o (I'm like 155 or 5'1 for reference) gets easily lost? Like they just wonder off on their own cause they think that he's still with them and she tends to leave her phone with him so calling to find her is out of the question??? (Me honestly IM SORRY FRIENDS AND FAMILY) She likes a lot of things so sometimes its hard to find her cause they never know where she is? Ushi, Tsuki and Bokuto-🌼
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-`,✎ Ushijima, Tsukishima and Bokuto losing their short S/O in a crowd
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THIS REQUEST IS JUST TOO ADORABLE AND IT HITS SO CLOSE TO HOME!! We’re the same height nonnie 🤧🤧✋ Short gang, where ya’ll at? 
Also I apparently don’t know how to read because I thought you requested for headcanons at first despite you clearly asking for scenarios so I decided to keep the hcs since I was already halfway done with them~ hope you don’t mind, nonnie! 
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The man is literally built like the empire state building, he just towers over everyone, it’s insane
And then there you are behind him, all tiny and stuff, it’s so friggin adorable
He doesn’t really notice your height difference at all
Whenever people point it out, he just cocks his head with his eyebrows furrowed and is like “Yeah, I’m tall?? And they’re short?? Why are you reacting like that?”
He’s genuinely confused and doesn’t see why it’s a big deal at all
When he looks at you he doesn’t really pick up on itty bitty details like your height and stature; he just sees you for the whole you and sees you simply as this perfect deity that he loves
But he does appreciate the perks that come with it such as the way you feel when he hugs you after a match or the way you look up at him so adorably when you’re trying to get a kiss
He also didn’t realize the cons that came with having a tiny s/o
There are many but we’re focusing on the fact that it’s so easy to lose you in a crowd
He’ll literally look away for 0.5 seconds and when he looks back at you, you’re suddenly gone
He probably won’t notice for a bit but after a while, he’ll wonder why you aren’t holding onto his sleeve or hand anymore
Whenever this happens he usually goes about it in two ways; he’d either stay still where he is and let you find him (which isn’t hard, he sticks out like a sore thumb) or if enough time passes, he’ll retrace his steps and look for you himself
He’ll have a tiny little frown on his face since he gets so worried about you, like you’re so tiny what if you get trampled??
When he does find you though, the wide smile on your face when you catch sight of him honestly makes the search worth it
can you tell that I miss ushi so friggin much
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The streets in downtown Tokyo are always so packed at this time of day. There were hundreds of people rushing to and from work, tourists taking in the sights, and busy shoppers such as yourself and Ushijima; you two had just finished shopping together and were heading to your favorite restaurant in the area as you always do to end your date night.
Your hand remained tightly wrapped around the hem of your boyfriend’s coat as you two made your way down the busy streets, struggling to not get pulled away as people continued to mercilessly push past you. You would have much rather held Ushijima’s hand but he insisted on carrying all your shopping bags and was rather preoccupied with them at that moment.
He marched on, oblivious to your struggles behind him. It was during times like this when you hated how short your legs were, you were practically jogging to keep up with your boyfriend who, to him, was only going at a leisurely pace.
Before you knew it, your hand had loosened and you suddenly lost hold of his coat. You looked up, hoping to find him just a few feet away, but he had disappeared into the sea of people all around you.
Ushijima hadn’t noticed anything at first, he was too focused on where he was going to realize that the little tugs on the hem of his coat throughout the journey were suddenly gone. He looked down at both his hands and placed the shopping bags on one of them to the other so that he could use it to hold your own.
He held out his free hand behind him, calling out your name, and motioned for you to grab it. A few seconds went by of him gesturing like this only to be met with no response.
He looked back, eyebrows furrowed, only to find no sign of you.
Ushijima immediately stops in his tracks, eyes widening ever so slightly as he did a little 360 turn in his spot, raking over the crowds rushing past him in hopes he’d find your familiar head of hair bouncing about.
He stood motionless where he was, forcing people to walk around him—most wanted to tell him off for standing in the middle of the street but no one had the balls to.
A few minutes went by and he began walking down the direction he came from looking everywhere for you. Worry began to bubble in him when you were still nowhere to be found but suddenly he saw a figure waving at him from afar.
You were standing on top of those small cement blocks on the bottom street lights, waving your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around the lamp towards your boyfriend, grinning ear to ear when you met eyes with him.
Ushijima smiled in relief, shoulders relaxing as he made his way over to you. You met him halfway, immediately wrapping your arms around him in a hug, burying your face into his chest.
“I’m never letting go of your hand next time.” He said, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before interlocking your fingers together. You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Definitely not.”
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We all already know this: Kei is fucking ruthless
It doesn’t matter that you’re dating. It doesn’t matter that you’re literally his favorite person in the world tho he’ll never admit this to you you will not be free from his savageness
No one is more hyper-aware of your height difference than he is and no one teases you more than him
Tsukishima is literally the type to steal your things and hold them over your head or he’ll purposefully stand at full height whenever you want to kiss him just so that he can watch you struggle
“Oh, babe, I didn’t see you from down there.”
Is the type to purposefully put things you use all the time up on the top shelves in cupboards and cabinets
He says that he does this to annoy but really he does this so that you can call him to help you since he banned you from climbing the counters 🤧✋
He really loves your height though as much as he likes to tease you for it
He loves how easy it is to wrap his arms around you and how you burrow into his chest whenever you hug
His favorite thing about your height is probably the fact that it’s so comfortable being the big spoon with you since you fit so snuggly against him 🥺
again he’ll never tell you this, my man is tight-lipped
However he can get very protective over you, it’s like he developed this idea in this head that small = fragile
So whenever he loses track of you in a crowd (which happens a lot, it's honestly embarrassing) he immediately drops everything and searches for you
He’ll have this permanent pout on his face as he retraces his steps, going back to wherever you two were and keeping an eye out for either you or places that would catch your eye
Once he finally catches you, he’d sigh in relief and immediately put up his “i’m annoyed right now, give me attention” face and head over to you, knocking your head with his knuckles lightly
He’d lecture you a bit about staying close to him and he’d spend the rest of your time out with his eye on you and with his hand tightly wrapped around your own
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The mall was always so crowded during the weekend especially now that Christmas was just around the corner. Tsukishima told you that you two should visit the mall later during the week but you were just so excited to see this new movie, he simply couldn’t say no; he cursed himself for being so tightly wrapped around your finger.
The building was already pretty full when you two entered the cinema but when you two emerged, it was as if the number of people there seemed to double in just a span of a few hours.
As you two made your way through the tight-knit crowds of people, the frown on Tsukishima’s face never left as people kept pushing and rushing past him. He called out your name behind him and said, “See, I told you we should have come after the weekend, it’s like half the city is here right now.”
He waited for your usual giggle or scoff, maybe a light smack on his arm as you tell him to brighten up but there wasn’t any of that.
“(Y/N)? Did you hear me? I—(Y/N?),” He turned around, worried that you may have been upset at him but instead was surprised to find that you weren’t trailing along behind him like he expected you to be.
He turned around fully, hands coming out of his pocket as he raked his eyes over the crowds of people around him. It would be nearly impossible to find you here, there were probably hundreds of people in the mall now.
Tsukishima groaned slightly as he ran a hand through his locks, his other hand going into his pant pocket to ring your phone only to realize that it was with him as well, right next to his. This elicited a second groan from the blonde.
Knowing you, you probably got distracted by something and wandered away from him.
He retraced his steps, keeping a close eye on his surroundings. He had no idea when you wandered away from him so you could have been anywhere. He stood at full height, towering over the majority of the crowd, and scanned the entirety of the floor and the shops on it.
He entered a few stores he knew you’d most likely visit; the bookstore, the pet store, and a shop that was having a 50% sale but he found no traces of you.
Tsukishima was about to give up and head to the information desk and ask them to announce something on the loudspeaker to grab your attention—probably something along the lines of “To the small gremlin wandering around floor three right now, please meet Tsukishima Kei at the main exit.”—when he spotted a bright store on the other side of the floor.
You were there. He just knew it.
He rolled his eyes as he made his way to the anime store and low and behold, there you were, crouching as you stared at the shelves of anime merchandise, a wide ear to ear grin on your face.
Tsukishima sighed and lightly smacked you, tearing you away from your thoughts and making you look up at him in shock.
“You are such an idiot, (Y/N).” You only laughed in response and wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face onto his chest. “Aww, Kei! Were you worried about me?”
“Of course, I was. How do you expect me to feel?” He said with another roll of his eyes. He brought his hand up and placed it on top of your head. “I was worried someone thought you were a child and kidnapped you.”
You let out an indignant gasp and started to smack him but he only laughed and took your hand in his, dragging you out of the store behind him ignoring your protests.
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Nobody in the whole entire world thinks you’re more adorable than Bokuto
He adores the fact that you’re so tiny, he likes you call you his pocket-sized s/o  
He never really teases you, instead he always coos and coddles you
He especially loves lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around, he always does this after winning a game and it always leaves you feeling dizzy
But you never complain bc who would complain about being hugged by Kou like that 🤧✋
However, as much as Bokuto loves how smol you are, he always kinda forgets that you’re short??
It’s because he’s always surrounded by tall people; his friends, the volleyball team, etc.
So he always forgets to adjust when he’s with you
And you know how some people just naturally walk really really fast, like they can’t help it, it’s just how they walk normally??
Yeah, that’s Bokuto
And this paired with the fact that he is literally 6’1 means he practically travels at light speed
Your tiny legs can barely keep up with your excitable boyfriend and you’re always practically jogging to keep up with him so if you take your eyes off of him for even just a few seconds he’ll probably run off somewhere and disappear 😔✋
This occurs so often when you two are out that you’re never shocked whenever it happens
It takes a few minutes before Bokuto realizes that he’s suddenly alone in a crowd and that you aren’t beside him like he thought you would be
AND IM SORRY BUT THE FIRST THING HE’LL DO IS JUST YELL OUT YOUR NAME REPEATEDLY AT FULL VOLUME WITH NO SHAME WHATSOEVER
“(Y/N)!! WHERE ARE YOU??”
Everyone around him would give him looks but he wouldn’t care, he just needs to find you fast or he’ll start panicking tho he lowkey already is
Some people would think that he’s looking for his kid but nah, he’s just looking for his smol s/o who would show up beside him after a while with a disgruntled look on their face
It never takes long for you two to reunite when you get separated, you just have to wait for the distinctive voice of your boyfriend yelling for you somewhere
When you two find each other, the first thing he’ll do is pull you into a tight hug, usually lifting you up from the ground as he presses a few kisses on your cheeks in relief
He’ll remember to walk slowly for the rest of the time you’re out, usually with his arm over your shoulder or with his hand tightly wrapped around your own
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It made absolutely no sense to you that Bokuto literally grew up in the city yet has never visited the amusement park in the area before. You’ve visited the park countless times before but for your boyfriend, it was a first.
Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement ever since you proposed the idea of visiting the amusement park together and it only got more intense as the day of your visit grew closer and closer.
You somewhat regretted not pushing your date to a later day in the week so that it didn’t fall on the weekend since the park was so packed but that feeling quickly dissipated when you glanced at your beaming boyfriend beside you.
What you did regret however was the fact that you didn’t wear more comfortable shoes, ones that were more fitting for exercise rather than leisurely walks since you were practically running around the park just to keep up with Bokuto.
His hand remained tightly clasped on your own as he sprinted all around the park, looking at all the rides, food stands, and gift shops around the place. He wasn’t really running, he was simply walking at a quick pace but this coupled with his long legs made it so difficult to match his pace with your significantly shorter ones.
You two had just gotten off a rather intense roller coaster and you felt your head spin from how dizzy it made you, you halted in your steps as Bokuto was about to begin running towards another ride making Bokuto stop as well as he was pulled back by your hand which was still holding onto his.
“Koutarou, let me rest for a bit,” You said as you sat on a bench in the shade, Bokuto immediately nodded and took a seat beside you, he handed you a bottle of water from his bag. “Sure babe, here drink this.”
After a few minutes of talking and resting under the shade, you stood up, reinvigorated, and filled with more energy. “Okay, let’s go, I’m feeling much better now,”
Bokuto immediately jumped onto his feet and beamed at you, more than ready for another round of rollercoasters and thrilling rides. He held out his hand for you to take and you two headed farther into the park.
“Let’s go on the Viking ride next—wait, hold on, let me fix this.” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and began adjusting the overpriced headband on your head; Bokuto insisted on buying matching ones at the gift shop despite their ridiculous price (“Look, it’s just so adorable!”)
When you looked up, ready to grab ahold of his hand again, Bokuto was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
You whipped your head all around you but you couldn’t see the familiar head of hair of your boyfriend in the horde of people around you. You stood on your tiptoes, craning your head to get a better view but that didn’t do anything to help. You feel back on your feet and huffed; curse you and your short stature.
You walked down the direction you two were originally headed at, raking your eyes over the crowds of people you walked past when you suddenly heard a familiar voice yelling out your name from a distance. You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and began to jog towards it.
Bokuto was standing on his tiptoes, his hands cupping his mouth as he called out for you over and over again, oblivious to the looks of shock from the people around him.
As he was about to scream out your name for the dozenth time, you suddenly pushed your way through the people around him and grabbed ahold of his arm, an exasperated yet also relieved look on your face.
Bokuto’s face immediately lit up, the small frown on his lips turning into a large smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you into his chest and lifted you off the ground as he usually does when he hugs you.
You giggled and flailed around as he did this, when he placed you back safely on the ground, he placed a small kiss on your forehead.
“Sorry for leaving you behind,” Bokuto said as he laced his fingers onto your own, “It won’t happen again,”
You scoffed playfully and let yourself be dragged along by him, “That’s what you said last time, Kou.”
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onecanonlife · 3 years
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Wilbur has never had wings. He has long since resigned himself to that fact. However much of his father's blood runs through his veins, it is not enough to grant him that gift.
Wilbur comes back to life, and his back begins to ache.
(word count: 6,141)
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It’s stupid, but when his back first begins to ache, he assumes it’s old age.
The thing is that he doesn’t have any real frame of reference for what constitutes as old and what does not. His father is old, but his father has lived for literally thousands of years. Technoblade is not quite so old as that, but Technoblade never dies is more than just a catchphrase. Tommy is young, he’s sure of that much, but Tommy has days where he wakes up and his head and ribs won’t stop aching, remnants of that third death that have never quite left him, so Tommy is perhaps not the best gauge of what pains are and are not normal for a young person.
Wilbur doesn’t think that he’s particularly old. He’s still not yet thirty, unless he counts the void years. Then, he’s older than thirty. Then, he’s older than his own bones. He tries not to dwell on the void years, because dwelling on the void years gives him urges that he’s still learning how to ignore. Urges like informing everyone gaily and at length when the inevitable heat death of the universe will be, or giving everyone a graphic description of what happens at a microscopic level in the human body when it picks up a stomach bug.
The point is, he’s not very old. But he feels it, a lot of the time, so when he wakes up one morning and his back is killing him, he shrugs it off and goes about his day. It hurts, sure. It hurts kind of a lot. But he’s had worse. The void took him apart molecule by molecule and put him back together again so many times that he learned to love it, and compared to that, this is nothing at all.
Life in the Arctic has been—nice. It’s been nice, reconnecting with Phil, cautiously rebuilding his relationship with Technoblade. Tommy comes to visit a lot, and it’s odd, trying to juggle the kid he thinks of as a brother with his father and his father’s best friend, especially when there’s so much bad blood between the lot of them, but they make it work. And Ranboo is around a lot, and he’s a nice kid, and Niki stops by every so often, and it’s good to see her. No one else is very interested in coming to visit him, which is understandable, but she always smiles at him, and he knows that they’re still friends. Which is good.
He’s fairly sure that the four of them, Phil and Techno and Niki and Ranboo, have some sort of secret club thing going on. They always give him different answers when he asks about it; Niki blinks and tells him it’s a book club, and Ranboo does not blink because he does not have eyelids, but Ranboo claims that it’s a pet grooming society. So they’re lying to him for sure, and he thinks he could know the truth if he wanted to, if he tapped in just a bit more to those bits of void that have nestled in his heart. The temptation is strong, sometimes, but he resists.
He doesn’t want to mess with a good thing, is all. He’s found a peace here in the snow that he didn’t think he would be able to find outside of the grave. He is hesitant to call himself healing, but most days, when his head cries out for blood and fire and burning the world and himself along with it, he can push the idea away and carry on without trying to act on it. That is healing, perhaps.
Captain Puffy tells him it is, anyway, and he’s found that Captain Puffy tends to know what she’s talking about.
But so. His back hurts. And he expects it to stop after a while, because even old person aches surely can’t last forever. Except, it doesn’t, and in fact seems to only get worse over the next few days, to the point that he starts to worry that it’s going to begin interfering with his functionality. Which he doesn’t want. He needs freedom, freedom to go where he wants, even if where he wants to go usually isn’t very far. It’s the principle of the thing. He does not do well with confinement, with spaces that are too enclosed, and if this pain ends up laying him out in his room, he’s going to go insane.
Poor choice of words, that. But the point still stands, so he makes a decision. The decision is this: he’s simply not going to allow that to happen.
So he slaps a smile on his face and carries on with his business, and does his best to ignore the way his spine starts to feel like it’s cracking open and stabbing into the surrounding muscle. And he is a very good actor, if he does say so himself, so for the most part, no one seems to notice that anything is wrong. Phil asks him if he’s feeling alright, but he’s able to deflect by claiming fatigue, and Phil accepts the explanation easily. And the pain only increases, does not let up at all, but it’s a gradual sort of increase, so before too long, he figures out how to adjust to it. It’s fine. He’ll be fine.
And then Tommy stops by for a visit, and they’re chatting outside for a moment, and Tommy says something stupid and ridiculous, so he smacks him gently upside the head, which Tommy takes objection to. And then they’re wrestling, which makes the pain flare a bit, but it’s manageable, especially since he gets Tommy pinned in about four seconds flat, which. Is concerning, a bit, because he is not particularly strong, physically, so if he can pin Tommy, there are a lot of other people who could also definitely pin Tommy.
But he’s probably not thinking about it the right way. This was a play fight, not a real one, and it’s difficult, sometimes, to remember that the server is currently at peace.
He pins Tommy, both of them panting and grinning in the snow, and he doesn’t let up until Tommy admits defeat. And then he gets to his feet, and here is where he makes the error: he turns his back.
The snowball impacts him right between his shoulder blades. He stumbles forward with the force of it, and his knees hit the snow.
Tommy is already cackling, is calling him a bitch. Wilbur barely has time to think oh, shit before something spasms, and it’s like something has taken a knife to him from the inside out. He hears a strangled little scream, choked and agonized, and barely recognizes the fact that it’s coming from him, because black spots are dancing across his vision and his lungs aren’t inflating properly and he can hardly think.
“Oh, come on,” Tommy says, a wide smile still in his voice. “Don’t be such a pussy. I didn’t even pack any ice in.”
He can’t reply. The agony is centered where the snowball hit, but it’s radiating outward, and the whole of his back feels like it’s burning and freezing all at once, and he shudders violently, breaths coming in short, quick gasps. He clenches his fists, braces them against his thighs, pressing down hard enough to leave bruises.
“Wilbur?” Tommy asks, more uncertain. And then, Tommy is there, kneeling down in front of him, and his face goes all wide and panicky. “Wilbur? Holy shit, are you dying? Are you having a heart attack? A stroke? Are you freezing to death? Have I just killed you with a snowball? You’ve got three lives again, right? Where are you hurt, Wil, come one, you’ve got to tell me, you’ve gotta tell me so I can fix it, are you—”
“My back,” he manages, “my back’s been—my back’s been hurting, it wasn’t your fault, it’s just—” He cuts off with another gasp as all the muscles in his back convulse, tensing and untensing and tensing again and sending a wave of stabbing pain through his nerves.
“Oh, Prime,” Tommy says, “oh, Prime, alright, you’re gonna be fine, big man, let’s just get you inside, alright? Can you walk? Nevermind, just—” Tommy hooks his hands underneath his arms and hauls him to his feet, slinging one of his arms across his shoulders as soon as he can get them in the right position. He lets out a little whimper, and hates himself for doing so, just a little bit, but fuck, that hurts.
The stairs are a trial. His feet drag, and he would trip and fall flat on his face if it weren’t for Tommy. But then, they’re inside Phil’s house, and Tommy sits him down on Phil’s ratty little couch, and he immediately curls in on himself, hands gripping his forearms as if the pain will go away if he hugs himself hard enough.
“Okay, shirt off, Wil, let me see,” Tommy says, and he blinks dumbly for a moment.
“What?” he asks, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth.
“No, just—you’ve got to let me see what’s wrong, yeah?”
“‘S old man aches,” he mumbles, but doesn’t try to fight it when Tommy begins manhandling his arms, pushing at his coat sleeves.
“What the fuck are you on about?” Tommy demands. “You’re not that old. Who do you think you are, Philza fucking Minecraft? Come on, just let me see—” He finally manages to get the coat off, and then the shirt, and his skin erupts in gooseflesh as it’s exposed to the air. Tommy freezes.
“What?” he asks. “What is it, what’s—”
“I don’t,” Tommy says, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t, Wilbur, I don’t know what this is, I don’t—holy shit, that’s actually kind of scary. Um! No, nevermind, don’t pay attention to me, just keep um, breathing! Breathing is good! Breathing exercises!” He breathes in and out, loud and exaggerated. “See, just like that. I’m just gonna—”
And he puts a hand out, and before Wilbur can stop him, he rests it on his back. Light and cautious, but still too much, and Wilbur stuffs a fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming. In the same motion, he flinches away, violently, but the damage has already been done. Because the contact hurts, a lot, but what’s worse is the horror, because in the split second that Tommy’s hand touched his skin, he could feel the way that it is wrong, that his back is wrong, that there is something terribly wrong. Because there are ridges protruding from his back, long and thick and raised, and it’s wrong and it hurts and Tommy’s right, actually, this is scary, he’s fucking scared.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Tommy is saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I won’t do that again, I’m so sorry, Wilbur, are you okay? Please be okay, please—”
He nods, though it’s more like he lets his head fall and then painstakingly brings it back up a little.
“Okay, I think we need—” Tommy says. “I think that I don’t know what to do, so I think we need—” He takes a deep breath. “Phil! Phil!” Loud, panicked, earsplitting. Wilbur winces. “Phil! He is home, isn’t he? Phil!”
A second passes, and then, drifting up from the basement, a distant, “Tommy? Everything good?”
“Phil, get up here right fucking now!”
There is a beat of silence, and then there are footsteps, quiet at first but growing closer, and they are quick, hurried. Phil must have detected the genuine fear in Tommy’s voice, because Tommy and Phil generally stand on very shaky ground with each other, so while Phil will typically indulge Tommy in his whims, it depends on the day as to how far he’ll go, how quick he’ll respond. But it’s only a moment or two before Phil’s head pokes out of the floor, his hands clinging to the ladder, his face twisted in confusion.
“What on earth is the matter?” he asks, and then breaks off as his eyes land on Wilbur, who—he must be a sight. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. But terror flashes across Phil’s face, and he is crossing the floor in an instant, hands hovering over him, fluttering helplessly, though thankfully, he doesn’t touch.
“What’s wrong, where are you hurt, what—” The words come out in a jumbled flurry, but he stops just as abruptly, and Wilbur knows that he is looking at the horror show that is his back.
“It hurts, Phil,” he whispers.
“Okay,” Phil says, sounding—still concerned, but perhaps marginally calmer? “Okay, you’re going to be alright. I think I know what this is.” He settles himself on the couch right next to him and opens his arms, and Wilbur doesn’t hesitate before leaning forward, slumping against him. Phil seems to know better than to put any kind of pressure on his back, and instead places one hand on his arm and the other on the back of his head, threading his fingers through his hair.
“Then what the fuck is it?” Tommy demands.
“Tommy, I need you to run over to Techno’s and ask him for something for pain, and something for sleep. Can you do that for me?” Phil asks instead of answering, and perhaps Wilbur should be terrified by the implication that he’s going to need either of those things, but the promise of some kind of relief overrides any kind of trepidation.
“Like fuck I will,” Tommy says, “Not before you tell me what the fuck is wrong with him!”
Another convulsion wracks him. He bites his lip to keep from crying out, and tastes blood. His breath is hitching, and he can’t stop it.
“Tommy.” Phil’s voice is sharp, but then, Wilbur feels rather than hears him sigh. “It’s wings, I think. I don’t understand why now, but I went through this a long time ago, when I was very young. I recognize the signs. So Tommy, please.”
Tommy makes a surprised little sound. Wilbur isn’t looking, has his face buried in Phil’s shoulder, but he can imagine the look on his face: the slack jaw, the wide open eyes. And then, there are rushed footsteps retreating, and the door slamming, and Tommy’s muffled voice calling out for Technoblade.
And then, Wilbur processes what Phil just said.
He twists his head around so he can see his face, regretting it a moment later. Any kind of movement seems to make the pain worse, and he has to take a moment to tremble through it.
“Wings?” he whispers. “How?”
He’s never had wings.
If he were going to have wings, he would have gotten them a long time ago. He remembers nights spent as a child, staying up and hoping for feathered appendages to somehow miraculously appear on his back, just so he could be more like his dad. He remembers the crushing disappointment when he finally accepted that no matter how much divine blood runs in his veins, it is apparently not enough.
But he did accept it. He accepted it years ago. There is absolutely no reason for him to be developing wings now, as a fully-grown adult, but Phil sounds so very sure, and his back hurts so very much, and perhaps that’s consistent with actual appendages trying to sprout out of him.
“I don’t know,” Phil says. “I’ve never heard of it happening so late, even in avians. Which, I’m not exactly, but I got mine when I was a kid like they do, and I don’t—I don’t know, Wil, I really don’t, but I remember what it was like, yeah? I know what to do. It’s gonna suck for a little while, but you’re going to be fine, I promise.”
“Okay,” he croaks, “okay—” and then he has to stop talking, because the pain flares again, bright and intense and holy shit, but it’s worse this time, because now that he knows what’s going on, he can feel them. He can feel things inside of him, pushing against his muscles and his skin in ways that absolutely should not be possible, and there is too much of him to be contained in his body, and there are things inside of him trying to escape—
It’s almost like the way he gets when he thinks about the void too hard. Except not, because when he does that, he feels the urge to dissolve away, gently and peacefully, to let himself back into the quiet that is not quiet and the darkness that is not dark, where all the knowledge of the world is at his fingertips, too much for a mortal brain to contain and remain sane. That is not this. This is his own body trying to explode. There is no peace, no dissolution; it’s messy and physical and Prime he just wants it to stop.
He shifts in Phil’s grasp, fruitlessly trying to find a position that takes the pressure off, a little bit. It’s no use, of course, because he can still feel something moving under the skin of his back, and his vision whites out, and when he comes back to himself, he’s shivering, shivering and shaking and sobbing in Phil’s hold, and he doesn’t remember when he started crying but he can’t seem to make himself stop. Phil is keeping up a steady stream of soothing nonsense, and he latches onto the sound of his voice like it’s the only lifeline he has.
And then the door bursts open, and Wilbur doesn’t bother trying to look, but there are two sets of footsteps, not just one.
“Here,” Tommy says, panting, and there are several thumps, and several clinks, glass on glass.
“Oh god, don’t—and he’s doing it, he’s just dumping all of that on the floor. Don’t break those, Tommy, those aren’t splash pots. Have you never handled a potion before.” Technoblade pauses for a moment. “So, what exactly’s wrong with him? The child was making no sense at all.”
Wilbur thinks he detects a note of concern. But he’s not thinking clearly, and it’s always hard to tell anyway, with Technoblade.
“He’s got wings growing in,” Phil responds, voice clipped. Wilbur feels his hand leave his arm, and he whines at the loss of touch. And then another spasm, and he whines again, pressing his face harder into Phil’s shirt.
“Oh. Huh. Yes, that makes perfect sense, of course.”
Phil’s arm dips a bit, and Wilbur finds himself being moved, his head gently tilted back. Phil’s face comes into view, pale and blurry.
“You want to drink this for me, Wil?” he says, and then there is glass at his lips, and he parts them immediately. He doesn’t like being knocked out, doesn’t like the loss of control that comes with it, but if he has to be aware for another five minutes, he’s not going to be able to keep himself from screaming aloud.
He swallows, grimacing at the taste. The effects start hitting right away. His mind detaches from himself, and the pain drains from him. Every muscle goes lax.
He exhales.
“There we go,” Phil murmurs, “there we go. It’s gonna be alright, Wil. I’ll be here the whole time. You’re gonna be okay.”
The world falls away. He lets it. He trusts his father to catch him.
----------
He wakes up a few times, and each time, it hurts. Phil is always there, and usually, Tommy too, and sometimes Techno, and he can barely move but they always see that he’s awake, and they give him a potion and he’s under again, and he’s glad for it, because those moments of consciousness are a spiral of pain and confusion and his thoughts flying apart because he barely understands what’s going on or why he’s hurting and he just wants it to go away.
And then there is the time he wakes up and he thinks somebody is cutting his back open, and he can feel his own blood on his skin, sticky and hot, and he thrashes, trying to get away, and that makes the pain so much worse, and the sound that comes out of his mouth is inhuman, and he fights until a potion is poured down his throat and it’s back to sleep again.
And then there is the time he wakes up, and people are talking in low, hushed tones. He can’t make out what they’re saying. He cracks his eyes open, and it’s Phil and Technoblade, deep in some discussion, both looking terribly concerned. He decides he’ll ask what’s wrong later, and then closes his eyes and goes back to sleep again.
And then there is the time he wakes up, and some part of him is moving, and he doesn’t understand what it is because it’s not any of his limbs, not his arms and not his legs, and it feels alien and foreign and his back feels like it’s been shoved under a woodchipper and then tossed through a paper shredder for good measure, and he’s not aware enough to know why, so he panics. There is a bit of the void that still dwells in his heart, and he calls on it, cries out to it, and it answers, comes rushing in around him, and his mind expands to peer into galaxies.
Philza is at his side a moment later, and he is able to look at him and see all the weight of years that lie behind his eyes, and all the years that lie ahead of him, and the moment of his death, all spiraling out like a tapestry and like a mass, and the music is atonal, confused, but a closer glance reveals it to be twelve-tone, order in the chaotic lines. Wilbur is with the void again, and his heart still beats, but it’s a near thing, and he could stop it if he chose.
“Do you want to know, Philza?” he asks, words spilling from his lips like rain, like the river, like the flood. “Do you want to know when it will happen? I can see it. I can see how some part of you wants it. All our histories are like tangled up threads, but they all come to an end, and I can see those endings, Philza, I can tell you about them if you like.”
Pain constricts Philza’s face, and Wilbur doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know who wouldn’t love the void and its peace and its everything.
“I know, Wilbur,” Philza says, “I know, but how about you come back to me now, okay? Come back to me?”
“We’re all little bits of code, Philza,” he informs him. “None of us are real. We’re little bits of code and words on a page and lines in a script written by our better selves. Nothing in this world really matters. We might as well have all the fun we can before the lights go out. Do you want to know when that will be, Philza? Not too long after you, Philza. Not too long at all. I told Tommy, he knows, he didn’t want to know but that’s alright, he’s better off for it, if he hasn’t forgotten.”
“Come back, Wil, come on,” Philza says, “you can do it. You’ve got a heartbeat, do you feel it?”
Philza takes his hand and places it over his heart, and—that’s right. He’s alive. He’d forgotten. The void spins, and then it tucks itself away again, waiting for the next moment he needs it, and he is left with only vague impressions of what he’s just said and a vague idea that everything hurts and something is wrong with his back and he’d like to go to sleep now, please.
“Alright, yeah,” Phil says, “here, you can have this, you can sleep. You’re doing so well, Wil, I promise it’s almost done.”
He takes the potion. Or tries to; Phil has to hold it for him.
“Okay,” he says faintly. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he hears Phil say, very far away. “So long as you come back, everything’s okay.”
He goes back to sleep again. He thinks he wakes up a few more times, but he doesn’t really remember. He doesn’t really want to.
----------
And then: awareness.
The first thing he processes is that everything aches, deeply and acutely, but none of it feels nearly as bad as it did before, and not even as bad as it’s been over the past couple of weeks. It’s irritating, painful, but more than manageable, really, practically a relief. The second thing he processes is that he’s lying on his stomach, and that there is something weighing him down.
His mind puzzles over this for a moment. He tries to roll over, to see what’s going on, but something stops him, and then he remembers: wings.
He’s got wings. There are wings on his back. Growing out of him. A part of his body. Wings.
As soon as he realizes that, he becomes aware of them. And it is so very strange, to suddenly have access to two extra limbs, to suddenly have additional body parts to move about and control. It’s a feeling impossible to describe, and he has to take several minutes to process it, to try to become accustomed to it. It doesn’t really work, but he tries moving them anyway, just a bit of a flex, and—
Ouch.
He groans, shoving his face into the pillow. A mistake. That was a mistake. He’d rather like to go back to sleep now and pretend that none of this is happening.
But his vocalization draws attention, and then there is a hand on his shoulder, gently brushing him just enough to feel, not enough to pain him. He turns his head to the side, reluctantly, and Phil is kneeling beside him, his face open and soft and clearly relieved, his lips curling into a slight smile.
“Hey,” he says. “How you feeling, Wil?”
He considers this, and decides on honesty. “Bit like I’ve been caught between a piston and a wall for the past couple of days,” he admits. “Better than before, though.”
“Good to hear,” Phil says, and then his face goes a bit more serious. “How much of that do you remember?”
“Not much?” he says. “I don’t think? Impressions, I guess. I know I wasn’t having a good time. I’m glad I don’t remember it too clearly. I was out for most of it, yeah?”
“Most of it,” Phil agrees, and Wilbur thinks that perhaps there is something he’s not saying, but he doesn’t feel like pressing the matter. He can guess what it is, anyway; there is a chill in his chest, and his thoughts feel just slightly more fractured than usual, so it’s not hard to assume what might have happened. Not hard to assume where he might have gone. He’s sure he’ll feel terrible about it when everything stops feeling so surreal.
He has wings.
“It’s over now?” he asks, and winces at the way his voice cracks. “It’s done?”
Phil’s eyes do the thing where they go immeasurably soft and crinkly at the edges, and it’s love and relief and sadness all at once. “It’s done,” he agrees, and then hesitates. “You’re not gonna be able to fly on them for a while, but would you like to see?”
He doesn’t understand why Phil is being so cautious about it. Of course he wants to see. If he’s going to be put through hell, he wants to see what came of it. He wants it to be worth it.
“Usually, when wings grow in, they’re all downy and shit. Like a baby bird,” Phil says, probably in response to whatever face he’s sure he’s making. “Flight feathers come in over the next few weeks.” He pauses again, and Wilbur thinks he understands his reticence, now, understands the still-present concern.
“But that’s not what happened with mine,” he states, and Phil shakes his head.
“Yours are fully fledged,” he says. “Probably part of why it hurt so much. I don’t know why, Wil. But do you wanna have a look?”
Wordless, he nods, and Phil takes that as his cue to reach out and help him sit upright. It’s far more effort than it should be, compounded by the fact that his sense of balance feels all wrong, and that’s going to take some getting used to, he can already tell. And he’s sore, like he’s run a marathon or fought another half dozen wars all in one go, and his head spins a little bit when he finally situates himself. He closes his eyes against it, breathing in sharply.
He feels Phil guiding his wings forward, into his field of vision. He opens his eyes.
They are very big, is the first thing he notices. They would have to be, of course, to hold his weight up. Magic and suspension of disbelief only stretches so far. They are very large, and the feathers are very large, and they are very angular and neat as well, so neat that someone has to have arranged them while he was unconscious, because there’s no way that they came out looking like that.
The color, though. The color. He swallows, hard.
They are black, perhaps. They look black. But he knows on an instinctive level that they are black in the same way that the void is black, and that if someone were to stare at them for too long, they would realize as much, would realize that actually, they are not black at all, but rather some color or some lack of color that is beyond human comprehension. The void translates as black to the human mind because it is as close as the human mind can get to true perception, and most of the time, Wilbur remembers it as black, but it was not, and his wings are not, and he is never going to be free of it, is he?
On some level, he knew that. Knew that the void is in him and about him, and no matter what he does, it will never leave him completely, not after all the years he spent with it, intertwined with the infinite nothing. But now he has wings on his back, and they should be a connection between him and Phil, should be something to celebrate, but he stares at the plumage and feels sick to his stomach.
“Wil?” Phil asks. He sounds confused, sounds worried by his reaction. “You okay, mate?”
He’s not sure how to phrase this in a way that Phil will understand. Not sure that he wants to.
“Void,” he manages, voice a broken whisper. “They look like void, Phil.”
He looks up just in time to see Phil’s face crumple.
“Wil—”
“They look just like it, Phil,” he continues. “Just like it. And I know I’m not always good about, about being here, about keeping myself stable, but I’m trying. I try to ignore it when it calls, I try not to reach out to it, and when I fail, I, I try to come back, I do, I swear. I can’t—I can’t have these, Phil, they’re from it, that’s why I’m getting them now, maybe it triggered something, I don’t know, but I can’t, Phil, I can’t—”
He reaches out toward them, intending to do—something, maybe, and Phil must have a better idea than he does, because his hand darts out and snags his, stopping him in his tracks.
“No, Wil, don’t do that, okay? We can work on it, we’ll figure it out, but please don’t—”
“You’re up!”
He and Phil both freeze, and as one, look to the door. Tommy is standing there, grinning like nobody’s business, and Technoblade is lurking behind him, his face contorted into an expression that looks like he wants to murder someone but really just means he’s feeling very awkward.
Tommy glances back and forth between the two of him, and his face slowly falls.
“Is everything okay?” he asks. “Nothing—I mean, it all went right, didn’t it?”
He blinks. Tilts his head slightly. Gently removes his hand from Phil’s grasp, and then spreads out his wings behind him, putting them on full display, as far out as he can make them go, and it aches and he’s not going to be able to hold them there for long, but it’s worth it. He wants Tommy to see. Because Tommy will know. Tommy remembers. And unlike him, Tommy hates to remember. Tommy hates the void. So perhaps this is an act of self-sabotage. That’s what Captain Puffy would say. But he does it anyway, because he wants someone else to see and understand, understand in a way he knows Phil won’t be able to.
“I’ve got void wings, Tommy,” he says, and a smile splits his face. “See them?”
Tommy’s eyes widen, and he flinches.
Gratification is not nearly as sweet as he thought it would be. Actually, he just sort of feels like crying.
But then, Tommy’s brows draw together. And he steps further into the room, coming closer and closer until he’s standing right up against the bed, staring at the feathers. Wilbur holds himself very still.
“I see,” Tommy says slowly, “but Wilbur, I’m not sure you do.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, and cranes his neck to try to see whatever Tommy’s looking at. For a moment, he doesn’t; there’s just the feathers, void feathers, death feathers, a reminder that—
But arctic sunlight slants through the window, and if he shifts his angle just a little bit—
The noise that escapes him is small and involuntary. He hopes no one calls him on it, but that’s the least of his concerns right now. Because the colors do not change, not exactly, but if he holds them to the light, the sun illuminates the feathers, haloing their edges in gold, and there is a sheen of color running across them, a sheen that ripples and moves as he shifts them in the sunbeam, and it is a beautiful, rich blue.
And they’re lovely.
“Oh,” he says, and Tommy laughs at him, the fucking gremlin.
“Yeah, fucking oh,” he says. “You’re such a moron. They’re so fucking ace, Wilbur.”
“I think that maybe you need to work on rememberin’,” Technoblade says from the doorway, “that you’re the sum of all your experiences, and not just one.”
Wilbur stares at him.
“Oh my god,” he finally says. “That’s so cheesy. Who the hell are you and what have you done with Technoblade?”
“Alright,” Techno grumbles, “see if I do anythin’ nice for you ever again. I didn’t come up here to receive this kind of treatment. This is an outrage.”
He laughs. He laughs, from the sheer relief of it, and his trepidation is melting away like snow in the sunshine, and he can allow himself to revel in it, to revel in the wings on his back, and he is sore and tired but this is what glory feels like, maybe, and perhaps he can fly into the air and there will be no wax to drip away.
Perhaps these wings are of the void, but they are of him, too.
And he looks to Phil again, and Phil is smiling at him, warm and happy. His own wings are flared out behind him, tattered at the edges, so many feathers torn or still missing entirely, and the more time that passes, the more and more likely it is that those feathers are never going to grow back, that Phil truly will never fly again. Phil has already resigned himself to it, he knows, but Wilbur has never given up hope, will never be able to bring himself to give up hope.
“It’s not fair that I can fly when you can’t,” he says quietly, and the room goes still and quiet. Especially when it’s my fault, he doesn’t say, though he knows everyone hears it.
“Wil,” Phil says, “nothing could bring me more joy than this.”
And Wilbur hears what he means: you, here.
So he flexes his wings and revels in the ache and revels in the sunshine and revels at his family, here, his father sitting by him and his friend-protege-brother poking at curiously at his feathers and Technoblade still in the doorway, not leaving even for all his grumbling. He revels in this, revels in this life, and for a time, the void recedes entirely.
And in its wake is the sunlight.
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bcdaily · 3 years
Note
jily childhood friends running into each other years later?
Ta-dah! Thank you for the prompt! Now I have to write shorter things, or I’ll never get another done. XD
She knew that hair.
It was a glimpse—a fleeting hint of familiar dark chaotic strands protruding above the multitude of milling heads inside the crowded hotel lobby. Lily stopped where she stood, certain—certain…but that was foolish, surely? It was hair. Billions of people had hair. Even distinctive hair like that. And what would he be doing here, what were the chances…She darted left, slipping through other conference attendees, following the bobbing head of black. Her fingers toyed absently with the lanyard around her neck. Her feet kept moving. She was closing in. But—shit—he was turning into the next doorway. She’d lose him—
“Potter!” she shouted.
The bobbing black head stopped in the doorway threshold. He turned.
Something pulled inside Lily’s chest.
God, it was.
His mouth—an older mouth; familiar features spread across a matured frame, sharper and wider—formed her name. A question. His head tilted.
She squirmed around the last huddled group of conference-goers blocking her path. A middle-aged skeletal bloke shot her an annoyed look as she prodded past him. A server carrying a tray of canapés swerved around her. She wished the tray had been alcohol. She might need it. She wasn’t sure.
James Potter had grown up to be tall. Cresting six feet, easily. His limbs were long, his chest wide, but his hair—that hair—hadn’t changed a bit. Neither had his smile: bright, crooked, with the same infectious delight he’d managed so easily at eleven, now captured just the same in a man of twenty-four.
Twenty-four. They were twenty-four now. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years.
“Lily Evans,” he said, audibly this time, and the smile grew brighter. “Shit.”
“Shit,” Lily repeated, laughing. Now that there was nowhere to go, no further crowds to weave through, no mop of dark hair to stalk, she was not quite sure what to do. She hadn’t thought past the part of just confirming it was him. Somehow, magically, him. Strange, strange, strange. Now they were standing before each other and—
And he was good-looking.
Had been, back then, at eleven. But that was eleven, and those things didn’t often last. Features shifted. Bodies changed. Conventions came and went at whim. Who could keep up?
James Potter could, apparently.
Not that that was the point. She hadn’t chased him down because he was fit. She could only see his head, for Christ’s sake. She hadn’t known. Not about the height, about the posh specs and the twinkling hazel eyes, about the tanned, sculpted forearms revealed beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down. It wasn’t—
He eyed her, eyeing him. “Do we…hug…or…?”
She snorted. “I don’t know.”
“Reckon I ruined it by asking.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not as natural now.”
“Yes, quite ruined.”
“Ah, well. Will do better next time. Meet again in another…what’s it been? A decade or so?”
“Thirteen years, by my count.”
“Thirteen? Bloody hell, I can’t wait another thirteen years. I’ll be dead. Let’s just—”
And then somehow he was hugging her, and Lily was laughing again, and her fingers were digging into his back as she clutched him to her.
He had a nice back, James Potter did.
A nice smell, too.
The first boy she’d ever kissed remembered to shower. Lovely.
In the past ten seconds, she’d grown greedy and impetuous. As he pulled away, she darted up on her toes and dropped a hasty kiss to his cheek. Stolen, like a criminal. She was in a hotel lobby filled with barristers, and not a single one could convict her, so stealthy was she.
His fingers trailed down her arm as their bodies detangled. Her skin burned along the path.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, stepping back. She really, really needed to step back. “I mean, it’s good to see you—strange to see you, really, but—you’re a barrister?”
It didn’t fit the James Potter in her head. The boy who’d grown up alongside her, had lived in the sprawling, noble house at the top of the hill, running wild with the lot of them in Cokesworth, until he wasn’t. That boy had certainly had the cleverness and confidence to pull off law, but not the patience or deference to its structures and politics. He would’ve collapsed under the piles of paperwork. He would have crowed agony at the rules, the formalities, the bureaucracy. Had that swotty boarding school his parents’ packed him off to changed him so very much?
James pulled a face. “Fuck me, no. I’m running the catering for the conference. My mum—”
“—owned a restaurant,” Lily recalled, somehow delighted not to have pegged him wrong. She closed her eyes wistfully. “God, that’s right. When you moved, we were all bereft. I think I still smell that eggplant appetizer of hers in my dreams.”
“The caponata?” His grin turned sneaky. “She still has it on the menu.”
“Where?”
“Casa. SoHo.”
Lily had heard of it. To think, James Potter, her childhood friend and mild fixation, just a few tube stops away, for who knew how long. “So you’re in London?”
“Since university,” he confirmed. Then his head tilted, and the sneaky smile turned coy. “So you’re a barrister? In London?”
“Yes.” She waved her conference lanyard like a white flag, surrender. “Wildly disappointed?”
“No. It fits.” Humour weaved through his voice—deeper and cooler now, all grown up. “No one could ever win an argument with you. And I tried. It was fun.”
He’d been a menace. He’d taken such delight from getting a rise out of her. But even as children, talking with him had been addicting. There were so few who could match wits with her, even fewer who didn’t take it personally, who dusted themselves off after a rousing debate and stuck out their hand, a shake of respect for the good time. James Potter had been like that. It’s why she’d cornered him behind a tree in the park where they all used to play, just before his parents had packed up house and he’d left for boarding school. With his back against the tree bark, she’d pressed her lips against his and waited to see what he did with it.
He’d cupped her chin with both of his hands and pressed his lips harder against hers.
It was closed-mouths, mere seconds. A first for both of them.
But to this day, Lily’s knees still went weak when someone held her face.
Silly. Stupid. She talked about work to make the memory go away.
“A bit less fun now. It’s mostly forms and deadlines and”—she waved her hand around the room—“swotty, deadly dull networking conferences. I’m just out of school. I hardly do anything yet.”
“But you’re good at it,” James stated, definitive.
She didn’t bother to hide her preen. Was wary by how much pleasure she took out of his automatic confidence in her. “Yes. I’m very good at it.”
They stared at each other, grinning.
He had a girlfriend. Lily was certain of it. There was no way this man did not have a significant other. Or maybe there was a very good reason, because she knew absolutely nothing about him. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years. Entire lives were lived in thirteen years. Who knew what kind of person he was now? He could cut a dashing figure, hold a conversation, but maybe he also cut up bodies in his flat for fun. Maybe he bit his toenails. Maybe he liked The Big Bang Theory. Maybe he drank milk straight from the carton and then put it back in the fridge.
“You didn’t grow up ugly, James Potter,” she said.
“I looked you up on Instagram a few times,” he replied immediately. “You never post pictures of yourself. But I like your cat.”
“His name is Bosley.”
“I know.”
Lily squinted at him. “What else do you know?”
Hazel eyes gleamed. “Interesting question.”
James Potter’s hands were much larger now. If he worked with his mum in her restaurant, they were probably rough—calloused from use, nicked with cuts and crevasses from an absent knife or oil burned too hot. Eleven-year-old James’s hands had been cool and soft. This James’s hands wouldn’t be.
Lily quelled a shiver.
“You—”
“James?” A server appeared out of the doorway behind him, looking frazzled. “They left behind a case of champagne. I don’t know how. The quiche is running low, and Darnell is feeling ill. What—”
“Send Darnell home. I’ll—” He let out a dissatisfied hum, glancing at Lily, then back at the server. His lips pulled into a frown. He swept a hand through his hair. “Sorry—”
Lily waved him off, though her spirits sank. “No, don’t be silly. Work calls. Feed the hungry. Go.”
He hesitated, his eyes skimming her. “Will you—we’re just catering the event tonight. Swotty and deadly dull, yeah? So you’ll probably skive as soon as you can.”
“No.” She didn’t have any reason to say it so firmly, so quickly. That was just the way it came out. “Work calls for me too. I’ll be here.”
“Yeah?” The frown righted slowly.
She couldn’t believe how ridiculous she was being. Maybe how ridiculous they were both being. She could be a serial killer, for all he knew. Did he not care for the health and safety of his own pretty little head?
Her plan had been to duck out of this conference opening mixer as soon as was physically possible. They were unbearable. That shouldn’t change.
“Yeah,” she said instead.
She was eleven years old, heart fluttering behind a tree. She was an idiot.
“Good.” His body turned, but he was still looking at her. He nodded and repeated, “Good.”
Lily lifted her hand. “Thanks for the hug. See you in thirteen years?”
He smiled. “Something like that.”
She watched his back as he turned through the doorway, stared at the familiar mop of hair until it disappeared around the next corner.
She pivoted on her heels slowly, feeling silly and prickly.
In her pocket, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out and absently glanced at the screen.
She laughed.
James Potter had requested to follow her on Instagram. And he sent her a message.
You didn’t grow up ugly either, Lily Evans, it read.
She was twenty-four years old, heart fluttering in the middle of a hotel.
She shook her head, and pressed ACCEPT.
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bloodycassian · 3 years
Text
Little bit smutty! Part 2ish of hellish Reader x cassian
You stared at him. He stared back. And the rest of them stared at both of you.  His eyes did not leave yours for an instant. Even when the door slammed shut from a cold wind. Shapes moved in the corner of your vision, but you stayed locked with Cassian. Your shared link was currently a courting battle. A dance of thoughts and feelings, mixed emotions and fear. The fear mainly from your side. And he was trying to comfort you.
"What's going on?" Someone whispered. A small voice, but concerned.  A huff of breath, and they were shuffling out of the room. Leaving you and the war lord alone. You could still hear them from the kitchen, but you let it fade. You let yourself be drawn back on that platform where his presence waited for you. You closed your eyes.
"Where are you from?" He asked, too casual to be normal. His mind was protected, but he had opened that connection just enough to be able to ask you questions. "You think I'm going to answer that after your friend nearly killing me?" You said, dancing your essence around him in a tickling way.
He rumbled, that earthy tone of his presence was warm. Welcoming, as if he was made just for you to come home to. "If I had known-" He began, but you cut him off with a sharp shove of force. "You would have what? Not almost killed him?" 
He sighed, exasperated. Shame roiled in his gut, but he knew what had to be said. He pushed down the feelings of guilt for what he had done to his brother.  "Brother?" You inquired, surprised. "You look nothing alike." Which was neither a good or bad thing. They were both some of the most gorgeous males you'd ever seen. Much better looking than the warriors at home who only worked on the muscles visible. You could tell he was built, a lithe warrior through and through. You tried not to imagine him shirtless. A booming heat raced down the line, and you tried your best to get away from those thoughts. He shifted on the couch.
"Metaphor. Tell me how we can help you." He was upfront, straight to the point and you appreciated it. However, you weren't going to give up your assignment just because you'd met a male that happened to be your mate. The Witches would burn you alive. Or turn you into a wicked monster for the rest of eternity. You shivered at the ideas that they could draw to life.
You scowled, "You mean how I can help your court, right?"
"You tell me. You seem pretty freaked out about whoever you're doing this for." He said with a sly tone. You felt yourself burn, rage and embarrassment lurching forward. A quiver of humor ran down the line that connected you. You tried to shut it out, to somehow cut off that connection.
"Sorry honey, we're stuck with this now." He said aloud, breaking you away from that dark bridge. You cracked your eyes slowly, wishing it was all a dream. His cocky expression made your heart soar, and your muscles burn with the urge to hit him. 
+  
It was a struggle for Cassian to leave you. Especially to leave you with Amren. He warned her that if anything happened there would be helll to pay. She merely waved a hand and told him to piss off. He was fighting himself and everyone else, it seemed. 
"We cannot have them here with so little knowledge of-" Azriel stopped when Cassian entered, his boots thudding against the familiar wooden floor. He looked away, ashamed. Rhys was trying his best to keep himself under control and consider the mating bond. Tried to make himself think back to the first weeks of his and Feyre's taking place. The possessiveness, the hunger. He looked at his brother in a new light, being able to control his urges was a battle even Rhys hand't won. "Az, I'm sorry." Cassian said through his teeth. He was tired of the guilt, of the way Azriel dared not speak around him. "Can you please just-"
"Not until we have your bond...figured out." Rhys interrupted. He looked Cassian up and down in a way that made Cas feel dirty. 
"Theres nothing to figure out, Rhys. My mate is just an assassin sent to kill my own brother, and now we dont know if there's a scouting party out for us or not." "I know Cassian, it's not about the threat. It's about you." Rhys met his brothers eyes, saw the smoldering there. Azriel only glanced to Rhys, then wrapped those shadows around himself and left. He ascended the stairs slowly, not daring a glance in your direction. You could see the shadows crawling after him like a loyal pet. 
It gave you goosebumps to watch. You stared at the small female that was assigned to watch over you. She sipped from a paper cup like it was salvation. "Good wine?" You asked, nodding to her hand. 
She glanced between it and you, then trilled a long laugh.
+ Cassian knocked on your window that night. Rhys had refused to allow you to sleep in the same house together, especially since you were locked up. He feared Cassian would break down the entire house trying to get to you if he had any...urges. 
Your heart raced when your eyes met his through the glass. His smile was bright against the dark sky. "What do you want?" You hissed, trying to make sure he heard the quiet rage in your voice. 
"Come on, I wont tell." He gripped the windowsill, and held a hand out for you. He reached down that bond and caressed your spirit with a warm, golden light. Hope, and joy. Your stomach flipped. And without thinking, you let him take you into the night. You found flying with him exhilitarting, and relaxing. The soft sway that carried you nearly put you to sleep. The mind bridge was silent, as if it was waiting for something. His siphons glowed a happy amber that lit up the water when he coasted over a small lake. Then he landed, the rocks on the bank making nearly zero noise. 
And the breath was knocked from you. The tall mountain eclipsing the stars themselves was reflected in the lake in perfect clarity. The stars shimmered around it, framing the snow capped peaks. There was a brush of cold wind that made you wrap your arms around yourself. Then, Cassian was there. "May I?" He asked, holding a long sleeved tunic up. You hadn't noticed the bag he packed before. You nodded, and let him guide the sleeves over your arms. 
He brushed your hair off of your neck and you felt it then. The hot rush that snapped in your core. He stilled completely, that bridge alight with heat that was never there before. Your neck tingled, practically begging for him to touch you again. Your skin was too hot. 
His words began tumbling out before he could think. "I'm sorry I-" Nerves pricked at his stomach, making him nearly nauseous with disgust at himself. Stupid. Stupid male taken over by instinct and nothing else. He was risking his entire court for one person. His mate, though. He tried to shake the reasoning away, but it was undeniable.
"Touch me." You managed to whisper. Your eyes wide, you dared not look at him. If you did you feared you would be the one taking him instead of the other way around. You stared out toward the icy peaks. 
He hesitated long enough for your eyes to dart to his, to see the full blown pupils there. His siphons flared, and you couldn't hold back the flare of desire any longer. He met you half way, lips crashing into yours. It was a competition, who could get the other to moan first. You were determined to win.
He flicked his tongue over your lip. You growled and ripped his tunic off, exposing the muscled torso underneath. You pulled away, wanting to taste him everywhere, anywhere. He kept you at bay, watching you for only a second before a wicked grin appeared. "My turn." He growled, his voice deep and husky. 
He pulled off your shirt and traced a long line down your side, earning a hiss from you. Then, he stopped. Suddenly, coldly.  "You're-" His mouth fell open at the tattoo on your sternum. The sigil that marked you with what you were. You had forgotten completely. You rushed a hand to his hair, pulling back sharply. "Shut up and fuck me." You demanded. Despite his unease, he obliged with a cocky grin.
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Text
Show off.
summary: artemis likes to show his daddy off and harry takes every opportunity to make his son proud.
word count:
based on these requests:
"for the single parent series, could there be one where harry and the reader go to artemis’ school for like parent teacher interviews or like harry goes for a school father’s day kinda thing? thanks!"
and
"wait so what about artemis like showing his daddy off🥺 cause that bb just knows how awesome his dad is and he wants everyone to know it"
and
"For my shy little boy can you write something were parents go to schools to talk about their jobs and Artemis chooses Harry and introduces him as his that and harry gets all mushy and happy to talk about his job and tells funny/cute stories about Artemis and Y/n while they were on the road with him. Please."
and
"hi I love my shy little boy series! could you write something about Artemis calling or telling his friends at school that Harry’s his dad or like Harry attends Artemis school event??"
a/n: hi! sorry for taking so long, i haven't been inspired lately but here we are again! hope you enjoy!
you can find more of my shy little boy here
*:・゚✧ ✧゚・: *:・゚✧ ✧゚・:
November, 2019.
Starting on a new school has never been easy, especially if school year has already started and you’re the last one to join. Making the decision of putting Artemis in another school wasn’t an easy one, but surely the most practical one. After moving in with Harry, Artemis’ school ended up too far from home, so his parents made the decision to choose another one that was closer to their house.
It was hard at first, the poor boy would cry trying to convince his mummy to let him stay, sometimes faking having the flu or a headache. Y/N would sigh and try to explain to him how he had to put on a little effort, she understood it was hard for him to leave his teacher, his friends, a routine he was already used to. However, closing off and refusing to talk to his classmates didn’t make things better.
Slowly but surely, Artemis started to accept the changes. He started talking to a few kids, opening up to the idea of making new friends. He’d talk about what he liked, disliked and, of course, he’d talk about his mummy and daddy.
“My daddy says we treat people with kindness!”
“My mummy packs me breakfast every day.”
Those were some of the things he’d usually say to his classmates. However he held back a little when it came to talk about Harry, having his mummy explain to him before how not everybody had the best intentions when it came to them, so sometimes it was better to not say too much. But Artemis couldn’t help it, he loved his daddy too much.
One day, he was at school sitting beside one of his friends, a little girl named Allison. The teacher had giving them permission to use the last minutes of the class to do whatever they wanted, and Artemis was coloring a book next to his friend.
"What's your daddy's name?" The girl asked.
"Harry," He smiled. "Harry Styles."
Much to his surprise, the blonde girl let out a high-pitched laugh while shocking her head. “No, he isn’t.” She stated. “Harry Styles’ a rock star. That’s what my mummy says.”
Artemis furrowed. At this point, he was well aware what his daddy’s job was, but to him Harry’s always been a normal person. The man who dated his mummy and now was his dad too. “He is!” Allison just shook her head again, making her pigtails move as well. It frustrated the boy how she seemed to not believe him, when he was obviously telling the truth.
So he crossed his arms across his chest, pouting. The teacher has noticed the little disagreement the kids had, and she secretly took the girl’s side. It had been a little over a month since Artemis had arrived to the school and she was yet to meet the boy’s dad, as Y/N was always the one who picked him up. Soon enough, the parents of the children started to show up, and the classroom became emptier.
There were a few kids left besides Artemis that were still waiting to be collected when Harry showed up. He was excited to meet his son’s teacher since he wasn’t able to before, he’s been pretty busy since the album release was approaching therefore his time was being consumed by meetings and last minute trips to the studio. He walked down the hallway with a big smile on his face, looking down at all the small humans with their parents. He must admit, if there was one thing he didn’t like about Artemis’ new school, it would be the uniforms. The tiny, navy blue polo his son had to wear under the long sleeve shirt with the logo of the school embroidered on his shirt was a little too formal on his opinion, but it was part of the rules.
Harry’s smile grew at the sight of his son waiting for him. “Daddy!” Artemis was the one who spotted him first, getting up from his chair and running towards him. “You came!”
“Of course I came.” Harry said, his hands ran through the mop of curls Artemis had. “Go for your bag, I’ll say hello to your teacher.”
Artemis did what his daddy told him, and when he passed next to Allison, he made an ‘I told you so’ expression. “Told you I wasn’t a bloody liar!” The little girl opened her mouth in offense, but to be fair she didn’t believe him when he told her.
“Hi, I’m Artemis’ dad.” Harry offered the teacher a smile as they shook hands. It was still surreal to him introducing himself as a father, and it never failed to put a smile on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier, things have been a little hectic at work and I’ve been out of town.”
“Uh, It-it’s okay. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Styles.” The woman in front of him was nervous and he was sure she wasn’t aware who Artemis’ father was. “I don’t know if you’ve received the email yet, but we’re having a small gathering with the parents on Wednesday so they could come talk about their jobs to the kids and stuff.”
He nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to my girlfriend about it but you’ll see either of us here.” He gave her one last smile before he took Artemis’ hand in his. “Let’s go, baby. Say bye to your teacher.”
“Bye!” The little boy waved to her before turning his attention back to his daddy. They walked outside of the school at to his car, Harry listening closely to what Artemis was telling him. “Allison didn’t believe you were my daddy!”
“She didn’t?” He asked as he lifted Artemis to put him on his car seat. “Why wouldn’t she?”
“She said her mummy told her you were a rock star or something.” He shrugged. “But you can be both right? A rock star and my daddy?”
“Of course I can be both!” He exclaimed, kissing the top of his head.
//
Harry carried Artemis’ backpack inside while the small boy ran towards the living room, in look for his mummy. “She’s in her office, mate.”
“Is she working?” Harry hummed in confirmation.
While Y/N was working in her office, Harry helped Artemis clean up before they started lunch together. When the food was ready, she finally came out of the room and went to find her boys. “Hello, darlings.” She said.
“Mummy!” Artemis ran towards his mum and gave her a hug.
The family of three ate happily, conversation never dying down because of the small bubble of joy that couldn’t stop talking with his parents. He’d talk until he became too tired he had to be put down to his afternoon nap. Harry was putting everything in the dishwasher when Y/N came back down, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.
“I met Artemis’ teacher today.” She hummed in response. “She uh, did she tell you about the parent thingy?”
“What?”
“You know, where parents go talk to the kids about their jobs.”
“Oh, I didn’t think they’d do that.”
“Have you gone to one?”
“Yeah, last year at Artemis’ old school. It was fun.”
“It’s on Wednesday.”
“I think it will be good if you go.” Harry turned around to see her, thinking she wasn’t serious. “What? You don’t think so?”
“No, no. It’s not that. I just thought you’d want to go.”
“I’m sure Artemis would want you there, your job is more interesting.” She joked, making hum frown.
“That’s not true.”
“You’re right. But i still think you should go."
//
Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the classroom. He has has a little wardrobe crisis trying to decide what should he wear to the event. He didn't want to be too formal, quickly deciding that a suit wouldn't be the his first choice. But he didn't want to be too casual either, his job might not require a tux and a tie but showing up in sweatpants and a hoodie wasn't a choice either. So he settled for a pair brown slacks that he paired with a white button up shirt and some gucci loafers.
He wanted to make his son proud so he has also prepared for any questions the kids might have. He didn't consider his job to be more important than the others, but the children would probably be interested when a man with an unconventional job walks in.
There were already a few parents standing in one side of the classroom when he arrived, and a man was in the middle of explaining what he did for a living while standing in the middle of the room. Harry immediately spotted Artemis sitting on a chair, however he was looking around the room trying to find his daddy.
When his hazel eyes met Harry's green ones, the little boy smiled widely, glad he was finally there. Harry made him a sign, silently telling him to pay attention to the other parents until it was Harry's turn.
It had been fifteen minutes since he arrived and he was finally next in line. Currently, a middle aged woman was explaining how she was an accountant and trying to make numbers sound interesting to a bunch of five year olds. Nonetheless, Harry clapped when the woman finished talking and that encouraged the kids to clap too.
The teacher made him a sign and Harry stepped in the middle of the room. "Hello, my name's Harry."
"That's my dad!" He heard Artemis exclaim from his seat.
"That's right." He chuckled. "I'm uh, i'm a musician, which means i make music for a living." He started saying. "We all like music, right?" The children cheered. "I love music, and the reason why i do what i do is to try and make people feel something through my music." Harry was actually trying to make it interesting, so he decided to add a twist. "My job also makes me travel the world constantly."
"Have you been to Japan?" One boy asked.
"I have, yes. I like to learn from the countries I visit, and Japan is one of our favorites. Right, pal?" He looked at Artemis for confirmation. "Last time I was there, I took my family to this beautiful place to eat. Unfortunately, they didn't have forks and we had to eat everything with chopsticks. My... girlfriend didn't know how to use them, and in one wrong move she sent flying a piece of sushi to the table next to us, can you believe it?!" The kids laughed.
"What else do you do?"
"I tour the world, and bring my music anywhere I can. Have you ever been to a concert?" Some kids nodded and some others shook their heads. "Well, concerts are a lot of fun, you'll see when you get older. One time i forgot my passport at home, and couldn't get on my flight. I had a concert to give!"
"And what did you do?"
"Artemis here delivered it, right son?" The curly haired boy nodded shyly at his dad.
"Where do you get your inspiration from?" One little girl asked, raising her hand before speaking.
He smiled, not expecting that question from a child. "From life, honestly. As you get older you try and find a way of expressing yourself and art is very important. You see, there's a lot of ways we can comunicate without having an actual conversation. It can be through a painting, or a poem, perhaps even dancing. I chose to do it on a song. What i write about? Things that makes me happy. And what makes me happy? Well, that's easy. My family."
☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁
taglist!
@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs @megaprincesscakes
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gamerwoo · 3 years
Text
[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Nine)
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Characters: Hansol x female reader
Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, mostly angst BUT there’s some fluff especially toward the end (it’s still kinda angsty fluff but like it’s still fluff ok i promise)
Word count: 3,385
Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.
a/n: things in bold are in english and things in italics are a dream
Previous | Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist
Nobody was surprised when you left after lunch. You didn’t even look at Hansol when you thanked everyone for lunch before quickly leaving the house to go wherever it was you went during the day. So Hansol waited for you outside. He laid back and watched the clouds as they slowly rolled through the sky. When the sun started to set, he went inside to get a sweater because Soomin was giving him a hard time about it. He also unpacked everything he’d grabbed from your old pack’s house, placing clothes on top of the dresser, making sure they were neatly folded, and putting pictures in various parts of the room so you could look at them. And then he put the blanket on the end of the bed, deciding you could choose what you did with it.
Before he left the room, he grabbed you a new sweater to wear. Then he found himself back outside again, waiting. 
And that’s how you found him. It was only a couple hours until midnight when you returned to the house. Hansol was sitting on the lawn in the same place you’d found him the night before, except you could smell your brother’s scent mixed with his. You didn’t know why or what he’d done, but you were ready to start asking why he smelled so much like Jiung. However, when you finally stood about two feet away, just staring down at him, all you did was stare. You, for some reason, didn’t get angry.
Hansol looked up at you before handing you the grey sweater. You stared at it for a beat of silence before you slowly reached out to touch it. It was soft and still smelled exactly like Jiung, unlike the sweater currently adorning your body. The scent on your current one was starting to fade.
You took off your sweater, your t-shirt riding up, but Hansol wasn’t staring. Then you tossed yours in Hansol’s lap before taking the new one and tugging it on over your head. The sleeves were too long as you expected, but you preferred it like that. 
“Where’d you get this?” you finally asked, your voice quiet.
Hansol seemed surprised you spoke to him, but his voice didn’t waver, “I went to give the ring to the pack today. I brought some stuff from there for you and left it in your room.”
That caught you off guard, “…For me?”
“Yeah,” he nodded with a soft smile. He pushed himself to stand up. “Do you want to go see?”
You let him lead you into the house and up the stairs. The entire place was silent, which was surprising to you since there were so many werewolves. Then again, they all seemed to have their own rooms, which meant not many people to talk to at night before bed, so they had no reason to be noisy – unless other things were happening, but you’d rather not hear that.
Hansol opened the bedroom door and allowed you in first. Immediately, your nose was attacked with familiar smells from your old pack, and from Jiung. Your eyes landed on multiple pictures – both in and out of frames – sweaters, and the familiar blanket that your mother had made for Jiung. 
The first thing you did was look at the pictures. Some were yours, but some were Jiung’s. There were a few of you and your family, including one you hadn’t seen in years, but it was Jiung’s favorite: you and him at age six, standing up against a wall at your parents’ house as one of your older siblings measured your heights. You and him were the same height back then. After that, you both got hit with growth spurts, but he shot up faster and higher than you. He was the tallest in the house, and you were pretty sure he was even taller than Mingyu.
There was another picture you looked at that you had only seen as a child. You didn’t know that Jiung even still had it, but here it was: the picture of your birth parents. You knew it was left with you when you were abandoned, but you didn’t know if your adoptive parents had thrown it out or left it behind or if it simply got lost at some point between all the family trips.
“You know,” Hansol spoke up. You turned around, expecting him to be right behind you, but he was still standing between the room and the hallway, “I don’t know if you resent your birth parents, but you look a lot like them.”
You carefully set the picture back down where you got it, keeping your eyes on Hansol, “What if I do resent them?”
He just shrugged, “I’d still tell you the truth.”
You had to admit, you respected his answer. At least you knew he wouldn’t say something he didn’t mean just to please you.
You turned your entire body to face him, letting out a deep sigh, “I’m…gonna shower.”
“Okay,” he nodded, stepping away from the doorway. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Goodnight, _____.”
He turned and left, not expecting you to say anything in reply.
You went down the hall and found the bathroom was mostly the same as well. There were new toiletries and a few new towels, but you knew at least the shower worked all the same.
After scrubbing yourself clean of way too many days worth of dirt and grime, you got out of the shower, quickly dried off, and threw your underwear and sweater back on. You carried the rest of your clothes back to your room with you before tossing them in a hamper placed in the corner of the room.
Right before you got into bed, your eyes caught the blanket on the end of the bed. While part of you wanted to cuddle with it for the night, another part of you knew that touching it would erase more of the scent. So you took the blanket and placed it over the back of the chair before going to get into bed. You leaned over to shut off the lamp, closed your eyes, and waited for sleep to take you.
-
You hoped for another dreamless sleep, praying the nightmares were over. But of course, with your shitty luck, you found yourself back at the burned rubble where Eunjin had found you. Only this dream felt different; it felt…real. But you knew you weren’t awake because rain was pelting your skin, and you always felt uncomfortable in the rain. Rain made it difficult for you to use your power, so you tried to avoid it as much as possible. Except this time, the rain felt…nice.
Like most of your dreams lately, you felt like you were being watched. You never knew who or what it was that kept its eyes on you, but it didn’t feel like it was anything menacing. You usually elected to ignore it anyway.
“_____?”
Your head whipped around to see Jia, the blind mate. However, she was walking on her own, and her eyes stared directly at you instead of through you. You’d heard about her through Danbi and Mingyu, but you never thought she’d find herself in your dream. Was she the one watching you? Was she the reason this dream felt so real this time?
“Jia?” you took a cautious step toward her. “What’s happening?”
Jia just shook her head, “I’m not doing anything, _____. This is your dream.”
“Have you been in my other ones?” you asked.
She nodded, seeming unapologetic about it, “Yes, I have. I have to say, _____, I’m really worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to be worried about,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I may have freaked out once, but it was one time, and now I’m fine.”
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I think your containing a lot of your emotions. You could have a meltdown again, and–”
“I’m handling my emotions just fine, okay? Besides, Hansol–”
“I’m not talking about Hansol,” Jia interrupted, her voice a little more harsh now, “I’m talking about your brother.”
You grimaced, a low growl coming from your chest, “I don’t have any emotions toward my brother. He’s gone; he’s dead. There’s no point in having emotions toward him.”
“_____…”
While Jia did step away from you, her eyes wide and apologetic, you stalked toward her anyway as anger bubbled inside you, “Don’t talk about him, don’t say his name, don’t–”
“_____.”
This time, when your name was said, it was from a different voice. A voice that sounded way too familiar, but also way too real for you to have made it up. It was that stern ‘alpha’ voice that always got you to listen to him. But despite the tone, it tugged at your heartstrings.
You turned around, seeing Jiung standing only a few yards away with a frown on his face. He didn’t look happy to see you – he never did in your dreams – but he looked rather disappointed more than anything else. You’d seen him look angry or disgusted with you, but never disappointed.
Suddenly, you snapped back to your senses. This was a dream, and since you weren’t creating this image of Jiung, Jia was. You turned to her, snarling as your eyes started to spot red, “Stop doing that.”
Jia held up her hands in surrender, “I swear, I’m not doing that! This is your dream, I don’t have control over it.”
“_____!” Jiung’s voice was rougher now, and you felt a hand on your wrist, tugging you away from the smaller girl. He turned you to face him, is usually golden eyes now turned red. “Stop lashing out.”
“Stop!” you demanded, yanking away from his grasp. “You’re not real! Stop doing this!”
Jiung’s face softened, resting both of his hands on his shoulders, “Yes I am, _____. Don’t you remember those stories mom and dad told us? About the spirit dreams?”
“That was just some old wives’ tale or whatever,” you insisted, averting your eyes.
“So were werewolves,” he chuckled. “Does that mean you’re fake?”
You frowned, shoving your brother away from you, “You can’t even prove you’re real because you’re probably just a figment of my imagination – I already know everything the real Jiung would.”
“I know what happened to your doll when we were seven,” he replied with a mischievous grin.
Slowly, your gaze shifted to look at him, mumbling, “Mom gave it to charity, she told me so.”
“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, “Sabira stole it and ended up getting in a tug-of-war match with the neighbor’s dog. Ask mom, she’ll tell you because she tried to stitch it back together before she had to toss it.
“I also know you never knew Saebyeol’s birth name was Sabira because she only used her birth name when dad would take her to visit India once a year,” he continued, his smile still bright and toothy, just how you remembered when he just knew he was right.
You didn’t know what kind of expression you wore, but you couldn’t stop staring at your brother. How did he know things even you didn’t know? Unless he was making it up somehow? Maybe you were making things up in your head that he could tell you in an attempt to convince you he was real. If so, this figment you or Jia had created was a fantastic liar. But it just seemed too…real.
Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from tossing yourself in your brothers arms, hugging him as tight as you possibly could as his warm, familiar laugh filled your ears and made your heart swell.
You suddenly pulled away from him, holding him at arms length, “Are you dumb, or what?”
“Huh?” he chuckled.
“Ordering Hanbin to take Hansol instead of you! Are you stupid?!”
Jiung shook his head, “_____, you need Hansol, not me.”
“I don’t need him!” you burst, pushing your brother away from you. “I need you! I hate Hansol for getting you killed. I don’t want to even be in this stupid pack!”
“_____,” Jiung sighed, “I know that’s not how you really feel.”
Jia also knew it wasn’t how you really felt. She’d seen your dreams – your dreams where it was all made up – and you’d get angry and scream and call Jiung dumb for leaving you. You’d never say anything nasty about Hansol in your dreams. Never; not once. In fact, when he showed up was when you’d calm down.
It wasn’t Hansol you were angry with, it was your brother. You’d just buried that fact and hid it with your anger that you’d projected onto Hansol. She wasn’t even sure if you knew that, though.
“You don’t know how I feel!” you frowned, stomping your foot like a child.
“_____,” Jia’s voice was soft as she slowly came up behind you, unsure of how you’d react. She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder, and it felt a lot colder than your skin – you were burning up, in fact, “it’s okay to be mad at Jiung…”
“I’m not mad at Jiung, I’m–!” you cut yourself off, feeling every kind of negative emotion suddenly hit you in a massive wave. Anger, sadness, confusion, fear – you felt it all, and it made you want to be sick or burst out crying or both.
“It’s okay,” Jia nodded, “you have to let it out. Tell him how you feel.”
Your hands balled into fists at your side, your nails digging into your skin. You felt a dull pain because of it, which was weird because you’d never felt any physical pain in your dreams. Your jaw clenched and your eyes slightly stung from tears pricking at them, wanting to just come out.
“It’s okay, _____. He went back for Hansol and told him to go instead. You feel like he left you, and you’re mad. It’s okay to be mad, just let it out.”
Staring at what may or may not have been the spirit of your brother in front of you, the wave of emotion finally broke down every wall you’d built up.
“How could you leave me?!” you demanded. You felt like you wanted your body to just burst into flames to throw right at Jiung’s stupid, dead face. You knew your skin was sparking at least, from the way Jia gasped and jumped back. “How could you just let yourself die like that, huh?! You were supposed to stay with me and protect me, and you just fucking let yourself die, and for what? For me to imprint? For me to be happy?”
You punctuated each sentence with a shove to your brother, your hands pushing against his chest and shoulders. He just let you do it, taking each shove as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. It only made you more angry.
“Well I’m not happy! I’m angry! I’m– I’m hurt and I’m scared, and I hate you! I hate you because I don’t even know if you’re real, and I hate you because you won’t even show one goddamn emotion right now!”
Jiung shook his head, his expression almost cocky, “That’s not why you hate me, _____. You and I both know it”
You let out a scream that didn’t even sound like yourself. You were sobbing and hitting him wherever your fists landed. You were hitting him with all the strength you could muster, but you knew that the flames from your fists wouldn’t do anything to him. He was dead, anyway.
“I hate you for leaving me!” you cried. “You left me, and you didn’t even stop to think about how I’d feel when you made the decision to let yourself get killed! You left me, and you don’t even care! You left me, Jiung! You fucking left me!”
Jiung smiled softly, his eyes shining, “There it is.”
“I hate you!” you told him again, shoving him so hard he actually hit the ground. Even he looked surprised. “Why did you leave me? Why, why, why, why?!”
You fell to your knees, sobs shaking your body, but it was also from anger toward Jiung.
“I hate you. I hate you. I– I–”
“_____!”
Your eyes flew open, and you felt weight pressing down on your arms, but you weren’t laying down. You were sitting up in bed, your back against the headboard as tears streamed down your face. Hansol was on the side of the bed, one foot still on the floor with a knee on the mattress as he held your hands in his. There was bits of frost covering your blanket and the backs of Hansol’s hands, and your fists and wrists felt wet like someone had shoved your hands in water.
Hansol’s eyes were full of concern as he looked at you. He’d heard you screaming and crying, and it woke him up from downstairs. By the time he’d raced up the stairs, almost the entire pack had opened their doors, looking down the hall at your door in concern. Hansol just ignored them, throwing open the door and closing it behind him as he took in the scene before him: your blanket covered in tiny spots of flame, and your fists already completely on fire. He managed to put out the bedding before his hands wrapped around yours, making the flames go out with a sizzle.
Your muscles relaxed slowly as you realized you were awake, and Jiung – if it even was him – was gone. But then the massive throbbing in your head registered, and you broke down crying all over again.
“He left me!” you sobbed, your head hanging as Hansol kept a hold on your wrists. “I hate him!”
Hansol let go of your wrists when he realized you weren’t going to fight him, crawling beside you to wrap his arms around you. You clung to him like your life depended on it, sobbing into his bare chest. He shushed you and rubbed your back, unsure of what exactly happened, but he knew it had to do with Jiung. He was just a bit surprised you were aiming your anger toward your brother and not him.
“Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay,” he cooed softly, pulling you into his lap when he felt your arms wrap around him. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
“I hate him,” you kept repeating into Hansol’s neck.
“I know, you’re allowed to be angry at him,” he told you, dipping his head down to try to get you to look at him. “But getting all of this out now will help you to not hate him later.”
You lifted your head slightly to look at Hansol. You heard the soft whine he let out when he saw your face red and covered with tears. He brushed some of the moisture away with his thumb, his face looking genuinely hurt seeing you upset. It made you want to cry all over again. You’d pushed all your anger onto Hansol when you were really just mad at Jiung. And you knew you didn’t really have a reason to be mad at Hansol, you just wanted to give yourself one because you couldn’t be mad at your brother who had died.
You felt awful.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, trying not to start crying even harder, but looking at how Hansol looked like a kicked puppy just because you were sad made you feel like an ass – and you were one. “I-I don’t hate you.”
Hansol nodded, brushing hair from your face, “I know, _____; it’s okay.”
He pulled you to his chest once again, letting you get all your tears out. Even when he heard Eunjin screaming, he continued to hold you like nothing was happening. Once you’d finally calmed down and had no more tears left, he slid down into bed, laying you down to sleep.
As you felt him pulling the blankets over you, you mumbled sleepily, “If you leave, I won’t blame you.”
While Hansol wasn’t sure if you just meant for tonight or in general, his answer was still the same.
“I’m not going to leave, I promise.”
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strawberrysoup · 4 years
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Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 3
You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.
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pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 3.4k chapters: 3/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. 
Tony had presented as a delta at twelve, much to his father’s insurmountable disdain. Howard Stark had gone to great lengths to ensure himself an alpha prime for a son—he’d spent years hunting down the perfect omega, who proceeded to have almost unheard of difficulties getting pregnant. After a grueling pregnancy, said omega had the gall to have massive complications during birth that meant she’d never carry another pup. The fact that Tony couldn’t even do the simplest thing right—present as an alpha prime, like himself, like Captain America—was just heinous.  
But for all of his intelligence, Howard Stark had been a moron. Being a delta came with a slew of advantages over alphas, over alpha primes even. His heightened empathy was an extraordinary tool, his intuition was nearly on par with an omegas. Sure, he wasn’t as dominant as an alpha but he could hold his own in most situations. Alpha orders rarely worked on him, at the very least. He could induce an omega’s heat and even if he couldn’t completely sate an omega during that time as he lacked a knot, deltas were critical in giving alphas periods of rest during the week-long estrous.  
If an omega was the glue that held a pack together, deltas built the foundations. Their ability to support packmates on multiple levels was crucial—just like an omega, they were able to understand their packmates deeply and act as conduits and facilitators.  
He’d never been called a manipulator before. Especially not by a sweet-faced omega with surprisingly sharp little fangs. He supposed that most deltas were considered more… cunning than other presentations. Tony preferred the terms suave or charismatic, if he was being honest. Deltas were charming, dammit. But she’d reacted like he was some sort of con artist, a blink away from hiding the Queen up his sleeve.
Letting the suit catch her while he stood aside might’ve caused a bit of unnecessary distress—it was a good thing said suit was equipped with a silencer, or the shrieking would’ve brought down every alpha in the surrounding three towns. Steve had been giving him those disappointed eyebrows since he’d emerged from the woods, even after Thor and Peter took her inside to be bathed. Tony figured that was punishment enough, especially considering their omega seemed to hate him.  
“We should probably go through the car,” Steve sighed, running a hand over the back of his head—Tony knew the alpha prime didn’t want his own discontent to unsettle the rest of the pack, “thoroughly. Make sure you check for anything hidden, we’ll make stacks for what we can and can’t give back.”  
The blond shifted closer to Tony’s side, his other hand brushing against his back gently. Alpha primes weren’t as in tune with their pack’s emotions, that’s what omegas and deltas were for, but Steve and Thor put in more effort than any other’s Tony had ever encountered. They’d waited for him to arrive after all, instead of converging on the scared omega in a group of two alpha primes and two alphas—even Bruce’s serene beta wouldn’t have been enough to calm her. Steve realized that Tony was put off, had made the effort to notice the shift in the delta’s demeanor, and moved to offer comfort if he should want it.  
“I doubt she has much,” Bruce had his arms crossed over his chest, one hand rubbing at his chin as he stared towards the house, “I can’t decide if her body chemistry is just a 180° of what it should be because of the suppressants or if there’s something else.”  
“You called her something earlier, when we were walking through the woods,” the blond had already started pulling bags from the back of her Tahoe, setting them gently on the ground so that his delta and beta could begin looking through them, “you called her classical?”  
“Classical presenting omegas? It’s a theory that started cropping up in the late nineties,” Tony’s hand bobbed slightly in the air, “widely debated in accuracy. There have been very, very few case studies but they’re pretty promising—essentially, we’re looking at traits that were bred out of omegas a thousand years ago or more that are starting to crop up again due to environmental and cultural stressors.”  
“Or,” Bruce sent the delta a stern look, “it could be the result of genetics; omegas on both sides of the family likely went extremely scarce, to the point of nonexistence. Both parents must’ve carried the same near ancient recessive genotypes, the alleles would’ve had to match up perfectly in order to produce offspring with those traits.”  
“Like I said, it’s widely debated,” Tony rolled his eyes affectionately at the beta, riffling through the bag at his feet, “either way, our omega is displaying traits that haven’t been prominent since the 10th century.”  
“What do we need to do? What do we need to watch out for?” If alpha primes were only good for one thing, it was determining the necessary course of action for their packs’ safety and prosperity.  
“There’s no way to tell for sure exactly what we’re looking at, except for an omega who’s biology is incredibly convoluted and—” the sound Bruce made was one of disdain as he pulled a ziplock with what must’ve been at least a hundred small blue pills in it from one of her bags, “chemically altered beyond belief. How could she even get a hold of so many suppressants?”  
“She’s willful,” Steve sighed, tossing a matching baggy towards the disheveled beta, “Even Peter’s purr doesn’t affect her the way it should, it’s a good thing Thor and I coexist so well—keeping her in hand would be difficult for one prime.”  
“Jesus Christ,” Tony’s jaw dropped as he withdrew a fucking machete from one of the bags, the several hunting knives, snares, and fishing lures neatly arranged in the bag barely even shifting at the jerky movement, “can you imagine an omega using one of these?”  
“That one I can,” the blond snorted, gesturing back over his shoulder with one thumb, “if she’d managed to grab that bag we’d be a couple of packmates short.”  
“This is the one she was about to make a run with,” Bruce held up a wallet, opening it a moment later, “no debit or credit cards, driver’s license for Colorado, local library card, $200 in American money.”  
“There’s a wallet in this one too,” Steve frowned, unzipping it and peeking inside, “looks about the same, license is out of Quebec though—and another library card. No cash in this one though.”  
“I bet it’s hidden in there,” Tony stated, having already pulled out two fifty dollar bills from a small hole in the seam of the inside of his chosen bag, “oh, here’s the suppressant stash from this one.”  
The sound of tires on gravel distracted the three of them, head’s popping up to see Bucky and Carol making their way down the driveway in a dark green Jeep Wrangler. Both looked antsy and there were shopping bags piled so high in the back seat Bucky couldn’t see out of the rear view mirror. Carol was out of the car before it even came to a complete stop, coming to stand in the middle of the chaos of neatly packed bags.  
“This is all she had?” The blonde alpha questioned, frowning at the three remaining boxes and the camping equipment in the back of the Tahoe, eyes briefly passing over the contents of the bags on the ground, “good thing we went overboard with the shopping.”  
“Did you buy her any clothes?” Bruce questioned, looking at a faded, threadbare old t-shirt he’d just withdrawn from the bottom of the duffle, “everything she has is either full of holes or has been washed so much it’s practically see through.”  
“We bought everything,” Bucky answered as he dropped down from the lifted Jeep, “clothes, toiletries, collars, nesting supplies—we grabbed some of those omega diet essentials too, the vitamins and the powder stuff they’re supposed to have.”  
“She inside?” Carol interjected before the conversation could be continued, “I wanna see her.”  
“Thor and Peter took her inside to get cleaned up about 10 minutes ago, Sam’s starting on dinner,” Steve stepped to the side and motioned the two towards the house, “be gentle, she’s… she’s having a hard time.”  
“Have we figured out how long she’s been hiding for?” Bucky ignored his friend’s gesture, turning back towards the Jeep to retrieve several bags, “Wanda told us what sizes to buy but wouldn’t say anything else about her.”  
“This ID says she’s thirty-two,” Steve flicked the plastic ID, having dropped the rest of the wallet back in the bag, “Bruce, what did the one you had say?”  
“Twenty-nine,” the beta’s response was quick enough that the alpha prime knew he’d memorized the details of the ID and anything else he’d found in the bag already, “there’s no telling how long she’s been on her own though—at least a few years considering how well established she is living from her car.”  
“She has two different IDs?” Carol’s eyebrow raised, taking several of the shopping bags Bucky passed her without complaint.  
“And at least a thousand doses of suppressants,” Tony snorted, “a machete, I’m pretty sure if we keep digging we’ll find a gun—”  
“Thank you Tony,” Steve cut the delta off before he could start any nonsense, “we’ve found two wallets with two IDs so far, but she’s got three more bags like this and then those boxes. We’re just trying to sort what she needs from what she doesn’t right now.”  
“How is she?” Bucky’s question was obviously directed at his fellow delta, eyes not wavering even when he saw Steve and Bruce exchange glances.  
“She called me a manipulative monster and tried to bite me.”
“There’s no telling how long she’s been hiding, or what she went through before she started hiding—or even what she’s been through while she’s been hiding,” Bruce sent the delta a look that bordered on provoked, “and you were being antagonistic.”  
“I was not, I was just—”  
“Being yourself, huh?” Carol smirked, dodging past the men and heading up the path towards the mansion before the billionaire could respond.  
“What, you guys think we should’ve waited for the sentient iceberg?” Tony jabbed his thumb towards Bucky, “his delta charm is rustier than that heap of metal we found attached to his arm after he pulled you out of the Potomac.” 
“You don’t even know what charm is yah fuckin’ grifter.”  
Steve dropped his forehead into his hand; there was a consistent theme in large packs that resulted in deltas being at each other’s throats constantly. It would only get worse when Loki arrived, the third of the trio was an entirely different breed of antagonistic. Steve was absolutely sure that all of his packmates looked upon each other with affection, at least 99% of the time, but Tony, Loki, and Bucky fought constantly without an omega’s balancing presence.  
The clearing of a throat silenced the squabbling deltas, attention immediately going to where Bruce stood with a stack of notebooks in his hand, “one of the boxes has notebooks and library books, the other has dry foods. She’s got a sleeping bag, tent, a water filtration system—anything she could need to survive in the woods or her car for an extended period of time.”  
“No notebooks or food in the go bags?” Bucky frowned, arms crossing over his chest and he shifted his weight when they all responded negatively, “I could understand why the notebooks wouldn’t be a priority to bring with her, but no food?”  
“From her supplies it looks like she’s probably a passable hunter, food would take up too much space if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Looks like she prefers hunting knives to bread and peanut butter,” the beta shrugged, motioning to the piles he’d been organizing while Steve tried to mediate the deltas squabble, “each of her bags has a wallet with an ID, cash hidden somewhere, a change of clothing, a bag of suppressants, water filtering tablets, the hunting knife, matches, a water bottle and a thermal blanket.” 
“Pragmatic,” Bucky muttered quietly as he stepped up to the trunk of the Tahoe, glancing at the box of notebooks and library books, “Neotropical Diversification, Monoco—what the fuck, Mono-coty-ledons? Avian Genomics in Ecology and Evolution, Orientation and Navigation in Vertebrates. I don’t know what half of those words even mean, and they’re titles of books.”  
“That’s all environment biology—ecology,” Tony’s eyebrows went up, “niche stuff too, higher level.”  
“Good thing there’s a lot of us to keep her brain occupied,” Bruce’s lips split into a small grin, eyes directed at the pile of knives, “otherwise she’d be difficult to manage. Whatever happened in the meantime, it seems she might’ve attended university at some point—this level of understanding is usually somewhere in a graduate program, although it’s a pretty wide variety of specific topics that aren’t generally associated with each other.” 
“They are library books,” Tony stated with a shrug, “maybe it was all she could get her hands on at this level. We did find multiple library cards, all to different library districts. The ones she has now are all from the same district—does she have any Canadian IDs?”  
“One from Quebec and one from Ontario,” the beta pointed out two bags, one of which was sitting by Steve’s feet, “those two bags. The other IDs were Colorado, Alaska, and Michigan. We’ll have to figure out which one is real, if she has a real one. The name of the housekeeper the company assigned to us matches the Ontario ID.”  
“This is insane,” Steve sighed, shoulders heaving with the breath, “she must be running from something, hiding.”  
“Wanda will tell us, I’m sure,” Bucky’s flesh hand landed on the blond’s shoulder with a clap, fingers squeezing momentarily, “for now, how about we just focus on getting her settled in the cabin with her things.”  
“Should we let her get settled here?” Bruce frowned, a worried line creasing his forehead, “I’m worried it could be detrimental, for her to adapt here and have to move to the compound once our vacation is over. As soon as she starts to get comfortable she’s gonna be uprooted all over again.”  
“We’ll discuss it tonight at dinner,” Steve spoke before anyone else could prolong the debate, “Hopefully Natasha, Clint, and Loki will get here in time. Sam’s making lasagna, said we wouldn’t be eating until late anyway. Let’s bring everything in, minus the things she doesn’t need.”  
“Nesting supplies to the laundry room?”  
“Yeah, toiletries to Nat and Wanda’s bathroom. Put her clothes with mine or Thor’s,” the blond alpha instructed, heaving several bags into each arm before turning on his heel and heading into the house, “leave the camping supplies, we’ll lock up what she doesn’t need back in the garage for now.”  
Her scent, chemically masked and altered, was emanating through the entire cabin, he could smell it the moment he stepped over the threshold. Everything looked spotless and he smiled, ducking his head slightly to hide it; he liked that the whole house smelled like his omega—their omega, who’d spent a lot of time and effort making everything look perfect for their arrival.  
Wanda and Carol were in the living room, bathed in the light of the sun just beginning its descent. The stairs, one set leading up and one down, were straight ahead, blocking the view of the kitchen, dining room, and study. The parlor to his left featured haphazardly abandoned suitcases, the rest of the pack who couldn’t quite be bothered at the moment to properly deal with their things.  
The smell got stronger up the stairs, he could hear the low rumble of both Thor and Peter’s combined purr. Their omega was in distress—alpha’s struggled when omegas were in distress and Steve imagined both were getting their hearts twisted in their chests. His packmates dispersed to follow their assigned tasks, Bruce joining Sam in the kitchen to help with dinner. Steve dropped bags at the appropriate doors in the hall before making his way through Thor’s room and into the bathroom, where the two alphas were practically piled in the tub with their omega.  
Peter sat on the edge of the tub, pants rolled up past his knees and his legs in the water where she was leant up against them. Thor was half in the water, shirt gone as he leaned over to clean the mud and grime from her skin, manipulating her limp limbs gently.  
“I take it she didn’t want a bath,” Steve murmured, eyes flashing around the half destroyed bathroom.  
“She can fight my purr more than we expected,” Peter looked almost bashful, the hand that wasn’t stroking her cheek running over the back of his head.  
“Omegas on Asgard are very similar to her,” Thor commented quietly, still focused on his task, “its why I found them so meek when I first arrived—Omegas are willful and determined. She just needs to be trained, her behavior can be corrected.”  
“I know there are omega protests sometimes, but I’ve never seen one completely reject packs,” the brunet alpha was frowning, “they have biological requirements for interaction with others—her body can’t generate certain chemicals without the necessary pheromones that the different presentations provide. It could stunt her immune system, damage hormone glands like the thyroid and—”  
“We’ll get all of that figured out Peter, we can fix anything that’s wrong with her,” Steve told himself it wasn’t a false promise, “it’ll just take time and a lot of effort. Let’s get her dressed and up to the attic. Bucky took all of the extra bedding for nesting to wash but we can make do with what we’ve got temporarily, the scents might help.”  
“Would you grab one of my shirts?” Thor asked, looking back at the other prime imploringly; it wasn’t just a simple request—Thor was asking that their shared omega be scented by his clothing first.  
Steve hadn’t been born an alpha prime. Sometimes, he felt like a delta that had been gutted and pumped with morphine—his empathy had been stolen, replaced with strength and adrenaline and aggression. He missed the part of himself that allowed him the deeper connection with others, the amount of effort he had to expend to determine the emotions of his pack made him feel like an alien (especially if they weren’t telegraphed by scent), but sometimes it was okay. Sometimes, it meant he had a wider understanding than other alpha primes because while he didn’t retain the heightened sense, he knew where to start to unravel their puzzles.  
With Thor it was easiest. All he really had to do was follow his own stream of consciousness—wanting the omega clean and warm and fed and scented. He wanted her to smell like him, wanted her wrapped in his clothes, his blankets, he wanted it beneath her skin and seeping from her pores. And so did Thor. The Aesir was asking Steve to take a loss, to not fight him for the right to scent her first.  
It was a good thing he hadn’t been an alpha prime, or the request would’ve absolutely ended in some sort of dominance display. Aggression had immediately surged though his chest at the question, the challenge, the demand, he needed to prove he deserved it more—Steve shook his head firmly, cleared his throat, and rolled his shoulders back before making eye contact with the other prime.  
“Sure thing, any in particular?”  
There was relief on Thor’s face, along with understanding; he was fully aware of the sacrifice Steve was making and the effort it took to make it, “I know you’ll chose the right thing.”  
They didn’t realize their omega was practically having an out of body experience­—that she felt like she was hovering over her own body, watching in horror as the two alpha primes who’s mingled scents she was sure marked each and every one of their packmates, communicated like real people. The suppressants hadn’t completely brutalized her scent receptors or hindbrain; she’d known there was something too much about the blond alphas, something that whispered to her omega senses. They were alpha primes and that was a nightmare.
Because alpha primes weren’t supposed to co-habitate. They didn’t share. They were aggressive, territorial, verging on violent. The idea that the two had somehow weaseled their way through that instinctive disposition upon meeting, had managed to form a pack—it didn’t bear thinking about. All she needed to think about was getting out quickly, before something irreversible happened and she was trapped forever. 
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forhereyesonlyyy · 3 years
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(ii) lean on me. // gfriend, cyn. // one-shot.
word count: 8.6k
author's note: this is two days late, my bad but finally, this is the continuation of 'lean on me'! tell me if you guys think i did well on this because i think i slacked off a little more than i did in the first part 😭 just like last time, the next, and final, part will be posted next week! enjoy!
tags: high school au, fluff, slow burn, angst, enemies to friends to lovers.
tw: injury, violence, bullying.
previous: (i) lean on me.
next: (iii) lean on me.
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It has been two weeks since that whole altercation with Yuju and during all that time, you made sure to avoid her as much as you possibly could. Whenever you see her making her way towards her locker, you immediately finish up and walk away before she can utter a word to you and whenever you crossed paths early in the morning before or after your first class, you kept your gaze elsewhere. You were pretty sure that Yuju has taken the hint now seeing that she doesn’t even bother to try to talk to you, turns out she’s not that slow.
Other than Yuju, you have been making sure to avoid Eunha as well. You would never admit it, but it really did break your heart to lose one of your only friends. You were pretty sure that she would never look at you the same way again. Even if you did try to make amends with Eunha, Sojung would immediately chase you away because she was that wary of you. Yewon tried talking to you more, bless her heart, but she was still scared that you would do something rash, which was understandable considering your horrifying streak of beating people up for no absolute reason. How did I not get expelled again?
You’ve been pretty much avoiding everybody, even Yerin who has been a real sweetheart to you after knowing what happened between you and Yuju. She joked about beating up whoever makes fun of you from now on, but you felt like this whole thing was something that you had to fix on your own. Yerin seemed so surprised to hear you say something ‘so mature than what you would normally say’, but made a promise to support you however she can. Okay Yerin, I guess you’re my friend.
Since you got rid of the arm sling some time ago, you were able to move your arms freely, but of course your casted arm was still a bother. It seems like you can’t just get used to it. You really hoped that you can recover soon. I kinda miss having two working hands.
“Fuck.” You muttered when you accidentally knocked your pencil off the table. Of course this would happen. It was seven twenty-five in the morning, you’ve developed a habit of coming to school earlier than a normal student would and as always, you were in the library. There were several early birds hanging around, but all of them were in the more popular areas of the room. You weren’t complaining though, you liked being alone early in the morning.
Taking a deep breath, you reached for the pencil with your casted arm slowly but someone else picked it up before you did. You looked up and saw Yuju who had lowered herself on the floor to get your pencil. She was free from her cast, lucky her, and from the very few times you have spared a glance in her direction for the past two weeks, Yuju has been thriving without it. Seriously, lucky her.
“Is anyone sitting here?” Yuju asked as she put the pencil back on your part of the table. You shake your head and Yuju sits down on the chair across from you, then it was dead silent. You had forgotten about the deal you made with yourself and stayed in the library, scribbling whatever that comes into your head in a paper. What am I supposed to be doing? Oh yeah, math and all that fun stuff.
While you went back to what you were doing, Yuju had opened up a novel but she wasn’t reading it. You constantly felt her eyes on you, but whenever you glance up to try and catch her, she would look back down into her novel pretending to read. It was like that for a few minutes until the clock struck seven fifty and Yuju finally decided to push through her nervousness and speak.
“I’m really sorry.”
You look up from your notebook, confused with the apology and a little exhilarated to hear Yuju’s voice after a long time once more, “What?” You asked.
You watched as Yuju awkwardly shifts in her seat, you wondered if it would be a good idea to speak first in hopes of easing the other girl’s stress but before you could open your mouth to speak, Yuju beats you to it, “I didn’t mean to say all those things to you two weeks ago.” She confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater. Despite the serious mood surrounding the two of you, you find yourself laughing lightly. Yuju seems to be taken aback by your reaction, looking around to see if there was someone around that was making you laugh. You immediately stopped laughing after seeing the bewilderment in Yuju’s eyes, composing yourself and finally coming up with words to say.
Still, you chuckled again before speaking, “What are you talking about? You were right.” You said. For the past two weeks, you’ve been thinking about what Yuju said whenever you had the time and although it hurts your pride to admit it, she was right. And so were the others when they kept telling you that constantly looking for ways to ‘prove yourself’ to everyone else will hurt you in the long run.
It had to take a broken arm and a sick scolding from some pretty girl to get it into my head… which is pretty sad now that I think about it.
Yuju shakes her head, “It wasn’t… my place. Or I could’ve at least told you in a more civil way.” She said.
“Nah, if you did that I would still be bitter and miserable and… well, I’m still those things but I would be worse, you know? I needed to be told the tough truth, or whatever they call it.” You said, once again laughing at your poor choice of words. It got across though because when you looked up from your notebook again, Yuju had a small smile on her face, for some reason.
The bell rings, and you suddenly remember that you did have a class to attend and scrambled to gather your stuff that was sprawled out all over the table. You were never the kind of person to study in your free time, so of course you would be a panicking mess.
“Can I help you?” Yuju asked, her smile still evident on her face. Right, we’re classmates. Her eyes only shined even more when you nodded. You find yourself staring at her for a couple of seconds, ignoring the erratic beating of your heart the longer you did it. Maybe it was just her eagerness to offer her aid to somebody, but something about Yuju at this moment was really making her attractive to you.
Yuju turns to you with basically all of your stuff in her arms, “Let’s go.” She said. Before you could reply, she was already making her way to the exit. You rolled your eyes and ran after her, almost forgetting your backpack. You quickly wave at the boy in charge for the morning, his name was Seokmin and you’ve gotten close to him because of the amount of times you’ve spent sulking in the library, and push through the doors, successfully catching up to Yuju.
“At least let me carry some things. What if you get hurt again? Didn’t you just take off your cast? Give me that.” You said as you attempted to grab your textbook from the pile. Yuju showed no signs of yielding, much to your dismay. You huffed, feeling a little embarrassed with the amount of weird looks you were getting from everyone else. As far as they know, you and Yuju were now mortal enemies after that whole scene weeks ago, so seeing the two of you engaging in a friendly banter was strange.
As always, Yuju smiles and greets everyone she passes by despite the incredulous looks on their faces. You hide your flushed face behind the taller girl, suddenly not finding it in you to raise your head and intimidate those who dare to even look your way. You were pretty sure that you passed by SinB and her group of friends who were as surprised as others. Yerin was definitely going to have a ball with all of this when it gets to her.
Yuju steps inside the classroom and fortunately, it wasn’t packed yet so you were saved from even more whispers. You took this chance to grab Yuju’s arm to stop her from walking any further, “I can take it from here. Hand them over.” You said, your grip tightening on her arm every second. It was enough to make her yield at least. Yuju finally allows you to carry your own stuff, but she still follows closely behind you. See, now this was getting annoying.
Although you should be appreciating what she was doing, it made you feel useless. Yeah, yeah, I’m trying to change and all that but I should be able to do this on my own! But I guess I should thank her or whatever…
When you sat down on your seat, Yuju was fixing something on her shirt. With a few breaths, you managed to grab what little courage you had at the moment and tapped on Yuju’s arm, gathering her attention. Suddenly it was you who felt weak under her stare, maybe if she wasn’t so cute I’d be fine, but you pulled through it. “...Thanks. For all that.” You said.
Yuju beamed after hearing your words of gratitude, “No problem.” She replied ecstatically. She doesn’t say anything afterwards, and neither do you, so the two of you stayed still for an uncomfortable amount of time that some of your classmates have started talking about the strange scene happening before them. Have I always been this awkward? Behavioral therapy is doing wonders for the most part but this is definitely a nerf, what the hell.
It looked like Yuju was ready to leave, but she pauses and faces you again with pink cheeks and shaking hands, “Do you have somewhere to go? At lunch, I mean.” She said. You immediately catch on to where this was going. A smirk finds its way on your lips, well isn’t this cute.
“No, why?” You asked, leaning forward with a teasing smile. From the distance, you could see Yerin watching the two of you closely with wide eyes. Of course, just like everyone else, she was surprised to see that you weren’t telling Yuju to ‘screw off’ like you would most likely do. 
“Would it be too crazy if we... hung out?” Yuju asked. She mutters something else under her breath but you couldn’t catch it. (Unbeknownst to you, she was cursing herself for not ‘going through with the plan’, whatever it was.) You pretended to think hard about it, which was what Yuju considered the most cruel ten seconds of her life.
“Maybe, but on one condition,” You say with a mischievous grin. Yuju seems to be completely clueless about the fact that you were kidding which made you feel a little bad about doing it in the first place but her reactions are too entertaining for you to stop. You gestured her to get closer, and she did, leaning down so you could put your lips close to her reddened ear. You put your hand on her right shoulder and pulled her closer, earning a squeal from Yuju herself and a whistle from the back. You shake your head as you burst out laughing, losing whatever plan you had in mind and lightly pushed the taller girl away. “Nevermind. Sit down, I’ll see you later.” You said, waving her off.
Yuju, hot and bothered after whatever the hell you tried to do, walks to her seat with a dazed expression on her face. Chaeyeon, who has been watching the whole thing from her seat, excitedly gossips to Yuju as soon as the latter sits down.
“You made up with Yuju and the first thing you do is play with her feelings. I see you didn’t change at all, (Y/N)! Still a little shit, aren’t you?” Yerin exclaimed, poking your cheek as she passed by and sat down behind you.
You turn around, “And you still manage to be annoying so early in the morning. I thought having SinB as your girlfriend after months of chasing after her would change you, but I expected too much.” You replied, smirking triumphantly when Yerin’s face dramatically heats up. While you were busy with your issues, Yerin has been the happiest girl on Earth after SinB finally gives an answer to her hundred-or-so confessions. Truth to be told, you felt envious whenever you saw SinB feeding Yerin during lunch time. They were disgustingly sweet, and they matched so well it made your heart ache with love.
“You’re right! I just hope Yuju will do better with you.” Yerin said with a suggestive wink. This time it was you who was flustered by what your friend was implying. Because that’s totally gonna happen! Stupid Yerin… and stupid me for blushing.
“Shut—”
“Yeah, yeah.”
 -
 Ten minutes before lunch time and you managed to convince your teacher to let you go early. You headed towards the library with several books in your hand. They were light and thin so it was no trouble carrying them with one hand. You never thought that you would find reading other than boring, but after Ms. Kwon forced you to read a 600-page novel that was actually interesting, you’ve been hooked. 
You tucked the books under your arm and pulled the library doors open and suddenly, you bump into someone which caused you to fall down on your ass. You instinctively had put your right hand down to catch yourself, forgetting that you were injured. You yelped when pain shot through your arm, today of all days!
“Oh my God, (Y/N), I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you, oh my God— did I kill you? Come here.” Turns out that it was Seokmin, this morning’s library keeper, who had bumped into you. He was strong enough to carry you from the ground and on top of a table, ignoring the mess that you had made outside the door. Thankfully, there was nobody else inside the library so you weren’t cautious about making noise. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop whimpering but the pain was nearly unbearable.
Tears squeezed out of your eyes and Seokmin was scrambling in front of you searching for a first aid kit or anything that could help you.
You weakly waved your other hand, “I-It’s fine. It’ll pass. Give it a few minutes.” You said. Seokmin started muttering incomprehensible nonsense mostly to himself as he walked back and forth in front of you. You rolled your eyes and let your casted arm rest at your lap, watching the boy now go in circles around the table.
Once he makes a full circle, you grab him in front of you to stop him from walking any further, “Seokmin! I’m okay!” You said, shaking him around. Seokmin sighs in relief, clutching his chest and saying something about nearly having a heart attack and turning himself to the police for ‘accidental murder’. You weren’t even sure if that was a legit crime. He tends to be dramatic, but he’s a good guy.
You see a shadow behind Seokmin, but when you look past him, whoever was out there was gone. Weird. Then you were reminded of the books you dropped by the door when you fell. Seokmin turns around and takes the books, bringing them to the bin that says ‘Book Returns’ and walking back to you.
“Please have the school nurse check this out. I mean, I’d gladly take you to the hospital like, right now but I don’t have a car and busses take forever.” Seokmin said, holding your injured arm in his hands.
You laughed at him, “Yeah, I will. Don’t worry about it.” You said, ruffling his already messy hair. He smiles brightly and then stalks back to the librarian’s seat to do his job, leaving you to your lonesome on top of the table. As much as you wanted to roam around the library and see which books you could read next, but you decided to save it for another day.
Once the pain in your arm disappeared, you hopped off the desk and headed towards the library doors once again.
“You’re not staying here for lunch?” Seokmin asked from the desk, momentarily stopping himself from scrolling through the computer in front of him. It seems like he got used to chatting with you while you ate your lunch. Sometimes you brought Yerin and joked around with both of them, but most of the time it was just the two of you.
You smiled fondly and shook your head, your heart fluttered with anticipation after being reminded of your plan for today’s lunch time, “Nope. I have a date.”
 -
 You got stood up, to say the least.
You and Yuju agreed to meet by your lockers as soon as the bell rings and you waited for at least twenty minutes before accepting the fact that you, the (Y/N) (L/N), just got stood up by a student who hasn’t even been in the school for a month. You stabbed a baby carrot with your fork rather harshly while you sat on one of the tables in the school’s outdoor eating area. When you heard the distant sound of the school bell ringing, you packed up your lunch and stormed inside the buildings. You were embarrassed, you were fuming, and you were a little sad, but you were more confused than anything.
Who knew that someone who looked like they couldn’t hurt a fly would have the guts to fool someone like you? And what exactly made her do that?!
You huffed thinking about Yuju putting up a face this whole time. It was all part of her big plan to have you who once made every single student run and hide with one single look become this pathetic weak-willed goody-two-shoes who hangs out with a cute bookworm and a prankster whose girlfriend is a badass. Yuju, when I catch you—
“Hi, (Y/N).”
You chuckled sarcastically when you heard that sweet, honey-like voice as you angrily fiddled with your lock. “Funny you show up now.” You said, shoving your food container inside your locker and pulling out your history textbook and notebook in a span of one and a half second.
“I… I’m sorry.” Yuju said. Now why does she sound genuine? Did she not do this on purpose? Is this another trick?! You clicked your tongue and turned to face the tall girl and to your surprise, she looked pissed. Rather than questioning it, you mirrored her expression. She does not look sorry. She sounds like it, but her pretty face says otherwise!
You turn away from her again, busying yourself with your locker, “Right.” You said through gritted teeth. Okay, (Y/N). Chill out. It’s not that deep. No need to go off on her, maybe she has a valid reason! As much as you wanted to listen to your better inner voice, you couldn’t help but ignore it. There has only been one person who was able to get you embarrassed and that was your older brother. Adding Yuju to that short list of ‘getting back at them’ was nothing short of a challenge. And you loved challenges. You practically thrived at taking on challenges.
“Don’t look so mad.” Yuju said. It only made your anger burst through the ceiling. You hate it when people tell you to ‘chill out’. (That was the reason you ignored your inner voice in the first place!) You slammed your locker shut out of habit. You didn’t want to scare Yuju, or make her think that you were going to hurt her over a stupid rejection, so when she flinches slightly, you softened a little. You put the lock with a little more care and faced the taller girl.
You bit on the inside of your cheek as you thought of something to say. Do you even need to say anything? You aren’t even willing to know why Yuju stood you up now. All you cared about was getting your revenge, which was probably bad. See, this is why I should never get myself tangled up with girls that I know will break my heart— what do I even mean by that?! I blame Yerin for all of this.
“Don’t you think it’s a little cruel to make a girl wait when you’re the one who asked her out in the first place?” You spoke softly, avoiding eye contact.
Yuju huffed, shrugging her shoulders so that the straps of her backpack wouldn’t slide off, “Was I supposed to find out about your boyfriend on my own? Well, I just did, but it would’ve helped a lot if you enlightened me about him beforehand.” She said. You stopped listening after she said the word ‘boyfriend’. Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Now what kind of drug is this girl on?
After not hearing a response from you, Yuju laughs bitterly, “Now you’re not even talking.” She said. You blinked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, and you tried, you really tried, to think of one reason why Yuju would think that you would have a boyfriend. All the boys were terrified of you for obvious reasons. Even now that you’ve become a little nicer, just a little bit, they still cower in fear. Why would Yuju think that you have a boyfriend?
The only boy that wasn’t scared of you and the only one you were willing to be seen hanging out with was—
Oh.
Unbelievable. It was just unbelievable. First it was just a burst of giggles, but then you started full-on laughing, gaining the attention of some students who were walking by. Yuju looks around and catches SinB and Yerin who were passing by with confused looks on their faces as they watched you clutch your stomach while you laughed like you were just told the stupidest joke ever made by mankind.
Well, it may as well pass a joke because it was that funny.
“You’re hilarious, Yuju. God,” You take a deep breath to compose yourself, then you stood properly and looked up at Yuju with what may be the brightest smile you’ve ever had in a while. Yuju stares at you in disbelief, wondering if what she said was actually funny. Oh, she’s so cute. “Seokmin isn’t… haha, Seokmin and I aren’t dating!” You managed to say between little giggles. Thinking about it again, you laughed loudly, suddenly leaning towards Yuju and lightly hitting her arm.
Yuju gasps, “You aren’t?!” She yelled.
You shake your head, still laughing, “No! He’s my guy best friend! Well, only guy friend. I’m not very popular with the dudes, unless we’re talking about which student they’re the most scared of.”
(Yuju doesn’t know if she should be happy about this new information. So she just stands there quietly with a small smile on her face despite being ashamed of herself, her heart growing every second the longer she was exposed to your lovely grin. She should smile more often.)
“Earlier, from outside the library, I saw the two of you,” Yuju said, her hand gripping her arm and pulling it close to herself. It looked like she was hugging herself, adorable. You listened intently, leaning close and ignoring the sound of the bell that sent the students away to their next classes. “His back was facing the door and he was facing you and you were on the table facing him and it just looked like… it looked like you two were kissing.” Yuju continued, furrowing her eyebrows at the image she saw. Or imagined, rather.
Your expression changes from curiosity to disgust, “Ew. I mean, Seokmin’s a nice guy but I wouldn’t do that. That’s weird. And kissing’s gross in general.” You replied. You made a note to tell Seokmin about all of this later, this was guaranteed to make him laugh as much as you did.
Yuju tilts her head, “Why were you in there? Did you skip class?” She asked.
“No. I came there to return some books I finished reading but I didn’t see Seokmin coming out so I bumped into him, fell on my arm and cried inside the library while he panicked thinking of a way to help me.” You said, chuckling at the memory.
Yuju puts her hand over her mouth as she gasps. You smiled, “I’m alright. I didn’t cry willingly! Who knew it would hurt so bad? You’d think that having this thing on my arm since forever would help ease the pain but goddamn that was painful.” You said, glaring at your casted arm like it just told you to do a backflip off a mountaintop.
It was silent for a while, save for the several footsteps echoing throughout the hallways. By this time you have forgotten that you had a class to go to, you wanted to hear more out of Yuju because she really looked like she wanted to say something. Now that you got a proper look at her, you noticed that she had dolled herself up. She looked even more glamorous than she did earlier in the morning.
I hope it was for me. She didn’t need it, but I really hope she did it for me. Wait, why am I hoping for that? Stop it.
“I’d like to apologize for leaving you hanging.” Yuju says after a while. With her beautiful doe-like eyes piercing your own, making you feel warm, you felt like pulling her close and hugging her. You don’t know what stopped you from doing so, but you cursed it. Whatever it was. 
You hummed, putting a finger to your lip as you eyed the taller girl from head to toe. Yuju blushes, suddenly feeling self-conscious and nervously fiddling with her belt hoops. (Oh, you didn’t know how much you made her feel.)
“You can make it up to me by taking me to that cute new coffee shop down the street.” You looped your injured arm around hers and dragged her along the corridor with a smile on your face. Yuju adjusts herself so that she wouldn’t be hurting you and treads beside you bashfully.
Well, this was new. For you, at least. You never had friends close enough to be intimate with. But then again, you weren’t really the type to be intimate with anyone. It felt… nice, being this close to someone you felt comfortable around. However, you knew in your heart that Yuju wasn’t a friend, and you don’t mean that in a hurtful way. You genuinely don’t know where you stand with her, but you do know that something inside you wants this, whatever this is, to lead somewhere.
Somewhere less chaotic and more… mellow. Maybe even romantic. Maybe, although it disgusts me to think of that word.
Yuju turns her head to smile at you, and your heartbeat picks up. Yeah, I’m in trouble. “I’ve heard about that place from Yerin and Eunha! Apparently they have the best pastries in the city.” She said.
“Really? There’s no way I’ll pass up the opportunity to get them now. You’re treating me by the way.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind spending money as long as it’s for—”
“Save the romantics for later, lovergirl.”
 -
 It has been a week since your completely platonic, non-romantic outing (which Yerin jokingly described as ‘a date’ which you convinced yourself was not true at all) with Yuju, and it was delightful. Talking to Yuju outside of the school with topics that aren’t at all related to anything that screamed ‘school’ was… fun. It’s been too long since you had fun with anyone. You certainly did not think that you’d be having fun in an adorable coffee shop with animal-shaped pastries named after dad jokes with a girl who you thought was going to become your nemesis, but you’ll take it.
Somewhere along the way, you were suddenly disappointed in yourself. You felt that you did not deserve Yuju’s kindness and her time after all the things you said to her, and the things you put her through for three days consecutively. Somehow, Yuju sensed that you felt this way so she made some things clear to you just before your older brother picked you up from a rusty old park that you and Yuju agreed to be your last stop for the day.
“I don’t know if you feel sorry, but you really shouldn’t. I was being weird watching you so closely so I understand why you were so… mean.”
“Yuju, it’s more than that—”
“I know.”
“...Are you seriously not gonna go off on me like Sojung did? I was horrible to you!”
“I know.”
“I nearly threatened you with a pen. A pen!”
“I know.”
“Obviously you don’t if you’re so… nonchalant about all of this.”
“Hey, that’s a new word from you.”
“You know what, goodbye, Yuju.”
“Haha, see you tomorrow, (Y/N). I had fun today.”
After that, neither of you brought it up ever again. You weren’t really sure if you should do it. You felt like Yuju didn’t want to talk about it. For whatever reasons you don’t know. Other than that, everyone officially identifies you both as friends, but that was only because Yuju never really hangs out with anyone other than you, and you don’t bother to say a word to anyone other than Yuju and a select few.
“I still can’t believe that she thought I was your boyfriend.” Seokmin says with a chuckle as he pushes a cart full of books further through the aisle.
You hummed as you followed closely behind him, inspecting the cover of an autobiography of a famous trot singer, “Yeah, it’s crazy.” You replied.
Seokmin looks at the book he was holding then you, then at the carpeted floor, “Hey, I wanna know something.” He said. You averted your gaze from the autobiography to your friend, raising an eyebrow and basically asking him to ask away. This is new, he usually just talks and talks.
The boy takes a deep breath and suddenly you become confused when his face heats up, “Are you and Yuju dating? Like, are you guys a thing?” He asked. You nearly dropped the book you were holding and questioned yourself as to why Seokmin would even think of that. It was almost the same confusion you felt when Yuju thought that he was dating you. Does everybody think that I’m dating my friends? I hope no one asks me about Yerin because then I would really die of laughter.
“No, we’re… friends.” You said, sliding the book back on the shelf. You weren’t even sure if that was the right word to describe your relationship with Yuju. Sometimes she stares at you a second more than necessary, sometimes your eyes linger all over her figure when she isn’t paying attention, and sometimes the two of you have those moments where you maybe want to talk about whatever the hell is happening but you always back out of it.
Mostly because you still weren’t sure about your feelings.
Maybe you were and you just didn’t want to accept it.
You don’t really know, feelings confused you a lot.
Seokmin seemed to have sighed in relief after hearing your answer. You didn’t question it though, because right after that, Yuju entered the aisle from the other end and called for you. You didn’t miss the way Seokmin abruptly pushes the cart away, barely even muttering a goodbye. He’s so weird today.
You shake your head and face Yuju, “What are you doing here?” You asked. Just like you, Yuju has been coming to school earlier than normal, and she doesn’t even do anything significant. She just follows you around, not that you mind though. It was nice having someone to talk to even though you did prefer to be alone most of the time.
“We’re still up for lunch, right?” Yuju says as she walks up to you. Well, she looked gorgeous. Nothing unusual by now but wow, she outdid herself today. It was probably the way Yuju managed to look so pretty although she was wearing an outfit that was so simple and comfortable. Not many people can pull that off.
You took a second to reply, having been distracted by the taller girl’s eyes, “If you don’t keep me waiting, maybe.” You teased with a wink.
“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” Yuju asked, looping her arm around yours and leading you out of the aisle and into the table where the two of you had placed your bags. The first classes were going to start but word got out that your teacher is not going to be present due to personal reasons so you felt like killing time instead of going to class, much to Yuju’s dismay.
“The reason why you did it is still funny.” You replied, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder the best you could. Yuju helps you with it and you mutter a small ‘thanks’ before making your way to Seokmin, who was busy arranging encyclopedias.
You tap his shoulder, making him turn around, “We’re gonna get going.” You said. You noticed the way Seokmin practically hid half of his face with the thick book he was holding and he avoided eye contact as he nodded, turning his back on you once again without another word. Before you could say anything else, Yuju started pulling you towards the exit.
“W-Wait, (Y/N),” You were halfway out the door when Seokmin suddenly ran after you. “Don’t forget to return that novel you borrowed last week. I can’t make any excuses for you.”
You sighed deeply, “Alright, I will, just don’t fine me yet!” You said, scratching the back of your head.
“Okay, well, see you later.” Seokmin said. He took one last look at you, and your tall friend, before walking away again. What is up with him?
Yuju pouts, “I think Seokmin is scared of me.” She said, pulling you out of the library.
You look back at the library doors and then to Yuju, “Why do you think that?”
“First of all, he can’t look at me for more than three seconds before scurrying away. Second, he doesn’t really talk to me. And third, when I try to talk to him, he makes up a dumb excuse to leave,” Yuju explains. The imaginary gears in your brain started shifting as you process your friend’s words, but nothing important came to mind. And it was all nonsense to you too. “Oh geez, maybe your scary aura has shifted on to me. This is horrible!” Yuju joked while faking a panicked look.
You lightly push her towards the wall, “Shut up. Seokmin’s just weird around people he doesn’t know very well.”
If I’m not stupid then maybe Seokmin...
Asking about your status with Yuju out of nowhere, suddenly walking away whenever Yuju approaches and barely talking whenever Yuju is around… it really should make sense and you’ve got one single idea in your head as to why Seokmin might be acting that way, but you ignore it with all your might.
Nah, that would be… crazy.
 -
 “Dude’s got a mondo crush on your girl.”
There was five minutes before the third period ended, and you took the time to explain everything that happened that morning to Yerin and her take on the situation nearly made you choke on your spit.
“You’re kidding. And Yuju’s not my girl, stop saying that.” You said while you started packing up. Yerin helps you push your notebook inside your bag since it hurts her a little to see you try to do it with your one hand and fail adorably.
“You’ve gone on so many dates but you would never admit that it’s a date because you’re afraid of confronting your feelings for her.” Yerin replied, sticking her tongue out when you glared at her. She was so wrong. Well, that’s what you told yourself.
“Can we not talk about that right now? We’ve got bigger problems here.” You said. The two of you walked out the classroom after hearing the bell, signaling that it was finally lunch time. You planned to buy food from the nearest convenience store around with Yuju. She has said countless times that ramen-in-a-cup is always the best meal no matter what time of the day it was. And cheap ice cream is always very good.
Yerin nods, “Right. Your other best friend likes your girlfriend! Oops, sorry did I say that?” She joked.
“I told you, Yuju isn’t my—”
You were cut off when you suddenly bumped shoulders with a student you didn’t see coming. They dropped a notebook, and you immediately bent down to pick it up. You weren’t prepared with the person you had to face when you stood back up.
Kim Jennie stands before you in all her glory, and she shared the same surprised look on your face but for an entirely different reason.
“Hey, sorry about that,” You said, handing the notebook back to its owner. Jennie seems speechless, accepting the notebook without a word. Yerin lightly nudged your arm, urging you to say something. “Uh, see you, Jen.” And almost immediately after you said that, you grab onto Yerin’s arm and she starts walking.
“What was that? You got history with the leading bitch in the school?” Yerin asked. Oh, you have no idea. You decided to not answer her question, mostly because there were millions more circling your brain. Jennie was there when you fought with that idiot that resulted in him being admitted to the hospital and you having this stupid injury on your arm. She was the last person you wanted to see, but you were more surprised that you didn’t run into her earlier.
Was she suspended? No way. She practically runs the school, she could’ve sweet-talked her way out of that. Maybe her dear old daddy finally grounded her. Yeah, that must be it.
“...to take SinB and come with us. Right, (Y/N)?”
You blinked, “What?” You didn’t realize that Yerin had dragged you to where Yuju was standing.
“I was just talking to Yerin about joining us. Are you okay?” Yuju asked. You nodded, maybe a little too quickly. You felt that she didn’t need to know about Jennie, or anything that happened before she came to the school. Maybe until you’ve gotten way closer. Is it bad to hide secrets from friends? Yuju has been nothing but honest to you, but it wasn’t like she was very open about her personal life. It could be that she just has nothing to say unlike you, whose story might be overwhelming to hear.
You really didn’t want to scare Yuju away. But still, she was going to know one way or another. You just hoped that it was going to come from you and not from some irrelevant gossip who doesn’t know any better.
“Oh, yeah. Something funny happened earlier. Seokmin was just here. Like, he was actually talking to me. Can you believe that?” Yuju says, laughing as she rummages through her locker for her wallet.
You and Yerin share a look, which you absolutely hated because she started raising her eyebrows and mouthing the word ‘crush’, “What’d he say?” You asked, ignoring Yerin’s excessive gesturing using all of her face.
“Well, for some reason, he wanted to know if I was available for lunch today and obviously I said no because I got you.” Yuju replied, pulling out a wallet from her locker and immediately shoving it inside her bag. Yerin looked ready to speak up, but you kicked her ankle, causing her to turn away and silently deal with the pain.
You faked a laugh, “Sounds like he was asking you out.” You teased. God, I hope he wasn’t asking her out. This would be the messiest situation I’ve ever been in. Yerin stifles a laugh at your obvious concern, nothing makes her happy more than knowing she was right all along.
“Why would he do that? He’s really into you,” Yuju says as if it was the most normal thing ever. If that was really the case, was she not worried that Seokmin would get in her way? Does she even like you anymore? Maybe she realized that you were better off as a friend after all those dates. That would be pretty sad considering how many times you got so close to determining your feelings for her. Did you have an absolute answer? Probably. You were just not ready to face it yet. Just like Yerin said, I hate it when she sees through me. “Don’t tell me you don’t notice the way he looks at you! He’s like a lovesick puppy.” The tall girl continues.
Yerin decided to chime in, “Just like you.” 
You didn’t even feel like fighting Yerin and her big mouth this time. Yuju smiles at her and nods, “Just like me.” She repeated, subtly winking at you. You playfully rolled your eyes, turning your head away so that your hair could hide your flushed face. Even if it was a joke, it was nice to know that Yuju still feels something. Why?! Maybe I should just shut off all my thoughts right now. It’s getting weird. I should worry over what she said instead! She thinks Seokmin likes me! But I think he likes her! How am I gonna clear this up?
“Can we just get out of here? I didn’t have breakfast this morning and if I spend another second standing around I might go insane.” You said and walked ahead of the other two. You racked your brain for solutions to your current dilemma. The first thing you thought of was pushing Yuju and Seokmin to get close, and that would mean cutting you out of the picture because you do think that they match well together.
That way Yuju wouldn’t be led on any longer than she already has. Yeah, that might be a good idea.
 -
 The nearest convenience store was directly across the school gate and for that, you had to be thankful because you really were hungry. Yerin had informed you that SinB, as well as a couple of friends of hers, will be meeting all of you at the convenience store. You didn’t really care that you would have to be around people that aren’t Yerin and Yuju, you just really wanted something to eat.
On the way to the convenience store, you had completely forgotten all about Seokmin and that whole mess, mainly because Yuju kept talking about how she would spend the majority of her weekend walking around the streets and playing with stray kittens. That would explain the small cuts on her hands you spotted a few days back. You gave her a stern scolding about diseases stray animals could carry, and then Yerin teased you about suddenly caring about other people’s wellbeing. Do I really make an impression of a cold-hearted snake at first glance?! I may be a violent asshole who can’t hold her temper but I’m not a monster!
“Oh,” You groaned as you neared the convenience store. You were close enough to spot the several students wearing your school’s uniform going about inside the convenience store, and now you changed your mind about this whole thing. Eating with several people is only fun when you know who those people are and when you’re close with them. You liked SinB even though she was one of the people who can get under your skin with her antics, but you can’t say the same about whoever she brought along. I just hope that they’re not the kids with superiority complexes. “I think I’m just gonna starve. See you both later.” You said.
Yuju grabs onto your healthy arm before you could even move an inch from where you were standing, “Come on, it won’t be that bad! Think of this as an opportunity to change your school rep!” She said and practically dragged you to the entrance of the store. She didn’t even give you a chance to protest!
“From a hot-headed, power-hungry agitator to an understanding and calm peacemaker. One hell of a transformation, (Y/N).” Yerin teased, patting your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes, “Literally most of what you just said were lies, I was never power-hungry!” You tried to reason as you pulled the door open with your healthy hand.
“Then how do you have ‘history’ with Kim Jennie? You’re telling me that you were actually friends with her? Nothing else?” Yerin said. Your head aches whenever you think about the bullshit you went through while you were Jennie’s pet, and your head hurts even more when Yuju looked as if she was demanding you to enlighten her about this whole thing. Darn it, Yerin. I love you but sometimes you have to shut up.
You decided to stay silent, and Yerin got distracted with greeting SinB and her friends to bother you about it further. Yuju holds the door open for you, and you thank her before stepping inside the store. As much as you tried to ignore the small crowd that formed around the seating area of the store, a familiar face forces you to look.
“Well, this is awkward.” SinB mutters as she watches you and Kim Sojung have a staring competition. Why did you even bother to think that it wouldn’t be Sojung, Eunha, and Yewon who were coming along with SinB? Of course they were the friends. Thankfully, Yuju, who knew a thing or two about what might happen if you and Sojung stayed together in one place for even two seconds, drags you inside an aisle before anyone could say anything else.
Her soft hand was holding on to yours as the two of you quietly walked to where the ramen cups were. It was strange. Yuju has held hands with you many times before. Sometimes as a joke to embarrass you in public, sometimes she does it just because she wants to, and sometimes she does it without even knowing it herself. That was your favorite one. However, something about the way she was holding your hand now was different. It was a feeling you weren’t familiar with, and oh, how you hated not knowing things.
Suddenly, just as you spotted the ramen cup you always get in stores, Yuju stops and turns around to face you. Her expressions change from determined, hesitant, and lost in a matter of seconds. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but she was afraid of your reaction. Back then you would’ve completely shut her out about anything she might ask about you, but you know her now and she knows you. You wanted to encourage her to talk but something told you to wait for her. What are you thinking?
Yuju takes your injured arm gently and stares at it for a couple of seconds, then she looks at you and finally speaks. “I’ve always wondered what really happened. You don’t tell me a lot. I know I-I’m nothing to you… but I care about you, (Y/N). It may look like I’m just someone who’s got this big crush on you as a joke but that’s not true at all. I really do like you… and I want to know what happened here.” She said.
It was inevitable. You knew she was going to ask about it again, and when that happens you wouldn’t have a choice but to answer her with the truth. That moment was here, and you’ve come up with a lot of ideas as to how to approach the topic, so how come you can’t say anything now?
Maybe I just need another push. Just one, then I can tell her everything she wants to hear.
Yuju doesn’t say anything, and that was the push you wanted. Still, the words were stuck at your throat. There was this sinking feeling at your chest, it was a feeling that you never wanted to experience again after the first time. But it comes constantly. Sometimes briefly, sometimes it stays longer than you want it to and clouds your mind for the whole day.
It feels suffocating. The more Yuju stares at you with nothing but genuine patience in her eyes, the more your chest tightens and the more your head screams at you to turn around and leave without saying a word. You were scared.
You were so terrified of telling Yuju about it all, of having to watch Yuju slowly lose whatever she feels for you after you tell her, of losing Yuju. Because you would never admit it, not even to Yerin who has proved many times that you can trust her with anything, but Yuju has become someone you were fond of. Someone who you wanted to keep for a long time. Someone who is probably the only person who can keep you in line. Someone you willingly drop your guard around. Someone that was close to your heart.
Maybe not like that yet, but you didn’t want to lose someone who means so much to you. Nobody does.
“I won’t run,” Yuju speaks again, pulling you out of your deep thoughts. “I would never run from you.”
She means well. But I can’t do this.
“(Y/N), I’m here for you,” Yuju takes a step closer to you, her hands once again taking yours and squeezing it lightly. “I know you don’t tell anyone about what happened that time for a reason. I know it’s killing you to keep all of your feelings inside because you want everyone to think you’re so tough, but you don’t have to do that anymore.”
Yuju takes your hand and raises it to her lips. She plants kisses on your knuckles, and then she presses your palm against her cheek. Stop it. 
“You can lean on me.”
It hurts to think of what might happen if you tell her right now. Will she completely change her attitude, take back everything she just said and walk away? Or will she continue to stand there and actually keep her promise? You weren’t sure of what might happen, but either outcomes would be scarring. Even if Yuju continues being Yuju and stays with you, it wouldn’t stop this horrible, irrational feeling you have. The feeling that she is not supposed to be with you.
As a friend or whatever.
It’s cruel to keep someone waiting like this.
You slowly dropped your hand from her cheek and tried to pull away, but Yuju kept her hold on you as if she was afraid that you were going to disappear if she let go. Because you will. You just hope that Yuju won’t hate you more for staying away from her rather than knowing what happened that led to your injury. How could I let this go on for so long?
“They’re expecting you,” You gestured to the girls at the seating area. Yuju couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Taking advantage of her confusion, you successfully pulled your hand away from hers. Why does it hurt? “Don’t let me keep you from them.” After everything… maybe I am as bad as people make me out to be.
When you walked away, Yuju didn’t chase after you. Maybe she was finally tired of everything you put her through. Or maybe she understood why you were so hesitant to talk about everything in the first place. You wouldn’t know because you made sure to never look back. Looking at Yuju again after everything that just happened, it would only hurt you more and boy were you done with being hurt.
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jobean12-blog · 4 years
Note
hello my love!!! I wondered if I could request something sexy and fun!! I was thinking of reader and Bucky being in a new relationship, they haven't had sex yet and he invites her to sleep over at the compound one night. Reader has like a boob sore so she can't wear a bra and sleeps in her tank top. morning after, Bucky wakes up first and sees her boob has fallen out of her top, he was trying to remain a gentleman but after seeing that he wants her? Hehe i love you and thank you for everything❤️
Morning Glory
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 1,412
Summary: Spending the night at Bucky’s for the first time has you very excited and a morning surprise really moves the relationship along...
Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting this love! I had fun writing it and hope it makes you happy! This is real life and happens to me all the time, even when I wear those CK bralette thingies. Never fails. Now if Bucky was in my bed....well. haha! Love you! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤
Warnings: sweet fluff, light teasing and flirting, lots of kissing, Steve and Sam being themselves, implied sexy times :) 
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Standing in your apartment you stare at your empty overnight bag, cursing your indecision. Bucky invited you to spend the night at his place, aka the Avengers compound, and you have no idea what to pack to wear for the night or bedtime or the next morning! You don’t normally sleep in a bra and you don’t want to just because you’re staying at his place. Rifling through your pajama drawer you find a cute blue tank top with matching boy shorts, deciding it works fine and will be comfy.
Stuffing it in the bag you search around for your toiletries, double checking you have everything you need before leaving. Bucky meets you outside and greets you with a searing kiss. It takes you a moment to catch your breath afterwards and you’re wondering how you’ll be able to control yourself when you share a bed tonight.
Bucky has been a gentleman from the moment you met and ever since you first starting dating, which wasn’t too long ago. It’s the first time you’ll be spending the whole night together and you’re feeling both excited and nervous. Of course, as soon as you’re in his presence you feel completely comfortable and happy.
The early part of your evening is spent cooking dinner together, Bucky suggesting you try to make a pizza. “Bucky, I’m not sure I can do the whole throw the dough in the air thing,” you say, staring down at the yeasty mixture. “Me neither but I’m gonna give it a try!” You giggle and step back watching as Bucky tries to pick up the sticky dough.
Once he has it in his hands, he gives you an apprehensive look before saying, “here goes nothin’!” He tries to throw it but fails when he doesn’t put enough force behind it. “Ok, here we really go,” he laughs. Bending his knees, he releases the dough. It flies just above his head, hovering for a split second before landing back on his hands and ripping.
Bucky stands in shocked silence and your hand flies over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He finally looks your way, his lips turning up into a smirk, “something you find funny, doll?” You can’t hold back any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles and pointing at him. “Oh my gosh, you should see your face!”
Bucky tries to wipe off his hands as best he can before he stalks over to you, caging you against the island with his arms. Your breath hitches at the closeness of his body and your hands instinctively reach out to smooth down his chest. “I wish I got that on camera,” you say, continuing to tease him, “and I think you have some dough in your hair.”
He leans his face close to yours, brushing the hair from your cheek, “hmmmm, I bet you do.” When his mouth meets yours you completely melt against him, a sigh falling from your lips as he parts them with his tongue. Running his thumb across your jaw he cradles your face in his hand, deepening the kiss just as a throat clears loudly behind you.
Bucky hesitantly pulls away, his eyes soft on you but then thunderous when they stare over your shoulder. “Rogers. You better have a good reason for interrupting us.” Steve raises his brows and chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Captain America way. “Hi y/n. Nice to see you again.” You give Steve a shy wave, “hi Steve, you too.”
“Actually, this time I do. I smelled something burning and figured I should check it out before the compound gets a shower.” Both you and Bucky spin to face the oven, the slight wisps of smoke starting to leak out the sides. “Oh shit,” Bucky shouts, quickly turning the oven off and alerting Friday that they have it under control. “THE COOKIES!” you yell in horror! “I can’t believe we forgot about them!”
Steve laughs first and you and Bucky can’t help but follow suit. “Well, if you didn’t have your tongues down each other throats you might have remembered,” Steve scolds before laughing again and walking off. “Ugh, I’m gonna kick him in his righteous ass,” Bucky mumbles.
Turning to you, he gathers you in his arms and says, “now, where were we,” pressing his lips to yours once again. You gently pull away just to ask, “what about dinner? And more importantly! Dessert!?” His nose scrunches as he smiles wide, “let’s just order a pizza and steal Sam’s Oreos. Yea?” You simply nod, leaning in to kiss him again.
“I heard you two were starting a fire in here!” Sam chimes from the doorway. Bucky groans, grabbing your hand and walking down the hallway without a word. “Hi y/n!” Sam says as he gives you his best smile. “Hey Sam! Good to see you!” you call out just before disappearing around the corner.
Bucky huffs as he shuts the door. “They can be such a pain in the ass sometimes!” You laugh and pull your phone from your pocket. “I’ll order the pizza; you snag the cookies and then we’ll have the rest of the night uninterrupted.” Bucky practically skips out the door when you start dialing for the pizza and only moments later you hear Sam yelling, “where the hell are you going with my Oreos?!?!”
Dinner is perfect and after eating a whole sleeve of Oreos dipped in milk you and Bucky settle in on the couch to watch a movie. Not even halfway through Bucky has you pinned to the couch, his lips devouring yours as his hands wander over your dips and curves. You moan into his mouth and he pulls away, breathing heavily when he speaks. “I want you so badly, but I want to do this the right way, you know.”
You’re barely able to manage the nod of your head, all your brain power gone with his strong body above you and his hands on your skin. You want to tell him you don’t care that you really like him and you’re ready to take the next step. But you don’t want to push him either, so you remain silent. He pulls you into his side, holding you close while you finish the movie.
It’s almost midnight and you stifle a yawn, snuggling closer into Bucky. “You ready for bed, doll?” You smile up at him, “yes, I think so.” You go into the bathroom to wash up and change. When you come out you watch as Bucky takes in your appearance, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes dark. “You’re not making this easy you know.” He plants a sweet kiss to your lips before he goes to change.
You get in bed and burrow under the covers, loving that you’re surrounded by his smell. He gets in soon after, pulling you against his chest and nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m really glad you’re here baby girl. I love having you in my bed.” Throwing your leg over his you mumble into his chest, “me too, Buck.”
Morning arrives and you slowly wake up, the warmth of Bucky’s body still close as you stretch and yawn. You feel a slight chill at your chest, moving to pull the blanket further up your body but stopping short when you brush bare skin. Cracking open your eyes you look down and to your surprise see that your tank top did little to hold things in place while you were sleeping.
Bucky’s sharp intake of breath catches your attention and you look over to find him staring. “Morning beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Hi,” you say quietly, smirking at how hot and bothered he looks. “Sorry, I don’t usually wear a bra to sleep.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, he just keeps staring and you can see his internal struggle.
You slowly get up, fixing your shirt and running your hand over the hardness that is evident under his boxers. “Meet me in the shower in 2?” you ask sweetly, lightly brushing your lips to his. He practically falls out of the bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as he stumbles forward. “Fuck yes, doll. I can’t wait.”  You saunter to the bathroom, knowing full well half your ass cheek is hanging out of your boy shorts. Bucky’s low growl carries across the room, your smile triumphant just as you turn on the shower.  
@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @jewels2876 @littleredstarfish @littledarlinhavefaithinme @mushyjellybeans @metal-armed-cuddly-dork  @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky
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officerjennie · 3 years
Text
Goodbye Kisses
(Prompted by myself on my birthday because help, I love them so much T^T) (Ko-fi and commission info in my blog header) 
--
It mattered not how many times they said goodbye, each time still broke another piece of his heart.
There were times Jaskier had ample warning. Days or even weeks to steel himself, to play the brilliant actor he prided himself to be. Ample time to remind himself quite sternly what he was to his witcher, his noble white wolf, the man who had swept into his life with all the flair and cheer of a beaten and tired mutt and had promptly and oh so very rudely stolen his heart.
A heart that many had attempted to steal in the past, might he add.
Those blessed days, hours, weeks - whatever time he had to fish his heart back from his sleeves and shove it back in his chest to be guarded like it had never wanted to be - they were all that saved him from certain embarrassment and rejection. For every single time, no matter that he knew it would end, he allowed himself to be a fool and believe that their journey would go onward. That every morning he could wake up bleary and far too late to his witcher grousing over their late start. That every afternoon would find him practicing his lute and songs while he danced his way down whatever trail laid before them, following after Roach’s twitching tail and the regal visage of Geralt, the most dearest man to his heart.
It was not one of those times, however.
“Leaving,” was the only grunted explanation he got as Geralt brushed past him, Jaskier left blinking after him where he stood still in the doorway to the room they’d planned on sharing for the next few days at the very least. It took far too many seconds for his thoughts to catch up to him, the silly grin he’d had frozen on his lips, laughter caught and dying in his throat.
“Wh- hold on, wait! Garelt!” Jaskier danced a little in the doorway, unsure of whether to take off after his companion given his own stuff was still strewn all about their room - everything but the lute strapped to his back and the smaller of his coin purses that he’d kept to collect the connected bar’s patron’s generous donations at his performance. With great effort he stopped staring after him, sweeping wide eyes about the room, already mourning the loss of what he couldn’t grab in the next 30 seconds: the blackberry wine he’d been planning on breaking out this very night would have to be abandoned, as well as much of his clothes - oh, it would cost him a small fortune to replace them all, and his heart cried even as he ran about and scooped up what little he could before stumbling right back out the door, regretting that last pint of ale as it left him fumbly and even dropping some of the precious few things he’d managed to stuff in his arms.
It was a miracle in and of itself that he didn’t bumble into anyone on his rush down the hall and stairs, and another that he managed the door by himself with his hands and arms otherwise occupied. At least no grace from the gods was required to find Geralt, all Jaskier needed to do was head straight for the stable that was attached to the inn.
“Geralt!”
He spotted his witcher just as Geralt was swinging his leg up and over Roach, the mare already saddled and packed and grouchy from being awoken far too early for her liking. She tried her best to reach back and nip at her burden even as Geralt nudged her forward, stopping her only after a few feet when Jaskier stumbled in front of them.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Gesturing with his arms so full of precious belongings was a bad idea but that didn’t occur to him until after he’d already done it, and attempting to catch the turquoise and emerald silk shirt only made him drop something else. “Dropping everything I own in the muck and grime is what I’m doing apparently - that was a gift, you know! A gift from my mother on her sick bed. Sure, sure, she recovered, but that’s not the point of things, Geralt, some warning would have been nice!”
“I’m leaving.”
“Oh, well darling, I didn’t notice, what with the whole storming out and straddling Ms. Nips-A-Lot - hey! No!” Roach knew exactly when he sassed about her and proved the name right, Jaskier barely dodging one of her hard nips that was aimed at his shoulder. It was luck and luck alone that kept all the rest of his things in his arms and far away from the mud below. “I meant advanced warning, Geralt, half a minute is not enough time for me to pack. And the least you could do is help me!”
Geralt grunted at him, and it was only thanks to their years of travelling together off and on that Jaskier could recognize it as his impatient grunt - which only made him want to huff indignantly, considering it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t get ready at the drop of a hat. But before he could properly huff at him Geralt slid off of Roach to help him.
Or...not. Instead of taking any of his stuff, or maybe opening one of the packs Roach was carrying, Geralt just oh so helpfully clapped Jaskier on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as he leaned down to meet Jaskier’s gaze - and just that simple act of holding his gaze had Jaskier’s heart in his throat. Melitele help him but those eyes would be the death of him. He could drown in the abyss of them, captured and held prisoner but hardly against his will, lost in a sea of amber and warmth many would think so unlike his dear withcer-
“I’m leaving, Jaskier. Not you.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Jaskier said, the fluttering thing in his stomach dropping like a stone. Well. Just like his witcher to put a damper on things.
“Too dangerous.”
“How is it any more dangerous than what we’ve already been through together?” Jaskier tried to not get too distracted when Geralt’s hand slipped from his shoulder and down his arm, still firm on him, making it unfairly difficult to muster up a decent argument as Geralt took his elbow and started to guide him back to the tavern entrance. “When we met I followed you straight towards a devil, remember? Sure it wasn’t an actual devil but neither of us knew any better-”
“Devils aren’t real, Jaskier.”
“-and I still followed you right along, and ended up perfectly fine! Oh, and remember the dragon? A dragon, Geralt, how on earth could anything out here in the middle of bloody nowhere could be more dangerous than a DRAGON?”
Geralt gave him a look that suggested he was being difficult on purpose. “I don’t slay dragons. There was never going to be a fight.”
Any further protests were put to a stop before they could continue, hardly even a stammered out start passing Jaskier’s lips before Geralt was opening the tavern door for him, giving a squeeze to his arm before dropping the contact between them. “Stay here, and out of trouble if you can manage it. I’ll come back.”
Normally, Jaskier would have made a fuss over the insinuation that he might gravitate towards trouble - because, really, it was the other way around. Not that the end results mattered much which way it worked. It came down to semantics, really, but Jaskier still would not have taken the insinuation without at least trying to set the record straight a little. But…
But his heart had not been normal of late, nor had his mind. And with no time to prepare for Geralt’s rather sudden departure he’d had no time to school his reactions, no time to remind himself how he’d normally do things: what he’d say, how exactly his hand or arm would flourish in gesture, what emotions he should allow into his tone without raising any sort of suspicion.
So it wasn’t exasperation that colored his tone, no played up hurt nor frustration to punctuate his words when Jaskier half-turned to look up at his witcher, breath almost catching at how even on a dreary day like this Geralt managed to look neigh on ethereal in his beauty - when all Jaskier managed to ask him was “When?”
When would he again be allowed to get lost within that heated gaze, time having little meaning, the world fading into the distance? When would his nights end in laughter rather than the drop after a performance, his high from the crowd leaving him at an incredible low, alone without his dearest witcher to keep his thoughts at bay and far away from the darkened sea they went to on their own? When would he know beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Geralt was safe and relatively unharmed, unmaimed at the very least, able to return to him at all?
“When I’m done.”
Ever the romantic to match his thoughts. Jaskier huffed out air through his nose, readjusting his grip on the mountain of things in his arms, Geralt’s blunt honesty cutting through his rather melodramatic mode decently enough. Not well enough to have him rid of all the rather sticky feelings that loved to pop up unbidden, but without the clouds that usually left him dampened in their presence all those sticky feelings left Jaskier feeling rather...wistful, and, dare he say, whimsical.
Perhaps his mother was onto something when she said his moods changed less like seasons and more flittered by like insects swarming in the summer heat.
If he had had perhaps even an hour to prepare for this goodbye, Jaskier would not have done anything so far removed from their normal interactions and behavior. But that time had not been given to him, and the warmth from Geralt’s hand could still be felt on his arm, and Jaskier’s heart was skipping beats in his chest knowing it was concern that had his witcher so set on going it alone - and seeing it clear as the dawn itself in those beautiful eyes of gold.
With as much grace as he could muster with his arms ladened so, Jaskier closed the short distance between him and his friend. He couldn’t tell if it was shocked surprise that held Geralt still or not, or what kept him from jerking away as he’d always expected him to if Jaskier had ever dared to be so bold, but Geralt did not move back - and Jaskier found his lips brushing against the silver stubble on his cheek, rough against his own chapped skin but it barely registered against the thundering heartbeat that sounded in his ears.
A light kiss to his cheek was all he managed, and it amazed him long into the night that he found his voice past it all. “Be careful, darling.” Being so close to him Jaskier saw Geralt’s breathing stutter at the endearment, and like a good storyteller he took careful note of that and squirreled it away for later, leaning back away just enough to look up and catch the way Geralt was looking at him. “I’d hate to be a bard with no company.”
Upon reflection, getting to see his oh so completely and frustratingly composed witcher shift his weight nervously after such a simple thing was more than worth the slip in his own emotional composure. Even the muddied belongings were worth it when weighed against the delayed grunt of response, the flickering gaze towards Jaskier and away again, and the sudden start to Geralt’s movements that finally started him back towards Roach without another word.
Maybe goodbyes weren’t the worst after all if they involved such an adorably flustered boy (and, Jaskier thought, his own gaze flickering downward shamelessly, it never really was a burden to watch him walk away).
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sunlit-squid · 3 years
Note
How about “Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” for the prompt?
For those who don’t know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I’ll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰
i’m back on my bullshit. if you wanna read this ficlet on ao3, the link is here. otherwise, ficlet under the cut!
also tagging @wowthwtslame, who requested the same prompt a while ago. thank you!
In the dead of night, while everyone was asleep, winter descended on Bikini Bottom.
By the time Squidward woke up and peered out the window, Conch Street was completely covered in glittering white snow. In fact, the wintry landscape stretched so far, there was hardly a speckle of sand left -- just deep, undisturbed snow for miles on end.
Squidward vaguely remembered falling asleep to the late night news, in the middle of a special weather report. What was it Perch Perkins said? “6 to 7 inches of snow overnight?” Fishpaste. That was going to be a lot of snow to clear up before work Monday morning.
But for now … it was Sunday. And Sunday meant no Krusty Krab, no rowdy customers, and -- perhaps best of all -- no Spongebob. Squidward sighed dreamily. Yes. Today, he would stay in, and tomorrow, he would worry about the snow.
-0-
The setup was perfect: soothing herbal tea, a box full of bonbons, and a romantic drama on the television. Squidward had donned his softest, silkiest robe for the occasion, and was just settling onto the couch -- when there was a loud, forceful knock at the door. The octopus groaned. There was only one person who would be willing to come over in this weather…
Sure enough, a few moments later, Spongebob’s high-pitched voice echoed all throughout the once-serene moai: “Heeeeey, Squidwaaaard!” The loud, forceful knocking began anew, drowning out Squidward’s TV entirely.
Annoyed, the octopus pressed pause on his romantic drama, and trudged angrily over to the door. Flinging it open with all the force he could muster, Squidward readied himself for a scream -- but was instead startled by the faces on his doorstep.
Spongebob was there, of course -- but he was accompanied by Patrick and Sandy, too. All three of them were dressed in wintry ski gear, looking bright and chipper as ever. Spongebob, however, looked oddly flushed, a soft shade of red dusting his yellow cheeks. Perhaps he was cold.
“Howdy, Squidward!” greeted Sandy, waving her gloved hand enthusiastically. “We were just about to head to Sand Mountain for some skiin’, and thought ya might want to tag along.”
“Yeah, come with us, Squidward!” Patrick chimed in. “Spongebob reeeaaaaally wants you to -- oof!”
There was some indiscernible movement behind Spongebob, which made Patrick double over in pain. Sandy, however, continued to smile, a bit forcefully now. Pushing Spongebob forward, the squirrel continued, “Anyway, whaddaya say, Squidward?”
Squidward blinked. This was weird. For one, the trio at his doorstep seemed oddly tense. And for two, Squidward was not a good skier. Or a skier at all, really. The last time he skied at Sand Mountain, nearly a year ago, had been an accident -- Spongebob lost control of his skis, and barreled directly into Squidward (who, mind you, wasn’t even skiing, just spectating). The force of the collision carried both of them across the mountain, and into the icy waters beyond.
After that incident, they both got a nasty cold, which lasted for nearly two weeks. During that time, Spongebob insisted on coming over frequently, just to hang out. I’m so sick, I can’t hang out with anyone else! the sponge explained. But you’re sick too, Squidward, so let’s get better together, okay?
It was the worst two weeks of Squidward’s life -- never mind that Spongebob cooked good meals and watched the same shows and looked really cute in his sleep…
Wait. No. No.
“No,” snapped Squidward, moving to close his door. “Absolutely not.”
Before the door could close completely, however, Spongebob stepped forward, wedging himself in the doorway. “But Squiiidward,” the sponge whined, pouting beautifully. His brilliant blue eyes shimmered in the mid-morning sun. “I wanna hang out with you today!”
The octopus froze, heat rising to his cheeks. With a deep breath, Squidward yelled, “I am not going, and that is final!” before slamming the door in their faces.
-0-
Somehow, some way -- Squidward wound up in the backseat of Sandy’s newly-invented wintermobile, trudging through the snow-packed streets of Bikini Bottom. Spongebob was seated right next to him, singing along to a cheery Christmas song on the radio. Patrick, in the passenger seat, was singing too, but it was clear he didn’t know the words at all.
The octopus scowled. How did this happen?
It was Spongebob’s fault, no doubt. One moment, Squidward was lounging on the couch -- and the next, he was rummaging around the closet, searching for his winter gear. Something about Spongebob’s words -- I wanna hang out with you today! -- made the octopus feel stupid, loopy, and warm.
Squidward was no stranger to loneliness. It was his oldest friend, his most constant companion, and the octopus was … okay with that. Content, even. But Spongebob Squarepants, with his stupid smile and pretty blue eyes and cute face, just had to go and ruin it, every time. Squidward, you wanna watch a movie? Squidward, you wanna go to the park? Squidward, you wanna try out this new cookie recipe? And despite Squidward’s better judgment … whether due to loneliness, or boredom, or what have you … he would say yes, every time.
This was one of those times.
“Hey, hey,” Spongebob whispered, interrupting Squidward’s thoughts. “I’m glad you changed your mind. I always have more fun with you around, Squidward.”
Squidward blushed furiously, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t read into it. I just thought it would be good to get out of the house.”
“Oh, it will be! And I practiced some cool tricks,” said the sponge, waving his arms around erratically. “I wanna show them to you, okay?”
Squidward smirked. “If you get hurt, I’ll just point and laugh.”
Spongebob stuck out his bottom lip, in an adorable pout. “I won’t get hurt. I’m an expert!”
“Uh-huh,” said Squidward dryly. “I bet you are.”
Spongebob ignored that snarky remark, and instead moved on to talk about the different tricks he had learned. All the while, Squidward’s gaze lingered on the poriferan’s face: the way it lit up, the way it radiated warmth. On occasion, the octopus would glance up to find Patrick and Sandy eyeing them through the rearview mirror. Whenever they were caught, however, the starfish and the squirrel would immediately look away, whistling awkwardly.
What was up with them?
-0-
When they finally got to Sand Mountain, it was apparent they weren’t the only ones who thought of skiing that day. A decent crowd of Bikini Bottomites had gathered at the mountain, either skiing or talking or drinking hot cocoa from a nearby stand. Some children had even gathered at the base of the mountain, caught up in an intense snowball fight. In all, there was a joyous vibe in the air, the unique, special sort that only comes with very heavy snowfall.
Hurriedly, the four of them piled out of Sandy’s wintermobile, and headed for the slopes. After getting their gear and equipment all squared away, Patrick and Sandy turned to Spongebob and Squidward, with strained, too-wide smiles.
“Well, uh -- Patrick and I are gonna test out the new challenge course on the other side o’ the mountain,” said Sandy, nervously readjusting her ski goggles, which for some reason were strapped around her helmet. “So, uh -- we’ll meet up with y’all in a bit, alright?”
Squidward blinked in confusion. “Why can’t we just go with you -- ?”
“Uh, bye, Spongeward! I mean, Squidbob! I mean … uh …,” sputtered Patrick, as Sandy hurriedly dragged him away -- in the wrong direction, Squidward noted.
“What’s up with them?” asked the octopus, vaguely gesturing to Sandy and Patrick, who were slowly disappearing from sight.
Spongebob laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, don’t worry about them -- it’s -- uh. They’re, uh. Dating,” stammered the sponge, awkwardly. “They’re just, like, super shy about it.”
Squidward did not believe that for one single second. “Spongebob, what is going on?”
Before Spongebob could reply, the poriferan was swept up by two strong, muscly red arms, tossing him in the air and catching him again. “Spongebob Squarepants!” exclaimed Larry, towering over Squidward in that intimidating way of his. “Buddy, you ready to hit those slopes?”
Spongebob giggled as he was tossed in the air. “I sure am!”
When Larry finally caught sight of Squidward standing there, the lobster laughed loudly. “Oh, Squidward’s here! Good!” said Larry, with a huge grin on his face. “You know, Spongebob has some real cool tricks up his sleeve. He’s been practicing a lot just to impress --”
“AAAH!” yelled Spongebob, for seemingly no reason, startling both Squidward and Larry. After a few seconds, the poriferan laughed nervously, and sputtered, “Oh, uh, sorry, just -- getting all my screams out now, while I can. What were you saying, Larry?”
Larry blinked in confusion. “Well, I was saying, that you’ve been practicing real hard to impress --”
“AAAAH!” screamed Spongebob, louder this time.
“To impress --”
“AAAAAAAAH!” yelled the sponge, once more. This time, the scream was so loud, a pile of snow came rolling off the peak of Sand Mountain, and onto some Bikini Bottomites down below. In the distance, someone screamed something about a leg.
Larry stopped talking. Sighing, he put Spongebob down and said, “Look, why don’t we just … head to the slope, alright?”
Spongebob nodded, seemingly all out of screams. “Okie-doke!”
Quietly, the lobster and the sponge began making their way over to Mariana Course, notably the hardest slope at Sand Mountain. Squidward followed close behind them, thoroughly baffled. Sure, Spongebob was hyperactive, energetic, and borderline insane, but this … this was something entirely different. Spongebob seemed nervous, to the point of genuine distress, and Squidward for the life of him couldn’t figure out why.
Impulsively, the octopus reached out to pull Spongebob back, so they were both walking a few paces behind Larry. “You know, you don’t have to do this course if you’re nervous about it,” the octopus mumbled, keeping his voice low so the lobster wouldn’t overhear. “I mean, it’s not like I care or anything, in fact it would be funny if you, uh, got hurt or whatever, but … the Mariana Course is kind of … questionable, you know?”
By ‘questionable’, Squidward meant damn near fatal. The Mariana Course wasn’t even an official part of Sand Mountain, until the Drasticals broke it in by force. Its rocky, hazardous terrain practically financed the new wing of the Bikini Bottom General Hospital.
Spongebob, however, seemed determined. “Trust me, Squidward, I’ve got it all under control!” he chirped. Then, with a small, cute chuckle, the sponge asked, “Why? Are you worried about me?”
Squidward felt hot, all of a sudden. The octopus stormed ahead, warmth clinging to his cheeks. “Let’s just get this over with!”
Behind him, Spongebob giggled. “Whatever you say, Squiddy.”
-0-
Squidward had to admit, Spongebob had definitely been practicing. From his spot on the observer’s loft, the octopus could see everything on the Mariana Course: from the brambling bushes to the sharp, jagged rocks, to the slippery snow drifts down below. One by one, Spongebob maneuvered through them all, with grace, aplomb -- even a touch of arrogance.
Spongebob’s tricks were plentiful, and occasionally scary: at one point, the sponge was suspended high in the air, doing crazy flips and turns, all while his skis raced ahead of him. Squidward was worried, for a moment, that the skis would outpace Spongebob -- but somehow, the poriferan managed to land perfectly, right atop both of them, once again.
Squidward found himself sighing, dreamily. Sure, Spongebob was annoying ninety percent of the time, but the boy was also weirdly athletic … which had a certain, insufferable charm to it.
“Hey, Squidward,” came Larry’s voice. Squidward jumped slightly -- he’d honestly forgotten the lobster was still around. When Squidward turned, Larry was approaching with two mugs of hot cocoa in both claws. Gently, he handed one to Squidward, who accepted it gratefully. “Drink while it’s hot.”
“Thanks,” said Squidward. The warmth of the mug felt lovely, especially in the bitter cold.
Larry and Squidward sat in silence, watching Spongebob traverse the Mariana Course, for a while -- sipping their cocoa and occasionally gasping at the sponge’s antics. The cocoa was delicious, the perfect soothing drink for a day on the slopes. After a lengthy, peaceful silence, Larry finally spoke up.
“Spongebob really likes you, you know,” said the lobster, finishing the last of his cocoa.
Squidward froze -- and it had nothing to do with the cold temperatures. Wrapping his tentacles around the mug, Squidward sifted around his brain for a good reply. Coming up empty, the octopus simply said, “Yeah. He’s made that pretty clear.”
Larry shifted, leaning on the railing in front of them. “You know, he … asked me to teach him some of those tricks. To cheer you up.”
Squidward turned now, eyes fixed on Larry. “What?” he said, stupidly.
The lobster shrugged. “I don’t really know the details,” Larry sighed. “All I know is, Spongebob thought you seemed sadder lately. And he wanted to try and make you feel better.”
Squidward felt both hot and cold, all of a sudden. In truth … he had fallen into a bit of a depression lately. Over the course of one month, Squidward’s creative pursuits hit a new, staggering low: another one of his scripts had been rejected by the Bikini Bottom Art Society; he was laughed out of the auditions for the Bikini Bottom Philharmonic; and, to top it all off, Squilliam had just premiered a groundbreaking musical in New Kelp City.
Already, the reviews were in: once more, Squilliam was rocking the oceanic world … and Squidward was still just a cashier.
Squidward thought that because he was usually depressed anyway, no one would notice if he was … slightly-more-depressed than usual. But apparently, someone had. And apparently …
“Dear Neptune!” Larry’s sudden, loud voice rocketed Squidward out of his thoughts.
“What? What’s going on?” asked Squidward, looking around frantically -- until he saw it. A tiny yellow body, near the edge of the Mariana Course, lying still, so perfectly still.
-0-
Quickly, Larry and Squidward stole a snowmobile from the mountain staff, and hurriedly rushed towards Spongebob’s tiny, unmoving body. On the way, the lobster explained what happened: Spongebob had been in the middle of one of his stunts. Everything was going perfectly fine, until he had to land on his skis again. The back of Spongebob’s coat got stuck on a kelp branch, which flung him to the edge of the Mariana Course. He landed on sharp, jagged rocks, and from then on, did not move.
Squidward felt a pit opening up inside his stomach. Dear, blessed Neptune and Poseidon. Let him be okay.
When they finally reached the cluster of sharp, jagged rocks, Squidward could hardly believe his eyes. Lying perfectly still, eyes closed, barely breathing, was Spongebob Squarepants, a massive, sharp rock jutted straight through his chest. Behind him, Larry threw up in the woods.
After he recovered, Larry sputtered out, “We should -- we should try to move him … I don’t know a lot about sponge anatomy, but if he stays like that, he’ll regenerate around it … and that’ll make things complicated for the docs … ”
Squidward was already moving. The octopus used his tentacles to carefully maneuver his way around the sharp crevices. When he finally reached Spongebob, the cephalopod shivered with fright. It was bad. The sharp rock wasn’t very long, but it was long enough to look horrific, especially embedded inside of Spongebob’s tiny body.
“Sponge … Spongebob?” croaked Squidward, a flood of anxiety washing over him.
There was no response -- only silence, terrible silence, where Spongebob’s sharp, jittering laugh should be. Squidward felt cold. He did this for me. To make me happy. Me.
“Damn it,” muttered Squidward. Before he knew it, he was crying, large globs of tears streaming down his face. “Why? Why are you like this? Just to make me happy … are you an idiot?”
Suddenly, there was a claw on Squidward’s shoulder. Looking up, he saw that Larry was there, quiet yet firm. Carefully, the lobster latched onto Spongebob, and gently pulled the boy off of the jagged edge. Squidward’s eyes were locked on the rock where Spongebob once was for a moment too long. Then, he carefully made his way out of the jagged rock pile.
Larry had laid Spongebob down in the snow, just beyond the pit of rocks. The gaping hole left in the sponge’s body was terrifying to look at, so open and hollow and wide.
“Medics are coming,” said Larry, with a cough. “But since it’s a sponge, they might take longer … you know, because they --”
“Regenerate,” finished Squidward, kneeling down next to Spongebob’s cold, still form. “He’s not regenerating right now … is that bad?”
“Give it a moment,” breathed Larry, going to grab a blanket from off of the snowmobile. “Kid fell hard. It might be a while.”
Larry returned, blanket in tow, and wrapped it all over Spongebob’s body. Then, he stood, and they all made their way back to the nearby lodge, quiet as can be.
-0-
When they got back to the warmth of the lodge, they laid Spongebob down on a couch in the lobby. Larry draped the blanket over Spongebob once again, to try and hide his wounds as he recovered. Now, only the top of him was visible, his yellow nose just barely peeking out.
This way, Squidward could almost trick himself into thinking the sponge was asleep. With that soft, cute smile, those fluttering eyelashes … yes. Spongebob was just sleeping, and soon, he would wake up, and laugh, and all would be right with the world.
As time passed, several Bikini Bottomites came through, to ask what happened. Larry explained carefully, since Squidward could hardly bring himself to speak. At some point, Patrick and Sandy showed up too, looking equally devastated, Sandy muttering something about I knew this idea was plumb awful, why didn’t I trust my gut …
All the while, Squidward held Spongebob’s squeaky little hand, and did not let go for a second -- even when the medics finally arrived. By then, things looked good: Spongebob was regenerating normally. But he still hadn’t woken up yet.
When the medics left, Squidward almost fell asleep holding onto Spongebob’s hand. That’s when Sandy showed up, right beside him.
“Hey,” she said. Her tone was friendly, but her concern was clear.
“Hey,” said Squidward, giving Spongebob’s hand a gentle squeeze.
Sandy hesitated for a while. Then, with blunt simplicity, she said, “I think he could make ya happy, Squidward. If ya let him.”
A funny feeling settled in the pit of Squidward’s stomach. Looking down at Spongebob’s resting, peaceful face, the octopus replied, “But what if I hurt him?”
The squirrel shrugged. “If you’re already worried about it, I’d say that ain’t gonna happen.”
Squidward found himself smiling, despite himself. “Thanks, Sandy.”
She shook her head, laughing to herself. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Just tired o’ watching y’all play hard to get, is all.”
-0-
At some point, Larry, Patrick, and Sandy went to grab food, in case Spongebob woke up and needed sustenance … leaving Squidward to man the helm. Come nightfall, the sponge finally stirred.
Immediately, Squidward sat up -- just as Spongebob sat up, too, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. Then, he laughed -- thank Neptune for that laugh -- and turned to face Squidward, enthusiastically.
“Did you see that cool trick I did --” the sponge began, but was interrupted by Squidward, enveloping him in a huge, crushing hug.
“Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” cried the octopus, shaking and shuddering with tears. “You absolute idiot.”
Spongebob, caught off guard, simply held Squidward closer. “You know I regenerate,” said the sponge, slightly muffled by Squidward’s shoulder.
“You were impaled, Spongebob --”
“I was? That’s crazy --”
“Spongebob,” said Squidward, firmly, pulling away from the embrace. Awkwardly, the octopus looked down, sighing heavily. “Look, you … you don’t have to go to extreme lengths just to make me happy.”
Spongebob blinked, then blushed. “Who told you --”
“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted Squidward, whose face had erupted in bright splotches of red. “Just -- just be around me, alright? That’s all you gotta do, is be around me, and suddenly I’m all … stupid, and happy or whatever. Whatever! Alright? You don’t have to do … all of this.” Squidward gestured vaguely to the lodge, and the ski courses beyond.
It was Spongebob’s turn to be red in the face. “That’s … it? That’s all I have to do?”
Squidward sighed, and before he knew what he was doing, pressed a soft, chaste kiss atop Spongebob’s head. “That’s all you’ve ever had to do.”
“Aww,” came a loud voice from directly behind them. When they turned, they found Patrick, Larry, and Sandy in the doorway, holding a bunch of bags from the Barg’N Mart. Patrick was clapping, and in the process dropped the majority of his grocery bags. “Great job, buddy! Mission accomplished!” shouted the seastar, proudly.
Squidward dropped his head into his tentacles. “I hate all of you,” he muttered, despite the small smile curling across his lips.
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vee-vee-writes · 3 years
Text
Reunions (Part 3)
The Hardest Day - Part 3
Part one & Part two
Y/NN = your nickname & Y/N = your (real) name
Taglist: @thewhiteladyofrohan @tschrist1
Word Count: 1.8k
It had been a long day of travel and it was safe to say that Y/NN, like most of the company, was exhausted. However, they were given no rest before Thorin began barking out orders at the company. Fili, Kili, Ori, and Nori were told to collect firewood and water. As the resident cook Bombur had begun to prepare the stew, likely to avoid being snapped at by Thorin. Others shuffled around the area setting up the campsite.
Sighing the dam got up from her spot on the soft grass and made her way over to Bombur, offering to help prepare the nights stew. Bombur smiled widely as she approached. "Do you need any help making supper?" Y/NN questioned gently. He nodded and patted the grass down beside him. "If you could scrape the carrots and potatoes and peel the onion, I will cut them up. I'll get you a bowl to put the peelings into and a knife from my pack" Bombur requested before retrieving the items for her. Although she was unused to the work, the girl made quick work of the vegetables, making small talk with Bombur as they worked. As she was polishing off her work the group of four returned from gathering the nights supplies.  
Y/NN rose to meet them, wanting to help in way that she could. Fili and Kili had begun to set up the campfire in the middle of the site. Retrieving the flint and steel from her pack she was quick to shuffle over to them. Kili was the first to notice her approaching and grinned cheekily at her. The two had become close on the journey, Y/NN spending many long days travelling together. "How are you feeling?" Kili inquired as he helped assemble the campfire. "Tired" Y/NN teased, plopping down next to him, and handing the flint across to Fili. Kili snorted at her answer and Fili smirked a little. Thanking her for the flint and steel, Fili began striking it together to light the fire.
"Well, I better get back to helping Bombur before that uncle of yours comes after me" Y/NN sighed tiredly. Rising from her spot on the grass she gazed around the campsite. Trios of dwarves sat on logs they had rolled over from the surrounding area. On the outskirts she observed Thorin and Balin deep in discussion. 'They're probably pouring over the details for the rest of the journey' she decided. Thorin caught her gaze and raised a thick brow at her. She regarded him for a moment before trudging back over to Bombur to help finish the stew.
-//(Half an hour later)//-
Y/NN wiped her brow with the sleeve of her coat as she admired the hot stew bubbling away over the fire. "Thank you for the help. It took half the time it would have taken me on my own" Bombur thanked as he patted her gently on the shoulder. "It was no problem Bombur, I enjoy helping" Y/NN beamed. He smiled back before beginning to dish out supper.  
One by one each of the company members trekked up to them to grab their bowl. Y/NN picked up her bowl from the three-remaining bowls. Making her way over to the log the Durin brothers were sitting on she noticed Thorin and Balin still wrapped up in their discussion, oblivious to the rest of the company. 'If they are still there when I have finished dinner then I will bring it to them' she promised herself.
The brothers greeted her and made room on the log for the dam. Settling down in between them on the log she began eating her stew before pausing. She questioned whether Fili and Kili would think her nosey asking after other people but then her curiosity got the better of her. "What do you think your uncle and Balin are talking about?" Y/NN queried, "they've been far too long to just be discussing tactical movements and supplies for the journey." The brothers seemed taken aback by the question but then Fili admitted, "To be honest with you, I am not completely sure. I tried to speak with them earlier but was promptly sent away." "Whatever it is then it must be secret." Kili concluded.
Hesitating Fili sucked in a breath before uttering "It was about you, Y/NN." The dam's eyes widened. "What about me? I know Thorin doesn't like me but surely I have proved my loyalty to the company by now" Y/NN exclaimed frustrated. "I didn't hear much but he was…suspicious of your identity. He thinks you are some sort of noble lady" Fili disclosed, "So are you?" Both young darrow looked at her, eyes gleaming with the anticipation of her answer.
"My mother belongs to clan Stiffbeards so yes by association I am a noble lady" she confirmed, "but I'm not here for money or my own gain. I'm here because a long time ago I made a promise to someone" she confessed. "And who would you have made this promise to" a strong baritone voice spoke from behind her. Whipping her head around Y/NN was confronted with Thorin standing staunch, clench jawed, and arms crossed in front of her. His eyes bore deeply into her as if he was judging the very fabric of her sole, weighing up her existence.  
"Well?" he boomed at her. Never had she ever thought those eyes that had once regarded her with love and compassion would look at her with such harshness and anger. "Thorin, calm down. Let us go about this in a calm manner" Balin stated, attempting to appeal to Thorin's more rational side. "It is bad enough that Gandalf has forced this woman upon us but now she is keeping secrets too" Thorin snapped.  
By now all of the company was watching the unfolding events. Mixed reactions painted their faces as she scanned them. Many adverted their eyes as she met them, but others met her gaze in defiance, distrust clear in their eyes. As panic welled up inside of her, her lip started to quiver. "I-I can explain everything please. I promise that there is a good reason that I am here" she choked out. Thorin cocked an eyebrow but motioned for her to continue. "I am here for you. The promise I made was to you. My real name is Y/N" Y/NN cried out, a flurry of tears beginning to drip down her cheeks.
His expression remained neutral but anyone who knew Thorin well enough could see the array of emotions that danced through his eyes, confusion, realisation, and excitement. "Y/N, my nathith (daughter)?" Thorin questioned alarmed. By now a flurry of tears was streaming down her cheeks but she nodded as she choked out a sob. Reaching out with a shaky hand she fumbled with the buttons to the pocket on her coat before managing to undo it.
From inside she retrieved a small white handkerchief which she unwrapped to reveal a small silver bead. Thorin let out a strangled cry before dropping to his knees in front of her. He cupped her hands with his larger warm calloused hands, staring at the bead sitting on the handkerchief in her hands. "I-why are you here? You should be safe with your amad's (mother's) kin" Thorin managed. "I missed you adad. It's been over 60 years since amad and I left…I thought you'd forgotten me since you never visited" Y/N whimpered.
Thorin's eyes snapped up to meet hers and he brought one hand up to cup her cheek. "I would never forget about you mizimith (jewel that is young). Not a day has gone by since your mother took you away that I have not thought about you" Thorin soothed. Gazing into his eye’s Y/N watched the storm of emotions stirring in his eyes as they became red rimmed. This eased her mind a bit, he had missed her as much as she had missed him. With no face-to-face visits it had been hard to tell how he truly felt, her adad had always been more reserved emotionally.
Y/N turned her attention back to the bead in her hand, "I brought this back for you. You once told me that this bead symbolises the future of our kin and that when you took back our home that I should bring it to you." "We haven't taken Erebor back yet so why are you giving it to me now?" Thorin's tone was laced with confusion.
"No, we haven't. But right now, the fifteen of us hold the future of a race in our hands. No matter what our actions will decide the fate of all dwarves. Take back our home or not, this is the course we have set, and we must stand together and strong as we charge ahead" Y/N preached, looking to all of the company. Focusing her attention back to Thorin she tenderly stated, "If this bead really does symbolise our future, then you should wear it with pride as we carry on." With that she freed her hand from within his grasp and used it to place the bead in the centre of his hand. Thorin curled his fingers around it, playing with the bead for a moment.
A stray tear began to streak down his cheek. "Forgive me for the way I have treated you, I thought so ill of you when you had the purest of intentions for our kin. I thought you were a noble woman looking to improve your station" he croaked out. "I forgive you adad, even if your misgivings hurt me, I understand wanting to protect your own" she murmured to him before pressing her forehead to his in an intimate familial gesture. Thorin brought his hand up to the back of her head to hold her closer together then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Would you braid it into my hair for me?" Thorin whispered to her. Y/N nodded, a large smile creeping over her lips.
The company went back to catching quietly around the campfire to give the two a moment of privacy, Fili and Kili moving to sit amongst them. Thorin sat down cross legged on the grass while Y/N went to retrieve a comb from her pack. After finding her comb the dam went back to perch by her adad's side, getting to work on combing and braiding his hair. They sat in silence as she worked, revelling in one another's company at long last. Eventually she broke the silence, "I need the bead to cap off your braid adad." Wordlessly Thorin handed it to her with care. She capped the braid off and took a moment to admire the braid. It was the signature braid of Durin's heir's, worn by all members of the King's close family. "Thank you Khajimel (gift of all gifts). I will wear this bead with pride, knowing that your words have given it more weight" Thorin smiled, eyes soft with adoration for his daughter. "Now come I will adorne your hair with the braid of our house and kinship so that any dwarf who sees you knows how precious you are."
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jenonctcity · 4 years
Text
My Ending - Part 1
Differences – Na Jaemin
Part of the Bad Boy Series.
Badboy!Au, Streetracer!Au
Disclaimer: This is going to be a very dark themed story, please do not read if you are triggered easily by the mentioned subjects in the warnings. 
I recommend reading Jeno’s story first so that it’s easier for you to understand the timeline and plot of this story.
Warnings: Minor Character Death, Mention of Suicide Attempts, Mental Health Issues (Depression and Anxiety), Mentions of Drug Use/Overdose, Mention of Drug Addiction Effecting Baby After Birth. 
Word Count: 5k
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Jaemin was used to living his life in black and white. His whole life had always been a mix of muggy grey, never having experienced enough positive emotion for a long enough period that flecks of colour could mix into his greyscale life. Of course he had happy moments, excited moments, moments of enthusiasm, and moments of hope. He wasn’t a robot. But he found that it was the sad moments, fearful moments, moments of anxiety, and moments of anger that outweighed all other emotions and lead his world to darken in colour. It all started when he was born. Born to a drug addict mother, and a father who had long since ran away from the responsibilities of raising a child. He had been born a month early  with his body uncontrollably shaking, his body craving the heroin that his mother had been shooting when she was carrying him. He had been taken from her immediately and his grandmother on his fathers’ side had stepped up to take on the responsibility of raising the precious, underdeveloped baby.
The first few years of Jaemin’s life had been rough. He was significantly smaller than most of the children his age, and he didn’t start walking until he was two years old, almost a year later than he should have, and he had such a low immune system that he was constantly falling ill and being taken in and out of hospital. It was a tough challenge for his grandmother, but she adored her little miracle and did everything she could to keep him alive and happy. They’d hoped that Jaemin’s growth would catch up with him by the time he started school, but their hopes didn’t pan out, and he was still much smaller than all of the other children. On top of that, he struggled to keep up with the level of learning and was picked on by the other children for his tiny frame, lack of knowledge, and also, lack of parents. His teenage years weren’t much better. Even though he soon caught up with everybody in the height and education department, it wasn’t the bullying that bothered him anymore, it was the emotional scars that sat inside of his head like a poisonous fog, taunting him like those kids had through all of his school years.
He couldn’t understand why his mother had done what she’d done, and why she didn’t love him in the way a mother should love her son. He had seen his mother so little that he could count each encounter on one of his hands. Which is why as he walked back into the apartment, wearing his suit and holding the funeral programme that had a picture of his mother on the front, he felt numb. He let out a soft sigh as he sat down on the sofa beside Jeno, chucking the papers onto the coffee table in front of him and running a hand through his blond hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. Jeno didn’t physically react to Jaemin’s arrival apart from letting a soft smile tug at the corners of his lips. After a silence of five minutes with Jaemin just started absentmindedly into thin air, Jeno spoke up.
“How did it go?” Jeno’s voice was soft, his head still facing towards the quiet television as reruns of spongebob played.
“How did you know it was me?” Jaemin glanced at his blind friend, raising an eyebrow and trying not to put too much amusement in his tone, not feeling like he should be joking around after being to his mother’s funeral.
“Haechan is in his room, and Renjun is out picking Jiyeon up. I heard the door open and couldn’t hear Jiyeon shouting for one of her uncles so I just did the mystery solving and figured out it would be you.” He shrugged, a weak laugh vibrating off of his chest before he sighed. “You didn’t answer my question Jaem.” Jaemin sighed once more, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs and resting his head back against the sofa.
“It was fine…” He couldn’t quite pinpoint the feelings rushing around inside of him. He felt anger, sadness, a dash of regret, but mostly relief. Anger because he was angry that she never made a proper effort with him, just brushing him aside and acting as if the drugs she owned were her precious child rather than the actual baby she’d made and given birth to. Sadness because he could never make amends with her and have the bond that most mothers and sons have. Regret because he knew once he hit the age of sixteen and was able to make sensible decisions for himself, he could have been the one to make the effort. And relief because he knew he didn’t have to spend nights worrying if the money he had sent his mother was being used to buy drugs instead of keeping food in her mouth. Relief because she couldn’t hurt herself anymore. Relief because the reason his depression was gone. Not that she took his mental health problems with her to the grave, but it gave Jaemin a horribly sick satisfaction that he could only diagnose as revenge. Which made him want to weep at how his brain could even think of something as horrid at that. Jaemin felt awful that he was thankful for Jeno’s blindness, so that he couldn’t see the tears that dribbled down his cheeks, silent sobs for the mother he spent so many nights crying over as a child, wishing for the mother he never had.
“Are you sure? It’s okay not to be okay.” Jaemin wanted to squeeze Jeno for how sweet the boy was being, but he just let out a huff of a laugh and wiped his tears away. He glanced down at his hands, gulping back the lump in his throat as his mind drifted to the nervous breakdown that Jeno had experienced only a week prior. Jeno had hit his breaking point and had expressed how much he worries about Jaemin, because of Jaemin’s previous failed suicide attempts that had clearly chipped away at Jeno’s mental stability. Jaemin felt the pit in his stomach he usually got when he was at his lowest mentally, but he didn’t want to pile more worries onto Jeno’s plate, so he faked a smile, despite Jeno’s lack of sight, it was more for himself than anyone else. Besides, it had been over two years since Jaemin had last attempted to take his own life, and he felt like he’d moved on from that stage of his life. He hoped.
“I’m fine, you haven’t got to worry about me.”
“Okay, because my kid is going to need its Uncle Nana to be a happy bastard not a moody bastard.” Jeno let out an amused laugh, trying to lighten the tone. It worked, the thought of Jeno’s unborn child bringing a big smile to his face.
“Uncle Nana is going to be its favourite per-” Jaemin was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. He fished it out of his blazer pocket and answered it quickly when he saw the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Mr Na?” An unfamiliar male voice sounded through the phone, the voice calm and deep.
“It is.”
“I’m just calling to inform you that your grandmother has had a fall, the paramedics are with her now and the carer who was there when it happened is still there. I’ve been told that there hasn’t been any extensive damage, but I thought it would be best to let you know, as you’re the emergency contact.” Jaemin felt his world almost crumble in on him for a moment, the words about her not having much damage cooled him down slightly, but the panicked fire burning in his stomach was still very much alight.
“Okay, thank you for letting me know.” He hung up the call and gulped down the fireball of anxiety blazing in his throat. He was on his feet before he knew it, digging his keys out of his pocket. “My grandma fell over; I’ll be back soon.” He mumbled to Jeno, his mind foggy so he didn’t even hear Jeno’s gasp and quick ‘Is she okay!?’ before he was out of the door, sprinting down the stairs, and practically jumping into his car. He didn’t even look at the speed he was driving at because he didn’t care, all he cared about was seeing his grandmother and confirming the man on the phones statement that she was okay. He stopped out the front of her house and ran to the door, letting himself in with shaky hands and looking at the paramedics as they packed up their stuff in the entranceway.
“I’m her grandson, is she okay?!” His words came out so fast that the paramedic he’d aimed the question at almost didn’t understand what he’d said. “Is she?!” He repeated, a sheen of sweat on his forehead from his panic.
“She is, son,” The male paramedic addressed Jaemin, giving him a calming smile and pat on the arm. “We’ve given her some pain medication, and she’ll have a large bruise on her hip, but she didn’t fall hard enough to break anything. She’s just gone to sleep; I would leave it a little while before you disturb her though.” Jaemin nodded along, taking in all of the information with a small sigh of relief.
“Okay, thank you so much for taking care of her.” They bid their goodbyes and left, shutting the door behind them as Jaemin made his way into the kitchen. He stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway, his eyes trained on you stood by the kitchen sink with your back to him, wearing what looked like hospital scrubs over the tops of a long-sleeved floral top. Your shoulders were shaking gently as you let out all of your emotions, having assumed you were now alone in the house seeing as you heard the front door shut. Jaemin cleared his throat, causing you to squeal in surprise and turn around fast, a spatula that you’d grabbed out of the washing up bowl now in your hand being held up as a weapon.
“Who are you?!” Your eyes were wide, and if it wasn’t so comical, Jaemin would have been absolutely speechless from how stunning he found your features. He had an amused smile on his face as he quickly held his hands up in surrender.
“My name is Jaemin, I’m the grandson! Please don’t…spatula me.” You sighed in relief, lowering the spatula onto the drying rack. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I apologise.” He stepped forward, giving you a small bow. You bowed back and smiled politely, trying to ignore the heat that flooded your cheeks from the embarrassing encounter, also he was gorgeous, and it took you by surprise. You suddenly remembered your wet cheeks, using the back of your hand to wipe your tears away. “Are you okay?”
“Apology accepted, I’m (Y/N), I’m fine…it was just, really…hard to watch you know?” You nodded, sending him a weak smile with a quick nod. He tilted his head and poked his tongue into his cheek in thought.
“You’re my grandma’s carer?” He took a seat at the dining table, fiddling with the tablemat as he kept his eyes on you. The more you looked at him, the more you recognised him from the photos that were dotted around the house. He looked a lot different though, more mature and with more tattoos. One of the tattoos that you noticed were the roman numerals vertically written on his neck, just underneath his left ear, you were curious as to what the number was and to what it meant. He looked handsome in his suit, and you wondered what the occasion was as to why he was wearing such formal wear.
“I am, I haven’t seen you here before…she talks about you a lot.”
“All good things I hope.” He chuckled, giving you a cheeky wink. You felt the wink inside of your stomach and giggled nervously.
“She adores you!” You sat opposite him at the table, brushing some of your hair behind your ear as you thought about all the stories, she’d told you over the past few months that you’d been one of her carers. “I’m surprised I haven’t bumped into you before; she says you visit her a lot.” You furrowed your eyebrows, not being able to understand why you hadn’t seen him in person before.
“I usually visit in the evening times, but I have met a few of the other carers who stop by.” You were only one of the carers from the company who stopped by her house daily. Jaemin was incredibly thankful to the people who took care of his grandma when he couldn’t. He had moved out of her house on his own accord just after Jeno was arrested. He knew he was getting too much of a burden on his grandma, coming home late, throwing up on the carpet when he was too drunk and scaring her when he would admit to being high. And for good reason, considering how he was born addicted to heroin. But despite how much shit Jaemin had gone through in his life, he’d promised his grandmother that he’d never consume heroin. He didn’t want his grandma to be stressed over him, so when the opportunity came about to move in with his friends, he snatched it up as soon as he could. A year after moving out, his grandma stopped being able to get around as much as she could before, and the simplest of tasks got too much for her. So Jaemin took it upon him to hire a carer company to come in throughout the day and cook her meals, wash her clothes, and keep her house tidy. He felt bad that he couldn’t do it himself, but with his dodgy job, he either didn’t have the time, or didn’t want anything bad to happen which could be traced back to his grandma’s house. He dealt with a lot of dangerous people in illegal street racing, and he couldn’t risk his grandmother’s life, that’s why his visits were scarce and in the evening times when it was less likely he was being tracked by anyone. “I must say, you’re definitely the beautiful one.” He winked shamelessly, causing your face to flush. You had to stop yourself from letting out a whine at the compliment, not used to being complimented like that by men you’d only just met.
“Thank you.” A smile tugged at your lips, your hands coming to rest on your hot cheeks. Jaemin smirked and bit his bottom lip, his eyes flicking over your face subtly as he checked you out. You felt your phone ding in your pocket, signifying that you had finished your time at that house and had to move onto the next. “Oh, I have to get going. It was nice meeting you.” You jumped up from the table, grabbing your jacket from the coat rack by the front door and slipping it on. Jaemin followed you and dug his hands into his pockets.
“Likewise.” He opened the door for you and motioned for you to go through first. “I should get going anyway.” He had a race tonight and he needed to get himself ready for it, mentally and physically. He locked the door behind you both and walked down the path to his car. You paused, your mouth popping open as you laid eyes on his expensive looking car.
“Woah…is that yours?!” You almost squeaked, your eyes flicking from the Navy-Blue Mustang Shelby GT350, back to Jaemin. He looked very proud, his posture straightening out and a wide smile on his face.
“Yep!”
“Woooow…” You looked over at your own car, it was super cheap, and you were probably the fifth owner of the run-down looking thing. “It a lot nicer than mine.” You laughed awkwardly, getting out your key to unlock the door, you put your key in the hole and jiggled it around, trying desperately to unlock the old piece of crap. The door almost flew open after you’d succeeded in opening it, and Jaemin smiled kindly at you. “Anyway, see ya around Jaemin!” You hopped into your car, not giving him a chance to reply as you started the rickety engine and slowly drove away. Jaemin got in his own car and let out a soft sigh as he thought back on your slightly odd exchange. He didn’t know you, but he knew he wanted to know you. And he had the perfect plan.
---
Jaemin probably should have felt bad that he was only visiting his grandma twice as much as he normally would because he was hoping and praying to run into you again. His grandma had sensed something was up, and he didn’t even have to admit to her, she already knew that he had the hots for you. Many of his attempts of being at her house when you were there were successful, and he’d helped you in your daily tasks of helping around the house until you heard the familiar sound of your phone alerting you that it was time to leave. He hated that sound. You saw Jaemin as a happy, positive soul, who would do anything to make you laugh. It worked, he often had you in absolute stitches with his comical stories about his friends and the pranks they played on each other. He found out a lot about your life, like how you came from a large family, the oldest of four children and you still lived with your parents due to your job not paying a huge amount of money. He was curious to know why you didn’t bother going to university, instead jumping straight into work life. When he’d asked, you’d simply told him that you just couldn’t wait to start your life, not wanting to spend anymore time in education. It was when you expressed your want to get married and have kids within the next ten years that had Jaemin’s head confirming what his heart was thinking. He had a huge crush on you. It was after you’d found out that the numbers written on his neck signified the date of his grandmothers’ birth, that you realised you had a big fat crush on him too. Jaemin always wore long sleeves shirts, or hoodies, so you didn’t know if he had anymore tattoos on his body apart from the neck tattoo and the rose tattoo on the back of his right hand. But you were curious to find out.
With a stomach full of butterflies, a whole month after your first encounter, Jaemin had finally asked you out. So that’s why you found yourself sat opposite the beautiful boy in a café at 1pm on your day off. His hair was now a light pink, and you thought it suited his face and personality perfectly. He had on a long-sleeved white shirt, with black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. It completing his aesthetic off flawlessly. Also you’d gotten to ride in his fancy car, which was exciting in its own, since you’d never been in a car that expensive before. Jaemin sipped at his black coffee, his eyes meeting your own and causing a tender smile to tug at his lips as he continued on with his story.
“And Jiyeon, Renjun’s daughter, threatened to pee on the floor if she didn’t get a cookie. You should have seen Chenle’s face, it was a comedy gold!” He laughed at the memory, picking at the muffin between you both. He had told you about all of his friends, so you were kind of keeping up with the names. He talked about Chenle a lot.
“Did she get the cookie?” You needed to know how the story finished, your eyes sparkling as you found out more and more about the mysterious boy opposite you. So far all you knew was that his grandmother raised him because his mother was a drug abuser, she died recently, and he lived with the boys he saw as brothers, which included the kids and girlfriends of said brothers. He’d also dished out the gossip on Haechan’s current girlfriend being Jeno’s ex-girlfriend, and Jeno now being blind with a baby on the way. Quite the scandal.
“Of course she did! Uncle Nana gave it to her.” He smiled widely and raised his eyebrows. You titled your head in confusion.
“Uncle Nana?” You asked, curiosity in your tone about this mysterious Uncle Nana.
“That’s me, my last name is Na, so I got the nickname Nana when I was growing up. Nana is easier to say than Jaemin when you’re a toddler.” He popped some of the muffin into his mouth and licked his lips.
“Cute!” Your eyebrows raised and you gazed at him with adoration in your eyes.
“You think so?” He winked, loving all the attention you bestowed upon him, even if cute wasn’t really the image he was going for.
“Mhm!” You sipped at your lemonade and gazed out of the window, seeing Jaemin’s car parked where you’d both left it and turning back to Jaemin. “You must have a good job to afford a car that…wow!” You didn’t miss the way Jaemin’s eyes avoided your gaze, leading you to believe there was more to him owning the car than just a normal job.
“I…okay I’m going to be transparent with you.” He sat up in his chair, leaning in closer to you across the table so that he could lower his voice, audible for only you to hear. “I race cars. That’s not my only car, I have a garage with four other cars in it and I race them to earn my living.” He kept his eyes locked with yours, trying to determine your reaction simply from the look in your eyes. Jaemin liked to think he was good at reading people. He’d been doing it his whole life, having experienced plenty of different emotions from people throughout his life. He couldn’t see anything other than question in your eyes as your narrowed them, trying to wrap your head around it.
“Oh!...is it…legal?” You whispered, running your hand up and down your glass, the condensation on the cold glass smearing and forming little droplets of water under the ministrations of your fingertips. He shook his head, an awkward smile marring his beautiful features.
“No, it’s not. If you get caught racing, you get fined. If you get caught racing more than once, you get your vehicle seized and fined. Then its three strikes and you’re out. Prison time is the punishment for getting caught a third time.” His words had your mouth opening in shock, a little gasp leaving your throat.
“Have you ever been caught?” You didn’t really know how to feel about his confession. You hadn’t ever thought about your opinions on illegal street racing, and it wasn’t fair for you to make a quick judgement about something you knew nothing about, despite it being illegal. It wasn’t really any of your business, so you didn’t care too much. The way you saw it, if you didn’t do anything illegal yourself, then you weren’t in the wrong.
“Nope, I have come close, but no, I’m pretty good at outrunning the police.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself as he sipped at his coffee. “If you aren’t comfortable with it, then we haven’t got to talk about it. I can keep it quiet from you, or we could…go our separate ways after I take you home. It’s your decision.” He sounded slightly sad as he spoke the last words, his head lowering slightly to watch your fingers playing with your glass.
“Oh, no! I…er…like you a lot, and I want to see you again, obviously only if you want to!” Your cheeks felt like they were about to burst into flames, your heart suddenly making you aware of its existence in your chest.
“I want to.” His voice was soft, and his hand snaked across the table to detach your hand from your glass. He wound your fingers together and a pink tinge that resembled the pink rose tattoo on the back of his hand flared up on his cheeks.
“Cool!” You blurted out and then used your free hand to face palm, cringing at your random word vomit.
“Very cool.” Jaemin laughed with you, grabbing your hand to pull it away from your face. “I guess we’re both just super cool!” You both visibly cringed at that and sniggered.
---
The next week was a complete rush for you. But a good rush, a rush you wouldn’t change. You had work five days out of seven, and as soon as your shift had finished, Jaemin would pick you up from your house, and whisk you away on a date. So far, you’d eaten in 7 different restaurants and had enjoyed every single minute of your time with your new boyfriend. That’s right, boyfriend. The two of you made it official on date number three after you both realised that you were basically perfect for each other. The night had ended in a sweet kiss and a long cuddle on your doorstep, which your siblings had roasted you for when you’d walked through the door, because obviously they’d been spying on your from the window as soon as they heard the loud purr of Jaemin’s car stop outside. And on your two days off, Jaemin had spent the both of days entertaining you and impressing you with his date spots. One of your favourite moments was when Jaemin had asked you if you trusted him whilst he was driving. You didn’t even hesitate to give him a quick nod and utter ‘yes’. You felt such a rush inside of you when the car speed up so fast that you felt yourself being pushed into your seat. You also felt a rush at how quickly you’d put your trust in a man you had only known for a month, a man who had admitted to doing illegal things. Jaemin had kept glancing at you, his heart blooming with an unfamiliar feeling when he saw the look of pure joy etched on your angelic face as you found elation in his passion. Of course he kept his driving on the safer side in order not to scare you, and even though he was confident in his driving abilities, keeping you safe was his new priority.
Day number 8 of your date streak found you sitting in Jaemin’s bedroom, legs folded underneath you as you sat opposite Jaemin with a glass of wine in your hand, one of his large hoodies covering up your cocktail dress to keep you warm. You’d been to a bar with him hours earlier, and you’d both drank a little bit too much. So his invite for you to join him in his bedroom had quickly been accepted, and there you sat, sipping at your wine as you laughed at a corny joke he’d cracked.
“Jaemiiiin,” You whined endearingly, leaning your forehead on his shoulder and hiccupping. “I want to know more about you, we should play never have I ever!” Your tipsy brain had you thinking that was the best idea ever, and Jaemin seemed to think the same thing, as he jumped at the opportunity, causing you to sit back again and grin at him.
“Okay! Me first.” He cleared his throat and took a quick mouthful of beer. “Okay, never have I ever…tried oysters.” You sniggered at his choice of words, furrowing your eyebrows at him and not raising your glass.
“I haven’t either! Okay, never have I ever…smoked a cigarette.” He rolled his eyes and raised his bottle of beer to his lips, gulping down a mouthful before pausing to rack his brain for things he hadn’t ever done.
“Never have I ever worn high heels!”
“Oh come on that’s not fair!” You squeal but didn’t hesitate to take a big swig of your wine. “Fine, I’m turning the heat up. Never have I ever had sex anywhere other than on a bed.” You were actually taken aback when he made no effort to drink, a smirk growing on his face. “You haven’t?!” You raised your eyebrows, placing your glass of wine on his bedside table and shuffling closer to him on your knees. He shook his head, biting his bottom lip as he placed his hands gently on your hips, guiding you into his lap.
“You’re surprised.” He laughed softly at his observation, his eyes flicking down to your lips before he leaned in and placed a lingering, hot kiss to your parted lips.
“You’re so hot and kind, I just thought you’d be…kind of experienced in that department.” His lips nipped at your own lips, drawing a silkey kiss between you with his tongue coming out to trace the lining on your bottom lip. “Your turn.” You whispered, sitting all of your weight onto his crotch, confident with how he pulled you closer to his own, warm body. He took a deep breath, a deep laugh vibrating from his chest as he kissed down to your jaw, leaving hot kisses on your smooth skin. His next confession had your heart pounding in adoration and your mouth popping open in surprise.
“Never have I ever…had sex.”
---
So this is the start to the end main parts of the series! What are we thinking is going to happen? Let me know! (Please be nice lol) <3
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seoulnotes · 4 years
Text
An Endless Summer — jjk
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S Y N O P S I S | Jeon Jungkook decided to road trip across Europe—with the money his father had sent him overseas with so he could fix his act. Then maybe, might have picked up a lost and penniless girl at a gas station in London and proceeded to road trip with her across Europe cause why the heck not?
P A I R I N G | Jeon Jungkook, reader (y/n)
G E N R E | fluff, some angst (minuscule), romance, inexplicit ~smut~ (smut nonetheless, you’ve been warned) — road trip au ; NC-17
W A R N I N G S | mild cursing
W O R D C O U N T | 19.7k (aka, the longest one ever)
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Seoul, South Korea
Jeon Jungkook would've played the perfect part for a drama. He would've set a flawless example of a rich, young heir gone wild if it hadn’t been such a negative title.
Jungkook was the type of man to live life by the second and enjoy every last drop of it. There were no such things as planning ahead for him, not even a week ahead. He partied till he saw the sun barely peeking over the horizon, drank as much alcohol his system could handle, at least before blacking out, and threw money around like it was pocket change. Hell, a couple hundred thousand won to him was pocket change.
Sure, he had his few flings here and there, but it was never too deep. Who would want to be tied down at such a young age?
And oh boy, did the media love to eat this all up before spitting it back out for the rest of the world to see in the worst form possible. The headlines would’ve been enough to give his parents a headache, not to mention nearly stopping his father’s heart every time he saw a new “scandal” involving his son.
Heir Jeon Jungkook with a mysterious woman? –He had been offering to buy her a drink. In fact, she had even rejected his offer for the drink that night. The photo was caught just as he slid the drink to her.
Jeon Jungkook, heir to Jeon Empire, in a bar fight?! –Okay, maybe a few punches were thrown. ‘But the asshole had it coming the moment he threw that insult at me,’ was what Jungkook explained it to his father as. That prompted a cut to one of his credit cards.
You'd think after that, Jungkook would take things down a couple notches. In fact, it was the complete opposite when he decided to take it up a few notches.
The list could’ve gone on with plenty more articles. Sure, he messed around a lot, but he wasn’t as bad as the media portrayed him as. It was clearly exaggerated. Yet, the lifestyle he lived wasn't ideal, at least not the one his father wanted him living in the public eye.
Jungkook liked to call it: simply living it up before he gets tied down to the company.
On the other hand, his father liked to call it: he’s completely out of his mind and needs to fix his act immediately.
And that is exactly why Jungkook is now sitting on the top floor CEO office of the main building of Jeon Empires with his father pacing before him while he, himself, was sitting with a foot casually resting over his knee as he leaned back into the leather seat.
“Jeon Jungkook, when are you going to get your act together?” Another exasperated sigh as the man’s hand went to his temples as if a quick massage would relieve his headache.
The question had Jungkook bringing up a hand to brush his hair back in annoyance. He rolled his eyes, surely his father wouldn’t catch it, or he would be sitting in deeper shit than he was now. Although this retort wasn't any better: “I haven’t done anything! The media blows everything out of proportion!”
The disrespectful tone laced in his tone had his father rubbing a hand down his face with another sigh. Jungkook had pushed his luck too far. “Get your act together. Go home, pack your bags, you’re going overseas to finish the summer and university before returning as a mature young man.”
The words caused Jungkook to perk up in his chair. “I am mature,” he retorted.
Personal grave dug? Check.
“You are not. You are acting like a boy, a child,” his father reached towards the desk behind him and picked up the pile of paper sitting on it. In one swift movement, the pile was dumped on the coffee table in front of Jungkook, spreading out messily for him to see the titles in all their glory.
Those damn articles.
“You are dismissed,” his father’s back was turned to him and all Jungkook could do was stand up, bow promptly, and leave the room. “Your mother will see to it you are packed and ready to leave in two days. I will not be there for your departure.”
It took all Jungkook had in him to not slam the door on the way out. The rage seeping through him almost had him blow a red light on the way home. He had barely managed to stop behind the line for pedestrians leaving a screeching sound in its wake. A sigh left his lips before he hit the wheel with his enclosed fist.
“What the fuck.”
And here he was, two days later, standing in the midst of a crowded airport as people buzzed around to make it to their flight while Jungkook wanted to do nothing more than walk as slowly as possible. Like hell, he didn’t even want to board his flight.
“Jungkook-ah,” his mother pulled him into a tight hug before running her hand in circles on his back. “I'll try to talk to your father and ask him to let you come home early.” She gave him a soft smile. She was always by his side to fill the void his father left behind. Though even at times, she scolded him for his reckless behavior, she saw the youth bloom in her son. He wanted to live it, not spend it being tied down to the title of “heir”. He was only twenty-two at the end of the day. “Just try to be a bit more responsible, hm? It's not always best to act irrationally.”
He knew what she had meant. She wanted him to be more mature; to think about the image of his family and company before taking any damaging actions.
The request she tagged on didn’t sit well with Jungkook, but he knew better. This farewell meant it would be a while before he would see his mother again. He nodded, complying with her request. “I'll try.”
“Goodbye, Jungkook-ah,” she patted his back once more before pulling away.
It was a bittersweet goodbye. He walked through those gates not knowing when he would step foot in Korea again. He turned to wave goodbye at his mother before stepping passed to security.
“I'm sorry sir, you can't be here.” The woman politely refused as she handed him back his ticket.
This entire trip wasn't going to be well for him. Security was the worst, of course. Now he was being refused into the first-class lounge. “Why not?” The irritation was clear in his voice as he gripped the ticket in hand.
“Sir, your ticket isn’t for first class.” Although she, herself, had slightly questioned the class he was taking judging by the attire the young man had worn. The Rolex watch that peeked through the folded sleeve of his shirt, a white dress shirt, with the first few buttons undone casually, the duffle bag he carried with the Saint Laurent brand name stitched across the leather in their signature ‘YSL’; why was he sitting in economy?
When checking his plane ticket once again, his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets and his jaw dropped wide open.
Economy class. The words were laid on the ticket in clear print. He had known his father to cruelly force him to take an airplane instead of one of the jets they owned, but he had at least expected first class.
It took all the self-control he could muster to not rip up the plane ticket and demand his father for a new one, one for first class.
“Excuse me, one second,” he gave the woman a brief and forced smile, one that meant he was trying his best to remain a decent composed human. He turned around quickly, reaching in his pocket to grab his phone. It was the first number on speed dial.
“Hello, this is Mr. Jeon speaking,” a casual voice answered. If Jungkook wasn't in such a dire situation, he would've noticed his father had switched phones again, and forgot to put his own son as a contact.
“Father, why (the fuck) am I flying in economy?” Jungkook seethed into the phone. He had considered adding the colorful language in the question but made the wise decision not to.
“Why would you need first class?” There was a certain tone behind the man’s opposition; his voice had a certain questionable edge. He was pushing Jungkook on edge as a threat; a threat to keep him in check because if he wasn't, things like this could be regular for him.
“Get me a first-class ticket. I won't be flying in economy,” the last part was seethed in a whisper as he clutched onto the phone.
“Goodbye Jungkook and enjoy your flight,” and with that, his father ended the call. He just ended the first battle and held the flag of victory while Jungkook was forced into a retreat.
His phone rang with a message:
[12:45 PM] Father: You will be taking economy class to the states and making sure it is that flight. If you do not leave on that flight, I will cut all your cards.
Jungkook rolled his eyes at the message almost sure his father wouldn't do that to him. Surely, the next message was enough to end his rebellious thoughts.
His phone rang:
[12:46 PM] Father: Do not doubt me. I will cut them this minute if needed.
Jungkook almost chucked his phone, almost. It only remained in his tight grasp. The phone had a bigger chance of breaking from the pressure of his grip rather than from him throwing it. He shoved his phone in his pocket as he not-so-happily checked the ticket again and made his way to his actual gate, the economy class gate.
For about twelve hours in his flight to London for a layover, Jungkook pitied himself the most on the entire planet. He sat, stuffed in that tiny uncomfortable seat of economy, with whatever asshole wouldn’t stop stretching their legs to hit his seat and an old lady who swore she needed extra arm space so she could read her newspaper, for twelve-fucking-hours.
On the bright side, his father was decent enough to book him a window seat.
The moment Jungkook stepped off the plane, he ran to the nearest ATM to check his credit cards. A sigh of relief passed his lips to realize they were left untouched as his father had promised.
As his mind drifted to the limit on his cards, a plan began forming and slowly, but surely, he found himself at one of those currency exchange booths with a slight smirk forming on his lips.
His father wanted to play hard, but Jungkook wasn't going to be so easily contained.
“Can I get in cash the maximum limit for these?” His English lessons had paid off well when the words came fluently from him. The man behind the booth looked confused as Jungkook pulled the four credit cards from their respective pockets in his wallet.
His cards each had a maximum limit of twenty million won. That amounted to eighty million won in cash and about sixty thousand some Euros. The man looked at Jungkook as if he had just grown three heads in front of him before slowly wiping the expression from his face and pointed toward the ATM again.
“I do not think that is possible here. You can withdraw cash from an ATM if needed. It will be in Euros.”
“Thank you!”
That is how Jungkook ended up with as much money as the ATM had for him to withdraw in a stack sitting with the other stack of cash his father gave him for “safety” in his duffle. He managed to withdraw barely one-fifth of a card. With time on his hands, he skipped about the airport and withdrew the rest of the card bit by bit until he had reached barely his maximum. The others he’ll manage somehow, but it had to be fast before his father found out.
“Can I exchange this?” He was back at the currency exchange booth with the cash his father had given him. The man’s expression was horrified as the stack was dumped on the counter. It remained the same as he counted the Euros in exchange for the cash and handed them over to Jungkook. “Perfect. Thank you,” he placed the money in his duffle. His luggage was sitting in baggage claim by the time he arrived. As he towed his suitcase, he planned his next move.
The plan was simple.
Transfer as much money as he could from his cards to Euros for back up.
Use the cards until his father finds out he isn't in the states.
The backup money will be used; £60,000 some would be enough.
Rent a car, a nice one, and road trip in Europe. (Thank god the border crossings would be no big deal.)
Enjoy his time for the rest of the summer before returning to Korea for the consequences.  
Oh, would Mr. Jeon be so delighted to find out his son is running around in Europe instead of being in the states preparing for another year in University.
Turns out renting a car was tougher than he had thought. As he planned to cross borders, a nice car wasn't an option. That was until he waved an extra couple thousand to convince them for a nice Range Rover.
Jungkook hadn't established where he wanted to go so his first night was spent devising the cities he wanted to visit.
He had three months, let's make it worth it.
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London, the United Kingdom
Jungkook soaked in all he could of the nice hotel room because he knew sooner or later, his card would be cut. He had known he wanted to explore the city at least for a bit so he left his luggage at the room and drove off into the city.
The weather was nice to greet him with rain the moment he had arrived. His luck also ran perfect when a beeping sound told him that the tank was almost empty. Great, what company rents cars without giving at least half a tank nonetheless an empty tank.
So, his first outing in London was spent at a gas station, in the rain.
That's where you first met him. In front of a gas station. In the rain.
Jungkook had paid for the gas and was stopped short at the entrance of the gas station by the heavy rain. It wasn't this heavy when he was just in his car. He ran inside the station to see if he could buy an umbrella. Just his luck, he also stopped at one of the farther pumps.
He saw you soaked in the front of the shop and held the open umbrella over your head.
“If this is your way of trying to pick me up for the night, it isn't going to work,” the faint familiar accent in your English had his ears perk up.
“I wasn't trying to pick you up for the night,” he responded in Korean. “It's called being nice,” the rest in English.
Your jaw dropped when you heard the familiar language. Suddenly you felt more secure having heard your native tongue. “You're Korean? You speak Korean?”
“No, I do not,” he responded back in Korean, the sarcasm thick in his voice. He was still holding the umbrella over the both of you, although it was barely enough to cover you both. The backpack on you were carrying was soaked as well as your shoulder from the one-person umbrella. “Are you a local?”
“Far from it.”
“Then what are you doing here? It's a long way from home.” He had no idea why he suddenly took interest in sparking up a conversation with a stranger at a gas station.
“I could ask you the same.” You finally lifted your head and took a look at the stranger who was shielding you from the rain.
“Didn’t answer my question.”
You scoffed and kicked at the cement. “I’m not about to explain my whole reason being here to a complete stranger.”
A hand stuck in front of you. “I’m Jungkook. Not a stranger, now am I?” He gave you a humorous smile.
And for some strange unknown reason, you grabbed his hand and shook it with a small smile. Then for an even stranger unknown reason, you said, “I’m y/n and I guess not.”
Jungkook stood staring at you with the same interest in his eyes. He was waiting.
You sighed, “You wouldn’t want to hear my story anyway. It's long and way too overly boring.” You crossed your arms and watched as the rain continued to fall. The sound of rain hitting the concrete filled the air as you both stayed silent.
“Lucky for you, I have nothing but time on my hands and how boring the story is, is up for interpretation of the listener, isn’t it?” His smile was nice and made you suddenly want to trust the complete stranger. Perhaps it was his easy charming appearance and curious doe eyes or the comfort of hearing the language of your home.
So that ended up being the time you spilled your entire life story to a random stranger who was nice enough to hold an umbrella for a good half hour in the rain for you.
You always wanted to travel and thought for a split second, dropping everything and taking all the money you had with you to a foreign country would be the best idea. You'd only realized how dumb your plan was when you were locked up on an airplane for eleven hours headed to Europe. It wasn't your biggest mistake actually. The city was beautiful, breathtaking even. It had filled your wanderlust so amazingly. Unfortunately, some cab drivers weren't the nicest upon hearing your foreign accent and decided upon themselves to scam you of your money, especially the last cab you took.
Now here you were, lost and having close to no money, practically penniless, at a gas station in London.
“I thought it was a good idea, to be honest, but look where it got me.” You sighed, it felt like the millionth sigh that left your lips ever since you’ve arrived at this city. It hadn't even been a few days in the foreign city before you had been scammed of so much money. You couldn't even afford a plane ticket back, not like you had even planned to from the beginning.
“Look, it stopped raining.” Jungkook shook the umbrella in front of you slightly before shutting it.
Great, your story had been so long that the rain had stopped. “Sorry about that,” you felt your cheeks heat slightly. The embarrassment was evident; you'd taken too long to explain your story to a stranger.
“Come with me. You can stay with me at my hotel until we fix this.” It was an offer.
“We? This isn't your problem, don't worry yourself. I wasn’t looking for sympathy when I told you what happened.” You let out a laugh at his statement while shaking your head. The after-rain smell began to seep into the air.
“Come on. Just one night. I won't make any moves, I promise,” he held his hands up and you chuckled slightly.
You felt a mutual trust for an odd reason and nodded. Maybe it was because he spoke Korean that gave you the trust. You fished for reasons to accept his offer and that was the only reasonable one. Besides, you didn’t really have anywhere to go. “Okay.”
He took the small suitcase from you and put it in the trunk.
“You're not going to try and rob me of all my money, right?” He joked as you approached the passenger side of the car.
“Of course, I definitely am,” you didn't know whether your response with a joke was appropriate. Your worries settled when you heard a chuckle from his side of the car as he opened the fuel door of the car.
“Thank you,” you let out quietly. You weren’t sure if he heard as you opened the passenger side and sat down.
“You’re welcome.” It came just as you shut the door.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook brought his hands up to the space of the room. The view almost had you floored.
“Are you a millionaire or something?” You sped towards the window before pressing your face against it to get a better look at the city below. The traffic bustled below as people filled the streets in search of a fun night. The nightlife of the city was bright and busy. Looking into the distance of the old city, the buildings were lit up among the Thames and above the buildings, stars lived and shined in the night sky.
“Just have some money saved up and decided to splurge on this trip,” he shrugged as he sat on the couch, pulling his arms behind his head. “You can sleep on the bed if you want. I’ll take the couch.”
Jungkook had no idea what compelled him to hide the fact that it wasn’t just some money saved up. He figured it wasn’t important and definitely not a situation where he needed to be giving any elaborate answers. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. You had indeed told him your circumstances.
As tempting as the offer sounded, you still questioned, “Are you sure? I mean, it’s your room, not mine. The couch is good enough.”
“Well, if you insist,” he jumped onto the bed before stretching his legs out with a wide smile. The sudden action almost had your jaw drop, but it was already shown by your wide eyes. A chuckle slipped from him before he sat up. “I’m just joking. You look like you actually need to sleep. Take the bed.” The tone in his voice meant he wasn't joking.
You smiled sheepishly before dropping your bag on the floor. “Why are you trusting me? I'm a complete stranger.” You could ask yourself the same question about him.
He shrugged before shooting you another smile. “You seem like someone worth trusting.”
Silence settled in the room and you finally took notice of the stranger that offered kindness and light to your shitty situation. I mean besides the stolen glances you took at his side profile on the drive to the hotel. From that, you concurred he was deadly handsome–deadly. This time you notice his bright smile close resemblance to a bunny and how his eyes also carry the same feeling when he smiled.
Then you realized that you were staring for too long and words fell from your lips quickly to cover the silence. “Thank you again, by the way,” you said, as you took a seat at the edge of the mattress. “I'll leave by tomorrow.”
“No problem and you can stay longer if you need,” another smile. You were sure so many people could fall for his easy and kind personality.
You nodded your head in appreciation. But you weren’t going to stay.
The night went by easily. He ordered room service for both of you making you wonder how much he had exactly saved up to be spending money like this in Euros, especially if they had been exchanged from wons.
You did end up sleeping in the bed like he had told you to because, by the end of the meal, he was ready to lay onto the couch with his phone in hand. You kneeled by the couch and unzipped your suitcase, picking up a t-shirt and shorts.
“I’ll go take a shower?” You felt as if you were asking permission. Well, you kind of were. It was still his hotel room and you were still the one intruding. Your thump was aimed towards the bathroom.
“Okay,” his eyes never left his phone.
You closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You really had accepted help from a stranger, and you were in his hotel room. You still wondered if you’d taken the best choice because right now, something about this whole situation screamed stupid to you.
The thought never quite left your mind as you drenched yourself in the hot water, working out the knots in your body. You arrived in the main room with a towel on your neck as you worked to dry your hair.
“Night,” Jungkook reached over to turn the light off in the room. Only the lamp on the nightstand remained on.
You laid underneath the sheets with the will to fight the oncoming sleep as much as possible. Sleeping with your hair wet wasn’t a good thing, but it was nearly impossible when your body grew warm underneath the sheets. Fighting the weight on your eyelids became mission impossible when you fell into the arms of sleep.
You were awakened by the smell of breakfast and woke up to Jungkook drinking coffee and a bag of McDonald’s breakfast on the coffee table. He promptly reminded you breakfast was the most important meal of the day before shoving the paper bag your way, even when you refused.
You almost choked on a piece of the heavenly hash brown when Jungkook suggested—
“Come with me.” The statement was promptly followed by your coughing.
“I’m sorry, what?” You patted on your chest in an attempt to help the coughing. Jungkook chuckled and handed you a bottle of water.
“Come on the rest of the trip with me,” he shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “You want to travel right? So, come with me.” He took another sip of his coffee casually as if his offer was nothing. Your eyes grew wide.
He did know that you’d just met yesterday right? That even if you had joined him, you were broke and there was no way you could pay for gas, food, nonetheless, half of a hotel room.
“That’s not possible.” You said whilst shaking your head.
“Why not?”
“First, we literally just met and are practically strangers. Second, with what money? Did you forget the part where I said I don’t have any?”
Jungkook smiled in amusement before countering back, “First, I thought we went over this yesterday. We’re not strangers, we know each other’s names. Second, with the money I have. There’s enough for this trip and my plus one, who will be you.” He had stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
Your jaw nearly dropped. He was offering to pay for your dream trip, but you weren’t that type of person. It wasn’t right. “Well, I can’t just leech off of you so no.”
“Consider it a gift.”
“No,” your answer would never change. Not in a million years. You sat back and crossed your arms with a look telling him you wouldn’t change your mind.
“Fine,” the smile washed from his face slightly. “I’m going to be staying here for a few more days while I sort out some stuff so stay with me for these days and then tell me your final answer.” He said it as if there was no option for you to decide.
As it turned out, there was absolutely no room for you to decide. Even when you had remained headstrong on not staying with him and spending his money, you lost in the end. Jungkook stood up, fists in the air with a victorious smile when you silenced yourself. There was never room to win from the beginning.
“Only these couple of days and you can leave and be on your way to wherever you’re going next,” you pointed a finger at him. You didn’t know why you agreed, you just did.
“You tell me your answer when these couple days are over. Now, let’s get going,” he hopped up from his spot on the couch, tucking his phone into his pocket.
“Where?” You stood up quickly and paused as you remembered the clothes you had on.
Jungkook paused and brought a hand up to raise a pair of sunglasses to his head. “The bank. I need to sort out something. Go wash up first,” he gave you a cheeky smile as he glanced at your state.
Honestly, you knew you looked like hell. After sleeping in a nice bed for the first time since you've landed here, your hair was in a knotted mess atop your head.
“I'll be out in ten,” you grabbed the bag of toiletries from your suitcase and headed towards the bathroom.
“It took longer than ten minutes. Do you know how long you kept me waiting dying to explore the city?” You heard a hint of humor in his voice. He slipped the sunglasses down the rim of his nose and he stared at you with a funny face and brows raised.
“How long?”
“Eleven minutes. One minute longer than you said,” he pointed an accusatory finger in your direction after tapping his imaginary watch.
“Oh hush,” you gave him a light shove on his shoulder.
His lips split into a grin as he led you from the room, closing the door behind him. “One minute we could be spending doing something exciting!” He shouted behind him.
The hotel lobby was buzzing with people, excited to dive into the city and you two were a part of the madness as Jungkook grabbed your arm and began tugging you towards the door.
He seemed even more excited to enter the city than you. You noticed the huge grin on his face as he raced towards the front door. You stumbled a few steps from his pace. “Someone seems excited,” you commented with a laugh.
The day consisted of Jungkook driving to various banks across the city and a stream of sorrys and ‘I’ll be back in a few, I promise’ coming from him whenever you arrived at a new bank. You couldn’t be upset though because driving across the city meant you could see everything. No, you weren’t exploring, but you were still amazed with wide eyes watching every place you passed by. It was a preview of what was to come when you would actually go out and explore the city.
It did end up taking up the entire day, but as night fell, Jungkook parked his car in an unfamiliar parking lot. The building in front of the parking lot had lights hanging in the front, stringing across the entrance of the restaurant.
“Where are we?” You asked, but Jungkook only got out from his side and approached yours before you’d realized the situation. His hand pulling open the car door.
“My apology for dragging you around the city today: dinner under the stars,” he bowed his head slightly and held his hand out to which you took. “Well, not exactly under the stars, but it’s outdoors so I guess it counts, right?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips as you allowed him to guide you towards the restaurant.
You ended up with a table outside next to the restaurant walls adorned with twinkling lights streamed along the walls.
“A date?” You didn’t know what compelled you to speak exactly what was on your mind without a second thought, but you cursed yourself under your breath the moment you registered what you asked. It was meant to be a joke, but you realized how bad it sounded when it actually left your lips.
“Only if you want it to be,” Jungkook answered smoothly, pulling out a chair, waiting for you to sit.
You took the chair with that dumb smile on your lips because yes, Jungkook had managed to respond to your comment in the best way possible.
As you both began to skim the menu, the waiter appeared asking for what drinks you’d like. You promptly responded with water while Jungkook asked for a Coke.
“Jungkook, I would have been more than excited if we went to some convenient store to get sandwiches. This place is way too expensive.” He already knew you barely had money, yet he decided to bring you to a restaurant where a Coke costs nearly £4.
“I said it was my apology to you. Therefore, I am paying.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to order much more than a soup and salad combo while Jungkook didn’t hold himself back and ordered a 20-ounce steak.
Really, you were fine with what you had. Jungkook, on the other hand, was not and he had a permanent pout on his face when the server returned with your meal.
“I’m going to be paying for the rest of the trip anyway, so get used to it,” he stuck a piece of steak in his mouth. “I don’t want to see another little bowl of that green stuff again,” he added with a feigned face of disgust as he pointed to your plate.
“Who said I was going on this trip with you? Besides, I can’t use your money like this,” you responded quickly, reminded of the backpack he kept with him while going to all the banks.
“It’s an inheritance from...,” he paused, “my grandfather.”
You left it there not wanting to question why he suddenly had the amount of money. You were still holding your ground on not allowing him to pay; you still had some money, you weren’t completely broke.
You couldn’t even fight to try and pay the bill when the meal was over. Jungkook slipped away to the “bathroom” while you waited for him.
“The bathroom, huh?” You noted while you both walked out of the restaurant.
“I did go!” His hands rose in defense. “I just also happened to pass by the waiter on the way back,” his sentence laced with his sly tone as he smiled widely.
Jungkook still jumped in front of you, quick to open the car door and you didn’t know what to do when he continued to be so damn charming.
Admittedly, you never had that amount of fun in your entire life as you did during the week you spent with Jungkook in London. You both did the usual touristy things that everyone did visiting the attractions the city had to offer. Those included visiting the infamous Big Ben, Tower Bridge, and the London Eye.
Yet, out of all the activities the city had to offer to sedate your wanderlust, your favorite was honestly spending late nights chatting at the cafe a block from your hotel that opened late hours with a cup of coffee. Those you did not let Jungkook pay for.
You learned a lot about him in those late-night chats. You learned that he loved to sing and prompted him to sing you a chorus of his favorite song and after constantly bringing it up a few nights in a row, he finally did. He gracefully sang out the chorus of an old favorite and you didn’t know he could become more charming until the first note was sung. You also noticed the way his eyes lit up in a way they never did before while he wasn’t singing as if singing lit up a spark inside him.
You learned he was a big gamer. That when he wasn’t out and about, he could be tied down to his dual-screened desktop, gaming hours on end.
On the same night, Jungkook learned that you sucked at gaming to which he playfully frowned at you. You told him your aim sucked and when you teamed with your other friends, they would always have to carry your ass through the round while you missed every shot you fired at the enemy. That elicited a howling laugh from him and he claimed he had to make you better in the future.
You learned that he became independent at a young age with his father tied to his work. He didn’t easily share his life with others because of the detachment he had. He commented shortly, you were the first person to which he had told that side of him to. He didn’t discuss more than that and you knew not to ask about more than what you were told.
You told him how you were the oldest and your parents relied on you to help your younger siblings when they focused on working. You told him about how you learned to cook and do chores at a young age so you could take better care of your siblings; how you wrote out almost every check from your parents’ accounts to pay for the bills. You told him briefly that when you became legal and decided to travel with money you had saved, your parents disapproved of your plans and no one saw you off at the airport.
Tonight would be his last night in this city before traveling to another. You still didn’t know what you would do after.
“My offer still stands.” He mentioned this every night.
Your brows crinkled in confusion. “I can’t just use you like that and I still can’t comprehend why you would offer something like that to me.”
“y/n, I promise you money is not an issue to me. You aren’t using me if I offer it openly, right?” The corner of his lips tugged into a small smile.
You shook your head lightly. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
Regardless of how much you wanted to take this once in a lifetime offer, it really did not feel right. You stared at the coffee mug between your hands.
“How about I professionally hire you to take photos for me on this trip? Come on, I snuck a glance at your wallpaper. If you take photos like that, it’s worth it,” he suggested.
That was a lie. You only had your phone to take photos, photographer my ass.
At that moment, you got that random feeling of why the hell not and you felt something shift inside you as you mumbled a quiet, “Okay.”
Jungkook’s smile grew as he teasingly responded, “Hm?”
“Okay, I’ll go with you, exclusively as your photographer.” He was grinning from ear to ear. “But you’re going to sleep in the bed tonight. I don’t want a sleep-deprived driver tomorrow.”
And that is how you ended up agreeing to travel around Europe with Jungkook.
London en route to Amsterdam
You both woke up the next morning having no idea where the hell to go next. After hours of debate, you managed to roughly mark out destination cities to visit in the next eight weeks leaving a week for each to spend at to explore.
Your plan was to head to Amsterdam first.
“You know, I don’t even know your last name, but I decided to travel with you for three months,” you threw out randomly. Your eyes were focused on the passing cars outside of the window.
“Jeon,” he answered simply. You turned your attention back to him, his eyes trained on the road ahead of him and you found yourself staring maybe just a little bit with your chin on your hand.
“So Jeon Jungkook,” your fingers tapped your chin as if in thought. “I think I like the sound of your full name better, Jeon Jungkook.”
“Now it wouldn’t be fair for me to tell you mine and you, not yours.” Not a moment went by when he didn’t want to make the situation light-hearted. His eyes flickered to you for a moment and you shifted your sight somewhere else.
“Mr. Jeon, my last name is y/l/n.” You emphasized his name.
“So, Miss y/l/n,” he mocked in the same tone and the blinker in the car turned on as he changed the lane as per the GPS’s directions. The car was silent again except for the low music playing.
Jungkook began to hum to the song, eventually singing softly and you felt at peace listening to his voice and watching as the landscape changed from cement walls to trees. It was just enough for your eyelids to begin to feel heavy.
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Amsterdam, the Netherlands
One pit stop for a few hours and a ton of snacks later, you arrived at a hotel in the heart of the city.
“Shit,” he muttered. The swiping of the credit card only popped up a ‘declined’ on the screen. His father had finally caught on after he’d jumped a city over. He slid the card back into the slot in his wallet. “I’ll pay in cash then,” he responded in English, a grim smile painted on his lips.
You only could stand beside him and watch the transaction. The lady behind the hotel counter almost furrowed her eyebrows. It was rare that someone would pay for a hotel room with cash, but surely, Jungkook reached into the backpack of his and pulled out the amount for the room.
You kept your surprise to yourself. No wonder, the receptionist was confused herself as you watched Jungkook hand over nearly fifteen hundred Euros in cash.
In less than half an hour, you two were making your way to the room, keycard in Jungkook’s hand. The front lock beeped as Jungkook opened the door pulling his suitcase behind him, and held the door open for you to pass through as well.
“Thanks,” you gave a small grateful smile as you rolled your suitcase into the room.
“How ‘bout that?” Jungkook grinned, his free hand gesturing to the two full-sized beds in the main space of the room.
“I would have been fine with a pull out sofa or something,” basically, you didn’t have to book a room with two beds. You remembered how Jungkook specifically left the last hotel that claimed all their rooms with two beds had been booked.
Jungkook only waved away your statement. It would be back and forth again if Jungkook responded. He only laid down dramatically on one of the beds, the sunglasses laying on his forehead falling back as he sighed, “So, what should we do?”
You laid your suitcase down next to the bed adjacent to the one he claimed and threw down your backpack and mirrored his actions. Although you didn’t drive, you had to admit that a seven-hour drive with minimal stops was tiring. After all, you had given yourself the self-proclaimed job of GPS assistant, keeping your eyes on the device and road to make sure Jungkook was going the right way.
A brief silence passed.
A rustle sounded from beside you. You turned your head to the now sitting up Jungkook as he glanced at his watch. “It’s pretty late. Wanna grab dinner and call it a night?” His eyes flitted to you.
“Sounds like a plan,” you rose slowly from the bed. From outside the balcony, a streak of lightning flashed across the hues of the sunset. You admitted internally it was something to behold your eyes… that was until the rumbling thunder followed, and the rain began pouring.
Then Jungkook’s phone cried bloody murder warning of the flash flood warning.
“Room service?” He glanced at you sheepishly.
The rain did not let up for the rest of the evening and not for the next day as you both realized when you checked the weather app. However, the weather was nothing compared to your thirst to explore the city waiting outside your hotel room.
Unfortunately, the dull scenery forced your plans to be mostly indoors unlike your ideas of exploring the outdoors with all of Amsterdam’s beautiful bridges, canals, and row houses along with them.
After exploring a few museums including the Van Gogh museum, you had both found yourselves at another cafe just as the sun began to set.
“I guess the cafe rituals at night will continue,” Jungkook pulled a chair out for you.
“I guess it does, but to be fair, I wanted to try the to-die-for desserts they have,” you responded.
That’s how with a simple cup of hot tea, you both spent the following two nights with a different Dutch dessert, talking until the moon was high in the sky, and you both felt tired to the point where it became easy to just mumble out a conversation.
You both became stars drunk on the moonlight.
You manage to fill nearly a hundred photos on your phone with all your eyes could catch in the week. Yes, they were almost half of the beautiful bridges, canals, and row houses. Even a simple thing such as a ride on the subway caught your eye enough to snap an Instagram worthy photo.
Your last was deemed as a relaxing day, a less touristy day. You both headed to the Albert Cuypmarkt, a popular street market in the city. Your interest was piqued at the numerous amounts and variety of items the market had to offer. In the middle of the street, your eyes fell onto the most wonderful flower stall. The stall itself nearly grew to life with the vibrant rainbow assortment of flowers.
You didn’t even know your own feet had been gravitating towards the stall. You paused to take a photo, and the owner immediately began to offer flowers your way which you had politely refused.
“Pick your favorite ones,” Jungkook spoke beside you.
“I can’t,” you were conjuring a way to refuse his offer.
“Go ahead, my treat.”
You were beginning to dislike the two words, ‘my treat’. You felt guilt every time he offered anything to be his treat because everything basically was.
You shook your head, glancing at the vibrant bundle of various colored tulips. “We’re leaving tomorrow anyway, where would we put them?”
The stall owner stepped towards Jungkook with the various colored tulips and whispered something to him before handing him the tulips. Before you could interfere, Jungkook had handed over money.
“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, hand outstretched to shake the stall owner’s.
“Your girlfriend was looking at them!” The stall owner exclaimed happily, smiling at you.
Before you could correct his statement, Jungkook spoke. “I saw too,” he gave a wink in your direction.
You returned the smile. You were sure he responded that way for a less complicated answer, but in no way, did his response make you feel your heart speed up a few beats. Although, your mind was definitely still trying to figure out how to respond to Jungkook’s insistence to buy you whatever you laid your eyes on next time.
The stall owner continued a small conversation with Jungkook, asking if he was on a vacation and where he was from. Before long, you both had made your way from the stall further down the street.
“Ah, my arms! This is so heavy, can you hold it?” Before you could respond, the bouquet of beautiful tulips were shoved into your arms to admire. You had to admit, the Netherlands tulips were ones like you never seen before; so vibrant and colorful in your eyes.
“I told you we were going to leave. Where am I going to put them?” You couldn’t help the warm feeling in your chest. “Thank you,” your tone changed to a gentle one and you couldn’t help the smile beginning to form on your lips.
“You’re very welcome, miss y/l/n. I am very delighted you like them,” his arm swung around your shoulder, a casual gesture to him.
Although, it felt like something way more different than a casual gesture to you.
“Besides, we can just buy a book or something so you can dry the flowers or something,” he commented, his hand squeezing your shoulder lightly.
You had to shake your head a bit to retain focus on the conversation and not the weird feeling you had in your chest. “Y-yeah sounds like a plan!”
Amsterdam en route to Paris
You know what they say. There was never enough of McDonald’s greasy fries for a long road trip. Okay, no one really said that, but it is the truth. They hit home regardless of where in the world you were.
“So bad for you, but so freaking good!” You exclaimed with your mouth full of fries.
Jungkook reached his hand over to the bag of fast food sitting in your lap to grab a few fries of his own.
“I might have to ban you from picking our driving snacks if you decide to buy ten orders of McDonald’s french fries again,” Jungkook chuckled before tossing the fries into his mouth.
“I think I picked pretty dang good snacks,” you proclaimed, offering another fry to Jungkook.
He leaned over a bit with his mouth open. “Gotta keep both hands on the wheel,” he teased. His fingers danced on the wheel for emphasis.
You reluctantly fed him the fry. It didn’t cross your mind until after you both finished off two more containers of fries that it didn’t feel strange teasingly feeding him fries, but it sounded off to you.
“My hands are tired, you might have to risk a bit of safety to eat some fries if you want,” you placed a container of fries into the cup holder.
You swore that his bottom lip jutted out in the smallest bit of pout before he replied jokingly that you were being unfair and feeding him less so you could eat more of it.
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Paris, France
The usual routine of Jungkook asking to book a room for a week after you both spent time arguing at a parking lot about which hotel to pick. You wanted the cheaper one whilst Jungkook insisted he needed a balcony and a view of the Eiffel Tower. He won.
You couldn’t wait, excitement buzzing through your veins, and barely managed to throw your suitcases into the room before your lust to explore took over.
And after a whole day of exploring, you were at another cafe as the sun set, ready to try all the desserts France had to offer.
“Don’t you just love it?” You brought your hands up around you and spun with a smile. “The atmosphere, the scenery, everything,” your smile grew in delight.
It would be an utter lie for Jungkook to not include you as part of the beautiful atmosphere around him. Your smile was utterly beautiful and he knew in his trip to Paris, he’d remember your face from every single moment. It was a genuine one; one that was rare for him to see in his life where everyone put on a show for their own gain.
You didn’t know about his wealth, his life, his future inheritances; maybe that’s why he never told you to begin with. It let him be different; he could be someone else without the price tag he seemingly wore every day while he was back home.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” and Jungkook had a small smile tugged on to his lips as he shoved his hands into his pocket and followed you. Even though there were crowds of tourists everywhere as you entered a bridge crossing over the Seine, it was still breathtaking.
You moved your way amongst the throng of people and made your way to the railing. “Take a picture for me!” You raised your hands into the air. “And you have to get the tower in the background!”
When a minute passed of you holding the pose, you turned around and grabbed the phone from his hand. A frown settled on your features. “Hey, why are these selfies of you?”
“I think I make quite the picture,” he joked. “Here, scroll further up.”
He had taken a few of you in the pose and you settled with a smile. “You’re forgiven… I guess.”
“You guess? Oh, miss y/l/n, what will I ever do without your forgiveness?” Jungkook had the same joking smile on his face, but when he stared off, you noticed the smile drained from his face.
“What’s wrong?” You reached a hand up to his arm, eyes searching the blank expression on his face. He shook out of the shock and his hand wrapped around yours.
“We’ve got to go,” he stated quickly before his hand had a firm grasp around yours, tugging you across the bridge.
“Wait, where?” You managed to stay close to him as he sped up from a speed walk to a run. That’s when you heard the chaos behind you.
“He’s right there!” A man shouted from behind you, not far back.
“Jungkook, where–,” he pulled you around a corner down a narrow alleyway. You stumbled a bit at the sudden turn. “Where are we going?” You shouted the question. You faintly heard footsteps catching up behind you.
“Why are we even running?” His grip only tightened as he continued running.
The footsteps became fainter and Jungkook turned one more corner before laying flat against the wall.
“Jungk–,” he stopped you, tugging you with him and a hand on your mouth as he shushed you and an arm around your waist. His chest pressed to your back and you craned your head ever so slightly to meet his wide eyes. His pupils were blown wide from the surprise.
At this point, you had no idea whether your heart was beating this fast because you had just ran or because you were pressed so close to Jungkook that you could feel his breathing as his chest rose and fell quickly. In one swift movement, he flipped the both of you, hand still covering your mouth and another hand on your arm.
He applied a small amount of pressure on your arm and his eyes pleaded with you to stay still. He slowly drew his gaze from you to peek over the edge of the building. You noticed his eyes soften from the previous look filled with worry and he drew a long breath before dropping his head in relief. His hand released from your mouth.
His head dropped onto your shoulder and he let out another sigh to which you definitely felt against your skin. You froze.
Within moments, he withdrew his grip from you and slid back.
You tried to push away the blush creeping onto your face and the shock. You willed yourself to forget the sudden moment of closeness and placed your hands on your hips. “What the hell was that? Why were we running? Have you done something?!” Question after question came as you filled your head with the actual situation at hand instead of your stupid heart’s fast pace. You were determined to keep those wandering thoughts away as much as possible.
He pulled at your hand, tugging you along. He wasn’t running anymore, but he was still keeping a steady, fast pace. “Come on, we can’t be here. I’ll explain later.” He tossed his head around to check over his shoulder and continued to do that every couple minutes.
“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” You yanked on his hand in frustration, making him come to a complete stop, and your grip slip from his. “Have you done something?”
A frustrated sigh left his lips and his hand brushed through his hair leaving it disheveled. “It’s complicated.” He was going to eventually tell you everything, but he didn’t know it would be so soon. He didn’t know his father would send men to find him so soon. “Please, can we go back to the hotel first?”
His eyes glanced around you both nervously in every direction possible.
It took you a few seconds to recognize the panic and plead in his eyes before nodding once.
It didn’t even take him a second before he clasped his hand in yours again and began to find his way back to the hotel.
He didn’t let go of your hand the entire way. In fact, his hand seemed only to grip yours tighter as you both weaved through crowds of people and bikers.
You ripped your hand from his grasp the moment you both stepped into the safety of your hotel room. “I followed you back, explain,” your tone was harsh and you couldn’t help your emotions from showing themselves. Your arms crossed over your chest and a permanent frown on your face.
Jungkook sighed and you heard relief, yet some anxiety laced in that sigh. He tugged his hand through his hair, pulling back, and tossed his sunglasses onto the bed.
“Jungkook, what the hell happened back there?” Your voice rose, your hands flying around you as your annoyance rose from him keeping you in the dark.
Another sigh, “Yes, they were looking for me. If they had caught me, I would have been flown back to Korea.”
“Are you a criminal or something?”
“They were my father’s men,” he answered briefly.
“What do you mean?” He was answering your questions in the most terrible way possible. You nearly had the slightest feeling that you had been staying and traveling with some mob boss’s son for nearly three weeks.
“Okay, it’s a long story and I haven’t been the most honest.”
You almost let out a scoff and retorted, ‘no shit Sherlock’, but instead, you replied, “I’ll listen to your story then.” You cautiously took a seat at your claimed bed.
Another sigh before he began to explain exactly how you both, mostly him, ended up in this position. He disclosed every single detail, how he maxed out his credit cards, managed to rent a car for three months, how he was the fucking heir to a multi-billion dollar company in Korea.
“Did you think this lie of your grandfather’s money was going to last long? I didn’t want to question it when I saw you pay for everything in cash. Or the fact that you had that bookbag with you the entire time,” your eyes glanced over the bag over his shoulders.
“Is that why you wanted to book this room in my name?” You remembered that you had agreed to it without question a few days ago.
You didn’t really want an answer from him. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back later,” you swung your backpack onto your right shoulder and headed for the door.
He didn’t stop you but watched your disappointed figure walk through the threshold. He didn’t go after you because it had been clear enough that you didn’t want to be followed. Jungkook threw his head down onto the bed.
You didn’t really want to say anything else to him as you allowed yourself to comprehend his situation. Surely, you were reacting with all this anger and disappointment from your point of view. You had been deceived; you didn’t even know who he was.
There was a park nearby the hotel and you spent the rest of your day there until the moon was showing herself again.
You texted Jungkook as the sun began to disappear.
[6:47 PM] y/n: No cafe tonight.
You didn’t spend every living moment together on this trip, but a meeting at a cafe when the sun set had become a ritual.
He didn’t reply.
When you finally digested what he had told you, you found yourself typing into a search engine ‘Jeon Jungkook’ and was shocked to find articles of his life in Korea. Why had you not even been curious and looked him up before?
Heir Jeon Jungkook with a mysterious woman? He chatted with a woman at a nightclub bar with a charming smile on his lips.
Jungkook, heir to Jeon Empires, rumored to be with a b-list actress? His hand on her face as he seemingly kissed her and you felt something weird brewing in your stomach.
Jeon Jungkook, heir to Jeon Empire, in a bar fight?! The blurry photos were of two men throwing punches at each other, the last photo recognizably Jungkook as he swung his fist in the direction of the other man.
Nearly all of them were so-called scandals. You couldn’t help but conclude that his open life in the media was nothing good except causing trouble and being with many, many women.
The Jungkook you knew, however, was the complete opposite. He was full of personality, a positive and bright energy you couldn’t compare to that person the media wrote about. He hadn’t made any advances towards you which made you question his player-type life before.
You couldn’t help yourself as you spent hours with your eyes glued to the phone screen reading article after article. Only when your eyes began to feel hot and tired, you stopped and contemplated whether or not you should return to the hotel room.
You had to; where else would you go?
The moment you walked through the threshold, Jungkook sat up on his bed. “y/n,” he breathed.
“Please, just give me some time,” you whispered quietly. You didn’t know how to describe the way you felt at the moment. Betrayal for pulling a lie that big? You didn’t know if your growing admiration for Jungkook was the reason the lie felt worse than it should.
Jungkook let you settle in for the night without a word. You turned over in the bed, not facing his and you heard him collapse into his bed.
You didn’t sleep much that night. You ran over and over in your head. Could you still stay with him after this?
You managed to fall asleep sometime when the sky turned lighter meaning dawn was breaking through. Maybe after getting a few hours of rest, your eyes were open again and you turned your head slightly to see Jungkook up and on his phone.
He woke up early and waited for you to wake up.
“I understand if you want to leave. I lied to you about me when you told me everything about you. I’ll get you a plane ticket back to Korea if you’d like,” he mumbled the last part quietly, his head bowing a bit lower out of shame.
“I’m not going to say that lying to me this entire time was okay, but I had some time to think. I still want some time to digest this whole situation, but we can still finish this trip if you’d like,” you offered.
Yes, lying to you about his identity wasn’t okay, but you spent the entire night considering his person as a whole rather than the title he had in Korea. This whole explanation you told yourself was even hard for you to put together.
Jeon Jungkook was the heir to a multi-billion dollar company, yes. However, the same Jeon Jungkook also helped a stranger who was broke on the streets in London. He was a kind-hearted person and you couldn’t deny that credit for him.
The same Jeon Jungkook told you about his favorite hobbies and the isolation he felt at home. That wasn’t a lie.
“Can we spend the last couple of days exploring separately?” You proposed the idea. “We hit the good spots already,” you added quickly.
Jungkook nodded quickly. As long as you still want to go finish this trip with me. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel alone as weird as it sounded. He was used to so many people coming into his life and leaving, people he had trusted.
Friends, ones he made when he was younger, came and went when it was convenient for them, not for him. He learned to keep people at a distance in his life, especially any new friends he made.
Nannies, caretakers, they were hired to take care of him when he was young, but new ones came and went frequently. No one stayed long enough for him to remember their faces when the new one came.
His father took his mother away from him for business-related events and trips, and many there were.
When you hadn’t known he was part of this lavish lifestyle, he felt genuineness for the first time. Yet, when you knew who he was, he still felt it, and it was a foreign feeling.
“Cafe tonight?”
He was pulled from his train of thought. His eyes which had a distance glow in them were present again.
“Y-yeah,” he gave a small smile.
You gave him a small nod of confirmation.
The sky was still beginning to light slowly outside so you decided with a slight weight gone from your shoulders, you could catch just a nip of sleep.
You ended up just exploring a local market and to your surprise, Jungkook slipped money into the front pocket of your bookbag. You tried your best to spend the least, buying only a lunch for yourself and only shopped with your eyes. Even if he had revealed himself to you, you were bound to your word to not use him.
As planned, you met him at the regular cafe you two had been attending for the past half week since you both arrived in Paris.
Jungkook took it to him to wear a hoodie and sunglasses as the sun began to set. He sat at a table inside this time rather than outside.
Awaiting you at the table were two mugs of coffee and a plate with a few sweets.
“What’s with the outfit?” Although you felt an invisible divide between the two of you, you couldn’t help but comment. He was sitting inside and it was nightfall already for God’s sake.
You slid into the chair opposite of him. This meeting didn’t feel warm like all the one previous. It felt like you were meeting an acquaintance rather than the Jungkook you knew.
“Don’t really want to be noticed,” he responded briefly.
“Were you at the hotel the entire day? Are you planning on staying there for the rest of the trip?”
“Don’t really have much of a choice,” he shrugged. He had been more cheerful this morning, but his mood had shifted somewhat throughout the course of the day. The way he responded bit you cold, just slightly.
You shivered on the inside.
“I’m sure you have some questions. You couldn’t have not looked me up,” his tone was unreadable. It was like he was trying hard to be monotone and act like he didn’t care, but he couldn’t quite fake it.
“Yeah, I saw some articles,” you responded truthfully. No point in lying. You stared at the foam atop the coffee in your hand. You gravitated your hand slightly in a circle, watching the coffee swirl and the liquid to settle. Silence surely was settling itself nicely.
“Don’t you have any questions about them?”
His confidence wasn’t present because, at the end of the question, his voice faltered just slightly. He was actually afraid of what you had seen and what you could possibly conjure and conclude from those articles. After all, it wasn’t just words, but pictures, photographs of his face on them to back those words.
And he had an entire day to plant such fear in himself.
You heard the fear in his voice and you felt your heart pain for a quick second. Was he scared of your judgment?
Truth was, he was, but you just didn’t know that. Your judgment of him meant a hell lot.
“Your title doesn’t make you who you are on the inside,” you reached over the table and placed a light hand onto his chest where below his skin and bones was a beating heart. His head dropped, sight set onto your hand and where it was. “Jungkook, I’d be stupid to read articles and judge you just because of them. How can I trust the words of unreputable sources when I know you myself?” You asked softly.
It sounded weird coming from you. You’d only known him for how long? A few weeks? Merely a month?
Regardless, they somehow felt like the right words. You physically knew him for a short amount of time, yet emotionally, you knew each other for more than that. The amount you both disclosed to each other was unfathomable. It was surely not how much you disclosed to anyone else.
In that length, Jungkook lying about his family was incomparable.
Jungkook’s head rose, the corners of his lips rising slowly into a small appreciative smile.
The glow in your chest grew warmer.
True to your words, you had explored by yourself for the next few days. Jungkook didn’t step outside of the hotel regardless.
You came back to some room service trays either lying outside of the door or inside of the room and Jungkook scrolling mindlessly through channels on the T.V. or his cell phone.
There were no hard feelings. Just a time of adjustment.
The week in Paris hadn’t been what you expected, but the resolution was worth the sacrifice.
Paris en route to Barcelona
“Ten hours?!” Your eyes widened as you looked up from the map on your phone. Jungkook’s head dipped with a slight nod.
“We can take a pit stop at a hotel in between,” he shrugged. “Or just drive the entire ten.” The statement leaving you speechless. “I’m joking. We’ll stop at a hotel somewhere in the middle.”
The trip always began with music. Jungkook tossed you his phone and told you to pick a song to which you obliged happily. He had a wicked playlist.
The engine revving and silence between the two of you were drowned out by music, Jungkook tapping away to the beat on the steering wheel. You, in turn, hummed to the tune.
Somehow the music became a queue of Disney songs, one after another after you claimed you had to listen to Breaking Free. Somehow, Love is an Open Door came on the speakers and suddenly, you were finishing Jungkook’s sandwiches.
The song ended with you both in a fit of laughter as another song began to play. Your Disney karaoke session came to an end after nearly an hour of duets, your horrible solos and in contrast, Jungkook’s beautiful solos.
Suddenly, it grew quiet from the little banter you two had been having just a few seconds earlier.
“You know, I think it would be very easy to fall for someone like you.” You don’t know why you just openly admitted your thoughts, but it felt safe to. The car engine hummed quietly in the background and music played softly.
Jungkook hummed as his eyes trained on to the road ahead. “I’d think the same for you.” He smiled lightly.
“Hm, what makes you say that?” You were surprised by his words. You weren’t exactly the best in relationships and you always said you’d tango as one. What would make Jungkook think the same of you?
Jungkook was silent for a moment as if he was thinking. “Well, for me at least, you’re easy to talk with and have a killer smile,” his smile grew a bit wider at the thought. “You’re the type of person to dream. You still choose to dream even if society and circumstances told you not to.”
You glanced down at your lap as you felt your cheeks warm at his words. He thought those things about you. “A dreamer, huh?”
“Yeah, you came all the way here on the whims of a dream right? I admire that.”
“Yeah, a stupid one,” you mumbled quietly as you took your gaze your hands in your lap.
“It's amazing. I wish I had one like you,” there was nothing but admiration in his voice. “I wish I had that control like you,” he muttered. You thankfully hadn’t caught it.
“What about me?”
“Hmm?” You looked back up at him.
“What makes me an easy person to fall for?”
You pondered for a moment as you gather your thoughts. To be completely honest, Jungkook had a whole list of things going for him. “Well,” your finger tapped your chin. “You’re extremely charming. You can charm anyone very easily. From what I know, you have a good heart and a lovely smile as well.” Then the next line came out and you almost died in embarrassment, “Bonus: you’re extremely handsome.” You wanted to melt away and never come back the moment those words left your lips.
“You think I’m handsome, huh?”
The fact that he chose to point out that one statement in your compliment filled paragraph made you blush deeper.
“Maybe, or maybe I’m not seeing well and you're actually not,” your voice hinted teasingly as you laughed.
“Hey!” He reached a hand over to shove your shoulder lightly, but a chuckle still came from him. “I am one-hundred percent totally deadly handsome.”
“Sure, sure,” the laughter died down and the car grew silent.
“I think you give me more credit than I really take for.” If you’d known the life I lived at home, you’d not think so.
The thought had come out in words accidentally and you craned your gaze towards him. “What? Your life back home?”
Jungkook hadn’t realized the accidental mutter and a rush of panic struck him. “Nothing,” he brought back his casualness and shrugged his shoulders.
“My life was pretty shit,” you thought to fill the silence with your own story. He didn’t want to speak of his. You picked at the edge of your shirt. “Everyone wants to go to university and I just wasn’t the school type you know?”
You glanced at him for a moment and he gave a nod, eyes still on the road. “I know exactly what you mean.” He wasn’t exactly the star student himself.
“I got accepted to one, but I blew it off last minute and decided to take a gap year. My mom pretty much thinks I’m the dumbest person to make this choice,” a sigh left your lips. “Thinking about the break between me and my parents makes me think whether this trip was even worth it.”
“Well, what are you thinking right now?” Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you for a second, worried. He didn't like the thought of you not thinking this trip was worth it, and if you had thought that, you could drop out of it anytime. He definitely did not want that.
“I’m thinking that this was a once in a lifetime chance so I'd be a fool to not think it's worth it,” you revealed. You focused your attention on the blurring trees outside. “What about you?”
“I’m thinking that I’m really grateful you decided to follow your dreams and on top of that, it allowed me to meet this amazing human being sitting next to me.”
Massiac, France
You ended up taking a rest with an expected stop in a small French town of Massiac on the way to Barcelona.
By small, you meant like a population with under 2,000 people. You both ended up settling at a guesthouse that offered bed and breakfast.
You didn’t expect much when walking to your room for the night.
“Looks like we’re back to one bed,” Jungkook chuckled.
The bedroom was small, barely having enough space for the queen bed perched in the middle of the room and a small T.V. to be on a small table in the corner. Oddly, there was only a chair in the other corner of the room.
Thankfully, you two had opted to pack a few necessities and clothes to change into your bookbags and left your suitcases in the trunk of the car (out of sight from anyone who peeked into your windows, of course). They would have just been in the way.
“We’ll have to share?” You said sheepishly.
“If you don’t mind,” Jungkook was quick to respond. He pointed his thumb out the door. “I can take shelter in the car for the night.”
You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You saunter over to the bed and took a pillow, placing it in the middle of the bed. “Now we have two beds,” a laugh erupted from you.
It earned a chuckle from Jungkook as well as he shook his head at the idea. “Okay, Miss y/l/n, whatever you say.”
The night ended up being awkward, but you learned Jungkook loved to steal the sheets. You swore you were feeling so damn cold and subconsciously reached a hand over to your side to pull on the sheets to cover you.
Then sometime later, you were cold again, again without sheets. You, once again, reached over to tug the sheets onto you. Along with the sheets, you managed to tug something heavy and very warm next to you. That object shifted a lot.
In your foggy, sleeping mind, you only shuffled yourself over closer to the source of warmth and was even more satisfied when you were met with a cocoon of warmth.
In the morning, you realized the nice and comfortable cocoon of warmth was Jungkook and his arms and he was cuddling with you due to the lack of warmth every time you tugged the sheets away.
You both ran into fits of coughing as you moved away as far as possible upon waking up and meeting each other’s faces.
You awkwardly attempted to ease the situation with, “Remind me to never sleep with you again, you sheet hoger!”
Jungkook, who had settled down himself, diffused the situation in his classic way with a wink towards you.
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Barcelona, Spain
Barcelona was a contrast compared to the cities you had yet to visit. The atmosphere made you feel more alive with every breath you took. Not to mention, the beautiful beaches the city had to offer which was a plus.
You had stayed at a hotel that had what you both desired most: a cafe right next door. You also managed to score a hotel that was right on the boardwalk in Barceloneta.
It was amazing. There were performances right outside of your hotel every night.
This night, in particular, there was a musician playing live music near the cafe. Yours and Jungkook’s conversations had settled from the constantly learning new things about each other. Some nights you both just talked about small things like how you liked the tourist sights you both saw today or just showing each other funny memes you saw while scrolling through your social media.
This was good though. It cleared the air from what had happened in Paris.
Suddenly, Jungkook hopped up from his chair across from you.
“Let’s go dance!”
“Hm?” You were taken aback by his words and momentarily, glanced at him.
He grabbed your hand and tugged you to the crowd. “Let’s go dance y/n,” he flashed you a smile. That, that was your favorite smile of his—a bit daring and wild as if he had the best idea in the world but it was not any ordinary idea. It was lovely, really.
You nodded and allowed him to sweep you away. The music was upbeat and you both tried to best to keep up with the crowd, but failed. Many other tourists had been laughing along with you both as they too failed. The atmosphere was warm and beautiful.
Both tourists and locals mixed in a crowd to dance traditional dances. The locals took the time to teach a few moves to the tourists as tourists tried their best to keep up. Guitars played in sync with each other for a few songs. When the song ended, cheers and claps filled the air.
“The next song should be easy to dance with,” a man spoke into the microphone with a slight chuckle and the crowd echoed with laughter. You recognized the song as a slow song with English lyrics. The man sang the slow tune and couples began forming, strangers shyly asking another stranger for a dance.
Jungkook took your hand with a shy smile. “Dance with me.”
You smiled back widely and nodded. “Of course.”
It was a slow dance and Jungkook led, swaying you both to and fro with the beat. Instead of keeping a distance, you danced, fronts almost pressed and you laid on his chest. He pulled away from you and you frowned, but he tugged onto your hand, spinning you. You let out a giggle and he pulled you close again.
Amidst the swaying, you felt drops of water on your arm. “It’s raining.” The drops fell faster and people began to take shelter under various storefronts. The musician, under a roof, continued to play for the only two left dancing—the two of you.
Instead of leaving, you both stayed dancing in the rain. Clothes sticking to your body from being drenched, you danced. Even after the slow song had ended and the musician began to change the song to a more upbeat one.
You felt your ears begin to drown out the music. Both your chests were rising and falling at a rapid pace and you felt Jungkook lean his forehead on to yours.
At this moment, the crowd was gone, no music, just you and Jungkook. What you felt at that exact moment was indescribable. It was the same feeling of comfort, satisfaction, and really delicious and fresh chocolate chip cookies. It felt...good.
It felt like eons had passed when you both found it in you to separate when in reality, the musician was only at the first chorus of the song he began to play when you drowned out the environment around you.
Jungkook flashed you a wide smile, the one where his eyes became crescent moons from his cheeks being squished from his bright smile. His eyes even became happy, the way there was this sheen and shine on them.
It was pretty damn infectious because your mouth broke out in a smile too.
The rest of your week in Barcelona had a different air between you two after that dance. You took note of it and you were damn sure Jungkook knew it too.
Sometimes, your eye would catch on Jungkook doing something and you’d feel your heart glow and warmth bubble inside your chest. If Jungkook caught you, he’d either freeze himself or send you a cheeky wink, then your heart felt like it went into overdrive.
You never felt that kind of feeling before and it led you down a path of confusion. You were becoming more comfortable with Jungkook’s presence. In fact, you loved his presence. This feeling was more than just enjoying someone’s company. The feeling you had whenever something like his arm wrapped around you or his hands holding yours to tug you to something he found cool was something else.
You never truly felt what it was like to fall for someone, but you were almost sure that’s what you were experiencing.
Barcelona en route to Provence
He turned his head quickly, glancing in your direction before turning his attention back to the road ahead. His lips curved into a smirk.
“Miss y/l/n, correct me if I'm wrong, but were you staring at me just now?”
He'd caught you, but you hide your embarrassment taking advantage of his adjusted focus on the road. “Well, Mr. Jeon, you were wrong,” the creeping blush on your cheeks giving your words away. You turned your head in the opposite direction.
“I mean there’s nothing wrong with it. I already know I’ve been gifted with this handsome face,” he added in a teasing tone.
Definitely.
“As if,” you faked a scoff.
Silence filled the car and Jungkook was not in any shape or form for the question you asked next. He nearly choked on his own breath.
“Jungkook, have you ever been in love?”
Jungkook literally began to cough. “What makes you ask that?”
You shrug your shoulders casually attempting to play off your question. “Just curious, never felt that before.”
“Actually, I don’t think I really was. Maybe crushes, but never anything serious,” he answered.
For some reason, you felt a wave of sadness hit you briefly and your worst fear: did you have feelings, but he didn’t?
You didn’t realize you began to fall victim to your own thoughts coming at you from every angle before Jungkook waved a hand in front of your face.
“What about you?”
“I wouldn’t really know if I was. If I liked someone, I would question it to no end. It might as well be one of my insecurities,” you let out.
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Marseille, Provence, France
Provence, four words, lavender fields in Summer. True, you were coming late, but you definitely made it in time.
You both stayed at the capital of the region, a seaport with amazing hill lands where the city dwelled. You managed to find a small hotel that was near the top of one of the higher locations.
The second day, you were the first one to wake up. You had to go see the lavender fields. It did take two more hours of driving to Sault, France where the Lavender Trail was, but to be completely honest, the excitement you had was something Jungkook couldn’t refuse in a million years. You were practically jumping up and down in your seat the entire time.
You were even more overjoyed you both had made it on the day of the Lavender Festival which a farmers market was being held. Even miles away from the town, you swore you could smell the lavender scent with the warm breeze.
Jungkook, a few hours in the festival, disappeared and reappeared with some lavenders in his hands.
“For you,” he said with that charming smile. “We can press these too.”
“Thank you,” this time you accepted without hesitation.
That day, your camera roll was filled with shades of purple and it was one of your favorite days.
“y/n, come with me. I found something amazing last night,” there it was. There was that glint in Jungkook’s eyes that shouted daringly, ‘adventure’. He held out his hand to you which you took.
He led you through a series of stairs that you were pretty sure prohibited to guests at the hotel.
“Are you sure we can be here?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s worth getting into some trouble for,” he smiled.
At the end of the stair climbing was a single door. Jungkook opened the door and guided you to the sound of a bustling city. Wind began to brush past you two, moving your hair in all sorts of directions. Your eyes were met with the sight of the night of a city below.
Jungkook pulled you closer to an edge.
“Come sit with me,” he took a seat near the edge, letting his feet fall over it and worry began to stream through you.
“It’s too high up. We can sit back here,” you took a seat next to him, but made sure to stay a safe foot from the edge.
“Come on, it’s a better experience this way,” he grasped your hand, giving it a slight squeeze.
Here you go, listening to him again. You couldn’t look over the edge exactly because your fragile heart would definitely not let you, but you began to inch forward, squeezing his hand for dear life.
You never let go.
The silence filled the air and you only dangled your feet, looking out onto the sea of lights. “Two weeks left.” A smile curved on your lips and you watched more of the lights turning on and the last bits of the sun disappearing behind the horizon. “Two weeks of crazy adventures.”
“Yeah.”
You turned to him only to see him watching you. “What are you doing? Look at those lights, they're beautiful.” You waved your arm out.
“I'm looking at you,” he said with a cheeky smile, but his voice wasn’t the same teasing tone. His eyes shined and you were trying to conclude what he was thinking of. At that moment, it became really silent, not the normal silence. It was the type of silence where you could feel the environment just pause and only the sound of your heart pounding fast in your chest was heard. You hoped it wasn't too loud for him to notice.
You just stared at him, letting the silence settle comfortably. Then you gave out an awkward laugh. “I'm sure, the lights and the view are a lot better to look at than m-,” you didn't get a chance to finish because before you could say ‘me’, his lips were on yours.
It wasn't one of those super long, passionate kisses; it was short, but it wasn't a peck either. He captured your lips with his and for some reason, you kissed back. For that split second, it felt like one of those kisses that felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together so perfectly. When he finally pulled away, his forehead leaning against yours, he whispered the words, “I like you, y/n. And if I keep falling at the rate I am at the moment, I will fall in love with you.”
There are two reasons people become breathless from a kiss: one, because they'd kiss for ages and ran out of breath and two, where the kiss had literally taken their breath away.
With your chest heaving, you knew this kiss had only made you breathless because of the emotions running through you. It was too short to have made you run out of breath, but rather, your heart had gone into overdrive. Your heart physically couldn’t handle this moment.
Your breaths intermixing with each other, his words mixing with it making this cocktail that made you want more. But the words registered with you and you pulled away from him before you could possibly get caught for more.
He watched you with those innocent doe eyes only telling you he meant it. He truly liked you.
His sudden confession caught you off guard. For the month you've been with Jungkook, you thought of his personality to be naturally flirty. He was handsome and charm was a part of the package.
You weren't going to lie, the times he'd pull you close or the cheeky comments made your heart flutter, but you'd blown them off. He was just flirty by nature, you told yourself. Yet, your stupid self let out, “you’re being serious, right?” You saw almost a crumble in his confident smile.
“Y-yeah?” You had never heard Jungkook stumble on an answer.
You felt the blush creep up your cheeks. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that bad. I was just being stupid,” you shook your head with an embarrassed smile.
Jungkook pulled back, hands on both sides of your arms. “Uh, y/n, how do you feel?” His voice was small, grown nervous at your lack of response.
“I kissed back, you know,” oh no, you gave another stupid answer. Your hand had literally went up to smack your forehead. “No, I did it again.”
This time the slightest sigh of relief came from Jungkook as he laughed.
“Okay, I like you, too,” you said sheepishly, recounting how you managed to respond terribly, not once, not twice, but three times. Now you answered in the most naive sounding way possible.
Jungkook chuckled and in the background, a shooting star made its way across the midnight sky.
You felt like you were on cloud nine that night, but you felt the opposite the next morning. Morning thoughts were the worst and this morning, they took you like crazy. You began to think about the future. What were you going to do when the trip ended? Sure, having fallen for Jungkook felt so amazing, but you couldn’t face what could happen in the future. It was so undetermined and Jungkook saw you sitting up in your bed with a blank stare on your face.
You felt the weight of the bed shift slightly but didn’t really fall out of your thoughts until Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you and gave you a gentle kiss on your temple.
“Good morning,” he whispered softly, head resting on your shoulder. “What are you thinking so deeply about?”
“What now?” You couldn’t help sounding so God damn blunt about it.
With a sigh, you could tell Jungkook had already breezed through that thought.
“y/n, I just told you how I felt. How about we just hold off on that and enjoy the remaining time? Maybe we can figure it out later?”
Later. That was procrastination. However, you just shrugged and agreed. Putting it off was probably both of you trying to avoid the inevitable.
True to your agreement, you both didn’t mention it again. It was constantly peeping over your shoulder, but just like that, you swatted away the thought and focused on your time at Marseille.
Provence en route to Venice
The eight-hour trip ahead required another pit stop at a small town, but no one was going to complain. It was another excuse to postpone the trip even just for a day.
Postpone deciding what the hell to do to clean up the fact that after this trip you’d both most likely be left heartbroken in completely different cities.
The night spent in the bed and breakfast, you felt the dread creeping further.
Although you only knew Jungkook for less than two months, it felt like you had known him for a decade.
As you laid, staring at him, the stars shone through the window behind him and you admired the being before you. You let your arms go around his middle and you admired his serene face.
Your eyes traced his nose, jaw, and lips. You thought about how safe you felt at this very moment, limbs tangled together. Your mind wandered to how if you hadn’t decided to go on this trip, what you would have missed out on.
Then you thought, ‘goddamnit Jeon Jungkook, what do I do?’
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Venice, Italy
Jungkook was being darn cheeky when he requested a room with only one bed, but you still agreed. It wasn’t like you two haven’t shared a bed before and with your newfound confessions, you didn’t mind it. Not one bit.
To be completely honest, it was hard to not have Jungkook within your touch every second since that day. There was barely a moment when he didn’t clasp his hand in yours or vice versa. He didn’t waste a second where his head could be buried in the crook of your neck and arms wrapped around your waist and you not savoring each minute of it. Maybe it was the looming separation that you knew was coming in a few weeks.
Jungkook, himself, opted to leave his bed empty every night because he swore he was cold and you were the best warm pillow there could be.
It started with him climbing over in the middle of the night swearing he was freezing to death even though it was in the middle of the summer. Then he just completely abandoned his bed every night in Provence for the rest of the week.
“Dibs on the bed. You can have the sofa bed!” You exclaimed quickly, dropping the handle to your suitcase and launching yourself onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
“Dibs on the bed!” Jungkook launched himself next to you bouncing you up slightly.
“Hey! I called it!” You whined, but really, a smile was making its way into your lips.
In seconds, he was on top of you, his fingers dusting over your rib cage and you falling out of breath from laughing constantly.
“Stop, ah!” You squealed, yes, squealed. You swatted his hands away, but his fingers continued their torture on your stomach.
When he finally stopped, his legs were on both sides of you and you were both out of breath from laughing, Jungkook at how funny it was messing with you and you from literally being tortured.
You didn’t realize Jungkook had become silent, his face merely inches from yours. His eyes scanned yours and when you didn’t show any sign of ‘no’, he dipped his head down further. This time, you could feel his breathing, lips right above yours.
You didn’t stop your eyes from dropping from his and then to his lips quickly before locking with his eyes again.
The weird thing was that you both refrained from kissing the entire time after that night. True, skin to skin contact was all you both did, but kissing didn’t occur as much as one would expect from your situation.
Thoughts aside, you reached up to kiss him. What was meant to be a peck became Jungkook’s hands falling around your waist and pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss ten folds. It didn’t help that your hands magically found their way to his hair, fingers knotting in his locks.
In times like this, you both wondered if it would be okay to go further. Was it wrong to lust for someone you only knew for a few months? Was it wrong to fall into the embrace of your own desires to be closer? To the point of complete contact? Unfortunately, you were too shy to voice it nor make any sign of it. Then again, it was never a loss to be kissing and in each other’s arms for hours on end after being tired from a long drive.
Being the tourists you were, you swore on your life you had to visit the Trevi Fountain and make a wish before you had to leave.
Jungkook couldn’t sway you from that regardless of how many gondola rides he offered to take you on.
It was crowded, but with the frame like Jungkook, he was able to maneuver you right to the front through the throngs of people.
“Here,” Jungkook handed you a coin.
“You should make one too,” you reminded, excitement bubbling in you.
Jungkook nodded.
You took your time, closing your eyes and thinking of a good wish, but when you closed your eyes, you really just thought of Jungkook.
You could have wished for anything, happiness, freedom from the chains of family duties you knew were waiting for you when you’d go back, but no, you wished for something completely different.
You wanted deep down to wish that you and Jungkook didn’t end here after the road trip. You wanted to wish this wasn’t going to be the end for you both. That there was more; that the paths your lives crossed here wouldn’t have to branch off inevitably because you lived too differently.
So you did. You wished for it, somewhere deep down, you really hoped this fountain would be powerful enough to actually grant your wish.
When you closed your eyes, you assumed Jungkook was getting ready to make his wish alongside you. Instead, he had watched you. He didn’t need a wish; the miracle that came into his life was you.
So he watched you; eyes scanning over your face, memorizing the moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone; he wanted to remember this moment. The moment when you looked so beautiful with your eyes closed, hands crossed over your lips, thinking. When Jungkook really looked at you, he always felt whoever was there, whether one person or a hundred, they melted away. They became a blurred background and only you were there in front of him.
So silently, he took a photo.
Really, you’d never knew this photo existed.
He quickly tucked his phone away quickly to make sure to clasp his hands and close his eyes as if he had just wished.
At the end of the day, you both wandered, allowing yourself to put away Google Maps for just a few hours and get lost in the city.
On the last night, per your daily dose of cafe talks, you saw Jungkook get a bit tipsy for the first time. Okay, he was like pretty much drunk.
You both decided to have wine at the cafe as a last hurrah in Venice.
You unexpectedly were tipsy as well, giggling constantly at almost anything that happened.
Jungkook was a funny drunk and to be completely honest, you didn’t remember much of that night. It was like spots in your memory.
You remembered Jungkook trying to tell a joke he saw on his phone earlier and attempting to reenact it, tipping back on his chair too far and falling completely over.
You remembered how you tried to take him on a joke-off claiming you had way better jokes than him. When you told your rebuttal joke, it was so bad that Jungkook laughed because it was so ironically not funny.
You remembered the both of you stumbling back to the hotel room barely able to walk in a straight line although you were less drunk than him so he leaned more on you with his arms around your shoulders, being the dead weight he was.
But you didn’t remember how you both were laughing happily until you dropped onto the bed and he pulled you close with his arms, legs still hanging off the bed claiming he never let you go and silence took over.
You both did not remember when Jungkook drunkenly proclaimed how much he had loved you and how sure he was about it. How he wanted to shout so loud to the gods that were listening.
You both did not remember when he proclaimed every single thing that he admired about you and that they were the reason he fell for you. His mouth forming details of you and his fingers travelings the slopes of your face and body from the angle that your nose sloped to the way the corners of your lips pulled up into possibly his most favorite smile on the planet.
You both did not remember how you responded by crying your eyes out about how beautifully he proclaimed his love and how you felt the same way but you were scared. Scared about this new unknown feeling that you now knew the name of and scared to admit it because this trip will eventually end and you feared how having these feelings would eventually mean nothing.
The next day you both woke holding onto each other and you didn’t know why your eyes were red and puffy.
Venice en route to Rome
You were finally headed to your last destination and your three months of adventure would end. Even though there was a week left until you both had to decide what was to come, the drive to Rome was filled mostly with silence.
Although you had been on this trip for nearly three months, the silent car ride had made it feel like almost the first one when he had just picked you up from the gas station.
The silence was brimming with unspoken emotions. Sadness? Longing?
The entire ride, Jungkook kept your hand in his, fingers gently brushing over your knuckles in a caressing way.
You barely looked at each other.
It was physically hard to. In past drives, you both spilled stories you experienced to pass the time or just talked about anything. Today, you found it hard to even glance in each others’ way when you felt the end looming closer with each mile passed.
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Rome, Italy
You weren’t going to lie. The dread of the end of the trip cast a shadow over the week spent in Rome. You still enjoyed yourselves as much as possible, but the dread was overwhelming. It was like you just took your heart, wrapped it up nicely, and presented it to Jungkook, and suddenly, two weeks later, you had to take it back. A present wasn’t meant to be taken back by the giver, but received, kept, and taken care of by the receiver.
You wish you hadn’t admitted anything in Provence, but looking back, you couldn’t make it. You couldn’t control a pot that’s about to boil over unless you control the heat causing it to, right? In the end, you ended up turning off the heat completely, didn’t you?
Unconsciously, you both allowed yourselves to distance, farther and farther every day. Less intimate touches and fewer embraces. It was like a psychological choice. Knowing you’d eventually go your separate ways, your minds were forcing your bodies to begin to prepare for the eventual impact.
“Let me take you out,” Jungkook spoke suddenly. “One last time,” a sad smile on his lips.
Tomorrow marked the end and although it was almost certain you had decided yourself, you would be parting ways.
“Okay,” you responded quietly.
You got ready that night, dressed to the nines. It was your last night so why the hell not? You pushed away any thoughts about tomorrow as far out as possible as you pulled on the most lavish dress you could find in your belongings, a red dress you somehow packed that you never had the guts to pull off at home.
Jungkook, himself, pulled on a dress shirt and black slacks.
You leaned against the balcony railing and watched the city skyline, the lights on the buildings across the river from you. The wind played with your hair, blowing it gently into different directions. Honestly, anytime spent on this balcony would be breathtaking.
You missed the footsteps of Jungkook approaching you from behind and your heart jumped slightly when a head leaned onto your shoulders and a pair of arms circled around your waist.
“I could spend an eternity with you. Not just here. Anywhere on this damn planet. Even if we were stuck on a deserted island,” he admitted.
Your lips curved into a smile and your heart skipped a few times hearing his words. “Even if we end up fighting over a single coconut for food?”
You felt his chest vibrate against your back as he let out a resounding chuckle. “I’d have to learn how to fish then. Ya know, just in case, so you don’t fight me over a coconut.”
You don’t know why but you felt a single tear rolling down your cheek at the thought of getting away with him. You weren’t sure if it was your insane emotions driving you to love this man or your naivety to what love was. For sure, you could love him.
“That would be perfect.” Unfortunately, you couldn’t hold your emotions from your tone and your voice faltered just a bit.
Jungkook frowned and his hands held onto your shoulder as he spun you around.
It was a single tear, but it gave you away and your smile couldn’t be sadder. His eyes searched yours, only to find melancholy.
“We haven’t talked about tomorrow,” you reminded. His eyes reflected the same emotions.
Jungkook’s hands held on your face in a gentle caress. “I want to kiss you.”
Then he did and you didn’t stop him. You missed his touch too much. Even though you both tried to separate as much as possible this week, it was like playing Jenga. The more you took out to build, the weaker the tower would be.
The more you tried to hold yourselves back, the weaker your resolves became.
To your surprise, after a brief moment, Jungkook was the one to pull away.
To his surprise, your hands reached to the back of his neck, pulling him back in. “Can we not care for tonight?”
Human greed was always strong.
Jungkook gave in, lips on yours once again, this time he kissed you harder and you had somehow staggered against the cool wall outside of your hotel room.
Now all your hard work was really thrown out the window.
“Up,” he spoke against your lips. You listened, legs looping around his waist within a second. His hands held you firmly as he walked away from the balcony, kicking the door shut behind him.
His tongue begged for entrance and as your back hit the bed, you gave it to him.
You allowed your hands to roam from his hair and daring yourself as your fingers glided under the hem of his shirt and onto warm skin.
His own hands ventured from your hips, up your sides, and to your hair finding purchase there.
“y/n,” and even though this flurry of activities had only been lighthearted and hadn't gone far from just kissing, Jungkook’s voice had a deeper, more husky tone in it. It was one with a hint of lust but mostly filled with an unsure feeling. “Are you sure?”
He'd known where this could lead to, where it could end and he didn't want it to end in regret.
You gave him a nod and you meant it.
Never been more sure.
For once, you’d let yourself be selfish. You knew what tomorrow would bring after your confession, but you wanted to be selfish.
Once again, human greed was too strong. You wanted him, you wanted to have all of him.
Without a second word, his lips separated from yours leaving you wanting them back as they began to play dangerous games with your body. First, your neck, then lower and lower.
You didn’t deny your body of what you really wanted that night because, in reaction, your body tensed with desire and you allowed your hands to find his hair again.
You wanted all of him and that night, you let him take you into oblivion as your clothing found their way to the floor in a pile next to the bed one by one. Then you both were stripped bare, naked to each other both physically and emotionally.
The feeling of being bare and laid out before him brought you a creeping feeling of self-consciousness until with two simple words from him, those feelings were flushed out. Gone as if they never existed.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, eyes grazing over your body in utter adoration. Then his eyes were back on your own.
He'd given you his love in the most intimate way possible that night. It was the love he proclaimed the night you both didn’t remember. He was proving it to you once again, sober.
His mouth had cherished you so, his body worshipped you with his all.
The act that some would call sinister became your heaven as his hands and mouth became familiarized with every curve your body owned, as his hips rocks into yours. You were his to cherish, to give himself to and he wanted to do it in the most tender way possible. He cherished your body as if it was the very moon and stars in the night sky as he made love to you.
The soft moans that escaped your lips, every breath you took, the way you arched your back in response to his movements. Jungkook noted them all because he was focused on you and solely you.
When he came to his high, your name fell from his lips like a mantra along with long strings of profanity. Not long after, your own body grew taut, then loose as you came undone before him.
He kissed you once again, gentle as ever, allowing you both to savor the moment of utter bliss.
Covered in sweat and bodily fluids, both tired from the highs you've experienced, you'd finally found your eyes begin to flutter shut, but not before memorizing each other's faces; the soft smiles you had on your faces.
With an arm under his head, his eyes watched you and a finger brushed past your jaw.
No words needed.
His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The intimate moments had passed and he just wanted to feel you skin to skin. Skin to skin was as close as he could get to you.
You wrapped your arms around his middle, a tired smile on your lips.
For that brief night, you both had actually managed to trick your minds into forgetting the goodbyes awaiting tomorrow. You were in the moment and there was nothing but.
I think I love you so much.
Your finger tapped on Jungkook’s arm, your eyes wandering over his bare skin. The sun began its journey into the sky and now today was the tomorrow you dreaded yesterday. You wished you could stay like this for a while, heck, for an eternity.
Yeah, let’s freeze time and you could spend just a moment more in his arms.
Your eyes matched his as if you both just acknowledged this was it. Today’s the day, the end.
“Come back with me. I can pay for you can go to university back in Seoul and I’ll beg my father to let me stay in Korea.” Jungkook paused before letting his deepest feelings take control of his voice and words.
“I can’t… we can’t just end this. It barely started and as cheesy as I sound, y/n, I’ve never felt this way about someone. I want to keep seeing you every day. I promise I won’t get bored. I want to learn about all of the weird quirks I didn’t get to yet and fall even more in love. I can’t just let this slip away like some brief summer love. Please give this a real chance. Come back with me.”
His words caused a sad smile to take the place of your previous frown and tears near falling from your eyes and in a heartbeat, you would have said yes. Not for offering to pay for your university, but for staying with him. In a heartbeat, you would have agreed to be with him, but that would mean being irrational.
You never knew you could fall in love with a stranger you agreed to go on a three month trip with. Yet, here you were.
And you were going to set yourself up to decline his offer to stay and be with him, to allow your relationship to continue even though last night, you both had just profusely admitted your love.
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Seoul, South Korea — the following autumn after that summer
You said no. You told him you couldn’t go with him to wherever it was. It wasn’t possible. He lived a life that was the complete opposite of yours. He had his own duties to return to and you had yours. You didn’t want him to sacrifice anything so you two could have hope on something that had too many uncertainties and vice versa.
There was no making commitments to be in a relationship together. You saw no resolution with that.
How could a prince be with a peasant? Life was no fairytale. That was the harsh reality.
The last time you saw Jeon Jungkook was at the Incheon International Airport shuttles where it’d take you to busses to take you back to your hometown.
Jungkook walked to the shuttles with you and waited, claiming his car wasn’t there yet. You knew it was a lie. You only sat on the bench with him and lay your head onto his shoulder, feeling his breath, up and down. Up and down.
No talking, just silence. When the shuttle came to a squeaky stop in front of the stop, you both stood and embraced. There were no words but, “Goodbye.”
You both didn’t know if there was anything to say. Do you have something to say like an emission of feelings to add to your departure? Surely, it was there, but no one attempted.
You turned to step onto the shuttle and sat down quickly to catch a glimpse of Jungkook as the shuttle drove off. Both your eyes remained locked. When he became nothing but a small dot and you couldn’t possibly turn your head anymore to watch him disappear from your sight, you sighed.
Jungkook was going to be greeted with a car to take him to his father’s company doors while you would be taking a shuttle to take you to where the busses to home were.
This is where the chance happening of the intertwined path of your lives would stop. They would branch off into different directions like a tree branch eventually growing to split into two so the life of the tree can continue. Both your lives would continue, separately.
Just as the trees become shades of reds, oranges, and browns in the autumn and fell from the ever-growing branches, you returned to your daily life.
Your parents were happy that you had returned to their home and even more glad when you enrolled yourself in classes to help with college credits so you could apply for university in the coming year.
Did you miss Jungkook? Yes, your heart yearned terribly the first few weeks when you went back to reality.
When you saw something from your trip together, whether it be a photo on your phone, those flowers that were pressed in the book, the faint scent of lavender on that page, or the dress you had worn the night you both danced in the rain, you felt like someone was pressing a knife to your heart once again.
The truth is you got to know this stranger with a kind heart, who loved singing with his heart, who had never once felt the trust he felt with you, who made you feel like you were one with the stars, who was the biggest dork on the planet and fell in love with him a place foreign to both of you.
One day, you managed to smile at the memory rather than feel the pain of missing something or someone and it felt good.
When you were finishing some Calculus homework at the cafe you worked at as the sun began to set, the doorbell rang for the first time in hours. You quickly closed the textbook and shoved it into your bag before rising from your seat near the counter. The customer was still observing the menu above as you rushed behind the counter.
“Hi, how can I help you?” You quickly typed in your ID into the POS screen to unlock it. You lifted your head with a smile.
A familiar pair of brown eyes observed you before the man cocked his head to the side a bit with a charming smile rising on his lips.
Your heart fluttered within your chest.
“Hey, y/n”
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a/n
reposting because i found out tumblr messed with my tags and now they’re fixed *long sigh*
but hopefully this story gets the love it needs after being screwed over :’) (aka, this one shot is literally my b a b y that i’ve nurtured for a long time)
yours truly, Selene ♡
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