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#Also half of this was written yesterday if you can believe it lol
applesontheground · 1 year
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I honestly can’t remember if I’ve actually written out this ask before and either deleted it or sent it out into the universe, but can you write how the Sinclair brothers would react (or just bo😉) to seeing their clumsy s/o try to fix something on a rooftop and accidentally slipping off. Reader laughs it off or maybe they’re slightly hurt and the brothers are like 😑😠 they thought you were hurt! You could have been hurt! I just love that kind of drama lol
oh, i’m a clumsy critter through and through so i feel this one a little too personally. i’d love to indulge it with some sinclair love! ❤ (also, i used the initial prompt for bo’s drabble, but threw in some diff ideas for vin & les! they’re partially anecdotal because as i’ve said, i get myself in jackassery on a weekly basis lol!)
the sinclair brothers & clumsy S/O 🕯️  (gn reader)
SFW | Word Count: 1,495 | The Sinclair Brothers x GN Reader (separate drabbles at ~400-600 words)
It was one drip spattering against your head too many. The remnant of yesterday’s rainstorm making its way through the shingles of the roof where it felt as though it had just done it to irritate you was enough to make you proactive, dropping what you were doing and heading for the back of the house.
You waited until dusk crept its way under the skin of the town and wake its glimmering façade to step out onto the back porch of the Sinclair home with the ladder. Vincent had rummaged it out of the garage without so much else besides an unwaivered stare when you explained what you were planning on doing.
He helped get you going because you weren’t his worry per se. You were Bo’s, which was more insisted on by the latter than something Vincent really agreed to. It was almost scarier than the fact you were about to get up on the roof without running it by him first.
You had just gotten your bearings, clambering up the cold and dusty metal rungs and flattening out against the shingles on your stomach, when you heard the door swing open and the familiar voice start talking, not yet aware there was no one inside to listen to him. You pushed up to stand, the rough slats enough for your soles to find a grip. Still, as you stood upright, your entire frame couldn’t help but rock a little as you felt for your bearings.
Of course, that was what the man had made his way through the house just in time to see when he stepped outside, hearing the scrabbling above his head and half believing he was hearing things before realizing you were in fact up there.
“Hey! Nuh uh!” Bo stepped back, getting a better view at what you were doing. He snapped his fingers to make you look before pointing to the porch in a vicious movement, “Get the fuck down, [Y/N]! The hell’re you doin’?” You paused, finally fumbling back onto your knees and replied, “The roof’s leaking.” You tried to push up to stand again, but the unsure noise soon had the ladder shifting as Bo took matters into his own hands, one foot on the first rung in a matter of seconds.
“Bo, it’s okay-“ You began, but he interrupted in a voice that somehow got meaner as he repeated himself, “[Y/N], said get down, damn it!”
The tone was enough to make you slide towards the gutter, rolling your eyes at first and expecting to be grabbed by him like some sort of unruly pet rather than a [boyfriend/girlfriend/partner]. It was the lack of tugging – rather, the firm settling of his palm against your hip as you started to step down the ladder – that made your attitude fizzle.
“I’ve seen stupid, and I’ve seen clumsy,” Bo muttered, not looking you in the eye but still keeping a hand on your lower back, “But a combination of the two? Lookin’ for a broken leg.” You paused, staring at the side of his face until he finally stopped minding the way you were climbing to look you back in the eye. When one foot touched the porch, he snaked his arm around one of your hips, hoisting you away from the ladder and muttering, “Now don’t give me that, I’m not sayin’ I don’t trust you.”
You scoffed, “Oh, what? Gonna tell me you don’t trust the roof? The ladder?” He froze, and ended the conversation by spinning on his heels, taking your feet off the ground again and making you squeal in surprised laughter. “If anyone’s doin’ that kind of work, it’s me. Got that?”
When he set you on your feet your knees suddenly buckled. He watched in bemusement as you stumbled forward when he let go, and when you only had an embarrassed glance over your shoulder, he muttered, “Yeah. Yeah, that wouldn’t have ended well for anyone around here.” He laughed to himself with another shake of his head, turning away from you.
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“Vincent, look at what I found at the flea market. Some-“ You turned away from where your eyes had caught onto the wall, stuck to some well-formed facial structure protruding in a lunge of wax, and were face to face with the back of an unfamiliar head.
“WHOOP-“ You let out an involuntary noise, your entire body flinching out of the way and in a twist of an ankle becoming parallel to the ground. You grasped the cassettes that you had brought to show Vincent for dear life as you went knee-first into the ground, making another silly noise as the air was knocked from you and the rest of your body hitting the floor in a solid thud.
The initial impact was still coursing through you, a prick of agony in your leg as you heard something drop against Vincent’s work desk. He put his hand on the desk, the visible eye straining at you. It maybe took a few good seconds before you noticed the slight wobbling of his sturdy frame, and the quiet snort that he quickly tried to muffle with an arm over his stone still mouth. Your jaw dropped in an exaggerated gesture, elbows pushing up to support you better as you jutted your neck at him and asked, “Are you laughing at me?”
He shook his head, turning away from you to get his bearings before doing anything else. You scoffed, slapping your hand against the floor in a one-armed shrug. “Hey, it was either that or I mess up your hard work.” You then gave a forlorn glance to the…person standing beside you.
He finally turned back around, sauntering over to hold his hand down. At a closer range, you could hear the quiet giggles from behind the mask. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh at your clown.” You muttered, and he finally paused to dust your shoulder off.
“…That it?” You asked, and even with the ingrained moment’s hesitation before doing it, he then pushed the delicate edge of his own mask up before giving you a peck on the cheek, a hand finally starting to move, you put on a great show here and again.
The second noise of exasperation just broke the giggles out a second time, its own encore as he wrapped his arms around you, finally noticing what you had dropped and nodding at them in a mute question.
“Oh, yeah!” You grinned, “Those!”
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It wasn’t until you were well in the middle of the stream, water dappling your exposed ankles as it trickled past, that you wondered if there was a reason in particular Lester had sent you to cross the wash-out first today.
“Mind the water now, rose overnight. Makes the rocks slippery as shit.” He called, but just as you had registered what he had said you took another step on a promising rock, and your heel skidded out from under you. Lester gasped as you fell back first into the water, the world falling silent and murky as even your head was pulled under.
Just as soon as it happened, you were finding your bearings and immediately pushing back out over the surface, arms flailing as you regained balance. “I’m okay!” You hollered, turning to stand in the rushing water on your knees, uncaring to the way your entire outfit was now soaked and you had to be at an angle alongside the current. You heaved yourself up, and what seemed like an entire pitcher’s worth of water came up with you in the form of soaked clothes and hair as you beamed in a dopey manner to the man still on land, not sure whether to laugh or scold you.
“The hell you are. Didn’t ya hear me?” He finally decided on the latter, throwing his hands up at the display in front of him. You replied with an exasperated strain to your voice, “Sure, but you forget I’m not a good listener.” He neared the shore as you waded closer, helping pull the sopping mess back to his side of the wash-out.
“Well. Think it’s more of a luck thing than a stupid thing.” He began, but as you gave him a daring glance he corrected himself, “Not sayin’ anything, now let me help ya out.” He took both of your wrists as you broke from the current, stumbling onto the land and bracing his own forearms to steady yourself.
“First person that makes bein’ a dope look cute.” He commented as you stood a little straighter, but when you only gave him another astounded expression he muttered, “Gon’ be quiet for a little bit.”
You scoffed at that, careening into him and making him flinch from the cold water soaking into his shirt as you lassoed your arms around his torso. “Never want you to be quiet.” You murmured, giving him a kiss as he finally figured a little water wouldn’t kill him.
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otmaaromanovas · 5 months
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What was Vera Gedroitz like? I have heard that she was “mean” or have heard her been talked about in a negative way, but honestly she is someone to look up to. A openly gay nurse, like that’s someone that I would look up too. Did the girls like her? Did the little pair even get to know her because she wasn’t at their infirmary? Thanks bestie! 🤍
Hi! Thank you so much for the question - sorry for the delay! I do love talking about Vera, so here we go...
Vera's personality
Vera was known to be gruff and commanding. Unfortunately, little is written directly about Vera's personality, as much of the primary sources focusses on her "unusualness" instead: her way of dressing (always masculine clothing), speaking in a low, gruff voice gravelled by years of cigarette smoke, and her relative openness about her sexuality. However, there was a warmer, more romantic side to Vera. She wrote poetry, sought the companionship of literary circles, and turned the grief of losing her brother during childhood into a truly revolutionary medical career. She could be brusque and private, possessing a no-nonsense attitude, but also incredibly compassionate and kind. She spent the last years of her life running a pharmacy with her wife, giving medicine and medical aid to the poor completely for free.
Was she liked by OTMA?
We can infer that she was, indeed, liked by OTMA, or at least by Nicholas and Alexandra. As a doctor to the royal household (who was specifically requested by Alexandra) she would have been held in high esteem. It is believed that Vera was also an occasional doctor to the imperial children: Nicholas and Alexandra's tendency to dismiss staff which they saw as behaving immorally, or being difficult in some way (especially when it came to those caring for their children) implies that they had warm feelings towards Vera due to her continued employment.
In fact, fellow nurse Valentina Chebotareva's diaries are very revealing of this relationship: when Anna Vyrubova was struck by a train, she noted in her diary that the Tsar "spoke for a long time" with Vera, entrusting her with Anna's care. She also wrote in 1917 that "I talked to Vera Ignatievna about the past. How close the Empress had been to her at the beginning of the war", implying that their relationship did decrease as Rasputin's influence monopolised. Vera had no time for Rasputin - one quite famous anecdote describes him standing in her way and Vera physically pushing him into a corridor to be rid of him lol. Despite this strain on her relationship with the Romanovs, and her activity in revolutionary groups during her youth, Vera remained fond of the family. She had, after all, taught Alexandra, Olga, and Tatiana personally during their nursing training. When the abdication was announced, Valentina wrote that Vera "sobbed like a helpless child."
It is from Tatiana's diaries where we learn the most about the sister's relationship with Vera. Ever detail-oriented, Tatiana's diaries are a beautiful patchwork of notes and observations about her patients and fellow workers. Interestingly, in her 1914 diary, Tatiana usually refers to Vera as "The Princess", reference to her royal title, rather than by her name in line with the doctor/tutor role that she had with the Grand Duchesses. This later changes to her first name and patronymic.
Monday 8 September 1914: "...Had tea with Papa and Mama, then the princess came over."
Wednesday 24 September 1914: "...From there to the infirmary with the princess... Had a lesson. The Princess was here."
Thursday 25 September 1914: "Had a lesson in the morning. At 11 o’clock again, like yesterday, we picked up the princess and went to the infirmary."
Letter from Tatiana to Nicholas II, 19 November 1914: "They took out a tiny fragment from Gogoberidze’s leg, but it was so small that the Princess was looking for it for almost a half hour and finally found it with difficulty. It was about this big “O,” no bigger."
Letter from Tatiana to Vera Cheborateva, 14 April 1917: "And where do Rita, ... and Vera Ign. live now?"
Letter from Tatiana to Vera Cheborateva, 8 January 1917: "We heard what Vera Ignatievna has turned into, and how she is walking around. How fast people change— it is even funny!"
Letter from Tatiana to Rita Khitrovo, 23 January 1918: "[The Baron] also wrote to me and said that he saw Vera Ignatievna at the infirmary. She is [wearing] epaulets, large boots with spurs, did not even ask the Baron how he was doing. So shameful. I did not expect how fast she would change. Although lately she had been very strange."
It is interesting here that Tatiana remarks about Vera's clothing - many photographs show that Vera had always dressed in the masculine style around the infirmary (suits, long coats, even masculine medical outfits), including in the presence of the Romanov family, so this would not have been a new or unusual phenomenon for the Grand Duchesses. Vera even sent this photograph of herself to Olga in 1915 - wearing a masculine style! She was not subtle.
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(That's one happy patient!) ... From these photos and documents you can clearly see that Alexandra, Olga, and Tatiana were very happy working alongside Vera who clearly more traditionally masculine clothing - I've pointed out Vera for ease of identification.
Perhaps Tatiana was pointing out this social irregularity in light of what she saw as a betrayal: I think it's very important to highlight the difference in their diaries before and after the Revolution. Vera stayed in the capital for a brief time, and could not openly support the Romanov family without compromising her work as a doctor. Eventually, she joined the 6th Siberian Rifle Regiment (which was still technically considered imperial) in order to provide surgery on the front lines which simultaneously escaping the capital. Valentina Chebatoreva's diaries make it very clear that Vera did not keep up correspondence with and/or show support for the Romanovs as it would have compromised her medical work: "Vera Ignatievna finds that it is impossible to answer each one [letter] so as not to give the impression of a "party"." I'm of the opinion that Tatiana's souring opinion towards Vera came from her mistaking Vera's self-preservation of herself and her work through not showing active support or maintaining correspondence to have been a betrayal.
Vera's whole life was medicine: she emigrated to Russia to study medicine, she became the first Russian woman doctor, she served in the Russo-Japanese War, First World War, and Revolutionary conflicts, she found her life partner Maria Dmitrievna through medicine, and even in retirement worked tirelessly to deliver healthcare and treatment to those less fortunate than her. It appears to Vera that, in order to continue to save lives, correspondence with the Romanovs was too much of a risk.
Did the little pair know her?
This is a great question! Off the top of my head, I can't recall any direct references to Vera in their diaries. Unlike Olga and Tatiana's diaries, the little pair's letters and diaries aren't available to read and search online, so I'm having to rely on my memory of reading those books unlike the ability to digitally search the big pair's for any mentions of Vera.
If we look through their albums however, we can see multiple photographs of Maria and Anastasia visiting Olga and Tatiana's infirmary and being photographed with the staff: including Vera. There are also photographs of Olga and Tatiana with Vera in the little pair's albums, implying that they took the photos. They may not have known her as well as Olga and Tatiana, but considering their visits to the big pair's hospital and Vera's visits to the palace, she was definitely an acquaintance.
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To conclude: Vera definitely wasn't to everyone's taste, especially those who preferred the image of a conservative, reserved woman. She was authoritative and determined - brilliant qualities for a doctor, though not encouraged within noble women. The Romanovs, during their friendship with her, truly appear to not have cared about her sexuality of her preference for masculine fashion (there are some gender historians who would have a much more nuanced take on this) - it was only after the Revolution, and her perceived turning against them, that these qualities were problematised. Vera was different, brilliantly so. She fought for what she wanted, what she needed. And, despite the definite constraints of the time, she was free.
I hope this answered your questions! I'm always happy to talk about Vera :)
Sources:
Tatiana Romanov, Daughter of the Last Tsar : Diaries and Letters, 1913-1918 by Helen Azar and Nicholas B.A. Nicholson
Photograph of Princess V.I. Giedroyts with a gift inscription to Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna. 18 March 1915. GARF. Ф. 673. Op. 1. Д. 243. L. 1 ob
The Princess who Transformed War Medicine - BBC
Princess Vera Gedroits: military surgeon, poet, and author by J.D.C. Bennet
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linklethehistorian · 2 years
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Cherish Development Notes — Part 1: Origin
Since two people have already asked me to make this a thing, and 7 others  also liked the post, I’ll just go ahead and put this first one out there. Along with my usual tags, I’m going to be tagging these posts “#Just Cherish Things”, so feel free to block, follow, or do absolutely nothing about the tag as desired. lol
I guess the first thing I really want to talk about — which I was actually asked about yesterday — was what the general process of writing the chapters for this fic is like, as a whole, and actually that’s a really interesting question because…my process for Cherish — given it’s my only non-oneshot fic — is actually way different from any other fic I write.
But, before I can talk about that, I first need to talk about something else — namely, its very different origins from all of the rest.
(Although it’s not super long, the rest is nevertheless under the cut for some basic Fifteen/Storm Bringer spoilers. Also, I guess since I’m putting one of these here, I’ll mention I talk about the ships VerRim/Rimlaine and ChuuArt here briefly, too, because…obviously. lol but really, the tags and the fact this is about a fic revolving around them should tell you that anyway)
You see, unlike all the other fics I’ve created — which, from their very conceptions, were all stories intended to someday be shared with the world — the tale that you all know today as Cherish had much more humble beginnings; that is to say, it did not start out with the intention to ever be a written fic at all.
In fact, tracing it all the way back to its true roots of like, January 2020 iirc, it was really nothing more than this extremely wild, elaborate…well, I guess you would call it a headcanon, originally.
I believe I mentioned in a much earlier ask about BSD Paul that it was somewhere between August of 2019 and the release of Storm Bringer that I began to openly dabble in front of friends with the idea of a regretful, even redeemable, Verlaine; this, in a sense, was a much more secretive extension of the groundwork I had already set there and in years prior (that groundwork being a long-standing scenario in which Chuuya had found a way in a future time to revive BSD!Arthur Rimbaud and the two fell in love, thus leaving Verlaine alone to suffer and dwell on the mistakes that led to him losing his partner and would-have-been lover many times over).
The primary distinction between it and its foundation material, however, was that, unlike with the said other headcanons and ships that set the stage for it to even happen, I had kept everything regarding poet!Arthur and Paul, and the pairing comprised of them, entirely to myself — at least, for a very long time. Why? Well, the reasons were actually quite simple, really; first and foremost, I didn’t think anyone could ever give even half a shit about it even if I’d tried, and secondly, I greatly feared being judged over it, even by some of my closest friends. I knew very well that there were at least a fair number of people out there on the internet in general who had a huge problem with “real person fiction”, as it’s called, and although I knew that technically BSD itself was a form of that in a weird way and thus most of the fandom would probably be a lot more understanding (not to mention that the real person involved was a long-dead historical figure, anyway), I honestly just couldn’t justify it to myself to go through the risk of harassment and confrontation just to share something that, in my mind, no one but me would ever have any interest in to begin with.
At that time, I had made up my mind that it would never see the light of day even among my friends as a headcanon, much less ever become a written fic.
However, as the months went by, and it kept growing and growing into something deeper and more interesting, it became a lot harder for me to hold to that self-made rule, and eventually I ended up giving in and rambling to just one of my friends about it in private — that person being my friend and ever-kind supporter, Jailrose, whom I felt safe with (and whom, it seems, no longer has a blog on here).
In the end, it is only her I have to thank for Cherish’s existence in its current form, as it was purely her constant enthusiasm, support, and insistence that despite my uncertainties, she thought it would make for a great fic she would love to read, that helped me to finally gain the courage well over a year later to publish it on AO3 as the fully-fledged, multi-chapter story in progress that you all know it for being today.
[Read the fic!]
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soliloquyepistolary · 2 years
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Last night we were talking a lot about sex and I started to feel an uncomfortable sensation in my heart and had to pull away to rebalance my energy. I tried to shake it off by taking a nap and meditating which took me one hour. I even tried to research about psychic attack, it really doesn’t feel like that is what was happening. All I know is I felt very lethargic and drained all of a sudden, and I questioned again, the motives behind why you say certain things. Why were you telling me all these intimate details about your sex lives with these people. I believe it was my own insecurities being reflected back at me. I feel bad that I showed that video about psychic attacks, I realise it’s very rude, I will have to apologise later. I think I wanted to blame you for making me feel that way. Maybe I wanted to make you feel bad too. I can tell from the way you reacted from me telling you that you weren’t doing that at all. I sense that you genuinely felt bad for making me feel uncomfortable. I really wish that you didn’t have to be the one who is apologising all the time, the power imbalance we have is completely weighted on my side. Perhaps the tables had to be turned so as to not have a repeat of what happened last time with that person who I had the same age gap with. It seems like I am still learning some type of lesson that has to due with boundaries. I can’t seem to enforce them. Or maybe it’s about telling people how I feel in the moment when it happens instead of waiting. Yesterday you asked me if we will fall in love with one person or many on NE and I get the feeling it was a loaded question so I deflected of course. Today you said you think you’re demi-sexual. 
Before I went to sleep I told myself that I already know the truth about him but now I want to consciously aware of it. I said to myself multiple times and had faith that I would be shown the answer. I had a dream that you went into my bed and you were holding me.  We were in this room but it was back when I had a bunk bed and I was on the lower half. It felt unbelievably tender and so caring. I could feel that you really, really loved me. Your arms moving into different positions over my body and it was like heaven. We both blocked our ears when my mum went to the toilet LOL. I also being consciously aware and slightly anxious about your nether region a couple of times but thankfully nothing happened. It was only for a couple of minutes and after you grinned at me and left the room. When you were gone I suddenly realised that I was naked, my clothes at my ankles. I suddenly felt embarrassed and scrambled to put them back on. Suddenly my sister appeared as I was doing this and she smirked at me and teased me about how what I had just been doing. She started talking about the sex she has with her BF and tried to hand me a white piece of paper with instructions on their favourite positions to do. It was written in a black sharpie and they even had a title for it. Even though I weirdly took the paper off her I didn’t want to see it. I can sense now that I want to be the type of person who can digest these things casually but I’m actually not. I think I’m supposed to trust you...  I had another dream where I was at work visiting my friends. And I took a glimpse of the scripts in line and saw my ex’s mother who was about third in line. I’m pretty sure she knew I saw her, I freaked out and ducked behind the counter immediately. I hid myself by lying under a table and messaged you about it. I think you replied back with something like ‘with what you’ve told me about her I don’t want to hear what she has to say’. After while I could sense that she was still in the shop so I tried to escape out the door of the warehouse. I could overhear the conversation and realised that she wasn’t simply here as a customer but to be an employee. There was no way to continue avoiding her so I turned around and greeted her. We ended up having a somewhat uncomfortable conversation. I don’t know why but I feel like she harboured some resentment for me because she made an accusatory remark about my part to play in the failure of my relationship with me ex. I don’t think she liked that I never introduced him to my parents. I started telling her how grateful I was for everything she did for me back then, inviting me into her home and looking after me. I extended those thanks to her husband. Now I’m starting to wonder if you cheated on me. 
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anoptimisticsnarker · 6 years
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So, we start this episode off right where we left off last time. Jonathan and Nancy are screaming for each other, only Nancy is the Upside Down and Jonathan is in the real world. Holy shit, that gateway closed up quick. Good thing Nancy got out before it did, though I think she's traumatized from the whole experience. Don't blame her.
Oh shit, Steve just saw Nancy and Jonathan together in her room, Jonathan likely just calming her down after the hell she went through. But Steve lacks that kind of context, and he did seem concerned about her in the car. I know I don't care for Steve and Nancy together, but you can see the heartbreak in Steve's face as he's watching through her window. (What is with everyone just creeping on each other...?)
Wait, so a girl named Jane was taken years ago and the mom, Terry Ives, wasn't able to get anything on it, nor were any of her claims substantiated. Oh... is Eleven really this Jane girl? Hmm, the plot thickens there... If it is true, then damn, we can add kidnapping to the list of things the researchers have down. Everything I learn about them makes me like them less and less. But Joyce and Hopper are on the case! Hope they can get something from her.
Nancy wants Jonathan to sleep with her in her bed. I know it's because of the trauma, but all I can smell is potential drama. Also, El didn't go back to Mike's. I think everything that happened finally got to her. And Mike, he put a lot of trust in her and it's been broken due to what's happened. Yesterday was just intense for all.
Oh, Jonathan and Nancy are on the case to try and find whatever the creature was. In spite of the fear she has, Nancy is still going through with it. What a trooper. And their theory of it being attracted to blood makes sense given that both Barb and the deer had blood on them when it appeared to them. Will, I don't remember if he had blood on him or not; if he did, then the theory really is sound.
When did Dustin become the source os reason in the group? Seriously though, I'm glad someone is able to see all sides and realize everyone had a hand in what happened the day before. He was all "shake Lucas's hand, or you will be banished from the party", which is so over-the-top, but I love it.
Nancy snuck out the house (presumably with Jonathan), and El slept in the woods last night. How did we get here, folks? (That was rhetorical, obviously. lol) Well, so much for making up. If anything, the talk they had just made everything so much worse. Despite Dustin trying not to split the party, it happened anyway. I get why Lucas would be hesitant to try and find El, but Mike is right. Without her, they're not nearly prepared enough to deal with what's in the Upside Down.
Again, simple mundane things cause El to go into flashback mode. Even something as simple and plain as a grocery store was enough to set her off. And then she just cruises out and steals a shitton of Eggo Waffles. I saw this out of context back when the show was new, but seeing it in context makes it even funnier. She did everything she could to get those damn waffles. (There was going to be a "Who raised you?" joke, but then I remembered where she was before, and got sad again.)
Terry looks absolutely gone. Neither Hopper nor Joyce speaking got through to her; all she was able to do was stare at the television. Also, Lucas is going to find the gate alone. Yeah, that doesn't sound like a great idea, but sometimes you can't stop people from doing what they want. I like the talk Mike and Dustin had, though them finding the aftermath of El's bulglary amused me too much. The collective "Oh shit" look they had was priceless. One thing though; who is watching them from afar?
Um, the more I hear about Terry's daughter, the more I do think Hopper was on to something when he said Jane being miscarried might have been covered up. Too much about what Terry described adds up to what Eleven can do. My friend Erin said Hopper and Joyce's storyline parodies conspiracy theories, and I see how the comparison was made because... Whoo boy.
Nancy and Jonathan going shopping... Somehow I didn't picture it happening like this. The cashier is just giving the biggest look of "What the fuck are you two doing with all of this?" and "I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit.". Their banter is cute.
...To bad it's ruined because of Steve and friends. I swear, for every small step Steve might make, he takes three large ones back. He lacks any context on what Jonathan and Nancy went through, made a gross assumption about her, and then prodded Jonathan to the point where he snapped. Worst part of all is that he, as of right now, got away while Jonathan is the one whos is getting arrested. Ugh, Steve better make the best turnaround ever because I really, really don't like him right now.
So, they really didn't get anything from Terry specifically, but Hopper isn't going to give up on finding Will. I feel like hearing "twelve years" was a lot for Joyce, but she at least knows she has a chance. Hopper doesn't. And I love how the scene ends with the two hearing that Jonathan is currently being held at the station.
Speaking of that, the person who is talking to Nancy sees what is so obvious to everyone but her at this point, Jonathan has fallen for her through all of this. I guess it is true that you don't notice how others feel for you no matter how obvious.
These bullies are actually relentless. I know they have names; I just don't care enough about them to try and remember them. Either way, they chase Mike and Dustin down for God knows how long, trying to stab them, only to have Mike jump off a cliff so Dustin wouldn't get his teeth cut out. Thank God El showed up in the nick of time to keep Mike from dying. She did break one of the bullies' arm, but given he was about to stab someone, fair. Though, I think doing all of that took it out of her. (I failed to mention how earlier she was just chilling in the woods, eating waffles. Iconic.)
Oh shit, they found El. And she's with Mike and Dustin. I do find it too be too much that they;re pulling out straps on three children, but these people clearly don't care about the safety of the youth. Though, they don't know (or maybe do know and didn't make it obvious) that Lucas was spying on them from a tree for a while, so he knows what's coming. Hopefully he's able to reach the others in time because we all know despite their fight, he's going to try and keep his friends and El safe.
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sukirichi · 3 years
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— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.
PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader
REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 
WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story
NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty
WC: 5.4k+
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The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.
Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.
Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.
He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.
You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.
“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”
“Yeah!”
“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”
“Yeah!”
“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”
“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”
He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”
“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”
“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”
“I know.”
“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.
Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.
“What exactly do you know about this industry?”
“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”
The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”
“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”
“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”
“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”
“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”
“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”
“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”
“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.
Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”
It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.
You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!
“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”
“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”
“Fushiguro Megumi.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”
“You trying to say something?”
You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”
Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.
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You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.
Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.
The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.
He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.
“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”
“Oh, thank you. You are...?”
“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.
“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”
Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.
“Whoa, you made all this?!”
Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”
At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”
“You can – if you book an appointment.”
“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.
“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”
“Why not?”
“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”
You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”
That was the biggest lie of your life.
The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.
You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.
And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.
In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.
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“Hey, Y/N, you free?”
You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.
“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”
“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”
You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.
He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.
It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.
“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”
“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.
Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.
“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”
“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.
Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.
You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?
“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.
“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”
“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”
“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”
“Something wrong with that?”
“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”
“Sukuna?”
“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”
“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.
Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”
He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”
“How sweet of you.”
“Shut up.”
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You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.
He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.
You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.
Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.
Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.
You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.
One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.
Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”
Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.
“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”
“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”
Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”
“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.
It was now or never.
“Can I see your tattoos too?”
“Why do you want to see them?”
“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”
“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”
“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.
“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”
Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”
“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.
A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.
You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”
Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”
You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.
“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”
“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”
“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”
Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”
“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”
“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”
“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.
You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.
Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”
“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”
“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.
Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”
“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”
“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”
“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.
A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.
He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.
You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”
“Intense?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.
“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”
“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.
Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”
“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.
Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.
“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”
“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”
He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.
“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”
4K notes · View notes
yoonpobs · 3 years
Text
bad boy good thing x.
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pairing: jeon jungkook x oc
genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining
warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)
words: 8, 711
summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing
a/n:
so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL
anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)
and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:
let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3
all the love and I hope you're having a great
day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️
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“Open up!”
The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.
You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.
“I can hear you!” You call.
“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.
You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.
And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.
You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.
“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.
You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”
She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.
Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.
“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”
You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”
She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.
“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.
When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.
“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.
She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.
“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”
You snort. “And the food?”
“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.
You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”
Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”
You scowl.
“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.
Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.
Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.
“Why would he do that?” You cry.
“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”
You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.
“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.
At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.
“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”
You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.
“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.
For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.
But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.
Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.
“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.
“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.
“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.
You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.
“I don’t know.” You whisper.
She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”
“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.
“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”
You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.
“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.
You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.
“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”
You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.
“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”
“I’m—”
“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”
You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.
“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”
You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.
You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.
So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.
“I think I like Jungkook.”
Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.
“I figured as much.”
Your eyes widened, “How—?”
It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.
“Call it a woman’s intuition.”
You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.
“And we kissed.”
At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”
You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.
“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”
You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.
Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.
She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”
“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”
Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.
“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.
“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”
You sigh, nodding your head.
“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.
“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.
Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.
“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.
Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.
“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.
You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.
“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”
Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.
“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”
“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.
She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”
You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.
“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”
It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.
That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.
It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.
“I’m scared.” You whisper.
She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.
“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”
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Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.
Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.
You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.
But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.
It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.
You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.
“____?” He asks confusedly.
You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”
He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”
Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.
And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”
Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.
“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.
When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.
“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”
You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.
“I’m sorry.” You blurt.
“_____ why are you—”
“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.
“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.
You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.
Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.
“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.
“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”
Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.
“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.
Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”
Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.
“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.
You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”
“I know you have feelings for him.”
Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.
“I-I don’t—”
“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,
The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.
“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.
He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”
“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.
“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”
You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.
“I’m—”
“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”
You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”
Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”
“How did you …” You trail off.
“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”
You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.
Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”
You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”
The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.
“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”
Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”
He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.
“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”
You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.
Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”
You sigh.
“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”
You furrow your brows, “Why?”
“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”
You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.
“I am not—!”
He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.
You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.
“We kissed.” You blurt.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”
You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.
“He was my first kiss.”
At this, Namjoon’s widen.
“When you were in high school?” He pries.
You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.
“Two months ago.” You mutter.
Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.
“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”
You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”
“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.
You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.
“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.
Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”
“I’m a virgin.”
Namjoon blinks.
“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”
“Oh.”
“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.
Namjoon only stares at you.
“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”
“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.
“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.
“Okay …?”
“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”
You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.
“You’re not—”
You groan.
“Namjoon.”
“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”
You duck your head.
“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”
Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.
“Fuck.”
His eyes widen.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.
“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”
It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.
“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.
“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.
He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”
Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”
Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”
You sigh.
“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”
He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”
“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”
He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.
“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”
You shake your head.
“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.
“Then let me offer you another perspective.”
You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.
“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But
“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”
“You don’t have to—”
“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”
You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.
“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”
You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.
“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”
“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”
You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.
“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”
You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.
“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”
“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.
“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.
You fiddle with your thumbs.
“What do you want?”
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Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.
Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.
It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.
You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.
But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.
She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.
You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.
So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.
You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth
You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.
“Want some?”
You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.
“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.
Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.
“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”
You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”
She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.
“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.
The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.
“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.
“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”
You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.
“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.
“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.
The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.
“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”
Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”
You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.
“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.
“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.
Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.
“I introduced it to him.” You inform.
She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.
“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”
She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”
You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”
Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.
“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”
You frown, “I don’t.”
She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.
“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”
“Excuse me?” You scowl.
“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”
And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.
“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”
The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.
You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.
“I …” She chokes.
You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.
But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.
“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.
“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.
You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.
“Excuse me—?”
“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.
You scowl, “Look I don’t—”
“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”
You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?
“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”
“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.
She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”
She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.
“Yes.” You snap childishly.
Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.
“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.
“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.
“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”
Your eyes widen, “What—?”
“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”
You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.
“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.
“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”
“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”
She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.
“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.
“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”
She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”
You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.
“You’re his type.” You say softly.
Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.
“And you believe that?”
You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”
For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.
“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”
You flush, “No. I’m not.”
She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”
You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.
“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.
But for some reason you need to deny it, again.
“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.
“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”
You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.
Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.
“Do you want to know something?” She asks.
You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.
“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”
Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.
“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”
“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.
“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.
You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.
“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.
“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”
Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”
Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.
“I know.”
She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”
You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”
She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”
You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”
“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”
“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”
“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.
Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.
“Oh.” You mumble.
She nods, squeezing your hand.
“I think he misses you.”
You purse your lips.
You missed him, too.
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highqueenofelfhame · 3 years
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fafs, twenty-two
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masterlist // rowaelin au // 4k words follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites​ and turn on post notifs for updates! i don’t do a tag list anymore because it’s too time consuming and doesn’t work half the time.  thank you to @punkassbookjockey26​ and @westofmoon​ for help with this one! ash had a great idea featured in here and katie is always my little editing faerie that makes my writing loads better.
AND WE’RE BACK! first things first i do not know when the next update will be, this wasn’t even supposed to happen anytime soon but i missed it and them and here we are. i wrote it so quickly it’s a little weird. i also had a major hiccup with google docs during the editing process so if you notice any extremely wonky typos or sentences, please dm me about it so i can fix it. i think i got it all but i’m unsure and nervous lol. also-- i can’t believe this fic is 86k words. it’s the longest thing i’ve ever written and i am just very proud of myself and this fic. i hope you guys are still excited and eager to read this story, and i hope you enjoy!
Waking up with Aelin’s body still tangled with his after a day of complete and utter ravishing was a luxury that Rowan never wanted to give up. Her golden hair was splayed across the pillow with her face turned toward him. The sunlight illuminated her body’s  soft curves and hard muscles, and he didn’t stop himself from exploring her skin with his fingertips. 
In sleep, her face was smooth and void of concern, worry, or anxiety. She looked so calm like this, and Rowan desperately wished he could bring that same sort of peace to her reality. Most of the time, when she was awake, when the facade of the swaggering assassin fell away, there was still a tightness in her jaw and a sharp coiling to her muscles. Like she was always on alert. Even when she was quick with her wit and sharp tongue, he knew that part of her was still always lying in wait. 
Rowan knew she’d never known a day of peace in her life. Maybe before everything had happened with her parents, but ever since she was a young girl, the explosion of chaos that wrecked every day had sharpened her into a blade. It was paranoia. It was spending her life peering around corners before she walked out because any number of people could have been waiting to take her down.
But when she was asleep, she looked younger. The romantic in him thought she looked like an angel, but he was sure if he voiced that out loud, she would adamantly disagree. Still, she was so beautiful. Any hour of the day, she was the most immaculate thing he had ever seen, and he loved her. 
Love. When he had said it yesterday, something had changed on her face. It wasn’t anything he could quite place— he was sure he saw relief, adoration, and love on her face. Yet, there had been tension to her mouth when he kissed her. It had confused him, but she had seemed so wholly blissful the rest of the day it had been easy to push from the forefront of his mind. It had been a day of cooking together, watching movies, and completely ignoring those movies to peel their clothes off and drown in the feeling of one another. They’d had yet another coupling before drifting off into deep sleep, and Rowan had muttered the words between her shoulder blades seconds before falling into oblivion. Aelin had squeezed his hand in response, but at no point yesterday had she said it out loud.
Not that he needed her to. Rowan saw her for everything that she was. He knew about lives she’d taken, about the blood that stained her soul. He knew that sick, fleshy slap had been Arobynn’s heart hitting the ground, seconds after Aelin had succeeded in cutting it from his chest. None of that scared him— Rowan knew he had no reason to fear the woman that shared his bed. Yesterday had been tangible proof of that, that she was willing to further darken her soul to keep him safe. He would do the same with no hesitation. Rowan would follow Aelin Galathynius to the ends of the earth if it meant being with her. 
But he sensed some hesitation. He could see it in her face and feel it in the way her hands had stuttered over his skin. Despite that, Rowan knew that she loved him. If he was to believe the feeling in his gut, she had felt that way for a while now. Perhaps he had just said those damned words too soon. 
His thoughts were brought to a pause as she roused from sleep, bare legs shifting against his. Beneath the sheets, her body arched as she chased away the stiffness in her limbs, toes pointing while they ran down his calf. It took a solid thirty seconds for her eyes to blink open, the morning sun casting brilliant light within them. Rowan couldn’t help himself and leaned down to press the softest of kisses to her mouth. 
“I need to shower,” she whispered, voice thick with sleep as the heel of her hands dug into her eyes. Rowan watched quietly, letting her drag her body awake while his knuckles brushed over her ribs. 
“I have to go into the office for a few hours. They have some questions for me that I’m sure they’ll have for you, too. But I told them to give you another day to rest.”
“You were kidnapped and drugged. I hardly need another day to decompress,” she countered, sitting up and reaching for his shirt at the edge of the bed. Rowan watched while she tugged it on and flipped her hair out from the collar. 
“It was a long day for you, too.”
“I can handle it.” Taught tension strung the words together as they hung between them. It was so close to coming across as snappy, and she seemed to realize it as she looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a tight smile. “But if you think I should wait until tomorrow, I’ll wait until tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” he said, relief flooding him to his toes. Instead of saying anything, Aelin merely hummed in response and disappeared into the bathroom. In truth, he’d wanted to talk with Lorcan first and see what was going on after his curt summons an hour ago. If anything negative was going to come of what had transpired over the last few days, Rowan wanted to know, and he wanted to be able to give Aelin any heads up that he could. 
As he heard the sounds of water thumping against the tile of the shower, Rowan stretched his own body out in his bed. Focusing on the ceiling fan above him, he flipped through the Rolodex of his memory to recount everything that had happened in the last few years the best that he could. 
Everything had started at the gala where  he’d first met Aelin. Their casual friendship came after, followed by a relationship that blossomed over several months. And when Sam had been killed, and he found Celaena Sardothien left for dead in a warehouse,the truth had slowly unraveled. Anger had been the first thing he’d felt, followed by betrayal. Losing the woman he’d known as Lilian had forced him through grief as if she’d died. 
And in a way, she had. But Rowan also knew that the woman he loved was one and the same. It was the same heart beating under his fingertips, the same lips he ached to kiss. Aelin had made more than one comment lately about burying Celaena Sardothien somewhere that no one could ever find her, paired with a sardonic laugh that made it sound like a joke. But some days, he couldn’t figure out if there was truth in that statement. If she was going to try to run to escape the terrors that she’d endured over the last few years. 
His fingers raked through his hair as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and made for his closet.He went through the motions of putting on a suit for work, his mind still caught up on Aelin. Despite knowing she wouldn’t run, there was still that fear there. Rowan just wasn’t sure what he was more scared of - the law catching up with her or the pain of being left behind. 
~*~
It wasn’t good. In fact, it was worse than terrible. He’d known it from the second he’d stepped into the conference room and noticed the files stacked on the tables. There had been no reason to read the labels. He already knew that every file was a different assassination that Aelin had committed. From what he could tell as he lowered into a seat, this was a meeting about what they could do to finally convict Celaena Sardothien. 
It had gotten worse as soon as Lorcan started talking. There had been no beating around the bush about what everyone wanted to happen. Maeve was even sitting in at the head of the table while everyone on Rowan’s team chimed in about different cases they had studied and what details could potentially be used for evidence against her. To his credit, Rowan managed to stay silent the majority of the meeting and only spoke when he was required.
But as soon as everyone had filed out and the door clicked shut, Lorcan had said the one thing Rowan had been hoping he wouldn’t ever hear.
“We want you to testify against her.” The sentence sent a powerful jolt of dread through his body, and his hands began to shake against his thighs. He curled them into tight fists and turned his gaze to the window. Rifthold was bustling beneath them, no one having a single clue that they wanted his testimony to lock away the love of his life.
“Look,” Lorcan said, leaning forward on his elbows. “I’ve let you carry out whatever dangerous, kinky fantasy you wanted to play with and kept my mouth shut about it. You’re an idiot if you think I don’t know where she stays most of the time or if I don’t see how you’ve started to look at her. But she’s a murderer. One that you put behind bars not too long ago. One that I know you’ve been getting closer to, and I thought she might tell you something that would help our case. That’s why I let it happen because we need whatever she tells you when she thinks she’s safe to really be able to put her away.”
“She doesn’t tell me anything useful about the case.” It was only partially a lie. He knew some of her secrets, some of her darkest and heavily guarded ones. But there was a lot of information that she never told him because it could be used against her. 
“I think we both know that’s bullshit. You’re playing house with her, for gods' sake. I know she’s told you at least one thing that would be useful, and you have to wake up at some point, Rowan. You aren’t doing yourself any favors by deluding yourself into thinking you can have a future with her. She’s a murderer. She’s a con artist. She’s a thief. She is just biding her time before she slits your throat in the middle of the night and—”
“That’s enough.” 
“When we call you to testify, you’ll be under oath. You can’t lie, and if you pull this same bullshit in court that you’re trying to pull with me right now, I will personally make sure you’re locked up for it.”
“Like a good friend,” he snarked, eyes hard as he looked back over at someone he had considered a friend at one point. Maybe not now. Not when he was hellbent on locking Aelin away by using his own words against him.
“If you want to ruin your own life, that’s on you. Don’t try to pin that on me.” Rowan’s jaw clenched while he stared at Lorcan, the darkness in his eyes having nothing to do with their color. “I’m not a fool. I know she was somehow linked to what happened to Elide, and you are insane if you think I’m going to let her walk around and do it again.” 
The temper he had been keeping on a tight leash was slipping. His nails were digging painfully into his palms as the vein in his forehead pulsed. If Lorcan was looking for his body language, he might notice how hard his heart was beating based on the throbbing of the artery in his neck. He might see the rigidity in Rowan’s jaw and the anger flaring in his green eyes. 
“Aelin didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Elide, and you are too clouded by your judgment to see a clear picture. By ignoring the facts, you aren’t protecting her. You’re using it as leverage to get a leg up in your career, so if you want to talk about who is putting Elide in danger, look in the mirror.” There was a sharpness to his tone that he couldn’t keep hidden, one that had Lorcan’s shoulders tensing as he clenched a pen in his fist. 
“You can tell me all you want that your little girlfriend didn’t try to kill my fiancée, but I don’t buy it. If it wasn’t directly by her hand, she had some part in it, and I will not let that happen again.” If Aelin knew what Lorcan was saying, the guilt would eat her alive. It already had been. He had seen her jolt awake in the middle of the night so many times from the deaths that fell on her head. He had spent too much time chasing away the nightmares, too much time holding her hand while she cried about what had happened to everyone she had ever loved.
“You protect what’s yours, and I’ll protect what’s mine.” Rowan couldn’t have said it more plainly if he tried. There was no surprise on Lorcan’s face, however. He merely sat back in his chair with a slight smirk pulling at his lips. When all was said and done, and Rowan looked back on the argument, he might not have a clue who had the upper hand. There was no telling from where he sat who had won.
“When this all falls apart and bites you in the ass, I can’t wait to see what you say about her in court.” 
Rowan said little else before leaving the conference room and exiting the building altogether. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to hit something, anything. He had half a mind to go back inside and lay Lorcan out on his ass for everything he’d insinuated about Aelin. Even the brick of the office building would satiate his need to hit something as hard as Lorcan’s head. 
His day really couldn’t get much worse than how it had gone so far, he decided. Aelin had seemed almost distant this morning, barely returning the kiss he gave her before he left his apartment. Now he was expected to plot behind her back, a move that would lock her away forever. Trying not to dwell on the verdict, he took his time walking to his car, flipping his keys over his finger to give his hands something to do. 
Life in prison wasn’t the worst her sentence could be. Rowan already knew that if she was found guilty, the penalty very well could be death. 
~*~
Undeserving. Aelin Galathynius was wholly undeserving of the way Rowan looked at her when she woke up. Despite her heart fluttering in her chest when she saw his expression, her veins had flooded with ice. It had been easier to pretend everything was fine yesterday after he’d uttered those words to her. It had been easy to keep dragging him back to bed to avoid talking, to avoid her own feelings bubbling to the surface. Feelings that she was doing her damnedest to keep choked down but wasn’t sure how much longer they could stay locked up. The warmth of his body pressing against hers had almost been enough to thaw out her bones. Yet when she woke up and saw that look on his face, a heavy weight had dropped back into the pit of her stomach. 
So after he left, she’d carefully packed all of her clothes into a small duffel bag she found in the top of Rowan’s closet. Every shirt she’d brought had been folded into tiny squares the same way she had folded away her feelings. 
It wasn’t that she didn’t love Rowan. She did. It was the most overwhelming thing she had ever felt, making every part of her body ache. Yet, she refused to let herself feel it. She refused to let him feel it while so much was on the line. It wasn’t just their hearts; it was everything. His life, his jobs, his friends, his soul. How much would Rowan compromise to keep her safe? How much would he wash down the drain to save her from the fate that awaited her? She had already lost everyone and everything that there was for her to lose, but she couldn’t be the reason why Rowan lost everything, too. Not when she was so undeserving of the love that radiated from him. 
Not when she had a ledger so crimson and bloody that it would never be clean. Her soul was marred with scars of every life she had ever taken. Those people had stopped breathing by her hands, and she would be damned if the same thing happened to him. He’d already been kidnapped because of her. She didn’t believe any of the bullshit Arobynn had spewed about her being a pawn. If anything, he was trying to make her hesitate long enough to let him live so she could dig for answers. 
But she knew Arobynn. Knew he was a liar. Knew everything he did and said was to save his own hide and prolong his useless life. She had seen him do it again and again, and when it came down to it, she wasn’t willing to let him say anything in his defense. If Rowan hadn’t said her name and pulled her from that blind rage, Aelin may have gone as far as to cut his tongue out just to ensure that even in whatever hell he burned for eternity in, he could never speak another word. 
No, everything had been because of her. All the pain her loved ones had felt while they bled out on the ground. Rowan kidnapped and drugged and left with bruises speckling his body. And she refused to let it go on any longer.
“What’s this?” Aelin’s eyes moved to the front door where Rowan now stood. She hadn’t even heard it open or close, so caught up in her plan to get out of there as quickly as possible. There was a rigidity to his body that had been mirrored in his tone. Compared to how Rowan had seemed yesterday and this morning, he looked like a wire ready to snap. Confusion weighed heavy between his brows, and the color seemed to be slipping from his cheeks.
“I’m going back to my apartment. Without an imminent threat, I don’t need to be here anymore.” It was the truth of the situation but not of her heart. She hoped her voice was steady and convincing enough. 
“Is everything okay?” He asked, kneeling before where she was perched on the end of his bed. The duffel bag was full beside her, and she didn’t miss how his eyes focused on it before looking back at her face. 
“Yep.”
“Aelin.”  So many emotions flickered through her name when it tumbled from his lips. Frustration and concern seemed to be the most obvious, perhaps a bit of anxiety. Exhaustion. Worry. Irritation. It was difficult to pick out which ones were aimed at her. For his sake, she forced herself to smile. 
“I just don’t want you to get in trouble with me being here all the time.”
“I don’t care about that.” A pang of sadness ricocheted through her body. That he truly didn’t care about the consequences of being with her because he thought he loved her. 
“I know you don’t, but I do,” she said simply. Her smile vanished as he gave a curt nod and rose to his feet with a sigh. The fingers that had spent hours memorizing every inch of her body only yesterday raked through his hair roughly. The meeting hadn’t gone well; she could tell without asking. 
“Do you want me to help you carry the bag back?” The words sounded tired and heavy, escaping on the end of a sigh. His body language told her he would rather not be having this conversation and the way he put more space between them to lean against the bathroom door made it even worse. 
“No. I could use a walk anyway.” She had told herself all day that it would be easier if he didn’t put up much of a fight and try to persuade her into staying. Still…when he didn’t object any further, it felt like a confirmation that maybe he hadn’t meant to say what he’d said yesterday. Maybe it had been a slip of the tongue while he was delirious from pleasure. 
It made it easier that he walked her to the door and just let her leave, but it didn’t hurt any less when he didn’t at least try to kiss her goodbye. 
~*~
“You look like shit,” was the first thing Nox said when Aelin opened the door to her tiny apartment. Eyes rolling, she let him in and scooped the takeout bags from his hand, heading for the couch. Pride and Prejudice played on the television while she dug into her container of Chinese takeout. Making himself at home, Nox kicked his shoes off by the door and soon dropped to sit beside her to eat his own dinner. “You wanna talk about it?”
“I want to eat my food and chase it with the bottle of rum you said you’d bring.” There was little inflection to her voice while she spoke around a mouthful of food. 
“Is this about the suit?”
“I literally just said that I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You actually didn’t answer my question; you deflected, which is kind of cowardly if you ask me. I didn’t think Celaena Sardothien was scared of anything, least of all a conversation about her feelings.” His words hit their mark, gnawing at her mind the way her teeth did her cheek. Turning them over in her mind, her eyes blurred on the meal in her hands. Celaena, perhaps, wasn’t scared of anything. She could walk into any situation and leave the victor, compartmentalizing any feelings she had into perfectly wrapped packages that she could assess at a later date. 
Aelin wasn't that person, though. These days her feelings were a hurricane ravaging her soul, and she couldn't escape them. Not anymore. 
When she had ripped Arobynn’s heart from his chest, she had expected to feel content. There was a peace she thought would crash over her in waves, like his heart no longer beating would soothe the darkest parts of her,soul. Instead, there had only been a sharp ringing in her ears while she held the fleshy mass in her hands, an emptiness that she had never felt before crushing in on all sides. It may as well have been her own death. Maybe that’s what it would take for her to feel at peace.
“Celaena.” Nox’s voice followed a jab to her shoulder with his finger, and she whipped her head around to look at him. “What is it? What’s wrong?” 
Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear his voice. It almost sounded like she was underwater. It took several more thumps of her heart to focus on his face, and she didn’t realize that her cheeks were wet until he brushed at them with his thumb. Truthfully, she ached to tell someone, anyone, about the turmoil that ravaged her. But Rowan was the only person that knew her for everything that she was. He was the only person, save for Arobynn, that knew her true identity. And Rowan was the last person she could get herself to be fully honest with today. Nox didn’t know the truth; he was on a  need-to-know basis. There was just no accounting for how he might react if she told him everything, so instead of letting honest words tumble from her lips, she forced them up into a smile and shook her head. 
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
166 notes · View notes
eureka-its-zico · 3 years
Text
Irrevocably Yours Pt. 2
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Part 1 
Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has some of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
A/N: So Part 2 is that slow burn build up (with possible cute moments?) and part 3 will be the actual SMUTTY goodness. Hopefully this is something cute and fluffy that is enjoyable and helps progress the story a little more so when a full length next part of a bunch of smut comes it all makes sense. Or idk anymore lol I edited this thing four times and I just really hope you all like it  Please enjoy this wordy mess. I wasn’t sure how to properly write it out the end and yeah...I winged it. If it needs to be fixed lmk please!! As always, I hope you all enjoy. Much love, Jenn
P.s. when I wrote this I listened to Lauv’s “I Like Me Better,” and Pink Sweat$ Feat. Kehlani’s “At My Worst,” on repeat like crazy.
Jungkook x Reader
Word count: 15,496 (I know:it’s a hefty boy)
Genre: Fluffy/Smutty, slow burn, 
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The next day at school you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was going to happen. And sure, maybe you did wake up from a dream replaying that moment in the mud. The ending is a little bit different. This time, dream you didn’t let your chance to kiss him go by. When the opportunity presented itself, and you were both looking at one another like before, you’d leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t surprised to feel him kissing you back. 
You could still feel the ghost of the imagination of him leaning down to press his lips against yours. The way he leaned in; eyes soft with longing as his body leaned deeper in against you. The weight of him pressing you into the mud until you were sure an imprint of this moment would be there forever. This imaginary kiss you’d shared was sweet, chaste, and everything you could’ve hoped for. Deepening at the last second as your alarm blared you back into realty. 
It made you want to ring your hands through your hair in frustration. 
Your whole walk to school was nothing but foggy images of the dream on repeat. A mixture of yesterday’s events accompanied them with each frame until you weren’t sure which was the actual moments or what your head had created. I mean, you did know he didn’t kiss you, but...the look in his eyes. Maybe Jungkook hadn’t, but there was that moment you swore maybe he felt the painful comedic romance moment of it all too. 
All these unanswered what if’s you'd created had built an impossible chasm that seemed to stretch infinitely wider between you in your head. In the end, you were your own bully as your mind stayed up until three that morning playing out every scenario you could think of. Even the ones that ended with you probably reading everything wrong, because what did you know about body language? Or, more specifically, boys built like Jeon Jungkook.
It didn’t matter that you had two tests today and never finished your homework for home period, but what the hell. Nothing like hopelessly daydreaming about the boy who may or may not have flirted with you and harmonized along to songs with a hidden voice of an angel, am I right? And sure, a large part of your night was  spent chastising yourself half the time to remind you there was no way in hell Jungkook could feel that way towards you. Even just a little. Your inner monologue of bringing yourself back down to earth, another culprit in the growing list of reasons why none of your assignments were completed. 
What can you say? You were a mess.
Your only game plan you’d been able to agree on was just to daydream out the window. Writing out your own hapless love story starring the boy who sat across from you in the home room. With a silent plea to the universe that you weren’t called on to answer any questions. 
Your arrival at homeroom was met with barely seconds to spare. The bell rang behind you, and a few other students, as you rushed towards your desk. 
“Hurry, hurry to your seats! Or I’ll write you up as late!”
Mr. Choi was all talk. Everyone knew it and his excessive arm movements to rush every body that passed his desk made him look exactly like a conductor. His crazy movements were enough to distract you for a split second from the one person you were desperate to ignore. 
“Good morning, class. I hope you are all fully rested and awake for class this morning. Let’s have us open our books to page two hundred and forty-two and continue on with our lesson.” 
In unison the sound of backpacks unzipping with students reaching in their backpacks to bring out textbooks filled the class. The only person who didn’t currently have said book was holding his hand up, and seated directly across from you. 
“Yes, Jungkook?”
“Seonsaengnim, I’m sorry. I haven’t received my textbooks yet.”
“Ah, that’s alright, Jungkook. You can go ahead and share with Y/N, again.”
You hoped your face wasn’t giving away the panic you felt rising up to match the blush that was streaking across your cheeks. Jungkook’s hand was already on the leg of your desk. His fingers tips grazing across your knee in passing as his hand wrapped around the bar and used it to bring you closer to him. You kept your eyes glued to page two hundred and forty-three and refused to look in his direction. Jungkook seemed to find a way to remedy this; his hand came into view and grabbed hold of the book corner and slid it over to his side. And as if he was the world’s greatest magician, he now had your attention. 
Your eyes immediately shoot up to acknowledge his presence, instead of staying on the book. You knew that devilish smirk of his would be there to greet you even before you actually saw it. 
“Well, good morning to you too, Y/N.”
His voice practically hummed a tune as he spoke. His eyes heavily searched your face, and you prayed whatever he found wasn’t any lasting signs of rosy cheeks. 
“Good morning, Jungkook. I hope you slept well.”
“I slept very well, thank you.”
“That’s good-“
He cut you off fast, his next words a hush of teasing: “Even though some crazy girl tried to smother me in mud yesterday.” 
Your world narrowed in on his smug position in his chair, but quickly realized he just wanted your attention. The smile he wore softened around the edges as his eyes tried to look away from you and yet found their way back. You did your best to hide your smile and must have failed miserably for his face noticeably brightened. 
“I’m sure if that’s what she was doing - which I doubt - you probably deserved it.” 
Jungkook pretended to be wounded and caused you to practically jump out of your seat when his free hand landed on top of yours. 
“I can’t believe you think I deserve to be smothered,” he pouted. 
You rolled your eyes in a weak attempt to look away from him. Anything to not be swallowed up by how stupidly cute he looked in this exact moment. The fingers that held your pencil lazily tapping on the pages of the math book to bring his focus to something else that wasn’t you. 
“We need to pay attention.”
It was the only valuable excuse you could come up with to look away from him. But who were you kidding? You didn’t have to be looking in Jungkook’s direction to be painfully aware that he was there. His own gaze burned straight through you and left a trail of heat everywhere his eyes seemed to land. 
Right now, you were aware they were on your lips and stirring every emotion from your dream you tried to suppress. Plus, you weren’t being cute. Unless Jungkook found the sight of you chewing your bottom lip into dust attractive. 
It was a terrible nervous habit that seemed to only backfire right this second. You were sure he was ready to make a comment on it. You waited patiently for it to come in between you mindlessly copying equations off the board and the sea of arms flying up to answer whatever it was you’d just written. My gosh, you were trying so damn hard to not pay attention that you were doing nothing but paying attention to him. 
Please don’t let him just see I’m doodling. 
Mr. Choi was in the middle of showing how to work out a long equation when you decided it was safe to give Jungkook a glance. It was instantaneous how quickly you regretted it. 
You jumped back against your seat in a weak attempt to recover some space. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d missed it -missed him- getting so close, but you had. Jungkook’s face was mere inches from yours and it took everything to not show him you weren’t at all bothered. 
“Jungkook,” you whispered fiercely. “What.are.you.doing!”
Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes squinting as they looked around the side of your head. The gesture made you increasingly subconscious until you couldn’t keep your hand from going up to brush alongside it. 
“What? What is it?”
You were expecting the worst. 
“I think I see some mud still stuck inside your ear.”
And like magic your earlier blush reappeared. Your tongue rolled against the bottom of your teeth in a weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to stop it as the urge to give in tugged mercilessly at your lips. The playful glint in his eyes was enough to keep the panic of how incredibly close he still was. Your eyes hopelessly glancing at the pair of lips that plagued your dreams. 
Jungkook noticed. 
And how did you know this, you might ask? 
Jungkook gave it away by the dramatic way his lower lip was drawn in by his teeth. Every movement he made sure was exaggerated and stupidly slow. His eyes watch for your reaction. He didn’t have to wait long; your eyes were glued to them long before his teeth joined the equation. You should’ve felt more embarrassed at your own blunt display - or maybe at his -but, god help you, you weren’t. 
You tore your gaze away from him and did your best to pretend whatever part of the lesson you’d missed was interesting. The dirt on your shoes could’ve been more interesting at this moment; anything to keep you from looking back at him. 
“I rinsed my hair three times in the shower. Thank you very much.” 
“Did you think of me while you were washing yourself clean?”
If what Jungkook was after was seeing your face light up brighter than a tomato he’d succeeded. Your cheeks instantly flushed and felt scolding hot. The only line of defense you could think of to fight the devilish look in his eyes was to give him a smack on his arm. The motion only caused his sinister smile to turn into a full blown grin; a bark of laughter leaving him seconds later. 
Jungkook chuckled out an, “Ouch!” His body leaning back, faux wounded, and rays of sunshine pouring out of him in waves. 
“I meant when you were getting the mud out of your hair.” His voice carried the singing sweetness of his laughter; airy and light. This boy who you did think of in the shower. All hard edges and softness; sour and sweet. Your very own sour patch kid. “I mean, I thought of you when I tried scrubbing it out from behind my ears.”
Your heart gave a brief jump at his omission. What you wished you would’ve focused on was the fact he’d admitted to thinking of you...in his own shower. But nope! Instead, your mind appeared to focus more on the fact it was while he scrubbed at his ears. 
“I scrubbed my ears too.”
Oh. My. God, you inwardly cringed. 
Is that really what your magical brain decided to say in return? Jungkook leaned back in, eyes inspecting not just your ear, but your entire space. Recklessly moving in dangerously close, and your heart was ready to beg for mercy. Whether to completely close the space between you or to stop teasing, of which you weren’t sure. 
“It appears you didn’t do that good of a job,” he huffed.
A gurgled scream flew into your throat; the sound was utterly ridiculous and Jungkook ate it up. His head flew back in laughter as your hand moved to swat at him again. 
The disruption turned the attention of your teacher directly to the two of you, and Mr. Choi was quick to address it. 
“Jean Jungkook! Y/L/N, Y/N!”
The both of you rose from your seats in unison. Jungkook’s rise the definition of graceful, while yours in comparison was met with anxiety and your knees colliding with your desk. Your small “Oomph,” of pain sending him into a fit of giggles beside you. The hand you sent in to pinch at his leg only sent him into another fit. 
“Y/N!”
Stupid, stupid! Of course he would see.
“Seonsaengnim!”
To appease him, you felt your body respond in a ninety-degree salute. Your face keeping down to stare at your shoes and praying you weren’t about to be sent out of the room. 
“Would you mind explaining what Jungkook and you found so interesting that the two of you felt like you didn’t need to be a part of class.”
God, it wasn’t a question. He really wanted you to tell him, and what could you say? 
“Oh, he was just asking me if I was in the shower...thinking of him. And he was thinking of me too!”
Which wasn't a lie. Maybe it wasn’t as dirty as he might have intended, but it was enough to make your cheeks flush to life with their usual color these days. Your mind was still racing with an appropriate answer for Mr. Choi. You were taking so long you were ready to blurt out anything he might want to hear. 
“Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook gave a respectful bow and lifted his head. His full attention now resting on the impatiently waiting man at the front of the class. “We were discussing the fact that you, respectfully, have written the equation wrong on the board.” 
The entire class seized up. A collective air was taken at Jungkook’s bold attempt to correct him. It was awkwardly obvious that he wasn’t happy at the idea of being corrected. However, Jungkook remained unfazed and waited for the right time to speak. 
“Is that so?” He snapped. “If it is so wrong, Jeon, then please, come and fix it for me.”
You were sure his order for Jungkook to go to the front would make him back down . No one enjoyed doing class work on the board up front for all to see. But you’d forgotten Jungkook wasn’t like everyone else. He kept his head high and moved to grab his cane; his hand wrapping tightly to its handle. Jungkook stepped out from inside his desk and let his feet carry him forward. He walked with a noticeable lack of a limp and you were willing to bet that strike of pride was costing him. 
It wasn’t that you couldn’t believe that Jungkook was able to walk without it. It was just that your memory forced you to recall the pain he was in during the field trip. The flashes of frustration as his eyes threatened to spill over with tears. 
Jungkook came to stand beside Mr. Choi. His hand reaching out to take the marker that the older man had held out waiting for him to prove his equation wrong. He plucked it from the older man’s hand and moved the last few inches to stand in front of the board. His eyes scanning the problem quickly. Your breath held tight in your chest as you watched him get permission to grab the eraser. The class transfixed on his every movement.
You wondered how many of the girls in your class focused on him like you were. The same way your eyes ate up every simple movement he made. The notable flex of his back while he stretched to erase the middle and last part of what Mr. Choi had written out. 
“You had a good start here, Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook paused to stretch out his hand. Fingers marking underneath the start of the problem. “But you didn’t multiply these after they were divided, and because of this the middle became wrong. With your core of the problem being wrong the solution was never able to end in its final conclusion.”
With every word, Jungkook’s voice became more self-assured. His presence enveloping the room and demanding the attention he’d already received without question. Mr. Choi watched on with his arms crossed; index finger hugging his mouth in concentration as he watched Jungkook work. From the back of the class, you could see students writing down the new formula. Some of them realized the obvious error Mr. Choi had made. 
Jungkook looked at the problem over again on repeat. If it’d been you, you would have left it where it was knowing you’d done what no one else did. But Jungkook wanted to know, for himself, that it was correct. 
Finally, he stepped back from the whiteboard and handed the marker back to Mr. Choi. Who looked measurably impressed with him. His index finger he’d used for thinking now covered up a timid smile before he dropped it to grab a hold of the marker. 
“Go ahead and have a seat, Jungkook.”
Jungkook gave him a passing bow as he made his way back towards the back of the class. Back to you. It took everything you had not to notice how everyone’s view of him seemed to change. Even the honor students; the ones bound for scholarship glory to prestigious colleges now seemed to take new interest in him. 
You’d heard stories about Jungkook, like everyone else did. The Boy Wonder. The boy who seemed unfairly good at everything. Before you’d ever met him, a part of you believed there wasn’t a way the universe would seriously do that. And yet, as he moved to sit back down beside you, you suddenly felt the overwhelming sensation of being below average. Your subconscious rose up to stop whatever sunlight you’d felt at his earlier words, and crushed it until it began to dim. All but snuffing it out. 
Jungkook fell back into the seat at his desk riding the high of confidence he’d gained from proving he’d know how to fix the answer. Not just know it; teach it. The air around him completely changed. He was the sun and the rest of you were becoming helplessly lost in his orbit. From the backwards glances of the others around you, you were pretty sure they weren’t going to mind one bit. 
Either Jungkook was honestly oblivious to all the attention or he just didn’t care. He practically beamed as he leaned himself closer to you completely unaware at how breathless he made you. That smile you’d admired during your field trip showed itself beaming and bright. He was so damn pleased with himself his eyes sparked with joy and you wish you could’ve pouted. Maybe found the strength not to care or to wonder if he could see how he affected you. 
You wanted to pout and be in your own bubble, damn it. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N. I don’t think he’ll bother us again.”
Us. 
Those butterflies you’d sworn to yourself you were not feeling towards him began to come to life. Or were they butterflies? You weren’t sure what to call the feeling Jungkook gave you. 
Sure, Jungkook made your heart thunder in your chest like a caged animal. And yea, maybe you swore to yourself there was an attraction there that you couldn’t explain, but that was just your dopamine talking. That didn’t mean the two of you were soulmates or the universe decided to bring you both together by a mess of unseen choices. 
But...when Jungkook looked at you this way it was hard to tell your thundering heart anything else. 
The two of you continued to look at one another. A heartbeat of time passing between you with Jungkook waiting for your reply. You watched the edges of his smile start to wilt as realization set in that you weren’t planning to  reply. No smile or teasing remark was headed his way, and just as fast as he noticed it, determination swiftly replaced the light weighted joy he’d shown moments earlier. 
“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’m positive he will leave us alone the rest of the class. I promise.”
God, why did he have to make things so difficult? When Jungkook spoke the words, “I promise,” they’d been so earnest. He meant them. Here he was trying to turn the tables and be your knight, instead of you being his. It would have worked, but what he didn’t know was that you weren’t worried about Mr. Choi. Not really. 
No one could tear you down further than you were able to do to yourself. 
He was still waiting for the answer that you would never give. You turned to face forward in your chair and tried to forget the ripple of sadness that moved over his face. The cost of your stubbornness suddenly felt too high. No matter how it made you feel though, you refused to look over in his direction. 
An awkward chasm had built between the two of you. Mostly, well, obviously it was all because of you. You figured Jungkook would eventually stop looking at you. You prayed he would stop. Every time he did it your body became painfully aware of his gaze, and the longing it held for you to acknowledge him. And every time you remained facing front. You no longer could pretend to focus, however, and that seemed to be all the signs Jungkook needed to know you were in some way paying attention.
Your notebook that’d been left unattended on the desk became his private art museum. The doodles started off silly and slowly morphed into small faces and objects that held impressive detail. You tried your best to ignore it; his arm practically took up most of the space on your desk. The angle forced him to shoulder into your space to the point that if you did finally turn to look at him you’d run inches away from his cheek. 
You were doing your best to pay attention to whatever your teacher was doing at the front. Your eyes watched as a wave of hands went up to answer questions you’d never heard. Yours kept sliding back down to the latest doodle he was making. The latest one he was working on had forced Jungkook to move further inland on your notepad. His forearm getting dangerously close to having to rest in your lap. 
It continued like this the remainder of class. For all the effort you’d put in the last half hour of pretending he wasn’t there, Jungkook shattered it within seconds. 
He’d repositioned himself with each new doodle he started. His shoulder wedged itself against yours and his forearm had completely taken up what little space was left on your desk. You were trying very hard to not pay attention to how said forearm was dangerously close to your chest. There was no hiding the redness of your cheeks. 
Without thinking, you whipped your head to look at him and almost yelled. You knew he was close, but nothing prepared you for this.
“Excuse me,” you whispered, voice incredulous. 
Jungkook turned to look at you and...was he pouting? His eyes played up on the childish quality as he turned to you and batted his eyes.
“Can I help you?”
“Ugh, can I help you? Do you need paper or something?”
“I have paper right here. Thanks.”
Jungkook patted the notepad with the end of his pen. Satisfied with his answer he turned his attention back to his latest artistic endeavor. 
“You know this is my desk. Right?”
“I like to think of it more like our desk. Sharing a space like we shared music.”
“Ya, Jungkook. You realize you blackmailed me into using my ipod.”
Jungkook feigned shock. His mouth dropping open and his eyes brows going too high up into his hairline. The entire scene was exaggerated and ridiculous. The scene forced you to roll your lips against your teeth to keep from smiling. The effort it took to hide your grin wasn’t unnoticed by Jungkook, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’d been his goal all along. 
“Blackmail sounds so crass. I like to think of it as bargaining.”
“So we agree it’s called blackmail, then.” 
The theatrics of his face dropped into a serious stare that left his face completely blank. Void of all emotion except the annoyance that drew a heavy frown from his face. It was stupidly cute and this time you did allow yourself to smile. Your fingers reached out to grab one of his puffed out cheeks and gave it a sweet pinch, like a grandmother, and cooed in his direction. 
“Oooooh Jungkookie, don’t frown. We’ve all gotta be wrong sometimes.” 
He playfully nipped at your hand to make you snatch it away. It took everything in you not to make a sound at his sudden movement. Your mouth hung open in an awkward smile-shout as you brought your handle against your chest. 
“I think you’re misinterpreting the facts here. Maybe you hit your head on a small pebble or something when you fell in the mud.”
“You mean when you pulled me in.”
He shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I don’t think I recall any force being used yesterday. You just fell on my chest trying to take advantage of me in my time of need.”
Now it was your turn to look deadpanned in his direction. Jungkook didn’t try to hide his wicked smile, however, and the cage of butterflies that were housed in your gut were released all over again. 
“Your appa must be a lawyer. It’d explain why you’re so good at bullshitting.”
“CEO, actually. But I would say you’re close. They are also full of shit.” 
You weren’t sure what to say to this omission about his father. Underneath the sarcasm felt like a heavy chasm that spoke of the death of a relationship. Your curiosity threatened to get the best of you, but you decided to just throw it away. Filing it away inside a little folder you’d made for little known facts about him. 
The bell rang and the mass of bodies in class all began to rise from their seats. All of them eager to rush from the classroom and do whatever plans they’d made to enjoy their little bit of freedom. You were reaching for your bookbag when Jungkook’s hand was just there. A part of you worried he’d decided to play a game of keep away, or something that fit his playful mood, Instead, he placed it down on the desk. 
“Oh, thank you, Jungkook.”
God. Why were you staring? Why was he staring?
The room was still filled with the small display of chaotic teenage energy. Most of them had already filed out of the classroom, while some were still putting things away. Honor students were arguing with the teacher about markings he’d left on papers. Small groups of friends chatting happily as they moved in tight clusters through the door. So much was going on around you, and yet the only person you were aware of was him. 
“You’re welcome. Have a good lunch, Y/N.”
The playful air that’d been around him had completely disappeared. This boy who stood before you now was more reminiscent of when you’d first met than the boy you’d grown to like. What had made him grow so distant?
“You too, Kookie.”
It slipped out. You couldn’t stop yourself. He’d already started to walk away in his retreat. As soon as his pet name you’d given him hit his ears he completely stopped moving. His head whipped around to glance at you with that devilish grin raised high on his cheeks. 
“Kookie? Are you calling me a snack?”
If your eyes could’ve gotten any wider, they would’ve left your skull. The embarrassment was hot on your cheeks and you knew Jungkook would tease you without mercy for the slip up. By the look in his eyes you could tell he was never going to let this go. Not ever. He would be too happy to remind you of this until the day you died. Or until graduation. Whichever came first.
This time you scooped up your bookbag and snatched your book off the desk clutching them to your chest. In your haste to grab them and go, your knee collided with the edge of the desk, but you’d worry about that possible bruise later. You just needed to flee before Jungkook got any closer. 
“No, no. It was an accident.”
“You called me a snack by accident?”
You were backing up towards the safety of the open hallway. Your shoulders shrugging too high and your laugh too high-pitched in your attempt to play it cool.
“No snack nicknames here. It was just a slip of the tongue. I must just be hungry, ya know.”
“Are you hungry for me?”
Oh, he was intolerable sometimes. It didn’t matter how flustered he made you. A part of you knew his endless teasing was growing on you. You liked it, and the sane part of you wondered if you’d gone crazy. 
“Ya, Jungkook-”
“I think you mean, Kookie,” he cut in. 
Jungkook held a single finger up to silence you. He’d stopped moving towards you and let out a laugh as you tried to swat his hand down. He looked so much happier than he did moments ago. That alone made his teasing at your expense worth it. 
“No I mean, Jungkook. It’s the name your parents gave you.” You stated, proud that your voice sounded more stable than you felt. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch now. You should do the same and I’ll...see you later.”
You waited for him to argue. To continue to make comments in passing to keep your face rosy and flushed. He surprised you by just standing there in silence. His smile wide on his face and eyes looking at you like you’d held the moon. A look you weren’t used to and made you unsure how to respond. 
You started to walk back towards the door and found yourself disappointed when he didn’t follow. You sent him an awkward wave as your arms still held onto your things from your desk. Jungkook showed his amusement by giving you a wave in return.
“See you later, Y/N.”
At his words you turned on your heel and headed out towards the courtyard. No longer eager to eat your lunch that you’d packed. Your mind replayed his words and knew, without a doubt, he would keep his word.
—————-
Lunch went by as quickly as it came. Instead of eating your lunch with friends, you’d opted for sulking in the auditorium. Absentmindedly taking small bits off your food as you considered what had happened between Jungkook and you. 
There was flirting there. You may be a little delusional, but you weren’t delusional about this. It was obvious to anyone who witnessed it and yet you tried to deny its existence at every turn.  Of course, you knew why. 
It just didn’t make logical sense. You were two opposites that shouldn’t be in the least bit interested in the other. Well, that didn’t really seem correct when it came to Jungkook. He was attractive to everyone and probably even inanimate objects. But you...you just couldn’t see yourself that way. You’d only ever had one relationship in your life and it had been short-lived and in the third grade. 
Throwing what little was left of your sandwich back inside it’s little brown coffin, you removed yourself from your spot. A huff left you as you reached out to pick up your mess and started to hop back down the steps one-by-one. 
You weren’t sure what walking around was going to do. For the hundredth time since this day started, you were lost in your own head. The only thing you knew for certain was that you’d hoped to run into him again. A thought came to you that maybe, just this day, he’d shown up in the school's cafeteria. 
You could think of a million excuses for why you’d need to go into the cafeteria and it wouldn’t be weird. Just the thought of not coming off weird, while most certainly being weird, made you beam at your own creativity. 
You’d reached the last step and we’re crossing the field when you noticed, on the other side, the very boy you were looking for. He was alone and sitting under the shade of the only tree next to the amphitheater. His back against the bark and a knee drawn up to give his notepad a place to perch. Whatever he was writing, drawing, or formulating held his interest and refused to let him look up. 
All your previous bravado deflated in a second. It would be harder to deny you weren’t actively seeking him out if you went to him now. But, who said that you wanted too? 
Grabbing the strap of your book bag tight, you started back on your mission. Your legs made quick work across the field. It wasn’t until there was only a few feet left between you that he looked up. His brow still furrowed in tight creases of concentration as he decided if you were a friend or foe. Your feet almost tripped over themselves when he smiled at you. 
“Y/N!” He called happily. “What brings you over here?”
“I came looking for my snack.”
The surprise on his face made your bold choice of a response worth it. Jungkook, being who he was, quickly recovered and set his notebook and pencil down beside him. He placed his arms casually on his propped up leg and leaned forward as if he was about to tell you a secret. 
“Well, you found me. Why did you come looking for me? Really.”
You tried to think quickly of what to say. The idea of telling him the truth, that you’d just wanted to see him, felt painfully honest and might press him to ask for you to explain. How could you explain that in the short time you’d met him he was both the most interesting and infuriating man you’d ever met. But he was also the most beautiful, and had a delicate softness under his hard exterior that you were growing to love. He was basically the perfect description of the onion from Shrek. 
An idea clicked in your head and your hands quickly moved inside your bag and produced another brown bag. 
“I wanted to come see if you’d eaten. I had some spare kimchi rice ball’s my omma made.”
You extended the bag out to him. Your eyes locked together as you waited for him to either accept it or deny it. Jungkook surprised you by leaning forward and taking it gently from you. It took some effort, but he crossed his legs -his bad one in an awkward position - and plopped the bag down between his legs. 
You moved to sit beside him in the grass and took your book bag off your shoulder and into your lap. You watched as he moved to open the bag and peered cautiously inside. 
“It’s not a bomb,” you chided. 
“I never know with you.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile spreading like wildfire across your lips. Jungkook was so charismatic it felt inevitable and fighting against it was futile. He took a large bite of the rice ball and practically swooned. His eyes had fallen shut and a ridiculous chanting of endless “Mhm’s” had started rising up around you. 
“Should I leave you two alone?”
Jungkook’s eyes snapped open and for a moment you were worried maybe you did pull him out of some weird food ritual. His eyes were blank and then, all at once, he was back to being his usual animated self. The hand that held the rice ball shaking in your direction before shoving what was left inside his mouth. 
“This is unbelievably delicious.” He mumbled around his food. “You said your omma made these?”
“Yup!”
You’d said it in English just to dramatically pop the P at the end. Extending out your own kind of dramatics to match Jungkook’s. You leaned your hands back into the grass and noticed Jungkook watch your every move as you did. 
“Is your omma married?”
Your face fell into a deadpan stare as you replied, “Seriously? Of course her and my appa are still married, you creep.”
“If you can cook like your omma, Y/N I’m willing to lend you my amazing tutoring services. All for the low price of making things as delicious as this.”
He was already mid-way through shoving the second rice ball in his mouth. His head tilted back to drop it down. A piece of rice must have dislodged itself from its balled shape, because he erupted in a coughing fit. You couldn’t help but laugh as you handed him your water. 
“I think I’ll steer clear of rice treats. Just to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”
Jungkook was about to lift the bottle up to his lips and stopped. His eyes falling on you with a playful glare. You held your hands up in mock surrender as you leaned forward. Your hands clap together to get pieces of grass and soil from your hands. 
While he drank the water you’d offered up the two of you fell into companionable silence. You didn’t mind waiting and Jungkook was happy that you did. When he’d finished with the bottle, he set it down beside him. His hand moving like a flopping fish in your direction to make you give him something that you’d had no idea he’d asked for. 
“Come on. Let’s see your math homework.” 
“For what?”
“To start your tutoring. Duh.”
You hated how cute he’d made the word sound. The way his lips smiled around it and left him beaming at you like a little kid on Christmas. 
“Can we pass? We just left the class and I hate math. A lot.”
Jungkook tsked you but didn’t look disappointed. 
“You can’t get better at something if you give up on it. Luckily for you, you’ve got the best person in the subject to tutor you.”
“For a fee,” you pointed out. 
“All the best things come with a price. I’m most definitely one of them. Now. Book.”
His hand movements were more controlled now. His fingers simply waved once -twice- for you to hurry it up and place what he’d asked in his hand. You really didn’t want any part of this. The thought was sweet, but when you said you hated math you meant it. So yeah, maybe you were grumbling a little as you reached inside your book bag and taking a little longer than was necessary to hand it over. 
Jungkook took it from you in one smooth motion and had it open to the spot previously in class. All your homework problems you’d left unfinished glaring against the white of the page. His eyes were already scanning over what little problems you’d written down. A clicking noise from his closed mouth reminding you why exactly you hadn’t finished more of it. The reason was sitting right in front of you. 
His hand flicked back out and he held it open. His eyes never lifted off the page as he demanded, “Pencil.”
“What the heck? Why am I supplying everything.”
“Cause I’m supplying myself,” he shot back. His hands taking the pencil you handed over to him. “Plus, I also can’t seem to find any in my bag.” 
“You didn’t even look.”
Jungkook gave a graceful shrug. His attention was fully engrossed in the problems. You weren’t ready for how cute he looked. How adorable those concentration creases in his forehead made him look, even deadly serious, with his fingers tapping the pencil absentmindedly on the paper. When he figured out what was missing from the equation he quickly erased and reconfigured everything on the page. 
You were staring intently at him, both because his angle’s were ridiculously handsome but also, the way the sun fell down on him here, peaking through the trees, felt like magic. It was hard to believe the universe was more than just molecules and that luck was thrown out randomly. If it was, maybe you’d caught some. 
Your thoughts were running wild and your concentration was no longer in the safe zone. Maybe that’s why when he finally looked up from the notebook and found you staring he’d smiled. Not his teasing one. Or the condescending either. This smile was soft like a secret, and directed only at you. \
“See something you like?”
His voice was gentle in his playfulness. As if he wanted to take the cautionary approach in case you were spooked. 
“Maybe I do.”
A smile of your own spread to match his and Jungkook wasn’t surprised. He was just happy, and it was a lovely sight to see. He looked away from you with his hand moving up to smooth out the hair on the back of his neck. He flicked the pencil down on the notebook and brought it forward for you to see. 
“Let’s get back to this. I’ll be honest with you. It’s pretty bad. You missed a whole line on the third problem that left you with an incomplete answer. Not to mention,” he lifted up the notebook and motioned towards the whole page, “Where is all the rest of the homework?”
Jungkook’s voice was filled with the beginnings of laughter. Not specifically towards you, but just the blatant fact you did not care. You gave him your best nonchalant shrug. In reality, you did care. It bothered you it wasn’t finished. 
Your fingers were digging in the grass and ripping some of it up and throwing it out into the field. 
“I had a hard time concentrating last night. Plus, if I’m being honest math has always been the hardest subject for me.”
“And that is why I’m going to help you.”
“For a fee,” you reminded him. 
“I’ll teach you the easiest way I know how to do these and I promise you, you’ll be flying through these problems in no time.”
The sincerity in his voice was evident. Jungkook really believed it and he wanted you to believe it too. You just couldn’t understand why and you found yourself speaking your mind. 
“Why are you wanting to help me?”
It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. His face went blank as he looked at you one last time before he looked away. Whatever he was looking at he wasn’t really seeing. He just needed someplace else to look than the person he was talking to you. You did it plenty of times yourself. 
Whatever he’d decided on to say had caused his shoulders to square. Determined that whatever he needed to say he would make sure it meant something. 
“I like spending time with you.”
The smile you’d worn completely shattered as you stared at him. The butterflies rushed up and up until they trapped themselves in your throat. Jungkook’s admission was basically three words dropped away from just saying he liked you. 
This surprising admission should’ve been enough to make yourself not care who you saw walking. Or care when he stopped, his small mob with him, and start gesturing at his imaginary watch. His fingers rubbing together for money owed. 
It was worse when Jungkook looked back and took notice. Even worse when he looked back at you with questions swirling in his eyes. 
“Everything okay?”
Your eyes looked down to the safety of your hands. The way they were helplessly fidgeting back in the grass and tearing it apart like a miniature tantrum was brewing inside you. You hated that after all this time, you let Lee Kwon upset you by making you feel embarrassed about your dad. That he felt the need to tell everyone the business deal between his father and yours. How every time he told it he’d turned him more and more into a villain of his own misfortune. 
Without a reason why you took back your notebook from Jungkook and shoved it inside your bag. You were ready to leave. You didn’t want to explain, but you knew Jungkook wouldn’t let you just leave without one. 
He reached out and his hand gently wrapped around your wrist to stop you. There was no force. Nothing that hinted that he would keep you there if you didn’t want to be kept. Looking at him felt harder. His genuine worry almost threatened to let the tears from your frustration spill forward. 
“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. Your vision dragging away from him and back to the retreating back of the sociopath, Lee Kwon. 
You didn’t try to shake him off. You actually felt comforted by his worrisome touch. The way he leaned in closer as if he would pull you into his arms at any moment. As much as you wanted that to happen, you knew it wouldn’t happen. A deep sigh had built up in your chest and you released it while you looked back at him. 
“Look. Eventually, I know you’re going to hear about it: my dad, I mean.”
“That’s kind of odd high school kids would talk about someone’s appa.”
“You and me both,” you agreed. “But Kwon’s dad is a banker who doesn’t believe in client confidentiality. So he tells his son about his day over dinner and-“
“And he decides to bring it to school to make your life miserable,” Jungkook finished for you. 
He understood and didn’t need you to simplify it anymore. His hand left your arm and you suddenly found yourself missing his comforting touch. It was still there, that comfort, in the way his eyes softened and he leaned in intent to listen to whatever you needed to get off your chest. You appreciated his attention, but also hated it at the same time. 
“What’s your Appa’s thing?”
God. He did understand. Maybe just a little too well for your liking. 
“Gambling. It started when I was in the seventh grade. At first it wasn’t anything too crazy. He’d always been able to even it out. But then he became obsessed with the idea of winning big. Kept betting on things we couldn’t afford to lose. Eventually, he bet too high and ended up losing the business he and my mom built together and our house. They had to pay the bank back.”
“A bank this dude’s Appa works at.”
“Correct. My Appa...he isn’t a bad man. He’s paid his debt and hasn’t gambled since. What good is it for me or anyone else to make him feel bad for the rest of his life?”
“I don’t get it. Why does that have to do with you, though?”
You’d wondered the same exact thing half of your adolescent life. You shrugged and looked at Jungkook wondering if maybe he’d be able to make sense of it better than you could. 
“Twelve year old boys enjoy making up stories. First it was that we became so poor we lived with pigs. That's why I smelled.”
You put air quotations around smelled and Jungkook practically howled with laughter. You tried your best to show no emotion, but could feel the corner of your lips threatening to curl into a smile. 
“He probably said it because you didn’t know how to wash back then and, judging from earlier, I still don’t think you do.”
You moved to playfully shove at his shoulder. A scoff of laughter leaving you even though you told yourself you wouldn’t. Jungkook was waiting for you to make a move and when you did he easily grabbed a hold of you. The feeling of intimacy, just like yesterday in the mud, was swimming back to the surface. 
Your eyes looked up into his with your laughter being met with a wide grin. The way he was looking at you now made you believe in fairytales and left your lips aching to be kissed. 
Before either of you could decide what to do next, the bell for the end of lunch sounded. You could hear it going off all around you, but still the two of you stayed holding each other. Your bodies close enough that if he wanted to make a move all Jungkook needed was to lean down. To say your heart dropped a little when he moved away was an understatement. 
You focused on getting up from the grass. Your hands patting down your uniform as you struggle to find something not so awkward to say. You wanted to sound confident. You wanted to sound like you weren’t affected by him at all. 
“Well, I’ll see you around.”
God, you sounded awkward. You turned to start heading to your next period. You closed your eyes tight and mouthed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You’d gotten a few feet away when you heard him call to you. 
You turned to look back at him and found him still standing under the tree. His hands in his pockets and his eyes solely on you. 
“Would you let me walk you home?”
Did he really have to ask? You’d let him walk you to the edge of a volcano. You didn’t say that, however. You wanted to play it cool, but on the inside you were screaming. 
“I’d like that.”
When you turned back around to make your way to class, the memory of how his face had brightened at your reply, stayed with you. You couldn’t wait for the day to end. 
_________
True to his word Jungkook waited for you after school. You couldn’t help looking for him over the countless shoulders as you walked with the sea of students towards the entrance. The hole in the pit of your stomach opened back up from the underlying dreadful thought. That he wouldn't show up. You’d be left standing there waiting for him forever. But Jungkook continued to prove your pessimism wrong. 
The closer you got to the school’s gate, you were able to spot him instantly. He was leaning coolly against the gate. His bag at his feet and his cane positioned strategically out of view. If anyone just casually walked up, they would’ve never been able to tell he’d needed one. Maybe that was why he’d done it. 
He looked to be searching for someone in every face that passed him. It came to an end the minute his roaming eyes found you. No longer did he appear cool and composed. His body became animated with what you could only explain as a giddiness at your oncoming presence.
By the time you reached him, Jungkook was wearing his backpack on his shoulder and his cane in his hand. He was standing and waiting for you. The happiness at being next to you was intoxicating and you could only hope you looked the same. 
“It felt like I was waiting forever,” he admitted. 
The two of you started in sync out the gate and turned left onto the main road.
“It felt like an eternity just to get to you. I have Mrs. Chun’s chemistry class for the last period. The classroom is pretty far.”
“Mhm, like on a planet far far away.”
Your eyes rolled up to look at him. The affection you found in the warmth of his eyes was startling, but not a surprise. 
Your mom used to tell you to always be careful with smiling. It caused laugh lines. It helped make crows feet. That smiling was a woman’s secret enemy she never knew about when it came to aging. She told you over and over to be careful who or what you wasted smiles on. Smiling up at him now, Jungkook was definitely worth it just to see him respond with his own. 
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only, like, one planet away.” 
A soft hush of laughter left him as he looked away. His gaze roaming around the street signs and their multiple names before looking back at you. 
“Are we going the right way to your place? I just realized I never even asked for your address.”
“Does it matter? I mean, with your leg and all.” You hated yourself for spoiling the moment by bringing it up. You knew it was a touchy subject when it came to his leg for Jungkook. So you weren’t surprised to see that spark of warmth fade ever so slightly from his face. His smile wilted at the edges of his lips before it all but disappeared. “You know I’m sorry I said anything. I shouldn’t have. I mean obviously you know yourself and your limits. You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t able to do it.”
You were rambling. You were fidgeting and waving your arms around while you talked, because why not? You were doing everything else besides hyperventilating at this point. All you knew was that you felt like a jerk for even bringing it up. When all you wanted was to know he was okay. 
You were so lost in the space inside your head and worrying that you didn’t notice him laughing at you. You were mid-arm swing. Inhaling for another round of mouth babble to start asking for forgiveness when he waved for you to stop. A finger tip landing on your lips to quiet the words in your throat by shocking you into silence.
“You really don’t have to apologize so much, Y/N. It’s alright. I understand why you would ask.”
You were tempted to lick his finger away, but it felt too intimate. But so was a finger on the lips. Before you could decide your next move from your internal dilemma, Jungkook solved it for you. His finger detaching from your lips as quickly as it’d come.
“No, you don’t. I’m just worried about you. I know I should trust you to know yourself better, but-“ you did an over exaggerated shrug as you finished: “I’m a worrier.” 
“I’m flattered, I have you to worry over me.”
You knew he was teasing you and you couldn’t have been happier. You preferred it to making him sad. Plus, he was back to looking at you like you controlled the stars and oh, what a wonderful look it was.
“You should be. I’ve only got so much extra space up here.”
You tapped your head for added effect and were rewarded with a soft laugh that was followed up by a smile. God, you could get used to this. 
“I guess I need to work harder to take up more space.”
“Please, no. Let’s not do that. I need my sanity.”
You couldn’t believe you were doing so well at flirting. Usually, your sarcasm won out and you resorted to awkward winking, but this was definitely an improvement. 
“I’m not sure you have much of that left either,” he joked. 
You tried to hide your laughter with a scoff. You knew you were failing miserably at being offended. Your mouth fighting too hard to ward off a smile as you playfully bumped your shoulder into his arm. Jungkook was ready for you with his cane digging into the sidewalk to give him extra stability. 
“Ya, if I do finally go crazy it’ll be your fault, specifically.” 
“I think you’d have a hard time proving that in court. My counter argument would be pretty persuasive.” 
You looked at him in shock. 
“Court? Wow...that escalated quickly.”
Jungkook nodded his reply. He stopped in front of a bookstore and pointed at a manga in the window. You weren’t too familiar with the title, but it's a cover you’d seen plenty of. 
“It would happen as quickly as an infection from a zombie’s bite. It would seem all slow until suddenly you jumped up and tried to eat me.” 
You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face as you glanced at him and back down to the manga. A part of you wondering if it was one he’d read before or just wanted to use to make his point. 
“Question: why are we together during a zombie outbreak?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I’ll be walking you home. I’ll try and save you and while feeling all heroic about it, I won’t even realize you’d been bitten until it’s too late.”
The two of you moved away from the bookstore window and began to walk back down the sidewalk. Your mind trying to dissect what he was trying to say, but all it left you with was imagining a zombie version of you trying to take a bite out of him. 
“You must watch too much Walking Dead.”
“It’s a good show,” he shrugged. 
“Did you know that there’s actually a fungus out there that’s sort of like a zombie infection. It’s called Ophiocordyceps. It basically infects the host and within nine days of infection it takes control of the host's body movements.”
You were still walking and looking around while you spoke. Your fingers running gently over a row of gardenia’s that were planted in carefully placed pots in front of someone’s home. You were aware Jungkook had left your side by the sudden coldness of his absence. You turned to look for him and found him standing a foot away from you. A mixture of astonishment and amusement etched on his face. 
“Why do you know something like that? Actually, how do you know something like that?”
His eyes were dancing with curiosity as he moved to fall back into step beside you. 
“Let’s just say I like to read. I like strange things and facts. And science is full of both facts and strange things.”
With each small statement you held up a finger. When you ended on the third and final small fact about yourself, you wiggled all three fingers at him. The motion earned you a giant smile that only seemed to grow wider as his head shook slightly back and forth. 
“You are the strangest girl.”
“How am I strange?”
“You just told me about a body snatching fungus,” he chuckled. “What other girl is going to do that?”
Jungkook had a point. A very strong point. For all your new found confidence when it came to him, you couldn’t keep the heat from rushing to your face. Or the back of your hands from trying to hide it. 
“I would tell you to stop being embarrassed but it’s cute when you blush.” 
The two of you came to a complete stop at the crosswalk. The red light blinking to tell you two it wasn’t safe to cross. It felt like a weird metaphor for this moment in your life. 
Stop! Do not keep staring back at him as if he strung every star in the sky. Stop! Don’t continue to entertain the thought that he looked like he wanted to kiss you or that you desperately wanted to kiss him back. Stop! Even though you already knew it was too late. 
You had plans. It’d all been strategically mapped out in your head until you could read it forwards and backwards to yourself. Do your best to graduate high enough in the percentage range to get into a decent college. Get a degree for a job, it didn’t matter what it was, that made enough money to help your parents. For all your careful planning, none of it had included him and yet, the universe had you both standing at a stoplight looking at each other like there couldn’t be any other reality where you weren’t meant to end up right here. Standing at this exact light and looking at one another like no one else existed. 
Luckily, the light changed signaling for you to begin to cross. The mass of bodies that had accumulated behind you began to push you both forward and, reluctantly, broke your gaze free from him. Your brain was scrambling to pick up a conversation you weren’t sure how to resurrect. Your mind too busy daydreaming all the scenarios you would’ve taken in different realities if you were braver. Clearing your throat, you did your best to wipe the thought clean and focus on your current reality.
“If it makes you feel better,” you started your body turning to consider him as you spoke, “the study was only ever done on the tropical ants that resided in the forest. The actual effects and what it could do to humans has never been studied. Yet. But I’m willing to bet it would take longer than nine days for it to take hold of a grown adult's nervous system and larger batches.”
He was looking at you in inspired mock horror. You weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Or if your unusual fact telling about zombie fungus had completely killed the mood. You got your answer in an excited hush of, “Holy shit it’s like you’re writing your own super villain backstory.” 
A smile erupted on your face as you playfully rolled your eyes away from him. It was hard to miss the mischievous glint in his eyes or the way his whole face still swam with the playfulness that lurked underneath his teasing. Jungkook was so alive. A force that required you to hang on or else you would get swept up in him without even realizing it’d happen. 
You wondered if this is what falling in love felt like. 
“I would make a terrible villain. I’m too clumsy,” you stated. Your weak attempt at downplaying yourself being met with a stern look. 
“How clumsy are we talking?”
“Hmm, I would say, ‘Kronk giving the llama potion to Kuzco,’ kind of clumsy.”
A hiss of air whistled between Jungkook’s teeth. A mock look of worry on his face as his hands moved to reposition his bag. 
“Can we call that clumsy, though?”
“What else would it be?” You asked. 
You could feel the lines grouping together in your forehead just trying to figure out what he was getting at. Jungkook didn’t seem to be in any rush to answer you. The two of you walking a few feet before he must have decided you’d waited long enough for him to reply. 
“I always thought Kronk was stupid throughout the whole movie, but really, he was just a good person. He’s a good guy tasked to do a bad thing and he just wants to make people happy. Even if it means doing the wrong thing.”
You wanted to ask if maybe he was talking more about himself than The Emperor’s New Groove at this point. He faced forward with his brow creased in deep thought and whatever it was that held his thoughts didn’t appear to be anything good. 
“Or,” you started, voice light enough to drag him out of his head, “it’s just a kids movie.”
Sure, Jungkook was looking at you, but he didn’t seem to actually see you. Somewhere inside his head, he was reenacting or seeing something that ate up all the sunshine that lived in his bones. It felt silly to feel a sense of panic about something that might not even be true. And yet, you couldn’t stop the awful thought that sadness was trying to make a home inside his soul. 
Without giving it another thought you reached up and pretended to wipe away a pretend rogue eyelash from his cheek. The suddenness of your fingers brushing on his skin jolted him from wherever his thoughts had held him hostage and back into the present. His eyes darted around your face and his own hand came up to gently take yours. 
“Sorry.” Your words came out breathy as you struggled not to focus on how he was practically holding your hand. “There was an eyelash. The wind must have blown it away.”
The earlier sadness that’d hollowed out his eyes was gone. What replaced it was one of knowing you weren’t telling the truth. His head tilted slightly down to inspect your empty finger of the proof you knew your words didn’t have whose eyes sparked with his usual teasing and something else. Something that left a different kind of heat flooding your cheeks. 
“I’m sure there was.”
Reluctantly, you removed your hand from his and continued to walk. It only took him a couple seconds to fall effortlessly into step beside you making you wonder if his leg was as injured as it seemed. 
A warm silence swelled around you as you continued to walk. A comfortable pace setting between you as he looked in the windows of every store you passed in between the changing streets. He never once asked if you were getting close to your home or how much farther it might be. It was like the moment on the back of the bus. The two of you enjoyed that the other was there without ever feeling the need to say it.
But you knew it was soon coming to an end. In only a few blocks, you’d be home and your fairytale moment would end. You were struggling on how to break this, more to yourself than Jungkook, when you noticed he pulled a Nikon camera from the side of his bag. He was squinting through the lens and taking photos of something up ahead. Of the landscape or the people and buildings that framed it you weren’t sure. 
He must have sensed your silent question as he snapped a few more quick photos before turning to acknowledge you. 
“Y/N, I have a serious question for you.”
It was hard to keep the amusement off your face as you both came to a stop. The place felt random, but it was anything but that to Jungkook. Whatever he saw in this space you both inhabited must have felt like magic to him. 
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Do you think we have enough time for me to take some photos?”
It felt like such an odd request. Why should anyone have to ask to do something that they loved? Jungkook didn’t fully say he loved doing it, but no one spent that much money on a nice camera if it wasn’t something they enjoyed doing. The look on his face was just an added bonus of proving your answer meant something. One that made you wonder why he felt like he needed your permission at all. And then it hit you: he wanted to stay in your company while he did it. 
You considered teasing him, but he looked too vulnerable standing there. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. A pleading in his eyes that reminded you of a child asking a mother to go on just one more ride before they were forced to go home. You considered giving him the bad news that you had more than homework to do when you arrived home. But that could come another day. On this day, with him, you could spare an hour just to make him happy.
Instead of coming right out and letting him know you’d made up your mind, you decided to play coy. A soft, “Hmm,” hummed around you as you looked everywhere but him. Your index finger tapping on your lips for dramatic flare.
"Ok," You shrugged. "I think I have some free time I could spare."
His eyes squinted in question as you moved to stand in front of him. The movement simply to let a couple go by in peace, but somehow placed you closer in front of him. Jungkook’s gaze was roaming your face to find an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked. 
“You planned on saying yes this whole time, didn’t you. You were just trying to make me suffer waiting for you to answer.”
You gasped in pretend shock and did your best not to smile at his accusations. By the growing smile on his face you knew you were failing miserably. 
“Me?! I would never do such a thing.”
“You’re secretly a sadist!”
Jungkook’s smile only widened as a scoff of disbelief passed from your lips. Your own smile grew to match his own when his hands lifted up his camera. Seconds later the sound of the shutter clicked and you felt your soul leave your body. The earlier playfulness was swiftly swept in your own dark cloud and the idea you probably looked hideous in that photo. 
“Oh god, Jungkook delete it,” you pleaded. 
Your hands were reaching out to grab tightly at this shirt. Your fingers curled in the white fabric until there was a small chance you could tear holes. The camera in question was being held far from your reach. His hand easily held it above his shoulder as he used one hand to steady you against him. You’d invaded his space without even realizing, but you had no time to be embarrassed. Not when he had a picture of you forever saved on that camera. 
“Why would I delete it?”
He was his usual amused self you could tell, but he wasn’t egging you on. His question was out of curiosity. His own eyes brimming with it as you considered keeping one hand tightly wound in his shirt and the other to jump up and reach for the camera. 
“Because Jungkook I’m not cute. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t ruin the camera.”
All his earlier playfulness drained from his face and what was left made you instantly feel like you were about to be scolded. His hand that had firmly planted itself on your hip was achingly apparent now as his fingers gripped you closer to him. Your own awareness at how close you actually were to his chest made your lips feel dry. Your tongue flicked out to wet them and god, it took everything in you not to focus on the fact his eyes had followed the movement. 
“Y/N, why would you say that? You shouldn’t let anyone talk down about you, and you shouldn’t do it to yourself either. You’re beautiful.”
He spoke like it was a fact. A statement that not just the two of you knew, but the universe did too. And what were you supposed to say back? While you were held captive to the thought he was still looking from you to your lips. The determination for you to understand his words and believe them setting soft lines in his face. You tried to keep looking at him, but under his watchful gaze you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting. Your eyes moved down the line of his body until it landed on the tops of your shoes. 
You weren’t sure what to say back. Thank you didn’t fit here. It didn’t feel like a moment where he was trying to boost your confidence the way a friend did. This felt more like someone who noticed something in you while you hadn’t been looking. 
So instead of saying anything remotely clever back you began to dislodge yourself from him. Your hands releasing their hold on his shirt and forcing his hand off of your hip. Standing there with only inches between you, your body was achingly aware that his hand was gone. It’s weight leaving a burning of longing to have it back forced your hands into your pockets and your body turning away from him. You waited for him to start moving back down the road. The motion forced him to either join you or stay where he was. 
“We should get going before we run out of time.”
You hated yourself for dismissing him. For not being bolder like you’d promised yourself earlier in the day. It would’ve been the perfect time to thank him. To tell him how you were pretty sure there wasn’t a soul on earth more attractive than him, but that what made him beautiful is what he refused to let people see. The soft tone of his voice still singing along to the songs on the back of the bus had ended up being an unspoken lullaby when you’d gone to sleep. 
A part of you considered turning on your heel and telling him this. To tell him that you saw him; actually saw him for who he was and not who he felt like he needed to be. But you just kept moving forward and weren’t surprised when Jungkook found a steady rhythm back beside you. 
The both of you stayed quiet. This time it felt more forced than the easiness of earlier. Like the two of you had so many missed starts at creating a conversation that neither of you could understand why it ended.
You watched him as he focused on the area around him. His camera training on an old couple who sat waiting for the next bus. The husband had clutched his wife’s arm close to his side. In his hands he was peeling what appeared to be an orange and with each freshly peeled slice, he gave one to her and one to himself. No one knew what they were conversing about, but it didn’t matter. To them, they were the only two people there. The wholesomeness of the moment made you wonder what they were like back in their youth. 
You listened to the flutter of the shutter click repeatedly. His hand twisting on the lens to bring it in and out of focus, while he himself remained deadly focused on capturing their moment in time. You were curious how the photos would turn out in the end and wished there was a way to show them how their love translated on film. 
You were in the middle of watching Jungkook turn his attention to a couple birds inside a cherry blossom when he spoke.
“Thank you for agreeing to walk with me while I do this.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook.”
A sad smile curled his lips as he dropped his camera down in front of him. His thumb skimmed over the buttons to quickly go through what he’d previously taken. The last one he landed on made his entire face light up and you felt a pang of jealousy at what it could be. How you wish he would look at you like that. 
“Maybe, but I feel like I do. Ever since my accident, my appa hasn’t been able to force me into things. For once, I get to just do what I want. Sucks it only had to cost me a friend and a leg to get some freedom.”
Your feet had carried you to the next stop sign. The sudden halt in moving forced you to look at him, really look at Jungkook, like you’d never seen him before. 
He wasn’t looking at you now. His ears a screaming red while his fingers danced over every part of the camera. His eyes roaming over its edges and flicking too fast through pictures to actually even be looking at them. For the first time since you’d met him Jungkook was scared to look at you. Scared for what you might see if you did. 
Looking at him now, you couldn’t have been happier to indulge him. You’d indulge him for the rest of your life if he’d let you. 
“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”
You mentally smacked yourself at your choice of words. Jungkook, however, was backing to his beaming self as he finally glanced in your direction. His eyeing ate up your embarrassment as it was your turn to face forward. Your feet hopping in place as you waited for the light to flash it was okay to walk. 
“I’m supposed to be at physical therapy right now.”
“Wait, what?”
The light was flickering finally for you to all move. Your feet moved to carry you forward unintentionally, just to keep with the flow of traffic, as Jungkook gave you a small shrug for an answer. 
“Did you say you were supposed to be at physical therapy?”
Another shrug and another long pause with no answer. It seemed he had been waiting for you to round the corner onto a quieter pedestrian free street before he replied, “After school. I have appointments almost everyday and I never go.” 
“But why? It’s meant to help you get better, isn’t it?”
“Get better to do what, exactly?” He huffed. Jungkook’s entire body took on a broodier tone. His cane practically dug small holes with each press into the pavement. “Who even says that I can get better?”
“Well, doctors for one,” you pointed out. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have signed you up for it if they didn’t believe you could get better.” 
“If I was going to get better it would’ve happened already.”
It felt like walking on eggshells. This side of Jungkook was the boy you’d met on his first day of class. His guarded demeanor up on high alert, as he kept his gaze stoically forward and his chin held high. 
“You’re not an idiot, Jungkook. You know injuries take time to heal from. It doesn't just magically happen overnight.”
“Who says that I want to get better?”
The coldness in his words forced your legs to stop working. Your feet were unable to move as he continued to push on ahead of you. His own movements became slower now as the long walk was beginning to take its toll on his leg. He knew you weren’t beside him anymore and still he tried to keep pushing forward, before eventually he had no other choice but to turn around. 
The look on his face was as defiant as ever. Underneath that defiance was a sadness so raw you only wanted to reach out and hold him. If just to remind him that he was seen and that his pain mattered.
That’s when the realization hit you.
“Unless you feel like you deserve this.”
The stone façade he’d worked so hard to create in the past few minutes began to chip. His eyes being the first to show by the soft uprising of tears that you were right. Somewhere deep inside Jungkook believed that he deserved what happened to him. That this was punishment for losing a friend at his own hands, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with. 
The tears that threatened to spill never did, but they were there. They floated dangerously at the surface of Jungkook’s control and he refused to let go. The rawness of his pain hit you and all you wanted was to help ease it. You weren’t sure if he would accept any kind of affection, even in a small hug. So your only option was to move closer to him. As close as he would allow without pushing you away. 
With each step you could see his jaw clenching tighter; pulsing like he was fighting from saying something wicked to send you skirting back. He was just as afraid of what you were about to do as you were at being the one to do it. 
When the tips of your shoes nudged against his you drew your eyes up until they landed on his. A spark of something; fear or uncertainty, flashed in his eyes. Was he expecting you to be cruel? To yell at him to stop being a child and to grow up? How much had he already heard those words shouted by adults? How long had he been standing there like this, in a world full of grief, and no one there to pull him out to breathe before the next wave suffocated him once more. 
You weren’t sure if it was you or if what you said would matter, but it was important he heard it. It was important he knew that this was okay too. 
“You got to forgive yourself sometime, Jungkook.”
The words themselves were simple. Simple and spoken between you as if there was a secret meant only for the two of you to hear. All you really wanted was for him to feel the sincerity of your words for him to know it was okay. Okay to feel sad, unsure, and helpless at times when all the world felt against you. It was okay to not know your first steps and okay to take those first steps when you were ready. Eventually, we needed to forgive, if only to give ourselves the chance to heal and move on. 
His gaze was still misty with unshed tears and still they refused to fall. The pain and defiance that had turned his features harsh began to soften. All that hardness he struggled to keep himself in and others out was beginning to fade and the only thing left was him. All that sunshine that you’d seen lived in his smile and echoed in his laughter that crinkled in the corners of his eyes. The way he cared for others and making them feel cared for. The softness of his singing and the way he eagerly filmed people at their most vulnerable: at their most beautiful. 
It was at this moment you felt your universe shift and tip until it realigned itself. With your fingers back to holding the edges of his shirt it took everything in you not to close those final inches and hug him. Jungkook closed that distance for you instead. 
His lips crashing down on your cheeks causing a soft squeak of surprise to push free from your lips. A chuckle came as he came back into view and your mind struggled to comprehend what happened. 
It wasn’t a kiss on the lips but…
“Did you just kiss my cheek?”
Your hand was up to the aforementioned spot. A wicked smile wiping away all of his sadness until you weren’t sure if it had been real at all or if you’d imagined it. 
“I could kiss your lips if you’d like that instead.” 
If your cheeks could get any hotter you could’ve fried food on them. You felt a surge of disappointment when Jungkook took a reluctant step back from you as his eyes dropped to check the time on his phone.
“As much as I hate to say this: I have to go.”
“All of the sudden you have to go,” you huffed. 
Your words felt brave, but inside your heart was thundering wildly against your chest. 
“I could stay if you want?”
Smoother than expected, Jungkook slid his way back to you. His chest bumping against you making you lose your footing just enough that it forced you to grab on to his shirt. Jungkook’s own hand had moved behind your back to steady you and bring you closer to him all at once. 
You playfully smacked his chest and earned a soft laugh from him. Unfortunately, you found yourself peeling away from him. Your hands grasping at the strap of your bag to keep them from reaching back out for him. 
“Not a chance.”
Your reply earned a playful pout from him as he started walking backwards away from you. 
“I’ll remember that, Y/N!”
You rolled your eyes and turned around to start walking the rest of the way home. You didn’t get more than a few feet before he called back to you. Your eyes found him instantly in a crowd of people that continued to pass in front of him.
“I forgot to ask: what’s your number!”
He held up a pen expecting you to come back to him and write it down presumably on his arm or hand. You didn’t see any paper and could only assume. You knew it was all just a ploy to get you to come to him. The knowledge evident by the wicked grin on his face. 
“You’re a math wiz, right?” Jungkook was perplexed for a second before you started reciting your number as loud as you were willing to shout it. The wind blew it away as he no doubt struggled to listen. 
“Wow! What a way to play dirty.”
“If it’s meant to be you’ll figure it out.”
And maybe that was true. Maybe you both had a chance to write your own love story like from the movies and shows you used to watch with your mom. Like Rose and Jack from Titanic or Ross and Rachel...okay...maybe more like Chandler and Monica. Or maybe you were an idiot and should’ve just gone and wrote it down. It was too late now as he was already on the other side of the street. 
You were ready to walk the rest of the way kicking yourself for being so lame when you heard him call your name again. When you turned you didn’t expect him to be trotting across the road. You didn’t expect him to stop in front of you and give you another quick kiss on the cheek, this one gentler than before, with every fiber of your body remembering just how soft his lips felt. 
“I could fall in love with you, ya know.”
You watched as in the same breath he hopped back across the street and couldn’t help but think you already had. 
————-
Later that night you were snuggled up inside the sheets of your bed. The only thing sticking out was the current book you were reading and the top of your head. 
You hadn’t heard from Jungkook the rest of the day. Your heart hammered inside your chest every time your phone chimed with a new message only to deflate when you realized it wasn’t him. You loved your friends and all, but they weren’t who you’d been looking forward to all evening. 
Maybe you should’ve just gone to him and written down your number. Like a normal human being would’ve done. You just had to be clever and yell it out like a lunatic. For all you knew, you could end up with a random stranger texting you at all hours. 
Your current book that you were supposed to be reading but couldn’t really read because you couldn’t focus was now face planted onto your nose. A soft groan echoing into its pages as you fought not to close it and throw it somewhere in your room. You were a hundred percent sure you’d read the same sentence a few dozen times at this point. 
In the morning, you decided, you most definitely were just going to write it down. Like a sane person would’ve done. You closed your book and placed it down beside you. Your eyes roaming up to stare at your ceiling and wondering if you were ever actually going to go to sleep when your phone chimed off. 
You weren’t in any hurry to look. It could just be your parents from the restaurant making sure you were in bed. It could be one of your friends asking about making plans this weekend. It was probably still everyone but Jungkook and yet…
Your curiosity got the better of you. You shuffled inside your comforter, reached an arm out to grab your phone from the nightstand, and quickly pulled it back inside. You waited for your facial ID to unlock the screen to see who or what you’d received. Your own mind hyping up the suspense of the moment until it read over a reminder text from your dad about your chores for the upcoming weekends. 
You hated you’d let yourself have even a glimmer of hope. It was official. You’d ruined your chances when it came to giving out your number. A groan was creeping its way up your throat as you quickly sent back a text. You knew your chores took over almost every weekend. Even when you’d made plans with friends, you’d ended up never going. 
As soon as you’d hit send you were rolling over to put your phone back on your nightstand. The shrill sound of pinging messages stopped you cold. There was no way your dad had learned to text back that fast. You laid yourself flat back against the mattress and brought the phone to hover above your face. 
Y/N?
Is this the right number finally? 
Hello?!!
If this is the wrong person, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not crazy. Just looking for a girl. 
Your heart leapt into your throat. It was beating so hard you were scared it would burst from your chest. Your eyes were still skimming over the line of text messages when another one sounded. You were so caught up in reading the next line you weren’t aware your clammy fingers had let the phone slip and it crash landed down on your face. 
“Ooow!”
One hand scrambled to pick it back up off your face, while the other massaged the now swelling brim of your nose. 
How many people have you texted before me?
There wasn’t a need to send a hi. To give him a coy response to continue to tease him or make him believe he’d gotten it wrong again. Your curiosity at the desperate way he seemed to have been looking for you was endearing. The thought that he’d spent so much time sending out random messages for a response, no matter how crazy he looked, felt silly but cute too. 
Jungkook thought you were worth the trouble. 
OH MY GOD IS IT REALLY YOU?! And maybe like... seventeen. 
You snuggled deeper into your comforter as a soft giggle joined the growing smile across your face. 
I’m sorry I should have just wrote it down when you offered the pen lol
It definitely would’ve made it a lot easier.
You’d asked yourself that question all evening while you’d waited for him. You bit your lips as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Unsure if you should take the chance and tell him. 
“Screw it,” you whispered as you typed. 
Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting forever. 
Well, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. This girl thought it was a good idea to shout random numbers at me 😅😂.
Your head was shaking as you tried to figure out something witty to say. You couldn’t believe you were here. Inside your comforter cave smiling at your phone like a lunatic and wondering if maybe Jungkook was doing the same. Or what was he even doing? You were getting ready to type out that exact question when your phone pinged to life. 
So, ugh, on to more important matters. It read. I was thinking about your love of random facts and I think I got one for you. 
Ooooooo kekeke this should be good 
Do you want to know it or not? 
Okay okay! Lol please tell me Kookie
You could practically feel him screaming through your phone as a sideways glance emoji was sent back in a long lined response. You wondered if you’d completely ruined his fact telling when your phone went off. 
I found this article that said the chances of finding your soulmate out of 500,000,000 people was impossible. But, if you just place it to where you are, to your age group, and timing it narrows it down to a 1 in 10,000 chance. What I’m trying to get at is...I think your my 1 in 10,000
You read the message on repeat. Over and over until you were sure you’d practically memorized it front and back. You wanted to ask him for his source material. Where such an article could exist. None of that really mattered to you and how could it? 
You must have spaced out because you never sent him a reply. Your thoughts were still spinning in a world all their own as you wondered if he was sitting at his desk doing homework or lying in bed. If he was inside or outside and what had made him so brave to send that message: believing you felt the same. 
The vibration of the phone brought you back down to earth. You expected to see question marks or another line of, “Hello?” To have left him on read. Instead, the only thing that greeted you was a simple, Goodnight, Y/N. 
This time there was no hesitation from you. 
Goodnight, Jungkook
See you in the morning ?
His text felt so hopeful. A silent undertone that if you said no there was a chance you’d break him. You bit your lip as you thought about what this meant. The beginning of small promises that eventually grew into bigger ones. 
I’ll meet you at the gate
You both finished up with another round of good night’s that felt like the embarrassing texting equivalent of “no you hang up! No you!” And placed your phone back on your night stand. It took forever for the sandman to finally claim you. Your dreams consisting of the magic of being Jungkook’s 1 in 10,000. 
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mintymiknow · 3 years
Text
Trust Fall - ch. 13 | Lee Minho
summary | character profiles | masterlist
Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader
Summary: You and Minho end up on one more task, and it leads you to confronting a certain someone. Events also lead to Minho finally opening up and telling you about the woman from his past.
Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action
Word count: Approx. 9.2k
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Warnings for this chapter: Blood and injuries due to genre-typical fight scenes, showering together (nothing nsfw happens; they literally just take a bath lol)
A/N: Longest chapter I’ve written so far hahaha but I do hope you like it! We’re nearing the peak of this story as well as the end, so I hope this chapter is a nice breather of sorts. I’m kind of disappointed with the confrontation, but I did my best haha! Those are so hard to write. Enjoy! If you have any questions or comments, hit me up!
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A day after the events with Minho, you gathered Seungmin and Jisung in the lab, having mustered the courage and conviction to finally explain to them what happened in SKZ’s lab years ago. You told them the same story as you told Minho, hoping it would shed some light on everything, allowing the three of you to work closely together and understand how and why everything was happening.
There were a mix of gasps and shocked expressions, faces contorting into disgust or anger, and even words of encouragement and apologies from the two males. Thanking them for listening and understanding, they also do the same.
“I didn’t know that that was the entire story.” Jisung mulls it over, “The heads of SKZ wanted it to remain a secret for the sake of the agents’ morale and avoidance of chaos.”
Seungmin releases a sigh, “I was quite skeptical of it all since I believed we all had the right to know, but I guess there was a reason. Thank you for telling us, y/n. What happened back then was terrible. We’re sorry we weren’t more aware.”
“No, don’t say that.” you start, “I would have hated for the two of you to get involved as well.”
Jisung chuckles as he offers a small smile, “Well, to make it up for all those times, we should really focus on getting the anti-serum completed.”
Seungmin nods, walking over to one of the lab tables, “We were able to extract Cle’s serum from the dead agent’s body. We can use these for our tests and compare it to the formula y/n wrote down in her files.”
“We’ll need to test the anti-serum on all the Cle prototypes we have to really guarantee it works for everything.” Jisung adds, “We never really know which prototype Cle is going to make use of in the end.”
You nod your head and gather some items on the table and begin to work, “Let’s get to work.”
For the next few hours, the three of you work non-stop on running tests and conducting experiments with various chemical formulas. A lot of mixing and pouring is done, and a lot of vials and beakers have been used in the process. There’s a variety of colored mixtures here and there, a few miniscule explosions and sizzling sounds echoing in the room too. The three of you mix chemicals, substances, acids and even solid materials into various formulas in hopes to come up with the “perfect” solution; of course, it can’t all happen in one day despite you wanting it to.
The three of you started working at 6:30 in the morning, and by the time you’ve decided to take a break after working hours straight, it was already 5:00pm. Jisung left for a few minutes to get some food, returning shortly after with a plastic bag of packed meals and three cups of take-out coffee. You and Seungmin clean the area before all three of you exit the room and head for the lab lounge room.
There, Jisung distributes the food and drinks before plopping down on a beanbag and releasing a sigh, “I can’t recall the last time I was that productive.”
Seungmin chuckles, “We’re always productive in the lab, what are you talking about?”
“I think it’s because we worked hours straight without breaks.” you point out with a small smile before sipping your coffee, “And it’s just the three of us working, so that means we did more workload each.”
“True.” Jisung laughs, “Speaking of which...who else knows about all...this?”
You hum, “Minho. I told him yesterday, but I assume he’s already told Chan some of it.”
“Yeah, very Minho-like. He and Chan have always been close-knit.” Seungmin explains, “Chan was recruited into SKZ ahead, and he was Minho’s superior for about a year, from what I remember.”
“Mhmm. Chan was his superior, but after one year of doing missions almost perfectly, Chan appealed with Jung to have Minho ‘promoted’. They’re now the same rank, per se, but Minho still treats Chan and acts as if he’s his superior.” Jisung pipes in, shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth after speaking.
“Were they always in the same team?” you ask.
Seungmin tilts his head, “Not permanently. Changbin also came into the picture, and they were the main trio. Although...back then, Changbin was usually on missions with Jeongin and Hyunjin. Minho was with Chan and a woman named Jiyeon.”
You hum, nodding your head and swallowing your food. Afterwards, you speak again, “Wooyoung from a cafe did mention a Jiyeon as well. Minho didn’t look too...happy. But I didn’t ask.”
“Ah, so you met Wooyoung too! I love that guy!” Jisung chuckles before his bright smile fades into something more melancholic, “And Minho probably reacted that way because she - ”
“She left SKZ as well.”
The three of you snap your attention to the male leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and facial expression blank. You offer him a small smile, and the dull color in his face warms with color, a small smile on his lips as well. Jisung waves at his friend before chuckling sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”
Minho uncrosses his arms and shrugs it off with a smile, “It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting any of you - besides Chan and I - would remember her.”
Seungmin shakes his head, “I was never close to her though. It was always just you, Chan, and Changbin with her. Sometimes Hyunjin.”
“Yeah? Well, Jiyeon never liked big groups of friends.” Minho releases a sigh, “And she never really stepped foot in the lab since she was busy running missions here and there. She loved the adrenaline rush.”
You feel your cheeks flushing - you’re not sure if it’s jealousy, embarrassment or awkwardness - maybe a mix of everything. But when Minho takes a seat next to you by the lounge table, putting an arm around the backrest of your seat, you’re pretty sure your flushed cheeks are a result of his doing. Seungmin and Jisung aren’t blind as they throw each other knowing looks.
Great, your cheeks are as red as the straw of your coffee.
Clearing your throat, you turn to look at Minho despite the fact that your face is still flushed. “So, what brings you here?” you ask in an attempt to divert attention away from you.
Luckily, Jisung and Seungmin give it up and look at Minho expectantly as well. “I have more intel for you all.” Minho replies, “From Busan.”
“Busan?” Seungmin inquires, “Did your team infiltrate a base or facility there?”
Minho nods, “Yes, though I assume the three of you would have an idea of what we found already.”
Jisung melts further into the beanbag he was sitting on, sipping on his coffee, “Busan’s lab facilities are known for holding acids, specifically hydrochloric, nitric, and perchloric acid.”
“In other words, some substances that could be traced in Cle’s serum.” you finish.
Minho’s lips curl into a small smirk, “Exactly. The team has brought the findings in and are currently transporting them to one of the lab rooms right now. How’s your work going?”
Jisung answers first, “We’ve attempted to make various formulas for an anti-serum and have tried them on various prototypes, but since we only have a limited number of Cle prototypes, we have to practice discretion to make sure we don’t run out of it before we actually get to test the perfect solution on it.”
“I hope the findings from Busan include more prototypes?” Seungmin playfully chuckles.
Minho smiles in response, an apologetic look on his face, “Unfortunately, none. Though we did find our next target area in Gangwon. Cle’s Gangwon facility is just a small clinic during the day, but through connections and bribes, the owner of that clinic allows Cle to use it for secret research at night. So, no one really suspects it because it literally just looks like a neighborhood clinic.”
Seungmin mutters under his breath, “Using a medical facade as cover...disappointing.”
Minho gives him a small smile before speaking, “Well, I’m leaving for Gangwon in a bit. Hopefully, I get some prototype serums for you guys.”
“I’ll go with you.” you say out of the blue, surprising both Jisung and Minho; Seungmin just hums in curiosity.
Minho puts a hand on your head to smooth your hair, “I appreciate the company, but I told you that you three should focus on lab work.”
You gently remove his hand from your head, lowering it so that you could envelope it with both your hands under the table. You use both your thumbs to brush gentle strokes on the back of the agent’s hand. Hopefully, neither of the two younger males notice the gesture. You aren’t ready for their teasing...yet.
“I know,” you start to speak, “but the three of us are currently waiting for the results of one experiment because we attempted to recreate Cle’s most recent prototype.”
“It’s going to take at least half a day for the formula to fully settle.” Jisung points out, “While waiting, I’m going to run tests on the stuff you guys brought back from Busan.”
“I’m going to do more research in the data archives.” Seungmin nods.
You look up at Minho, tilting your head, “If that Gangwon facility does have their prototypes, I’d like to take a look at them ASAP. I might also find useful files there.”
With a deep sigh, Minho closes his eyes and nods, “Fine, but we have to be quick, alright? I’m going without a team because intel tells us that the facility isn’t guarded.”
“Why?” Jisung asks.
“Because, like I said, it makes use of the fact that the location is a clinic.” Minho explains again, “With that facade, Cle is able to do research and run tests at night without anyone bothering them at all. Why waste manpower and resources on a location that isn’t meddled with at all?”
“Makes sense.” Jisung notes.
“There’s probably going to be one or two scientists at most, but that’s it. I can take care of that quickly.” Minho turns to you, “But you still have to be careful, alright?”
You nod, “Of course.”
“I want to keep this as lowkey as possible. Hence, me not even bringing a team with me.” Minho says, nodding his head towards the coffee Jisung gave you.
You hum, and without much thought, grab the coffee cup and hold it close to the agent’s lips. Minho slightly shifts to sip from the straw, causing you to stifle a giggle as you look at him fondly. After he sips enough, he playfully looks at you and jokes, “It’s lukewarm coffee. You’re so boring.”
You scoff and hold the coffee away from him, “Excuse me, but this was iced a while ago.”
Minho sticks his tongue out, causing you to playfully swat his face away. Completely forgetting that you had two other friends in the room, Jisung snickers and slaps the beanbag repeatedly, “Are you two officially dating already? Like dating dating? ‘Cause you’re both acting like one real couple right now!”
You and Minho snap your heads to the male who is currently curled up on the floor, clutching his stomach as he laughs. Seungmin looks at him with a “you good bro” kind of face before his expression shifts to that with a sly smirk, “He’s got a point. I am intrigued.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Minho says playfully, a smug smirk on his lips before he pushes his chair out and stands up.
“Boo!” Jisung says from the floor.
Minho playfully rolls his eyes before turning to you, “We aren’t taking any of the agents’ vehicles to Gangwon in order to remain lowkey. We’ll take the bus. Meet me by HQ’s main entrance in 15 minutes.”
“Ok.” you reply, still trying to calm your flustered state from Jisung and Seungmin’s light teasing.
With that, Minho leaves the room, leaving you, Jisung, and Seungmin staring at each other. You slowly grab your coffee in an attempt to quench your drying throat, but before you can take a sip, Jisung’s banter stops you.
“If you sip from that straw, that’s an indirect kiss with Minho.”
“Han Jisung!”
Seungmin jokes along with a straight face, “Do it.”
“Not you too…”
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“Dating isn’t a foreign word to me, y/n.” Minho groans as the bus moves.
Thankfully, there weren’t many people on board, except for you, Minho and maybe around nine or ten people. You cross your arms, furrowing your eyebrows a bit too seriously; Minho thought it was cute, but he doesn’t say it out loud. “I know, but like...have you actually really dated anyone? Do agents have time to do that?” you muse, “Jisung’s question really got me thinking…”
Minho rolls his eyes to feign irritation, but the faint shade of pink on his cheeks says otherwise. “I...have dated before. It was nothing too serious in my opinion. It’s just...yeah. Not worth it.” he says, choosing his words carefully.
“So your flirtatious side did come from somewhere.” you tease.
“Haha, very funny.” Minho smirks, pinching your nose, “And you? Hard to believe someone as pretty as you has never had a relationship.”
“Ha, there’s the flirt in you.” you say in a deadpan manner before shaking your head, “But no, I’ve never dated anyone. I dated my work, unfortunately. My medical and scientific goals were the love of my life.”
“Were?”
You shrug, “Now, I don’t think it’s the same anymore.”
“Hmmm.” Minho hums to himself in thought, leaning back against his seat, “Fascinating.”
A few seconds later, Minho feels a weight fall on his shoulder. He slowly turns, now realizing that you had laid your head on his shoulder, your eyes closed in bliss as soft snores escaped your lips. Minho’s heart sings for joy and melts like chocolate at the sight of it all, and he has to use all his strength to keep himself from sobbing in joy.
“I told you I’d go to Gangwon alone.” he whispers with an amused smirk on his lips.
He presses a chaste kiss on the top of your head, gently nuzzling his nose into your hair while doing so. Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his, scooting ever-so-slightly closer to his side. Minho stifles another chuckle, using his free hand to reposition your head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder before leaning back and relaxing completely.
Gangwon was still one hour away. Perhaps he’d indulge and relish in the way you fit perfectly by his side, giving him the light he’s lost long ago.
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When Minho woke you up an hour later, you both arrived at one of the Gangwon bus stops. From there, you both put on a little act as some random couple simply strolling the city, hand-in-hand and laughing about some stupid joke (funnily enough, Jisung had randomly texted Minho a joke he and Jeongin thought of, so that’s what he used).
Since you and Minho left HQ at a calculated time, you both arrived at the location by night time; that would mean sneaking in would be a piece of cake, especially for Minho.
As you both approach the clinic-like building, Minho notices that the lights are off. “Either they’re out or it’s a trap.” he whispers to you, tugging on your hand to pull you close, “Don’t stay away from me, ok?”
“Ok.” you reply.
With that, Minho does his agent-y stuff, sneaking in through a window that he skillfully opens without a single noise. He slips in first, helping you in afterwards. Proceeding with caution, the two of you slip further inside the clinic, checking the rooms for anything.
There’s a lounge room that’s practically empty, but there are traces of chemical substances littering the floor. You swab the samples and place them in bottles before putting them in a case. Minho scans the room with his sharp eyes and speaks with a quiet voice, “Those look fresh. Perhaps there’s been activity not too long ago?”
“Yeah,” you nod your head, “but judging by the appearance of consistency of these substances, I’d say it was from hours ago...maybe earlier this morning?”
“I don’t see or sense any sign of people right now.” Minho brings a finger to his chin, “Either they worked this morning and left tonight, or they aren’t here yet. Either way, we should hurry. Are you done here?”
“Yeah, let’s go to the next room.”
After searching another two rooms that left you empty-handed, you proceeded to the last door which was locked. Fortunately, Minho had contacted Felix who effortlessly hacked into the system and breached past the lock, allowing you access into the room. You and Minho then enter, beginning to search for anything useful once more.
You find a filing cabinet and sift through its contents, eyes speedily but carefully going through the numerous sheets of paper inside. Minho tinkers with a nearby cabinet that reveals a few bottles of prototype serums when he manages to get it open. “Looks like Seungmin’s going to be happy.” Minho says quietly.
You hum, “Prototypes?”
“A few.” the agent responds, putting the bottles in a secured case.
“Good.” you say, eyes never leaving the files you’re currently going through, “How did they manage to get my information…”
Minho shrugs, standing behind you as he peers over your shoulder, “Networks and connections. Plus, many of Cle’s agents are ex-SKZ scientists. I’m sure they managed to steal some information from our database.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” you tilt your head to look at the male.
He answers plainly, “Of course, but a month after the incident in the labs, Felix and the tech team did a full-sweep and eliminated any bugs, viruses, hacks, and theft issues in our database. They’ve monitored it closely ever since.”
“I see.” you nod, putting a folder back into the filing cabinet and pulling out another one, “These are mostly just scrapped plans and formulas that didn’t seem to give them success with their serum.”
Minho nods, walking over to the other side of the room to where a locker-like cabinet stood. “Just grab what you think will help the three of you in the lab.” he says, preoccupying himself with getting the locker open.
You nod in response, pulling out another folder. A small wave of satisfaction hits you as you read the contents of the files, “This is a fairly recent file, and based on the notes and comments, scribbled on it, this is their most current formula. It...it’s identical to the one I kept at home.”
Minho has a subtle smirk on his lips, an unexplainable sense of pride bubbling in him at the thought of you being so capable, “Is that so? I guess that explains why they needed you on board. Probably knew you’d make the process faster for them since you’re an expert.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” you sheepishly chuckle, “They just knew I knew something and wanted to use that, I guess.”
Minho finally gets the locker open and narrows his eyes at the mess inside. And by mess, meaning there was so much clutter inside like someone just shoved their whole life inside. With a sigh of un-amusement, the male rummages through the items inside while saying, “Well, either way, they’re basically done with their serum, and if our intel is correct, they’re going to sell and supply those serums to high-bidding private parties in the black market.”
“I know. Jisung, Seungmin, and I will try to work on a solution as quickly as possible.” you assure the male, grabbing a few folders with formulas and plans and shoving it inside your bag.
“I know you three will.” Minho says with a small smile.
You close one filing cabinet and open another one, pulling out a random folder in the process. The first few sheets of paper are medical records, but you don’t bother to read what’s written or whose name it belongs to.
Not until the next sheet of paper reveals a picture.
There, in full color, is a picture of your dear friend, Ahn Hyejoo.
You tilt your head in utter confusion, wondering if the late doctor was also in kahoots with Cle or something of the like. You flip to the next page of the file, but regret it as soon as you feel your heart sinking to the deepest depths of despair. There on the paper, in clear writing, were plans of her apparent death.
She died in an accident. An accident.
But according to these files, Cle had “staged” or planned that accident.
It didn’t make sense. Why would they do that? Ahn Hyejoo was a humble and sweet doctor who spent most of her time drowning herself in chamomile tea and eating shortcake during her breaks in the hospital. She was the doctor who greeted everyone with a smile and remained extremely patient even to the crankier patients. She dedicated her short life to serving others and helping in the hospital. What could she have possibly done to have Cle end her life?
Your heart palpitates at the mere confusion, mind swirling and body shaking at what you had just read. “I don’t understand…” you trail off, more to yourself than anyone, really; you doubt Minho heard you as well.
Little did you know, just as you were frazzled by your discovery, so was Minho.
After rummaging through the heap of mess in the locker, he stumbled upon three things - three very distinct things to him.
A golden bracelet adorned with small red-ruby charms.
A glittery, black hair scrunchie used to tie someone’s hair into a ponytail.
And a single silver, dangling earring in the shape of an arrow, a small star at the tip of it.
The bracelet belonged to her. The scrunchie belonged to her. The earring belonged to him.
With a clenched jaw, the male agent sweeps the items to the side, revealing a small folder with just a few sheets of paper inside. Opening it, his eyes land on the picture of a woman, and below her picture is her personal information and profile details, much like how SKZ files looked like - except this was a profile for Cle agents.
Minho knew. He knew before Jiyeon left his life. But to see it again and be reminded once more...it didn’t sadden him. It only angered him, the disgusting feeling of bitterness piling inside.
From the other end of the room, you hastily put Hyejoo’s file back into the cabinet before walking over to Minho. You gently tap his back, whispering, “I think I’m good. I have enough data.”
But the agent doesn’t respond, and upon a better look, you notice how tense his body is. You decide to follow his gaze, eyes landing on the file in his hands - a woman’s profile. You assumed it to be the Jiyeon woman Seungmin and Jisung mentioned. Your eyes widened upon seeing that her profile was under Cle, so without a second thought, you brought your eyes back to Minho.
You expected to see rage - and yes, the thought of Jiyeon always angered him - but all you could see right now was bitterness and a hint of sorrow. You gently clasp a hand around his and whisper a bit louder, “Minho?”
He snaps out of his daze and quickly turns his eyes to you, offering an apologetic smile - a stark contrast to how his eyes looked a while ago. “Sorry, I just - ” he begins, but is cut off by a light snicker.
“Fancy seeing you two here.”
Minho doesn’t turn his head, narrowing his eyes instead. You, however, snap your head to the voice almost immediately, recognizing the familiarity without any issue. And because you do, your eyes widen with horror and heart ache, chest constricting with a sickening feeling as your hands move to grab the sleeve of Minho’s jacket. “Hyunbin…” you manage to gasp out, still unable to accept the fact the Minho was right about his assumption.
“Hey, y/n.” he says as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.
“I don’t understand...why?” you feel your legs go numb.
Hyunbin shrugs casually, crossing his arms, “Our friendship was all an act, my dear. I’ve always been a Cle agent. My role in Gongjak was just a cover to track and monitor you.”
“Wha - ” the words get stuck in your throat; you feel like you’ve been shot by a million arrows at once, dragged along the pavement, and thrown off a cliff when his words begin to sink in.
“It was going alright, I would say. Well, until you got involved with SKZ again and perhaps...romantically involved with that man.” Hyunbin snides.
You ignore the last part of his statement and instead ask, “What did Hyejoo do then? I saw the files. Did you know your bosses staged her accident?”
“Yes, I came up with the idea.” Hyunbin laughs, “Hyejoo’s curiosity knows no bounds. It was my mistake to let myself slip, but one evening, we had...well, spent a night together, mostly for my amusement. However, her curiosity prompted her to snoop around my place and see some...things. Couldn’t let her live after all that now, could I?”
Your body shivers involuntarily, breath hitching in your throat when Hyunbin pulls a gun out. Fortunately, Minho is just as quick, hiding you behind him as he pulls his own gun out and aims it at the male doctor. Hyunbin snickers, “You do know that my target is you, Lee, not y/n, right?”
Minho is unfazed as he levels a glare, “I know. But you’re not getting your hands on her, so be my guest and try to shoot me down.”
In the blink of an eye, both males pull their respective triggers; Hyunbin moves to the side to avoid Minho’s bullet while Minho pulls your wrist, ducking down to dodge Hyunbin’s. Without a second to waste, Minho gently pushes you behind one of the desks, “Don’t leave this spot, ok?”
You nod, heart thumping in your chest as Minho stands up to confront Hyunbin. The agent draws the doctor out into the hallway of the clinic and away from the room they were previously in. Making use of the other rooms, furniture, and walls, the two begin a rapid-fire shoot out. Bullets fly here and there, breaking vases and cracking the cement walls like mere chalk. Hyunbin may be an agent, but his shots are a bit off and frenzied, narrowly missing Minho each time. It gives him enough time to dart across the hall, taking refuge behind a wall.
Hyunbin stops shooting, and Minho knows he’s out of ammo. Taking advantage of the time frame, Minho pokes out of his hiding spot and aims at Hyunbin, pulling the trigger and landing a clean shot on the hand the doctor held his gun with. Hyunbin hisses as he drops his gun to the ground, giving Minho ample time to pocket his own gun - he’d rather save him ammo - while he rushes over to where Hyunbin stands. From there, the two males resort to physical fighting.
With Hyunbin still recovering from the shot to his hand, Minho easily lands a punch on the male’s face, causing him to stumble back. While it was normal for him to do so in the context of his job, it also gave Minho some sense of satisfaction to hit the man who built up your trust, only to single-handedly smash it down; it was like hitting him for you in a way.
Minho cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck, “You know….y/n really trusted you. She considered you her closest friend.”
“That’s her mistake.” Hyunbin says, steadying his posture for a fight, “She put her trust on the wrong person. Though, I can’t really blame her.”
The doctor then lunges at Minho, swinging punch after punch as if he were in a hurry. Minho observes his movement, calculating each swing with focused eyes; it helps him dodge or counter his opponent’s attacks. The agent then grabs Hyunbin’s wrists and twists it behind him, causing the latter to yelp in pain. Minho then uses the opportunity to kick Hyunbin down from behind, releasing a huff afterwards, “I’m surprised you didn’t just kidnap y/n during your fake friendship.”
Hyunbin stands up and shrugs the pain off, “I was tasked to simply keep watch over her until Cle wanted to make a move. We weren’t expecting she’d go back to SKZ...not after what she went through there.”
“So you knew?”
“I knew she was involved, but my superiors didn’t say anything else.”
Minho’s lips curl into a scowl, “Cle’s really just a den of snakes huh…”
At this, Hyunbin’s snickers become more audible and taunting, “Oh, you would know, wouldn’t you, Agent Lee?”
“Wh - ”
“Your precious Jiyeon was also part of that so-called ‘den of snakes’ wasn’t she?” Hyunbin laughs, “Unfortunately for you, despite your skill and intelligence, you fell for that woman. She was charming indeed, but I did not expect you to actually date her.”
Minho pretends like the comment doesn’t affect him, but Hyunbin notices the subtle change in his body language - tense and guarded. Putting on a stone-faced facade, Minho says, “She’s gone now, isn’t she? That’s all that matters.”
“Oh, ‘cause you have dear Dr. Song now?” Hyunbin pretends to gag, “Unfortunately for you, I’m going to have to take her away.”
“Like I said, be my guest and shoot me down if you want her.”
As if that spurred Hyunbin on, the doctor aggressively lunges at Minho, the sheer force of it making him take a few steps back. Minho is just as strong, standing his ground as he wrestles with the other male. With practiced speed, Minho uses one hand to grab his pocket knife, twirling it in his hand before lodging it into Hyunbin’s shoulder. The doctor yells, gritting his teeth as he tries to pry it away from him. However, Minho is way ahead of him, pulling the knife out and stabbing it onto the male’s torso, causing him to let go of Minho and crouch down on the floor.
“I’d like to kill you right now - ” Minho doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Hyunbin pulls the knife out from his body and swings it at Minho’s leg.
Fortunately, the agent merely side-steps, dodging the attempt easily. Minho pulls Hyunbin up by the collar of his shirt, bringing him close so that he could knee him in the abdomen. The doctor crumples down on the floor, seemingly unconscious. Minho then turns on his heel to return to you, but Hyunbin gets up when Minho turns his back. Hyunbin lunges at the agent, tackling him to the ground. With Minho recovering his bearings, Hyunbin straddles him and wastes no time in launching a flurry of punches. Around three punches land on Minho’s face before the agent once again overpowers the doctor, turning the tables so it was Hyunbin below him.
But Hyunbin is far from done, bringing a knee to Minho’s stomach, the force and power of it causing the agent to fall back. Hyunbin then grabs the knife that was on the floor, straddling Minho once more as he lunges the weapon into Minho’s arm. He winces but does not falter, gritting his teeth as he maneuvers their weight to flip Hyunbin over and behind him in a tumbling motion. Minho takes the knife out and throws it towards Hyunbin, piercing the doctor’s leg, prompting him to limp as he staggers towards the agent.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, Minho pulls his gun out and swiftly pulls the trigger, landing a clean shot on Hyunbin’s chest. The doctor gasps out breathlessly, falling to the ground and griping in pain. Minho scoffs, tucking his gun back in and kicking Hyunbin to the wall of the room for extra measure. Finally, he makes his leave and returns to the room where you are.
He crouches down beside the desk he left you at, offering a small smile, “We should go.”
You worriedly take in his bloodied appearance, sighing, “Ok.”
But just as you stand up, you hear the door slamming and a digital lock beeping. Both you and Minho turn towards the sound; you look at Hyunbin in horror while Minho narrows his eyes coldly.
“No one’s getting out of this alive!” he yells, blood dripping down his chin; Minho’s honestly surprised he survived that gunshot.
“Slowly walk towards the door, y/n.” Minho instructs you.
You do as you are told, taking careful steps towards the door. Hyunbin slowly approaches you, and your heart freezes for a second. Minho, however, is quick compared to the two of you, grabbing Hyunbin’s wrist and pulling the doctor towards him to bring a knee to his injuries. Hyunbin coughs up blood, and Minho flings him towards the back of the room, causing him to crash into the shelves lining the wall. By now, both you and Minho are at the door, trying to get it open.
“No use!” Hyunbin cackles from where he’s slumped over broken shelves, “I’ve encoded it to never open unless I say so!”
Minho scowls, shooting a glare before making quick use of his intelligence to bypass the security code. But when he hears your soft, shaky voice, his movements halt for a second. “Hyunbin...please don’t.” you croak out, pleading eyes meeting the doctor’s.
The Hyunbin you knew would have smiled softly and chuckled like the spring breeze, but right now, he scoffed and allowed his lips to curl into a hungry smirk, “Boom.”
Before Minho can stop him, Hyunbin pulls a lighter from his pocket, setting the various chemicals around on fire. Minho grabs the small case where he kept the Cle serum samples and stays close to the door.
“Hyunbin!” you yell, but the doctor is busy laughing; it’s not an evil, twisted laugh - it’s cold and calm and almost smooth, sending chills down your spine.
Minho speaks into his comm device, “Felix! I need you to breach this code now!”
“On it.” the younger responds.
But just a few seconds after Hyunbin lights the chemicals on fire, a small explosion bursts, a thick blanket of pungent smoke swirling in the room and causing you both to cough. The air is extremely hot as the fire grows bigger and closer to a large bottle of unknown liquids. Minho wraps you in his arms as if shielding you for an imminent explosion, his voice commanding yet leveled as he speaks into the comm again, “Anytime Lix!”
“Wait! Just...a little…” Felix says from HQ through the comms, “...a little more...”
“Hyunbin…” you trail off brokenly.
Minho turns his head to the doctor who is now engulfed in flames, silent yet smirking as if he had won. The agent pulls you closer to him, making sure you don’t see the scene unfolding before you. 
“There!” Felix announces.
The minute the younger male bypasses the code and has the door unlocked, a bigger explosion booms in the room. As the explosion goes off, Minho pushes forward, both of you tripping over each other’s legs as you fall to the floor. Thankfully, that fall somehow allowed you two from getting directly hit by said explosion, though the fumes may have gotten to both of you nonetheless.
Quick to hit feet, Minho pulls you up and wastes no time dashing out of the clinic. Once outside, the whole place begins to go up in flames, the crackling sounds of fire burning disturbing the night. Minho feels you shaking by his side, so he wraps his arms around you and ushers you to the secrecy and shadows of the trees.
“Lix, please have accommodations arranged for us here in Gangwon. You know where.” Minho quietly says into his comms, “With a good change of clothes for me and y/n.”
“You got it.”
The agent grips the small case of Cle serum bottles in one hand before turning to you to press a light kiss to your forehead before speaking, “There’s a small inn here in Gangwon that we have connections to, so they’ll give us a place to rest in for tonight.”
“Won’t they suspect that you're bloody and we’re covered in ash, dirt and smell like a lab?” you ask softly.
Minho smiles gently, beginning to walk, “The owner is an SKZ agent. They know what’s up.”
“By the way...I still have the files in my bag. I didn’t leave anything.” you say, hoping it somehow mattered despite the fact that Minho’s lowkey mission ended up with a burning clinic and dead ex-friend.
Minho smiles at you, squeezing your hand, “Good job.”
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A few blocks away from the clinic site, a car picks the two of you up and brings you to the inn where Felix arranged for accommodations. A woman at the lobby greets Minho with a slight bow, “Agent Lee.”
“Agent Ju.” Minho greets in kind.
“Your room is ready.” she smiles gently while turning to you, “Necessary medical kits are there as well, and we’ve provided a phone in case you need it. I had someone go out to get clothes, but you might receive it tomorrow morning, so I prepared two decent robes for the two of you to use in the meantime.”
“Thank you.” Minho nods his head, leading you up the stairs after Ju gives both of you a smile and wave.
Once you both get inside the room prepared for you two, Minho plops the case and your bag on the floor beside the bed before sitting down. “I’m going to update HQ on our situation.” he says softly, “You can take it easy now.”
You nod, choosing to sit next to him. When you lean your head on his shoulder - the non-injured one, the agent puts a comforting hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle patterns on the skin. With his other hand, he holds the phone Ju provided to his ear, waiting for HQ to pick up. A few seconds later, a familiar voice responds, “Hello?”
“Chan.”
“Hmm?”
“Y/n and I are at Ju’s inn. We finished searching the clinic and...I need you to report back to Jung for me.”
“Ok, go. I’m listening.”
Minho then begins to tell the older male the events that transpired that evening, including what you found, who you encountered and what happened after. When he finishes recalling the situation, he ends with, “We’ll spend a night here to recover. We’ll head back to HQ tomorrow morning.”
“Got it.” Chan says from the other end, “I’m glad you’re both safe, now get some rest.”
“Yeah, see you.”
Minho ends the call then puts the phone on the bedside table. He brings his hand to the stab wound Hyunbin left on his shoulder and sighs, “For a doctor, he sure knows how to use a knife.”
You offer a small smile, “Well, we do surgeries, you know?”
Minho lightly chuckles, “Right, right.”
You lift your head from his shoulder and nod your head towards the bathroom, “You need to take a bath so I can treat that immediately. And, the fire and explosions involved chemical substances, so I don’t want to risk it contaminating or lingering on your skin.”
“You should bath first.” the male responds, “You were caught in that as well.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have any other injuries.” you reason.
“We both need a bath, considering chemicals exploded around us and we’re covered in all sorts of dirt and soot.” Minho stands up, pulling you up with him, “Let’s take a shower together, hmm? Win-win situation.”
You blush at the thought, immediately looking down at the carpeted floor. Minho stifles a laugh at your reaction before squeezing your hand, “I won’t do anything, y/n. Of course, if you’re uncomfortable, you can shower ahead.”
It takes you a moment to recover before you can shake your head and flash a very shy smile, “No, it’s fine...we can do that.”
With an assuring smile, Minho leads you to the bathroom. There, he strips out of his clothes and enters the shower, turning the water on. He turns to you and tilts his head, “Are you gonna just stand there?”
You pout and begin to remove your clothes as well; though your cheeks are burning, you get in the shower with him.
You expected to be flustered and awkward right now, but the entire shower time between you two is filled with a comfortable silence, giving you a sense of normalcy and peace. Minho takes a good few minutes under the shower head; while you would have wanted to take this time to appreciate his physique, your eyes automatically drifted to the stab wound on his shoulder.
Kang Hyunbin did that.
Your “friend” Hyunbin did that.
And now that the adrenaline wears off, you feel the heart ache and exhaustion wash over you like a wave crashing against the rocks of a cliff. The tears that should have poured down in the clinic suddenly rush down now, mixing in with the water dripping from your wet hair. Minho doesn’t notice as he rinses his hair from the shampoo, but when a sob escapes your lips, his attention snaps to you.
“Y/n?”
And right there and then, sob after sob leaves you choking and sniffing, tears rushing down your face like a dam released. You have to bring a hand to your mouth to control your cries, and it absolutely shatters the male bathing with you. It takes Minho a second to move, but as quickly as he can, he brings his arms around you and pulls you close to him. This was probably the tightest, closest hug you’ve ever shared, and the idea somehow calms you.
Still, your body violently shakes in his hold as you cry your heart out, wails blending with the sound of the water hitting the tiled floor from the shower. Minho’s hand travels up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you as he whispers, “It’s ok, let it all out. You’ll be ok.”
Your hands come up to clutch at his back, holding him close as if he was the only thing keeping you from slipping - a lifeline of sorts. You bury your head by the crook of his neck and do as he said, crying and crying until your tears ran out.
After a few minutes, your breathing stabilized and your cries had stopped. Minho pulls away just enough to look in your eyes, using one hand to move wet strands of hair away from your face. “You ok?” he asks gently.
You nod, offering a broken but much calmer smile now. Minho hums in satisfaction before pulling you under the shower head. You take turns in rinsing yourselves in the warm, relaxing water, making use of the soap and shampoo provided. After you’re both essentially cleaned up, the agent grabs two towels and offers one to you so you could get dried up. Then, you both slip into the comfy bathrobes provided before stepping out of the bathroom.
Minho walks over to the bed while you grab a first aid kit. You return to Minho’s side before moving in front of him, between his legs, and gently shrug off one sleeve of his robe to reveal the stab wound. You work in silence, putting the necessary medicines and stitching the injury up with gentle and nimble hands. Minho looks up at you with warm eyes, and you’d meet his gaze every so often while offering a small smile. Afterwards, you put the kit aside on the floor, but you do not leave your position.
Instead, your hands rest on his shoulders as his arms carefully wind around your waist. With one tug, he manages to pull you close, essentially making you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Despite the blush on your cheeks, you lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes tiredly and releasing a shaky breath. “You’re lucky Hyunbin didn’t turn out to be a fight-centered agent.” you say.
“Hmm?”
You gesture the wound on his shoulder, “He may be an agent, but I guess he was a scientist and doctor first and foremost, not a field agent like you are. If he was, I think he would have given you worse injuries.”
“That’s true.” Minho nods, “Still surprised he can somehow carry a fight though.”
“I trusted him.”
Minho hums quietly, “I know.”
You sniff, urging yourself not to cry again, “Why’d it have to be him?”
“Did you love him?”
“I did not.” you open your teary eyes to meet Minho’s, “But I trusted him enough to be my friend. To be someone I could open up to and be weak with.”
“I know the feeling.” Minho whispers.
You sigh, “I put my trust in the wrong person again.”
Minho looks sympathetic, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, “...do you still trust me?”
“I do, Minho.”
“Do you trust me with your life?” he says, and you aren’t sure who moved closer, but with every word he whispers, his lips brush against yours.
“I still trust you with everything, Minho.” you taste his lips subtly, “Everything.”
And like an elastic snapping, whatever invisible sheet of resistance that had stood between the two of you had shattered, the force bringing the two of you together. Lips clashed on lips in a slow, languid yet desperate kiss. Emotions poured out in a rush after being kept in for so long. If neither you nor Minho could express how you were feeling in words right now, the kiss you shared was more than enough to convey the message.
One of the male’s hands supports the back of your neck while the other clamps on your waist; your arms snake around his neck, and the two of you ensure that not even air can fit between your bodies. Minho kisses desperately, but there’s still a smooth and patient movement to his lips. They’re so soft and addicting, and you find yourself entranced in the dance he leads with purpose. You can’t help but hum into his mouth when his tongue darts in to continue his tango. Every slide of your tongues against each other sends a shiver down your spine, and Minho finds himself navigating every inch of your mouth like a pirate searching for treasure.
After a while, he pulls away after giving your bottom lip a quick nibble. Foreheads pressed against each other’s, Minho smiles charmingly as he whispers against your lips, “Should we get some rest, y/n?”
“Sounds good.” you smile back.
The male shifts around on the bed, laying down with you beside him and still enveloped in his arms. A few seconds of silence stretches while you both get comfortable on the bed; you eventually settle with resting your head on his chest while his arm coils around your waist. Minho stares at the ceiling, just about ready to close his eyes before you suddenly whisper, “Minho?”
“Hmm? What’s wrong?”
“That woman...that was Jiyeon, wasn’t it?”
Minho recalls the files you both saw in the locker back at the clinic. With a few blinks, Minho replies, “Yes, that was her.”
“What happened?”
His silence worries you, thinking that you may have overstepped your boundaries with him. Maybe it was a subject he didn’t want to touch with anyone but the boys. Offering a small smile, you shake your head, “You don’t need to tell me if you aren’t comfortable though.”
“It’s fine.” Minho smiles reassuringly, “I suppose I should tell you.”
“Ok.”
“Jiyeon was my girlfriend.” he starts, giving your waist a little squeeze, “But she betrayed us in SKZ as well. She was Jung’s favorite and most trusted agent.”
“Jung did mention something like that.” you say carefully, “He also said that that agent apparently left or escaped so they’re most probably with Cle now.”
“Is that what he said?” Minho says a bit too bitterly, “Well, of course that’s what he’d tell you to keep you from getting hurt. It’s true that Jiyeon left SKZ, but not because she escaped. She’s dead.”
“How?”
Minho closes his eyes, “I killed her.”
The agent expects you to stand up and scurry away from him - to feel fear and dread or perhaps look at him with disgust. It does, however, surprise him that you cuddle closer to him, gently splaying your hand on top of his chest where his heart rests. “I’m sorry.” you whisper.
Minho lifts a hand to clasp around yours on his chest and offers a gentle smile. His eyes are screaming fondness and warmth as he looks at you, “It’s been years already though. I put it behind me.”
“If I may ask...what did she do?” you shift to look up at him from where you lay.
“Jiyeon and I joined SKZ at the same time. Trained together, got assigned to the same team almost always, and eventually got involved romantically. We were a pretty good team along with Chan and sometimes Bin. I always had her back, and she always had mine. But at some point in time, her behavior shifted and she became more...elusive and mysterious. She avoided a lot of conversations, chose to take missions by herself, and even avoided me for a while. Jung dismissed my concerns; that’s his greatest weakness. For someone of a high position, he’s much too trusting of his own men. I assume that’s why he didn’t realize Dr. Baek was doing...things in the secret labs. Thankfully, Chan understood where I was coming from and we decided to investigate or track her movements. That led me to speculate her involvement with a third-party organization, though I did not think it was Cle at the time.”
“Did you ever actually catch her red-handed?”
“She tried to kill me first. She knew I was suspicious of her after one evening. But I was awake and able to stop her. I let her walk away because I somehow knew we’d cross paths again. Ironically...I crossed paths with her in one of the lounge rooms of the lab department where no one was currently staying in. Hyunbin isn’t the only plot twist - Jiyeon was too. She was involved with Cle’s experiments back then. She was in charge of facilitating certain events that allowed Dr. Baek and his men to acquire certain materials and to keep nosy SKZ agents away from where you were conducting tests.”
“So...how’d you stop - how’d she die?”
“I shot her.” Minho says plainly, “The day that fight broke out in the lab was the day Cle was supposed to transport their experiments to another base or location, according to what Jiyeon was saying. I told Jung, and he told me to dispose of any traitors I could find. That included her. I was expecting to hesitate and find myself torn over the decision, but…I wasn’t. The sight of Jiyeon angered me. She lied to me and broke my trust like a fool, so I was angry. Killing her was...easy. But the realization of what I did hit harder after her death. It haunted me for so long, and I blamed it on myself for being weak...for allowing myself to waste time on human emotions and relationships. Ever since then, I hardened my heart and detached myself from everyone except for Chan and the boys.”
You were about to say something when Minho suddenly says, “But during the aftermath of that incident, Jung and I went to the lab to check on everything and round up the traitors who weren't able to escape. Then I saw you on the floor, crying and looking broken and lost with the chaos going around. I didn’t know you back then - just thought you were an innocent scientist or doctor caught in the fight. But I could tell that something broke you that day the same way killing Jiyeon broke me, and that caused something to stir in me. I knew the pain you were going through, so I consoled you.”
A fragment of your memories flashed in your mind, a sudden realization falling over you as Minho’s words sank in.
You sat on the lab floor with an empty expression, blood dripping down your face and black smoky soot smudging your skin. An agent you didn’t know or have never seen held you in his arms, whispering that it was going to be ok as Jung angrily ordered the others to search for the escaped “traitors”.
“That was you…” you breathe out.
“That was me.” Minho smiles gently, “After seeing you like that, and after I reacted the way I did, I realized that human emotions were...complicated, but they weren’t stupid. It's just that...it’s not something to be wasted on the wrong people. Emotions were something to be used with someone or people who deserved it. When Jung instructed me to fetch you back to SKZ, I somehow connected the dots that you were a scientist involved in that incident and not just an innocent casualty.”
“I see.” you trail off gently, “Why didn’t you say anything? If you knew who I was or what I did already? Is that why you put your trust in me despite me being so secretive?”
“More or less. I figured you’d be more hostile and hesitant to trust me if you found out that I knew about your past.” he admits, “It’s...your defense mechanism. You shut out anyone and anything related to your past, so I wanted to wait until you fully trusted me.”
“You really are something else, Lee Minho.” you hum gently, lips curling into a small smile, “Truly something else.”
“So are you, Song y/n.” Minho hugs you closer.
You chuckle, “Thank you for telling me, Minho. I didn’t know you had gone through so much as well. That’s what Jeongin probably meant when he said you had your reasons for acting certain ways.”
Minho nods, “You’ve put your trust in me, y/n. It’s only fair for me to be transparent with you. And yeah, Jeongin was right. I had my reasons, just as you had yours.”
You let out a sleepy yawn before nuzzling closer to the male agent, “It’s nice to not have to keep secrets anymore.”
“Indeed.” Minho kisses the top of your head, “Thank you for trusting me, y/n.”
“And thank you for not giving up on gaining my trust despite me being difficult.” you smile, lifting your head from his chest and onto the pillow below.
Minho shifts to lie on his side and presses a gentle kiss on your lips before holding you close to him, “Deserved, my dear. Now, let’s get some sleep. You had a rough day.”
“Mhmm.” you let out another yawn, “Good night, Minho.”
“Good night, y/n.”
“I love you.” Minho merely says it in his mind, but he knows he’ll be able to tell you someday.
And perhaps you’d say the same.
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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years
Note
this is exactly how it went down in my head.
misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?
jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.
misha: got it.
— the next day —
misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?
jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.
misha: say no more.
when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.
ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut
NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-
on god they are so loud like-
Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.
so true bestie
I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.
Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.
- 🐌 anon
literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh
Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie
good for her.gif
csdsc heeft gevraagd:
All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂
that would have been better than what we got lmfao
I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him
i pretend i do not see
Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can
co-signed
Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.
- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently
yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs
You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.
- 🐌 anon
you are not wrong
Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢
i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do
I was right. :(
It got almost romantic...
👀
nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya
Danneel liked Jensen's tweet
i saw
That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon
god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao
You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content
im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh
pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps
you know you want to king pspsps
So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.
Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.
And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.
And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚
idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh
Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!
Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂
👽
oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again
I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon
yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt
MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN
YOU SURE DO
I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.
sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'
Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here
Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)
Missed you Rose
-🐻
LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!
Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT
sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately
i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.
honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao
They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved
oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary
king shit tbh
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
Note
so ironwood was confirmed to be dead by Miles in a $42 cameo session, where the person who bought it had asked for "comforting words to soothe our anguished souls" bc she was an ironwood fan and wanted a pick-me-up after that devastating finale. miles' response was to essentially mock his fans (it really sounded like that, especially since he ended with "thank you jimmy, may you rest in pieces, crushed beneath the weight of the kingdom you tried so hard to hold up above your head."
apparently the VA, jason rose, confirmed it in DMs w the same fan who sent in the cameo ask. so like, quite apart from how rude and disrespectful it was of miles to make a mockery of james in a cameo where he'd been specifically asked for comforting words regarding the character, ngl but i think that if you have to confirm a MAJOR CHARACTER is dead outside of canon bc you failed to actually show it on screen.....you've failed as a writer. and also that kind of thing shouldn't be confirmed in an expensive and exclusive interview lmao like how hard would it have been to just talk about good aspects to james' character instead of calling him a dickbag and saying 'don't do a genocide, guys!!'
it reeks of unprofessionalism and also it just makes everything surrounding ironwood's character arc even worse since apparently 'his fate was sealed' from the moment he was introduced to the show.
Me, who received the first Moderna shot yesterday (🎉 🎉 🎉 ): Ugh I feel too crappy to answer asks today
Me, upon hearing this news: You know, I have suddenly found an untapped source of energy
Okay, all joking aside, I watched the vid and it’s definitely a lot. I don’t have any information about the request itself except for what Miles mentions in the recording, so I can’t speak to what the fan may have been looking for outside of that, but some highlights include: 
“This is for the filth in my degenerate discord server” - Yeah, that’s how a lot of us (fans) talk about ourselves. It sounds like someone who really enjoys Ironwood and makes joking, self-deprecating comments about their love of a character. That’s familiar to me and speaks to the expectation that they hoped for something other than what they got. At least, if I’d sent in a request like that I wouldn’t be happy with the vid, but that’s obviously my own perspective and not this fan’s. I’d be very curious to know their own thoughts though... 
“Sometimes a character we like doesn’t make it, does something we don’t agree with... or both!” - That is indeed how characters work! The real question is whether their death/actions make sense within the story, which is not addressed here. Many fans who enjoyed Ironwood don’t have a problem with him dying or turning into a villain  — I’ve been honest about my acceptance of either/both, regardless of personal preference, provided it was written well  — and that was always the issue. Not what happened to Ironwood, but how it happened. 
“James Ironwood’s fate was sealed the moment his character was conceived many years ago.” - Personally, I don’t believe this. RT makes a lot of grand, sweeping statements about what’s been planned “for years” or “since the beginning” and too often we’re faced with writing that directly contradicts that. Though it’s unlikely we’ll ever know the truth, neither option paints the writing team in a good light. Either they’re straight up lying about what’s been planned (or twisting tossed out possibilities into assurances after the fact. For example, someone once suggested Ironwood might become a villain somehow at some point and now that’s presented as, ‘We’ve deliberately been working towards this specific ending for years’), or they’re being truthful and just... can’t write what they want to write. It doesn’t sound good when a writer says, ‘I’ve planned this the whole time’ and a good chunk of the fandom responds, ‘Then why couldn’t we see that planning this whole time?’ 
“When James was introduced we intentionally made him look like kind of a big dickbag, but then we realized that dickbag had a heart and was also half metal, and that was pretty cool!” - I don’t even know what to make of this. I’ve deconstructed his introduction before, but to summarize here, he’s presented as no more of a “dickbag” than Ozpin who may not be doing enough to protect the people, Winter who allowed herself to get taunted into a fight on campus, or Qrow who deliberately started that fight while drunk. Glynda is the only one who is arguably innocent here. The implication seems to be that obviously Ironwood became a villain because “we intentionally made him look like kind of a big dickbag” but then... does that mean Qrow will become a villain too someday?? 
The comments about them realizing he had a heart and was half metal just speak to that lack of planning. No, you obviously didn’t plan this downfall from the start if you “realized” something as basic as him caring for others partway through writing him and then allowed that care to drive his character for so long that the decent into villainy read as OOC, rather than inevitable. You obviously weren’t writing him with a backstory that influenced his character  — of which his semblance is a major part  — if you “realized” he was half-metal... whenever that happened. The fact that we never saw that backstory, or the semblance on screen, or returned to his half-metal nature outside of a ‘That’s coding for evilness’ theme again speaks to the fact that either a) none of this was actually planned or b) the execution is seriously lacking here. 
“Let us all take a moment to thank General James Ironwood for his service to the Kingdom of Atlas, but... at the end of the day, don’t do a genocide [laughs]” - I’m having trouble articulating why I dislike this. I’m really too tired to be unpacking this right now (lol), but it has something to do with  — as you say, anon  — that mocking tone. Something else to do with the surge of purity culture in recent years. The tone feels like it’s tied up in an unsaid, ‘You like the character who tried to commit genocide?’ accusation when, you know, he’s a fictional character. People can like characters who do bad things. More significantly, he’s a fictional character Miles wrote. There’s something particularly distasteful about writers who feel like they’re laughing at fans for liking something when they created the thing with the intent that we would like it. And many did. So they gave attention, time, money, passion, etc. to the work and then when that part of the work finished, the creator appears to make light of that investment? Idk, I’m speaking about more than just this one line  — the tone of the vid as a whole, really — but it feels much less like “You enjoy Ironwood! 😄” and more “You enjoy Ironwood...  😬” Like yeah, fans enjoyed the character that you wanted them to enjoy who you wrote to have a heart and then suddenly commit genocide instead. There’s definitely nothing complicated in all that. 
“Thank you, Jimmy. May you rest in pieces crushed beneath the weight of the kingdom you tried so hard to hold above your head. Amen.” - All of the above x2 with the added issue that this was never shown on screen. Miles presents Ironwood’s arc like this seven year long plan when in fact they couldn’t even manage the basic move of telling the audience what happened to the character in his final hour. The fact that a fan had to pay to find out whether Ironwood is dead is not a gold star for the writing. 
Every time the RWBY crew speaks about the story in supplementary material the canon itself gets worse. Hyping Clover/Qrow on social media pushes the canon closer to queerbaiting. We’re way closer to that with them hyping Blake/Yang. Long ago comments about Ozpin’s cane suddenly make Volume 8 a retcon. A Q&A about Ironwood’s semblance makes his arc a thousand times more confusing about how we’re supposed to read his character  — to name just a few. Now this. When a friend first told me this info had dropped I thought, “Thank god. He’s not coming back then. I don’t want them writing Ironwood’s character anymore,” but really... can we believe anything the crew says? “Crushed beneath the weight of his kingdom” doesn’t mean Ironwood won’t show up in Volume 9 if it’s a spirit world type adventure. It doesn’t mean he won’t show up three years from now with even more metal in his body and a, “We said he was crushed, not that he was dead ;)” explanation. Hell, it doesn’t even mean he won’t show up with no explanation at all because, as established, what’s said in supplementary works and what happens on screen are two entirely separate things. Iffy as the vid may come across to those who did like Ironwood, I was initially happy that it at least gave us some closure... but now I’m not even sure about that. 
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guesst · 3 years
Text
some of the best fantasy au fics for bnha that i've read
i decided to make a fic rec list of one of my favourite aus/fusions. mostly midoriya-centric, there are some crossovers (with hp), and a lot of different ways in which the authors have taken them - so it could be Quirks, ghosts, outright fantasy aus, spirits, witches etc etc. there isn't a specific order and there aren't a tonne (these are the ones i could find buried in my bookmarks lol), but the ones on the list are all really well written i love them.
i've tried adding relevant information, the summary (shortened if it's pretty long) and just. adding some random tags that may be important. not all of them though. obviously this is not a complete list and there will most definitely be more fics out there, if there are some really good fics that you know that aren't on this list, feel free to tell me, i'd love to read them!!!
i hope someone enjoys these!
Faith Becomes You by SugaSuga
oneshot | gen dfo, quirkless midoriya summary 'There's a tiny shrine in Musutafu that's overgrown with kudzu vines between Izuku's apartment and his middle-school. There may very well still be a god inside it. There may be nothing but the myth of a man from when Quirks were first emerging. Izuku hides in its walls for a while and ends up tending to the forgotten shrine. All good deeds have their impact, don't they?'
Of Mythos and Men by Oceanbreeze7
oneshot | gen spirit animal au, kinda summary (shortened) 'When he was young, Midoriya always wondered what his mythos would be. The matching half to his quirk, the ancestry of its power. Mythos were strange things, not linked genetically like quirks seemed to be. [...] Midoriya hadn't met his mythos. Even in UA. (In his dreams, something called to him, 'Chase me!')'
what a lion cannot manage by LadyLiterature
multichapter | ongoing | f/m, m/m kitsune au, female izuku, future bakudeku summary (shortened) 'She wants to be a hero. Wants to save everyone she meets and even the people she hasn’t. [...] A smart fox avoids fights. A smart fox does not seek them out. A smart fox does not fight for everyone. A smart fox, when they absolutely must, only fights for themselves and what is theirs and nothing else. Izumi, for all that she tries to be, is not a good fox.'
My Magic Academia by Kiterou
series | oneshots and multichapter | ongoing | gen HP crossover, wizard midoriya, platonic bkdk, some ocs summary (shortened) ' [...] In which Midoriya Inko is a witch and Izuku a wizard and even after 150 years of quirks taking over the world, Izuku still couldn't tell Kacchan that he isn't worthless and that he still could become a hero all on his own.'
A Lonely Windchime Makes No Sound by Musecookie
multichapter | ongoing | multi reader/shinso, total fantasy au, very wholesome summary (shortened) ' [...] You enjoy visiting your slightly creepy local library. When you accidentally befriend the elusive owner's familiar, he begins to appear more and more when you visit. You don't really mind, and he doesn't seem to hate you, even when the two of you become tied up in each other's fate as you pursue the secret to reviving a magical species of flower. Soft Strangers to Friends to Lovers type beat with lots of fluff and naps! Sleepy cuddles included.'
The grapes of friendship by Gentrychild
oneshot | gen crack, dfo, vampire izuku summary 'Izuku, a dhampir hiding his real identity as he goes to UA, the best wizard school in the country, spends the day with his friends. None of them are aware of it.'
Yesterday Upon the Stair by PitViperofDoom
multichapter | complete | gen less supernatural, izu's quirk lets him see ghosts, he still has ofa summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it. But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless [...] Not that anyone would believe it if he told them.'
sum of all (and by them driven) by Elemental
series | multichapter | ongoing | gen dadzawa, spirits give quirks, izu sees these spirits series summary 'Quirks aren't what you think they are.' first part summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku is medically quirkless, not technically homeless, perpetually exhausted and doing his damned best despite it all. He also sees spirits, which might be cool if not for the fact that a) no one else does, b) they really don't like him very much, and c) he's pretty sure the heroes now think he's a villain working for the League [...]'
The Struggles of a Modern-Day Vampire by miraculousemily47
oneshot | gen crack, 1-a shenanigans, vampire midoriya summary 'After Midoriya Izuku is turned into a vampire towards the end of his first year at U.A., he decides he wants to tell his classmates about his condition. The only problem is that he can't physically say the words, and his classmates are fucking idiots.'
Lights in the Dark by FrostKitten
series | oneshots | ongoing | gen supernatural au, izuku can see demons etc, quirkless/magic au summary (of first part) 'Midoriya Izuku, like most young kids, knows there are monsters. They live in closets, under beds, and occasionally in the park. As he grows older, his friends stop seeing them...but he still does.'
Hand in Unlovable Hand by jumbletea
series | oneshots | ongoing | gen vampire midoriya (and aizawa), dadzawa, toga n dabi n mido being siblings summary 'A collection of stories surrounding a not-quite-human Izuku and everyone he meets along the way.'
Simply Superstitious by CryCaladrius
multichapter | ongoing | gen lots of folklore and yokai and stuff, 'quirkless' magic user izuku, decent dad hisashi too summary (shortened) 'Izuku Midoriya’s father is a Hou-ou — a Japanese phoenix. For some reason, this means yokai have a standing invitation to pester Izuku with their existence. Birds assemble choirs for his birthday. If there’s no cedar leaf under the welcome mat, the amazake babaa that lives two apartments over will be knocking on their door by evening. His yokai-purifying excursions get mistaken for vigilantism far too often. [...]'
Cuckoo Bird (anonymous author)
multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen it may be discontinued but theres lots of fae folklore, deku is a changeling, deals etc, plus some platonic shindeku building up?? summary 'There's something off about Midoriya Izuku. (change·ling /ˈCHānjliNG/ noun a child believed to have been secretly substituted by fairies for the parents' real child in infancy.)'
tread softly as you go by IceEckos12
oneshot | gen if you read any fae au please let it be this! has faeries but mido is not one summary 'Humans used to be good at the old ways. They used to know how to bait the trap, to spin a web of words and lies that would ensnare even the most wily. Humans used to be able to twist deceptions around knots of iron and turn them into weapons of power. They forgot a long, long time ago. A boy unwittingly makes a deal with one of the fae, severing his ties to humanity. However, he finds that the fae world is far more strange and complex than he ever could have imagined.'
Hell is just a shoujo manga by supercrunch
multichapter | complete | f/m fantasy au, bakudeku, fem!izuku, isekai, dekusquad stuff, also some iidachako summary (shortened) 'Izuku wakes up crushed under a statue, trapped in the body of a princess who doesn't exist. Turns out she's a demon, which is weird. What's even weirder is the déjà vu that surrounds Kamino palace, reminding her of the events of this one manga she used to love. [...] But that's probably just a coincidence. [...] The problem here, obviously, is that Izuku's the demon princess. Ergo, she's a villain. And that means she's going to die at the end of this manga. Again.'
hold your breath as you cross by cassiopeia721
oneshot | gen dadzawa, another 'quirks are from spirits au' (expect more of those actually), mido is sad :( summary 'As the bridge between the world of guardian spirits and the quirk users who are blessed by them, Izuku's duty is to clean up the mess his predecessor left. It's taken what feels like an eternity worth of work, but Izuku's finally finished, and he's ready to rest at last. Unfortunately, the pro heroes who just watched him take down the Scourge of Kamino have no intention of letting him just wander off, and he finds himself stuck in an interrogation room with a bunch of humans who he's sure will never believe a word he says.'
To See with Eyes Unclouded by CrazySatan
series | oneshots | ongoing | gen witch au, witch midoriya, quirkless mido, bkg is not a good friend series summary 'Midoriya Izuku is a witch. A powerful witch. And even though he doesn't have a quirk, and magic doesn't Work Like That, Izuku ends up a hero. Somehow.'
Demons and Darkness by wolfsrainrules
series | oneshots | ongoing | gen dadzawa, shinso and mido and bkg are becoming friends, they can see monsters/spirits/bad things summary of first part 'Izuku has believed in the things that go bump in the night since he was small. That means he can see them, and almost everyone he knows....can't. So he decides he's going to be the shield humanity needs, no matter what. Eventually, he finds others that See too.'
know what i've made by the marks on my hands by simkjrs
multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen dadzawa, quirk spirit au (this inspired most of the others on this list), also eri summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku just wants to lead a quiet, peaceful life. This is foiled by the fact that a) he can see spirits, b) his good nature demands that he help anyone he sees in trouble, and c) he, by all rights, should not exist. [...]'
Izuku haunts class 1-A by Artistic-Gamer
series or multichapter whichever floats your boat | incomplete (hiatus) | other there are some triggering themes! such as suicide, blood, body disfigurement! please take care of yourself and avoid reading if this will hurt you! in other news: so much dadzawa, so much friendship, hurt mido summary (of first part) 'Class 1-A is rumored to be haunted, only the residents are aware it’s more than just a rumor..'
U.A's Resident Ghost by BeyondTheClouds777
multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen ghost midoriya, dadzawa, friendships!!!! summary 'There is a ghost at U.A. Not haunting U.A. Not even hanging out at U.A. There is a ghost. Enrolled. As a student of U.A. And it's just Shouta's luck that he has everything to do with it.'
and now, the weather by xylophones
oneshot | gen CRACK, paranormal/ghost hunters au, dekusquad stuff summary 'Izuku runs a fictional horror radio show. Because ghosts aren’t real. Right? (“Holy shit, ghosts are real,” Izuku whispers. Then, with the smugness of a sixteen-year-old who just won a decade long bet, “I knew it! Kacchan owes me five hundred yen!” “Midoriya,” Todoroki sighs, “this ghost is trying to kill us.”)'
U.A Unsolved by handcrusher(ameliafromafairytale)
oneshot | gen (it's a fic of a fic, so if you've read yesterday upon the stair then you'll understand better) izuku can see ghosts thats his quirk summary ' "Hey there, ghosts," Midoriya says, "it's me, ya boy." The dorms are haunted. Shenanigans ensue.'
The Haunting of Class 1-A by BritishRobutt
multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | n/a ghost midoriya, vigilante au, crack, the ghost bit is izu's quirk summary 'Everyone always told Izuku he couldn't be a hero, so when he dies and discovers his quirk, he becomes a vigilante out of spite. Whoops. After becoming Spectre, Japan's most wanted vigilante, Izuku realizes he can just fulfill his dreams of going to the top heroic school- after all, who can physically stop him from attending UA when he's a literal ghost?'
Caged by SternStunde
oneshot | gen tododeku, fantasy au (todo is a dragon, mido is a princess), genderbent deku (fem deku) summary 'Then she held up one of the books and smiled. "Want to learn an ancient language with me?" She was kind of a nerd, and she really hoped the dragon was too.'
Magic Runs Deep by draconicschinx
multichapter | ongoing/probably discontinued | gen mido has a quirk and he can see mythical creatures. summary '"Midoriya Izuku has always been good at making friends. Not human ones, really, but they are good friends nonetheless. " Izuku can see and talk to and interact with mythical creatures. It's not exactly the quirk he was hoping for, but he's going to use it to help humans and his non-human friends all the same.'
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bibbawrites · 3 years
Text
Beach Baby - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen
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THIS IS PART 4 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE , THE PREQUEL (PART 2) HERE AND PART 3 HERE 
Request: none
Word Count: 3907 words 😳
Summary: Part 4 of Single Dad!Charlie, Margaux and Charlie reunite with Owen in Hawaii after months apart due to lockdown, just in time for Margaux’s fourth birthday 
Warnings: technically underage drinking, i guess technically i have to warn that this is implied mutual crushing between owen and charlie, if you dont feel comfortable with romantic chowen do not read 
A/N: i couldn’t get this out of my head so i had to write it, and boy did i write it this is the longest non-chaptered fic ive ever written and honestly i could have made it longer but i didnt want it to drag on any more that it already did this is literally more than double the length of my normal fics, i got very carried away
also just a note that i’m not trying to be rude about the fans who met the boys at the airport and i’m sure in real life the boys were happy to stop and chat, but from a parents perspective charlie’s first instinct would be to protect his daughter so i just thought i’d add that. please don’t get upset for that part!
sorry for any mistakes, its 4am and im half asleep trying to read through this to post lol anyways, hope you enjoy! 
Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @headheartbellarke​ @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​ @fandomxreaders​​ @ifilwtmfc
“Papa!” Margaux screamed, racing across the airport to Owen, the blond boy scooping up the nearly four year old and spinning her around when she reached him. 
“Maggie! I’ve missed you so much.” Owen exclaimed, pulling his mask down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, causing Margaux to giggle loudly. “Where’s your Daddy?” 
“Right behind you.” Owen spun around to find Charlie standing there, clearly smiling at him despite the bandana that covered his mouth, and Owen’s heart skipped a beat at how good Charlie looked in the early morning sun streaming through the airport windows. 
Meanwhile Charlie was thinking the exact same thing, admiring how attractive Owen was, especially when he was in his dad mode. He really understood why girls had such a weakness for cute boys with cute kids when he saw Owen with Margaux. 
Charlie stepped forward, pulling Owen into a tight hug and Margaux whined in complaint at being squished between her dad and her self declared papa. They pulled away from each other, both boys fighting to hide their slightly flushed cheeks. 
“I’m hungry.” Margaux whined, and Charlie was snapped out of his heart eyes daze, his whole focus back on his daughter. 
“Let’s get some food into you before our plane leaves then eh.” He replied, and Margaux nodded happily. 
Feeling bold Owen grabbed onto Charlie’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It wasn’t unusual for them to do this but it was the first time doing it when they were well known enough that someone might recognise them. But neither of them really cared. They were just happy to be back together again. 
The minute they arrived in Hawaii they were met with fans. As much as he loved meeting the fans Charlie couldn’t help but sigh slightly as he tried to protect Margaux as much as he could.
It wasn’t that the fans didn’t know about Margaux, because it was a well known fact that he was a single dad, it was more that he wanted to keep her away from the spotlight. She hadn’t asked for her dad to become a well known actor, and she didn’t deserve to have her life changed because of it. He was determined to give her the most normal life possible. 
Eventually they made it to the villa house that they were staying in while in Hawaii, and after throwing their bags into their rooms it was time to have a bit of fun. 
“Swim time swim time!” Margaux sung, running laps around the living room. Kenny chuckled at the small girl, looking up at Charlie who was following closely behind her. 
“It seems like only yesterday she was a tiny two year old who cried every time you left her side.” He said, and Charlie smiled fondly, sitting down on the chair next to Kenny. 
“She’s growing up too fast.” He agreed. “I can’t believe in less than 24 hours time I’ll be a dad to a four year old.” 
Margaux tripped on the tiles, landing with a clatter, her bottom lip jutting out. Charlie jumped up, but before he could even think about moving across the room Owen was by Margaux’s side, helping her up and pulling her into a tight hug. He whispered something in her ear and Margaux giggled loudly, her fall already forgotten.
Charlie smiled softly at the scene, his heart filled with love for both the blond boy and his little princess. 
“Daddy.” Margaux called, snapping Charlie out of his daze. 
“Yeah baby?” He answered, finally making his way across the room. 
“Can we swim now?” She asked, grabbing onto his leg. Charlie subconsciously ran his hand through her soft curls.  
“Of course we can.” He replied. Margaux glanced up at Owen. 
“Papa too?” She questioned. 
“Papa too.” Charlie agreed. Margaux peered past him, her gaze landing on Kenny.
“Coming Uncle Kenny?” She asked, and Kenny laughed, standing up. 
“Coming Little Gillespie.” He replied. 
Margaux smiled contently, taking both Charlie and Owen’s hands to pull them outside towards the pool. 
She really did have every single one of them wrapped around her little finger. 
Dinner that night was special, as it was supposed to be Carolynn’s last day on the island. They decided on a joint party for her last night, as well as celebrating Margaux’s birthday a day early. 
They had headed to a tiny restaurant near their villa, and Charlie had allowed Margaux to pick whatever she wanted from the menu, not that it mattered because she chose chicken nuggets and chips anyways.
The meal was nice, and before they knew it they were arriving back at the villa. Jeremy, Carolynn and Kenny all excused themselves for bed, and Tori settled into the couch, flicking the TV on. 
“Bath and bed time baby.” Charlie told Margaux, and she pouted but obeyed, following him into the hallway. 
“Hey Char, can I ask you something?” Owen asked, trailing behind the father daughter duo, and Charlie stopped, letting Margaux run ahead to their room. 
“Anything.” He smiled. 
“Do you mind if I share your room? I know the other bed was meant to be for Margaux but-” Owen started, playing with his fingers slightly. 
“She can share with me.” Charlie cut him off. “Bed’s all yours.” Owen looked up, his eyes widening. 
“Really?” He checked. 
“Of course.” Charlie smiled. Owen grinned, throwing his arms around Charlie’s neck. 
“Thanks Char. I just didn’t really want to sleep alone.” He admitted, and Charlie squeezed him tight. 
“Any time.” He told Owen, and the blond boy pulled away with a smile, before heading off to the room he was originally going to stay in to collect his bags. 
Charlie entered the room that he and Margaux, and now Owen, were sharing, finding his daughter already snuggled into one of the beds, still wearing her dinner clothes. Charlie sighed, moving to pull her out of the bed. Owen entered the room, bags in tow, and Margaux looked up at him excitedly. 
“Papa! Are you sleeping here?” She questioned. Owen placed his bags in the corner before answering. 
“I am Miss Maggie.” He said, and Margaux cheered. 
“You don’t mind sleeping with Daddy?” Charlie checked, and Margaux shook her head, jumping up to throw her arms around Charlie’s neck. 
“Nope! More cuddles!” She stated. Charlie laughed, picking her up. 
“Exactly right. Now, it’s bath time.” He said, grabbing Margaux’s pyjamas as she clung to him. 
“Bye Papa!” Margaux called as Charlie moved to leave the room. Owen waved. 
“Bye Maggie!” He replied, matching her enthusiasm. Charlie couldn’t help but smile. 
Margaux was so lucky to have someone like Owen in her life. They both were. 
“Daddy! Wake up!” Margaux screamed, jumping on top of Charlie. He groaned, squinting as he looked up at his daughter. 
“What time is it?” He mumbled. Owen sat up in his own bed, grabbing his phone to check the time. 
“4:47am.” He informed Charlie, his voice thick with sleep. Charlie tried to ignore how sexy Owen’s morning voice was, instead focusing on his daughter. 
“Mags it’s too early to be awake.” He told her. Margaux pouted, flopping down on top of him. 
“Daddy, it’s my birthday!” She exclaimed. Charlie smiled, kissing her cheek. 
“I know baby, happy birthday. Now can we sleep for a little bit?” He tried. Margaux thought for a moment. 
“Only if Papa comes here too.” She decided. 
Charlie’s eyes widened slightly, eyes fixed on Owen as the younger boy sleepily slid out of his bed with no hesitation, and into Charlie’s, snuggling into Charlie’s side the minute he laid down. Margaux squirmed her way under the covers, squishing herself in between the two of them. 
Charlie shut his eyes in an attempt to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling, as Margaux slept soundly next to him.
His mind was racing, noticing every single little place where Owen’s warm skin was in contact with his. It felt like he was on fire.
“Stop thinking.” Owen mumbled, and Charlie turned his head to see Owen staring at him, his eyes half shut with sleep.
“How did you know?” He questioned. Owen gave him a small smile. 
“I always know. Whatever it is, just ignore it for now. Get some sleep, it’s gonna be a big day.” Owen whispered. Charlie paused for a moment, just staring at Owen in the dim light from Margaux’s nightlight. Even half asleep in the almost complete darkness of the room Owen still looked gorgeous. Charlie swallowed. 
“You’re right. Thanks O.” He replied. 
“Love you.” Owen yawned in response, his eyes shutting again. Charlie smiled softly, moving his hand to brush a bit of Owen’s hair off his face.
“I love you too Owen.” He replied, despite the fact that the younger boy was already asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to Owen’s head, and lowered his voice to no more than a whisper.
“More than I probably should.”
After what felt like no time at all Charlie was being shaken awake again. 
“Daddy is it time to get up now?” Margaux questioned, sitting on his chest. Charlie yawned. 
He reached over and checked his phone. It was just after 6:30am. 
“Okay we can get up. But we’re gonna leave Papa to sleep a little bit more, okay?” Charlie compromised. Margaux thought for a moment before agreeing. Charlie grinned, sliding the both of them out of the bed careful not to wake Owen. Once they were out of the bed Charlie lifted Margaux up, placing her on his hip. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.  
“Now. Let’s go make some birthday pancakes.” 
“Happy birthday Little Gillespie.” Jeremy sung, entering the kitchen with Carolynn close behind him.
Margaux grinned, her mouth full of pancake. 
“Thank you!” She exclaimed, her words muffled by her food. Carolynn stepped past Jeremy, moving to place a gentle kiss on Margaux’s head and whisper to her. Margaux grinned before looking up at her father.
“Hey Daddy?” She spoke. Charlie made a noise in response.
“Yeah?” He said, flipping pancakes onto a plate for both Jeremy and Carolynn.
“Do you think the birthday fairy could found me here?” Margaux questioned, her eyes full of hope. Charlie couldn’t help but smile, not even bothering to correct her words, as he placed the pan down.
“Should we go find out?” He asked. Margaux’s eyes widened in excitement.
“Yeah! But first we have to get Papa.” She decided. Charlie nodded.
“You wanna go wake him up? Tell him we made him some pancakes?” He asked, and Margaux grinned, already sliding out of her chair.
“Okay Daddy!” She replied, before rushing out of the room. The room fell silent for a few moments before Carolynn cleared her throat.
“So Charlie...” She raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been in love with Owen?” 
Charlie choked on his coffee. 
“I’m sorry, what?” He spluttered. Carolynn grinned. 
“You heard me.” She said. Charlie hesitated. 
“I’m not-” He stopped. “I-” 
He groaned. There was no use denying it if clearly he was obvious enough that his friends had figured him out.
“Since filming.” He admitted. Carolynn cheered. 
“You owe me $20.” She told her husband, who glared at Charlie. 
“You just had to admit it, huh?” Jeremy shook his head, and Charlie shrugged, a small smile on his face.
“Admit what?” Owen’s voice came from behind them, deep from sleep, and Charlie took a sip of his coffee to try to distract himself. Owen always looked good but in the early morning light, his hair still a mess from sleeping, he looked ethereal. Charlie bit his lip to stop himself from staring.
“Nothing important.” Carolynn replied, and Charlie shot her a thankful look. 
“Can we see if the birthday fairy visited now?” Margaux sighed, clearly impatient. They all laughed. 
“Of course baby.” Charlie told her, standing up. He grabbed the plate of pancakes he had made for Owen, handing them to the younger boy as he passed him. 
Margaux lead the way to the living area where Kenny and Tori were already sat waiting, squealing with excitement when she saw the small pile of presents on the table.
“They came!” She exclaimed, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile, ruffling her hair affectionately.
Margaux settled down on the couch as everyone spread out around the room, and one by one she opened the presents, eyes widening with excitement at every single one. 
Charlie had gotten her a few dolls that he knew she had been wanting, plus some new clothes, books and other toys. 
Jeremy and Carolynn had gotten her a small paint set with a Frozen paint by numbers. 
Kenny had gotten her a tiny version of the Sunset Curve shirt that the cast had all received. 
Tori had gotten her a little lilac tutu. 
Madi, Jadah and Savannah had sent their presents, some handmade earrings, little stud versions of the ghost drawings that Carolynn had created from Madi, a small pair of overalls from Savannah, and a colouring book from Jadah.
But her absolute favourite gift had come from Owen, a tan coloured bear from Build-A-Bear that he had dressed like Luke, and the clothes to change the bear into Reggie, Alex and Julie if she wanted to. 
After hugs all round the group decided to go their own ways, with Kenny heading off to spend the day relaxing, and Tori, Jeremy and Carolynn going to the beach to sunbathe since Carolynn’s flight had been delayed. 
“Where do you want to go today birthday girl?” Charlie asked, as he and Owen collected the pile of gifts to move them back to their room.
Margaux frowned in thought, the bear still grasped in her arms.
“Hiking.” She decided, and Charlie laughed. She was definitely his daughter.
“You sure? We can do whatever you want to do.” He checked. Margaux nodded, her attention focused on her new clothes that Charlie had placed on the bed to fold later. 
“I’m sure.” She said, reaching for the Sunset Curve shirt and overalls. “Can I wear this?”
“Of course you can.” Charlie agreed. 
“I’m gonna have a quick shower.” Owen said, grabbing some clothes out of his bag. Charlie nodded, focused on helping Margaux change out of her pyjamas into her new clothes.
“Do you think we can have some time tonight just you and me?” Charlie asked once Margaux was dressed, moving to grab her hairbrush and some hair ties.
“Yes please Daddy.” Margaux agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed as Charlie sat behind her.
“We could go get dinner just the two of us, and then come back here for birthday cake.” He suggested. Margaux frowned, clearly thinking. 
“Is it chocolate cake?” She asked after a moment, and Charlie paused from brushing her hair to kiss the top of her head. 
“You’ll have to wait and see.” He teased. Charlie finished tying her hair up into two little space buns, not quite proper buns but as close as he could get with her shortish hair.
“I hope it’s chocolate cake. I love chocolate cake.” She giggled, standing up on the bed and turning around to hug her father. Charlie wrapped his arms around her, a gesture that was so safe and familiar. 
“Me too baby, me too.” He agreed. Margaux snuggled her head into his shoulder. 
“Is Papa coming hiking?” She questioned. Charlie grinned to himself. 
“Do you want him to come?” He asked. Margaux didn’t even hesitate. 
“Yes.”
“Then I’m sure he’d love to come.” Charlie assured her. She pulled away. looking him in the eyes. Charlie had always loved that she had gotten his eyes. 
“Do I ask him?” She said, eyes wide. Charlie struggled to contain a laugh at how serious she looked. 
“When he comes back, yeah.” He nodded. 
“When who comes back?” Owen asked, re-entering the room. Margaux jumped up, throwing herself at the 20 year old. He lifted her up with no hesitation. 
“Are you gonna come hiking?” Margaux asked, her bottom lip jutting out in a pleading way. 
“Of course I am. Wouldn’t want to miss spending time with my two favourite people.” Owen grinned, kissing her nose causing her to giggle. Charlie’s heart skipped a beat at the declaration that he was one of Owen’s favourite people. 
“Yay! Can we go now?” Margaux turned in Owen’s arms to face her father. He nodded, standing up from the bed. 
“Shoes, and then we can go.” He said, and Margaux squirmed her way out of Owen’s arms to go find her running shoes. 
Charlie exchanged a look with Owen, the both of them thinking the same thing. 
It was going to be a long day. 
Hiking with a just turned four year old was exhausting, even despite them choosing the easiest possible trail so that she wouldn’t have any issues.
It was fine at first, Margaux excitedly looking at the plants and trying to spot any animals in the trees, but after about twenty minutes she got bored and tired, and Charlie and Owen spent the rest of the hike passing her back and forth between the two of them.
Finally they made it back to the villa, and after a quick stop for lunch Margaux was recharged and ready for the rest of the day.
“Can we swim?” She asked. Charlie nodded.
“We’ll go and get changed, and then we can go in the pool for a while until we have to get ready for dinner, okay?” He suggested. 
“Okay Daddy.” Margaux smiled sweetly. 
-
After quickly changing into their swimmers, Charlie, Margaux and Owen ended up in the pool, Jeremy and Carolynn lounging nearby. 
They swam for a few hours until Margaux got thirsty, and with a promise of apple juice she and Charlie climbed out of the pool leaving Owen to go sit with the Shada’s. 
Charlie walked inside the villa, finding Kenny sat at the kitchen bench reading while Tori lounged on one of the couches, staring at her phone. 
“Why don’t we do cake now, so that you don’t have to worry about rushing home?” Kenny spoke up, as Charlie manoeuvred through the kitchen to get the apple juice out, Margaux clinging to his chest like a baby koala. 
“That’s a good idea. Do you want to do your birthday cake now Mags?” Charlie asked his daughter, pouring her some apple juice. She sipped on the juice, looking up at him with wide eyes. 
“Yeah!” She exclaimed. Charlie smiled. 
“Okay, can you go get Papa, Aunty Care and Uncle Jer for me?” He asked, placing her down. She nodded eagerly, handing her cup of juice to him before rushing outside to where Owen, Jeremy and Carolynn were still sat.
Charlie grabbed the cake out of the fridge and placed it on the bench, before putting the four candles in, and grabbing a lighter.
“Have you seen my camera Kenny?” He asked, and Kenny just pointed to the end of the bench where the camera was sitting. Charlie smiled gratefully, grabbing the camera.
“Want me to take photos?” Tori offered, and Charlie nodded, handing her the camera. 
Margaux re-entered the room, Owen and the Shada’s following close behind her, and when she reached her father he lifted her up. Kenny took the lighter, lighting the candles on the cake and together they sung Happy Birthday to Margaux, Tori snapping photos as the four year old blew out her candles. 
Charlie held Margaux close to him as Kenny divided the cake up, thankful that he had such an amazing family to spend his little girl’s birthday with. 
-
When Charlie and Margaux made it back to the villa after their dinner that night, the newly four year old was ready to fall asleep. Charlie carried her to bed, silently thanking his past self for deciding to give her a bath and do her birthday cake before they went to dinner because now all he had to do was change her into her pyjamas. 
He changed her quickly seeing that she was almost asleep, and tucked her into the bed. 
“Did you have a good birthday baby?” Charlie asked softly, settling down next to his daughter.
Margaux just nodded in response. 
“That’s good.” Charlie ran a hand through her curls. “Goodnight baby girl.” 
“Big girl.” Margaux mumbled sleepily. Charlie smiled, leaning down and kissing her head. 
“You might be a big girl now but you’ll always be my baby girl.” He whispered. “I love you.” 
“I love you too Daddy.” Margaux replied, her eyes already shut and her arms wrapped tightly around her new bear. Charlie stood up slowly and headed to the door, leaving it open a crack for a little bit of light to shine in. 
He paused for a moment, just taking in the reality that Margaux was already four years old, and that she was growing up too fast. With one last look at the door he made his way down the hallway and outside to where he knew Owen was waiting. 
“She’s asleep.” He announced, flopping down on the outdoor sofa next to Owen. 
“I’m not shocked, she’s had a big day.” Owen replied, handing Charlie a cold beer that he had clearly gotten for him. Charlie took it thankfully, taking a large swig. 
“Can you believe that she’s four already? It feels like she was only just born and I was waking up to find out that her mother was gone and that it was only me and her. It was terrifying at the time, but looking back I wouldn’t change it for the world.” He rambled. Owen rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder and Charlie wrapped his arm around the younger boy, pulling him closer.
“You should be proud of yourself Char. You’ve done an amazing job.” Owen complimented, snuggling closer to Charlie as he took a mouthful of his beer.
“You think so?” Charlie questioned. Owen nodded against his shoulder.
“I know so.” He sat up. “Margaux is the most well behaved kid I’ve ever met, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her misbehave once in all the time I’ve known her. She’s an amazing kid and it’s all because she has the most amazing father.”
“Thank you.” Charlie whispered, suddenly realising how close Owen was to him. He could feel Owen’s warm breath on his lips, and he found himself leaning in, the urge to kiss Owen overtaking his entire being. His lips brushed against Owen’s ever so slightly, but before they could properly commit to the kiss they were interrupted. 
“Hey, we’re gonna play...” Tori’s voice came and they jumped apart quickly. She trailed off, eyeing them carefully. “Were you two about to kiss?”
Charlie cleared his throat. Owen’s eyes widened.
“Uh... no?” Owen lied. Tori shot them a suspicious look but clearly decided against pushing.
“Right... well we’re gonna play Cards Against Humanity if you want to join us.” She told them, before turning and heading back inside. Neither Charlie nor Owen moved, the silence was deafening. Finally Owen spoke.
“Sorry.” He muttered quickly, before standing up and rushing inside. Charlie groaned, watching him leave, the feeling of Owen’s lips still lingering on his own.
“Fuck.” He sighed, downing the last of his beer before standing up to join the rest of the group inside.
He would have to deal with the Owen situation later.
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chryzure-archive · 2 years
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Question: What is severance 030
OH GIRL. OH MY GOD. OHHHH MY GOD.
So Severance is a thriller TV show set in an office space where the employees are “severed”—meaning that they basically have an “office-sona”, if I were to describe this in the worst way possible. Basically, this means that they have a chip in their brain that splits them into another person (same personality, but no memories of the outside world) for the work day, called an “innie”. This is activated when they go down their elevator to work, and they are absolutely, positively, certainly not allowed to know anything about the outside world. They were made to work for eight hours of the day, and then they come back down and work again. Their consciousness resumes from where it’s left off at the end of the last work day—so essentially these “innies” never sleep and always work.
They don’t know their full names (for example, the main character’s innie name is simply “Mark S.”) nor do they know what their lives are remotely like on the outside. They have limited coworkers (their underground office space is designed like a labyrinth and the other divisions are hidden away, so they aren’t allowed to interact with them if they don’t get permission) and they work the most menial office job type of thing. Our main characters “refine data”, which basically means sorting numbers.
Their outies don’t recall any of what happens down there. So if their innie hates their job? Too bad, the outie doesn’t experience the horrible work conditions. They still want to get paid and go to work. You can technically request your outie to quit the job, but if they don’t know what it’s like… why would they want to leave? And besides, if they do permanently quit… that basically means the innie dies. They’re never brought back. They lose all of that. It’s really scary, actually.
Meanwhile… man, I cannot explain a thing outside of the premise if you want to end up watching it, because the timelines get weird when you realize the innie and outie timelines are different. But the innies basically start wondering how to get out, what’s going on, and how to let the outside world know that, actually, being severed is hell for the innies. (It’s a political debate in this world, and it’s highly divisive (lol). There’s some messed up thoughts people have about innies—for example, a woman uses her innie to give birth to her child so she doesn’t have to experience the pain of it. It’s really, really horrifying. That’s a bit of a spoiler, but it’s not that big.)
Also, because of the way the office space is set up, it’s very… cult-like. The instruction manuals are written like Bibles, and there’s paintings put up on the bland office walls for propaganda purposes.
There’s a characters that’s super obsessed with the main character that’s his boss (she’s not severed) and she also lives right next to him. All of it is horrible.
Christopher Walken falls in love with John Tuturro.
It’s amazing.
I watched all of it yesterday (about 8-ish hours, give or take RIP) because once I started the first episode, I was captivated by the world building and the acting (seeing Adam Scott play something serious shocked me! As did the fact that Ben Stiller directed more than half of the episodes).
Basically, I went in thinking I’d just enjoy it because my friend liked it, then before she hit unpause, she turned to me and went, “Hey, Rebecca, this would make a great Chryzure/ChrysiJacks AU.” To which I responded: “Pardon me????”
But yep, it makes a fucking phenomenal Chryzure/ChrysiJacks AU. I’ve sketched out four AU drawings already. I finished it at 11 PM last night. My friend and I are going for boba to talk about the show more in depth. I’m going to watch it again.
It’s on Apple TV, I believe, and it’s so, so worth it.
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jawritter · 3 years
Text
Twelve Days Of Christmas
Chapter 12 (final)
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Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Written For: @spnchristmasbingo​​​​​​
Square Field: First Christmas Together
Word Count: 2046
Warnings: Fluff
A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol  This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!
**SERIES MASTERLIST** **MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**
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The little cabin was quiet and still. Only the sounds of Dean's light breaths next to you could be heard over the wind that would occasionally whip around the corners of the small house. 
It was peaceful here. 
Dean's sleep warm body wrapped around yours provided better warmth than an electric blanket. The steady rise and fall of his chest against your back was a soothing, constant, lulling rhythm that could easily pull you back into sleep's embrace. 
A large, freckled hand was wrapped around your own and pressed against your chest as he held you protectively against whatever may come, and one long bowed leg was still tangled in your own. 
If someone would have told you that when you died this would be your heaven, you would have believed them. This was the happiest, and most content you had ever been in your life. Just right here, wrapped in Dean's arms. You would stay right here for eternity and be glad of it. 
You knew that you couldn't because Dean was starting to stir next to you. Little grunts leaving his lips as he nuzzled his way into your hair, tightening his grip around you. You smiled a little as you turned in his hold to find a pair of sleepy, green eyes staring back at you. 
How is it that someone was this breathtaking in the morning? 
"Morning," he mumbled, brushing your hair away from your face before lightly brushing his lips over your own. 
"Morning."
The shrill sound of a phone ringing pierced through your little happy bubble, and Dean turned with a growl, grabbing the phone murmuring swear words as he read the name that was shining too brightly on the scream.
"Sammy," Dean grumbled, placing the phone on speaker, and sitting it on the bed next to you before wrapping his arm tightly around you again. 
"Hey guys, I hate to bother you, but I think I have a case and it's a little big for just Eileen and myself," Sam said, and Dean's brow furrowed as he looked at the phone's screen as if he could see through it. 
"Whatcha got?" Dean questioned as you both sat up slowly. 
"I can't be sure, but it looks like a group of Changeling might be infesting a community near Vancouver, Washington. It's the biggest infestation I've ever seen, bigger than any gathered of them we've ever encountered before, and we could really use your help with this one."
Dean and yourself share a look that can only be described as dread. If there was one thing you both hated, it was any hunt that had to do with children. 
"I'm sorry guys, I know it's only Christmas Eve, and you guys planned on staying until Christmas. We tried a few other hunters before I called you, and none of them would be able to make it."
Dean let out an exasperated sigh, "Did you call Jules or Stevie?" 
"Yup, they're hunting a Werewolf pack near Denver."
You could see Dean visibly getting frustrated. You knew he wanted to see this through until Christmas, but you also knew Dean well enough to know that he desperately wanted to help his little brother with this hunt. It's what he did, it's what he lived for. Saving people, hunting things. 
"We'll be there Sam, but it's going to take us at least a half day’s drive to get back to the bunker," you tell him, and Dean turns his gaze on you with an unreadable expression on his face. 
"That's fine, we will plan to leave out in the morning. That gives you guys time to get back to Kansas, and it gives me a little more time to contact witnesses and the police report, see if I can get a handle on the size of their little nest before we break off in the middle of it."
"Sounds great, Sammy, we will see you guys tonight," Dean says,, disconnecting the call and taking a deep breath before turning to you. 
"Looks like life demands we get back to work. I'm sorry we couldn't stay all the way through Christmas sweetheart, I really wanted to make it special for you this year."
Before Dean could get too deep into his self-loathing, you slip your way into his lap, forcing him to look at you. 
"Dean, you have no idea just how special you have made this Christmas for me. Hell, you have given me everything I could have ever wanted. I will never forget the time we spent together here."
Dean smiled softly at you capturing your lips in a quick kiss before pulling you down to lay on his chest. His fingers trailing through your hair, and relishing in the last few seconds of paradise he had left with you. 
"We could make this our little tradition ya know. Driving down here every year, just the two of us, spending time together."
His fingertips trailed their way lightly up your back, and you shiver with the memories that flooded you from yesterday, and most of last night. A smile appeared on your face, and you looked up to place a kiss on his stubble covered jawline. 
"That sounds amazing."
Without warning, Dean quickly unwraps you from him, and jumps out of the bed, quickly crossing the room to his duffle, and pulling out a small wrapped gift before climbing back in bed with you, handing it to you, and pulling the covers back over his lap. 
"I was gonna wait until Christmas morning, but since we won't be here…"
You give him a quizzical look before tearing the paper away, revealing a little black velvet box. Your heart started to pound in your chest as possibilities of what this could be flooded your mind, and you force yourself to open the box with trembling hands. 
Inside the box was a sing gold band, with one little diamond nestled on the top. You look at him with a confused look and Dean removes the small ring, placing it on your right ring finger.  
"It was my mom,'s" he breathed, turning the ring over between your fingers and admiring it on your hand. "She didn't even know I had it, or that dad had kept it." 
"I'm not proposing today, I mean hell we just got together,” he laughed. “This is just a promise that one day I'm gonna get us out of the life, and we're gonna make our own life together. I want to give you the life you deserve if you will have me. Things are slowed down now, hunts we have to go on are rare, after the end of this year it's time to focus on us. I’m not a young man anymore. I’m pushing my luck every time I go on a hunt. I’m lucky to be still here. I want to change my focus for once in my life." 
Tears were falling freely as you looked deep into his forest green eyes that were swimming with their own emotions, there was nothing you wanted more than a life with this man. Sure, you had just started your relationship, but there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you loved him, and you always would. 
Throwing your arms around his neck with enough force to knock a grunt out of him, you crashed your lips to his, throwing everything you had into it because sometimes words just aren’t enough.
When you finally broke apart your forehead resting against his. You made up your mind, it was time. 
“Dean, this is going to be my last hunt,” you tell him, and watch as he sets up slowly, looking at you with confusions deep in his eyes, maybe even a hint of fear. 
“I want this with you, and if that’s going to happen, the only way we’re going to walk away is to just do it. We’re not getting any younger, and I want to focus on you. I will still travel with you and help with research as long as you decide to hunt, but It’s time I shift my focus as well. I love you Dean, and I don’t want to risk my life hunting anymore when I have someone at home worth living for.”
You watch the relief flood his face as he pulls you into him, burying his face in your neck, and holding you as if you were going to disappear if he let you. “I love you so my Y/N, I always have, I was just too afraid to say it. After this hunt I’m going to start stepping back as well, it’s time.”
As the two of you drove down the road not more than three hours after Sam’s phone call, your heart had never been so full in your life. Dean had given you more than you ever thought you would be lucky enough to have in your life. He’d given you himself, and even though life came calling early, you would forever cherish your time here with Dean. 
You were already looking forward to next year when you were able to return for another 12 days. Life was already setting up for a lot of changes like it often did, but this time you were facing that change with hope of tomorrow and not dread of what was to come. 
But tomorrow would no doubt come with its own problems. It was best to take things one day at a time, and you would undoubtedly spend your first Christmas together saving people and hunting things. You could think of no better way to do it either.
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Forever Tags: 
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Series Tag List: 
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