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justapurrcat · 2 years

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Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans | t.s.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!hiking guide!reader

Synopsys: Finally free after a particularly demanding project, Tom is looking forward to enjoying a well deserved holiday of sweet idleness… until a local hiking guide catches his attention, throwing all his purposes out of the window.

Word Count: 10.277k

Warnings: English not being my first language, disgusting fluff, a pinch of angst because it’s me, shameless love at first sight, an easter egg maybe, Tom being stupid~

Group Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/n: I’m super late with this one, but here it is, my work for @tshwritersnet’s summer writing challenge! While I’m not the biggest fan of how the result turned out, I had a lot of fun writing this (what can I say? I thoroughly enjoy having my leading men, especially Tom, do foolish things in the name of love...) and I really hope you will like it! 💜 please, consider letting me know what you think, feedback is always greatly appreciated! 💜

After leaving for college, coming back here for your summer holidays had become a religion for you, and even after so many years, the Bed and Breakfast owned by your uncles still remained one of your favourite places, with a special mention to its garden: you practically considered it the ‘symbol’ of your childhood, given all the time you had spent playing in there, waiting for your parents to come home in the evening.

It wasn’t a grand or highly renowned one, but it was beautiful and the same could be said about the building itself. It was a quite ancient edifice, no one would’ve given it the light of the day on a first look, but everyone fell in love with it the second they walked through the door.

The familiar rich scent of roses and jasmine, the very same ones your aunt had planted with your help, blended perfectly with the citrus aroma of the trees thriving in the backyard. It was so intense and captivating you could smell it from the outside, your heart growing at least two sizes because of that.

You were home.

And you were in a good mood, your heart still on cloud nine after having convinced itself you had met the love of your life on that very same day. Granted, not knowing his name nor how to find him again might’ve been quite a substantial hurdle – in hindsight, getting hit by Cupid’s arrow had made you kinda stupid –, but you didn’t want to think of bad things now: this was a small place, you could get lucky again…

But you were digressing.

“Hey, old man!”, you greeted cheerfully, bursting into the hall with a toothy smile and open arms, ready to crack your poor victim uncle’s bones with one of your devastating bear hugs, just like you had done with your aunt. It was the bare minimum after not seeing them for so long.

But your excitement died as soon as you took in the scene in front of you: no less than six strangers and a blue Staffy, most certainly a family, standing right by the reception desk, each one of them interrupting their current actions to turn their heads in your direction all at once, a surprised – which was an euphemism – look on their faces.

“Oh…”, was all you could let out, your palms beginning to sweat like crazy.

They had to be a last minute arrival, and you were pretty sure they hadn’t even booked their stay, since your aunt had reassured you that you were not going to bother, since there were no planned check-ins for the rest of the day. Which was the reason behind your rather informal – now turned ridiculous – entrance…

And then, of course, there was your uncle, the only one who didn’t bat an eyelash, too happy to see the niece he loved like a daughter to care. “Kiddo!”, he exclaimed, waving his hand with enthusiasm, and you thanked your good star that he didn’t call you ‘frog’ the way he did when you were a prepubescent girl who read too many W.I.T.C.H. comics.

“Come over”, he gestured for you to get closer, then returned his attention to his guests, quickly apologising for the abrupt interruption.

They all graciously reassured him, the older man – the father, you assumed – even making a joke on how hard to deal with young adults could be. Not exactly your kind of humour, to be honest, but so be it: you weren’t in the right state of mind to pay the due amount of attention to it.

Also because, in addition to all that was going on in your mind, you had also recognized a certain face among that group.

It was the cute guy you had met at the beach only a few hours earlier, those big soft brown eyes and the cute unruly curl falling back onto his forehead forever engraved in the back of your mind making it impossible to forget about him.

To be fair, you also remembered the impressively sharp jawline and his insanely gorgeous hands, with long fingers you would’ve loved to fit a glove, but those were way less romantic details to mention when ranting to your best friend about an idiotic circumstance of love at first sight, in which chatting with him for only a few minutes had felt like knowing him all your life.

Oh shit, from frying pan into the fire…

“I’m sorry…”, you gulped, quickly looking for an excuse to vanish as soon as humanly possible. You had been wishing to meet him again and that was what Fate had planned for you? You refused to believe it.

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, I can come back later–”

“It’s alright, dear”, the red-haired woman kindly smiled at you, and despite your previous gaffe, it was a nice gesture that didn’t appear as if she was doing it out of pity. It was a simple thing, but at least it reduced your discomfort a little.

You returned her smile, trying to figure out why she looked kinda familiar as well, even though you were pretty sure you had only met her son… in fact, all of the family (dog included, of course) was giving you that unusual vibe. The cute guy himself had given you that unusual vibe on that very same morning…

“y/n is my niece”, your uncle announced proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders when you finally reached the desk.

You opted for a simple bow of the head as a silent way to say hello, not really wanting to worsen the situation. You had been lucky, better not to push it.

“Enjoying your holidays, young lady?”, the older man asked you and the faint hope you had of ceasing to be the object of the conversation turned to dust in front of your eyes. Because if you knew your uncle well enough…

“Not really”, he chipped in, jumping at the occasion to promote you. You loved him, you really did, and you understood he was doing it for your own good, but sometimes he really couldn’t read the room…

“Apparently, keeping her nose stuck in books for almost an entire year isn’t enough”, he continued. “She has to spend her summer getting lost in the woods.”

“I’m a hiking guide”, you rushed to explain, understanding your uncle’s intentions: he had purposely formulated a weird sentence just so that he could get you to talk and clear things up. Typical of that side of the family. “It’s my summer job.”

You were trying your best not to look directly at him, but your willpower seemed to keep failing you every once in a while: as a consequence, you didn’t miss the way his eyes went wide and his head snapped up, the curls bouncing adorably, when you mentioned your seasonal activity.

“We tried to convince her to work here with us: she’s great with clients, but it would’ve been a waste”, your uncle added, the slight regret in his tone mixing with pride. “These places need a good guide and she knows them like the back of her hand”, he announced, patting right between your shoulder blades and almost taking your breath away. For a not-so-young-anymore man, he was still quite strong.

“Authentic autochthonous blood here.”

You elbowed him in the ribs as an affectionate little revenge, your interactions with him and the surprisingly interested looks of the numerous family easing your pressure: maybe they weren’t thinking of your stupid entrance anymore.

“What can I say? I learned from the best”, you replied, not wanting to take all the credit for it, since he had literally taught you everything you knew.

“That’s music for my ears!”

Your head turned, following the direction of that voice, the movement way faster than you would’ve wanted it to be.

The guy you had met at the beach stared back at you, carelessly pushing one of his brothers aside to take a few steps forward. “I’ve literally been pestering my entire family to come here for that”, he said, the statement earning him a few perplexed blinks and tilts of the head from the rest of his family.

Not that you noticed, of course, far too gone in the hypnotizing fantasy his soothing voice elicited in your mind. Fuck, were you really that gullible?

Tom, on the other hand, noticed each single one of them.

“What?”, Harry questioned, arching an eyebrow. “Hiking?”

“Didn’t you say th–”

But Sam’s sentence was brutally cut off by an overly enthusiastic Tom. “That I’m dying to hit those paths”, the eldest declared firmly, his chirpy tone releasing a secret threatening aura in its echo. To anyone but you, of course. “I can’t wait. I love hiking!”

That wasn’t a lie: Tom loved being active and spending time outdoors, even better if immersed in nature.

However, he had just finished working on a pretty intense project that had taken a huge physical toll on him: the role had required him to lose quite a lot of weight and to look lean, almost fragile he would have dared to say, so he had been following a strict diet and significantly reduced his gym time.

And ever since he had set foot back home, he had been pestering his entire family – that part was painfully true. Only not about hiking. Hell, he didn’t even know the place they were going to was famous for its hiking paths up until now.

The only request he had made while they were still choosing where to go, was ‘a quiet, silent, private place, so preferably a small one, thank you very much’. He had barely paid any attention to Harry’s announcement regarding having found ‘the perfect place’.

“It has mountains, and the sea, and it’s quiet and then there are hiking paths and there’s a small Bed & Breakfast that might be just right for us, though I suggest not booking in advance, so our presence there doesn’t get leaked even before we get there or some shit like that…”

Tom had mindlessly hummed his approval, then stopped listening to him after ‘quiet’, the only word he really wanted to hear, completely missing the part that would’ve caused his healthier and much more energetic self to freak out from excitement.

For the last couple of days, his favourite topic had actually been how he would’ve spent this whole vacation doing absolutely nothing, sleeping in his bed, sleeping on the sand, sleeping on pool rafts, even sleeping on the flight to get there, which of course he had done.

That was what he had been pestering his family about, because Tom craved sleep. The dark bags under his eyes, his sagging shoulders and the lack of strength in his movements could testify it.

He hadn’t even resumed working out, a well deserved period of immaculate rest being all he could think of, so it was needless to say that he wasn’t prepared to walk in the slightest, let alone to hike.

But this was Fate reaching out, serving him the perfect occasion on a silver plate and how could Tom refuse it?

The smile you gave him felt like a thousand fireflies – not butterflies, fireflies – got released in Tom’s chest, filling it with such warmth and light it almost brought tears to his eyes. He was so whipped he couldn’t even tell himself to get his shit together.

While he was struggling not to pat his own shoulder for the brilliant idea his brain had just come up with, you were undergoing a similar type of struggle, the only difference consisting in the reason moving it: you needed to be serious, to look professional and reliable, while all you wanted to do was jump up and down for the entire hall giggling like a little kid and revelling in your unexpected luck.

After that, you were no longer going to complain about Fate’s plans regarding your sentimental life.

You cleared your throat and raised your chin, taking a step towards him. “Well you’ve found the right person, Sir”, you said, holding out your hand to him, the confidence in the gesture masking the fact that you were hoping it wouldn’t get sweaty.

The cute boy from the beach – he was so pretty you might’ve believed he was a merman, your mind briefly fleeting back to that local tale about a girl finding her soulmate to be no less than the King of the Ocean – smiled back at you, reaching out and squeezing your hand with no hesitation.

“Tom”, he introduced himself. “Please, call me Tom, y/n.”

Your name on his lips, his fingers touching yours, the hint of wink he sent your way… it was too much to handle.

As soon as your hands parted, your left one came up to your lobe, pretending to fix something about your earring, while in reality, you were just playing with it. It was an old habit of yours you had never found the way to get rid off.

From the outside, it looked like nothing but a casual mannerism, but you knew it was your heart’s personal method of letting your brain know that you were fucked.

Tom, you repeated it in your mind, looking forward to whispering it in the dim-light of your bedroom, later that evening, lying on that tiny mattress with your hand right above your heart.

Tom…

You could already picture that, practically witnessing yourself connecting those letters to every fibre of the muscle, tailoring its beat to that single syllable, while surrounded by flowers scent and inebriated on the enchanting afterglow his presence had gently laid upon you like it was a golden veil.

… and okay, to be completely honest, there might have been some room left to slip three fingers into your panties.

And honestly, no one could’ve blamed you for it. Not when he was standing there, with that charming smile, those dimples and that accent and–

Wait a second.

… and that was when it clicked.

Holy fucking shit, you were talking to Tom Holland.

“This is by far the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done.”

Tom rolled his eyes at Harry’s sentence, deeply offended at his brother’s lack of faith in his brilliant strategy. “Wow, thanks for the support.”

“I beg to differ”, Sam spoke up as he lazily pushed the shopping cart to keep up with the others. Tom was the one who had dragged them there, but of course, he had to be the one doing all the work. Of course. Because his movie star brother needed to buy things, but was ‘too tired’. Of course.

“See?”, Tom gloated, satisfied that he could rub it in Harry’s face. “That’s how a supportive brother’s supposed to act!”

Too bad this time he hadn’t taken into consideration that Sam might have been his brother, but he remained Harry’s twin, after all…

“He hasn’t done it yet”, Sam pointed out. “So, I would say this is the most idiotic decision he’s ever made.”

Tom’s smirk fell from his face all at once, like the corners of his mouth had been hanging by thin threads that his brother’s betrayal had brutally cut off. The other spawn of the Devil’s silent, yet eloquent bragging gaze added insult to injury.

Yeah, those two were definitely made of the exact same wicked, dreamless, heartless substance. So much for sibling’s love and brotherhood.

“Okay, fuck off. The both of you”, he spat, turning his back to them.

“It’s not our fault you’re a div”, Harry said simply.

“That’s it”, Tom raised his voice, as if that could silence him, at least in his mind. “I’m done listening to you.”

All he got in response was a scoff and a dry: “As if you ever bothered to…”

“And look how good that turned out to be for me”, Tom quipped back. “I’m famous, rich, and hot.”

Harry rolled his eyes at him. “Don’t forget modest.”

“Keep that attitude and I’m firing you.”

“Fine”, Harry agreed smugly. “Good luck figuring out which foot goes first when walking.”

“The one that will be shoved up your ass if you don’t quit it.”

Before Harry could reply and somehow make it even worse, Sam decided that it was time to stop making fun of the idiot his brother and actually try to knock some sense into that thick head of his. “Tom”, he intervened, trying to make clear that he was abandoning every hostility. “Come on, mate, you’ve met this girl once–”

“Twice”, Tom corrected him as if he had just heard an unspeakable profanity and Sam had to fight many urges all at once: resorting to annihilating sarcasm was on top of the list, but slapping his brother senseless was a close second.

“Okay, twice, if we count this morning”, he conceded, struggling to sound and appear calm: dealing with a stupid love-sick – had he mentioned insanely stupid? – full-grown adult while coming from a family which wasn’t exactly known for being slow to anger was exhausting. And he wasn’t even the eldest.

I’m too young for this shit.

“But still”, he tried to reason with him. “Don’t you think this is a little too much?”

Tom stopped abruptly and turned around, a terrifying determination burning in his eyes. “Nothing is too much when it’s about true love.”

Like he hadn’t even heard that, Harry ignored him completely: he had already made the wise choice of no longer being involved in this. He was on vacation, too, for fuck’s sake!

Sam wasn’t of the same opinion, his jaw dropping to the floor, his heart skipping a beat and not in the good way. “Oh my–”, he wheezed, running a nervous hand through his locks and tugging at them, and regretting not joining – more like running away with – Paddy as soon as he had announced he would go to the beach. “Tom, you don’t even know her!”

That didn’t impact Tom’s judgement in the slightest, a dreamy smile making its way to his lips, something that would’ve made his entire fandom go over-the-moon crazy, but that only scared the shit out of Sam.

“I have the rest of my life to find out.”

“And what if she doesn’t like you?”, Sam argued. “You know relationship aren’t made by just one person, right? It could happen.”

A few creases formed on Tom’s forehead, his smile giving way to a focused expression, indicating that, as much as he liked basking in the fantasy of you keeping him forever, he was actually taking that hypothesis into consideration.

“Then I know I’m never gonna love again”, he concluded after a while.

No, Sam wasn’t just scared, he was horrified. He stood there, watching Tom walk away, unable to take another step, as if his soles of the shoes had been glued to the floor. Until Harry passed by him with the cart.

“That was from Big Fish”, was all his twin muttered with a shrug of his shoulders, when he looked at him in a silent cry for help. “The ‘rest of his life’ bit, I mean”, he explained. “He wants to act like this crazy-for-love hero and he’s not even original…”

Sam looked at Tom, then again back at Harry, a disheartened expression on his face. “Have you ever seen him like this?”

“Frankly, I hoped I’d never have to.”

“I’m serious”, Sam insisted. “I’m worried.”

“And I’m disgusted”, Harry said in a plain tone, picking up an item and examining it, seeming totally detached from what was going on in a way that made Sam feel torn between shock and envy.

“Right”, Tom spoke up, catching his brothers’ attention. “Here we are.”

Sam gulped, afraid to ask what ‘here’ implied, but in the end he found the courage to do it. What could be wrong in a glimpse of hope? “What are we looking for?”

“Hiking equipment.”

“I give up.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckingshit.

If someone had seen him – and thank God they didn’t, because it was so early that basically no one seemed to be around yet –, they would’ve thought Tom was running for his life. Which, at least in his perspective, was nothing less than the absolute truth.

He was almost going to be late. This was supposed to be the most perfect day, the date of a lifetime, the start of a completely new era and he was almost fucking going to be fucking late. Fuck.

And on top of that, Tom felt like he had never committed so many stupid mistakes one after the other. That was a new kind of sad record.

Only the night before, he was convinced he had prepared every single detail to perfection: brand new hiking shoes, comfortable clothes, sunglasses, his beloved Knockemstiff cap – for good luck –, sunscreen… still, he had somehow found the way to mess up.

The sleeping time had been so little he wondered if he had slept at all, and he was pretty sure the answer was no, since he couldn’t remember doing anything else that wasn’t daydreaming of the upcoming encounter. And of you, of course. Which, while in the moment sounded indeed very tempting, had turned out to be an unfortunate choice.

Said unfortunate choice had sent him into a spiral of desperation the second he had discovered those dark bags under his eyes: it had taken him an urgent FaceTime call with Rachael – with a lot of patience on her part, despite the ungodly hour –, almost thirty minutes and a good amount of concealer to finally stop looking like a bunch of bullies had ganged up upon him.

But as soon as he had fixed that problem, another one had come up: the time to get ready was significantly less than he had originally planned, and everything had been rushed, if not straight up forgotten.

So now he was going to face a hiking trip in the sun without a hat, sunscreen, nor glasses, having skipped breakfast, and with shoes that would’ve been the ideal, but were still in their stupid full break-in period.

The only positive thing was that his backpack was very light… the sole reason behind it being that half of the stuff that should’ve been there wasn’t.

His muscles were begging for mercy, his lungs quite not so figuratively on fire, like every breath was filling them with unbearably scorching air. But still, he didn’t slow down, pushing his body to its limit.

No. No, he couldn’t fuck this up.

Then he saw it: a cute lilac bucket hat was the first detail that brought your figure into view and his heart swelled inside his chest. You had your back turned to him, but Tom knew it was you even before he got to see your face, and not just because you had previously made plans to meet up at that time and place.

He didn’t know how to explain it, but he just knew from that small detail. Something foreign, yet inexplicably familiar – was he getting a Peter tingle in real life? Was this the sign that he had been playing Spider-Man for too long he was letting it consume his existence? –, was somehow making him aware of your presence in a way that he had never experienced before, as if you had been an extension of his soul, or more appropriately, he had been one of yours.

… or maybe he was just projecting because he was so worn out he was getting delirious. That could’ve been a valid explanation.

His crazy run gradually died out, morphing into a more relaxed walk: he had made it, he had got there on time, now he just needed to act like he had everything under control. Like he hadn’t been on the verge of a panic attack up until a few seconds earlier.

Tom quickly fished his water bottle and some tissues out of his backpack, using them to freshen up a bit before approaching you. It was hot, and he was going to get sweaty anyways, but first impressions did matter.

He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times as a final touch, then, after deciding that it could do, he inhaled deeply – he definitely needed it – and cleared his throat.

“Hey!”

You promptly turned around and if the word ‘radiant’ had been a person, your photo would’ve been slapped under the term definition on the encyclopaedia.

“Hey there!”, you waved at him, your heart bouncing happily like a kid having the time of their life on a trampoline. “You okay?”, you asked as he got closer, the slight red flush on his cheeks not going completely unnoticed by your eyes, despite the bubble pink filter clouding them.

“I’m great!”, Tom nodded as convincingly as he could – acting classes, baby – then rapidly looked for something else, a different topic to occupy your attention with. “Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“Oh no, it’s fine”, you reassured him with a light shake of your head. “I just got here.” That one was a blatant lie, since you had arrived there almost half an hour in advance.

You wouldn’t have considered punctuality to be one of your strong suits, but anxiety usually compensated it quite well and that was exactly what had happened, with you waking up on your own thirty minutes before the alarm.

There was no need for Tom to know that, though.

“So… ready?”

“I was born ready, darling”, he confirmed, subtly waggling his unruly eyebrow at you and your stomach joined your heart on that carousel.

“Good, loving the spirit.” And loving that cute brow. “Wait…”, you paused, detecting the absence of something from his attire. “Where’s your hat?”

“My hat?”, Tom echoed you, transforming the initial gesture of touching his head into a less suspicious scratch of the back of his neck. “Oh… I didn’t bring one.”

“You wanna go back and get it? Or we can stop and buy one?”, you offered. “They sell them right–”

“No”, Tom cut you off, maybe a little more harshly than he wanted to. “Nonono, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”, you made another attempt, not wanting to put him at risk. A hat was one of the first things you always suggested to bring and you distinctly remembered doing the same while giving him instructions. It worried you a bit that he hadn’t followed your advice. “The sun is quite strong today.”

“It’s okay, darling, really”, Tom insisted, trying to convince both you and his mind. He couldn’t have you think of him as an idiot who kept forgetting stuff right and left. Which he was, by the way, but he absolutely couldn’t let that happen. That was when he decided to go all the way with it.

“Hats have been kinda bothering me, lately.” His heart broke a little, his beloved collection of hats of any sort wincing in pain because of that betrayal. But they would have to endure it, he decided: in case the room in his heart hadn’t been enough for you, he would’ve made more in his closet.

“So, don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh… okay.” You weren’t exactly persuaded, but that was your word against his, and you didn’t wanna come off as overbearing. “Well, as long as you wore sunscreen, you won’t have any problems”, you informed him, positive to have ended that exchange on a good note. “Shall we go?”

Tom remained frozen for a few seconds, his lips getting thinner and turning upwards as his mind travelled back to the brand new bottle of sunscreen sitting still unopened on his nightstand.

Then he finally snapped out of it. “Lead the way, darling.”

Surely, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

It was the absolute fucking worst and he wanted to die.

His brother’s voice kept replaying in his mind, a bunch of ‘This is suicide, and not even that figuratively’ and ‘I told you so, idiot’ fighting for dominance carrying the banner of regret and shame.

If his morning tour-the-force had been a challenge for his body – Harry had teased him about contacting Vogue and proposing a the idea of a ‘GRWM while I’m in a Rush’ video –, this hike was straight up annihilating it, to the point he started to think he would disintegrate by the end of it, turning to dust and leaving no trace behind.

Okay, maybe that was a bit too much, but he was pretty sure his feet would start bleeding anytime soon.

The only easy part about that pretence had been interacting with you: with every passing minute he felt himself falling harder and harder. From the outside, no one would’ve been able to tell that the two of you weren’t close friends, but instead two strangers spending time together (alone) only for the second time.

Chatting with you felt as natural as breathing and that did nothing but improve his first impressions, confirming you were it for him. You had to be.

And he would’ve loved to talk with you even more – he didn’t really know if that could be physically possible, but whatever –, hadn’t it been for his current shortness of breath.

Thankfully, once you reached a lovely little meadow – ‘careful, there are fairies here’ –, you proposed a water break and he gladly accepted. Playing it off as if he considered it a reasonable idea and not a desperately needed lifesaving miracle, ça va sans dire.

So you used the remaining of a fallen tree as a bench, sitting a tad closer than necessary and facing each other, Tom with his feet on each side of the trunk and you with your legs crossed.

You looked nothing short of adorable, slightly tired, but in a satisfied way and completely at ease, your inner dryad spirit thriving now that you were in your element.

“Everything good?”, you checked in on him.

Absolutely not, but you’re worth it.

“Fantastic, darling.”

And just right after he said it, his water ran out after two sips. And he cursed himself for the umpteenth time because he didn’t have a another one.

“Uhm…” You bit the inside of your cheek, internally debating whether you should say what you wanted to say or drop it, afraid he might be weirded out by it. “Y-you want some of mine?”

Tom blinked at you in total disbelief, his gaze traveling from your eyes, to the opened bottle you were shyly handing him, to your lips and starting all over again. Eyes, bottle, lips, eyes, bottle, lips, eyes, bottle, lips…

Were you aware this was an indirect kiss?

His stomach did an Olympic somersault, pushing him down a spiral he was convinced he had finally abandoned: he felt like a bloody inexperienced teenager all over again. If sharing a bottle with you had such effect on him, how could he even fathom the idea of locking lips with you?

He was full of hope and courage up until a few seconds before, but where were they now that he needed them the most? Were they going to forsake him again at the crucial moment?

Unbeknownst to him, you were freaking out just the same, if not even more, your – conveniently back to a fifteen-year-old status – mind having the time of its life on the sappiest rom-com ride you could think of.

It’s an indirect kiss, it’s an indirect kiss, holy shit it’s an indirect kiss.

A seducing little voice came up from the depths of your brain, suggesting you to just go with it, skip the indirect stage and be as direct as you could. You silenced it, heart shrinking in the process.

“I can’t”, he refused, despite every fibre in his body yearning for it. “How are you going to–”

“I’m doing fine, and we can fill them up again later”, you countered, dissipating his doubts. “There’s also a natural spring where we are going.”

Tom gulped. “A-are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have said a thing if I wasn’t.” That sweet, kind determination and the encouraging smile you shot him destroyed all his defences, effectively making him cave. The detail that he was dying of thirst was yet another factor that played in your favour.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t even mention it.”

He brought the bottle to his lips with such reverence he could’ve been mistaken for a pilgrim drinking holy water from a sacred relic. It was strange, but also cute, the instinct of pinching his cheeks and kissing him all over his face getting harder to be fought.

To distract yourself, you took a look around like you knew precisely what to search for. In fact, you did: whenever you escorted people on that path, the meadow never failed to be one of your stops, the view from there being one of your absolute favourites.

“See that spot over there?”, you extended your arm and Tom’s eyes followed the direction of your finger pointing at the top of a hill, where the ivy-covered rests of an ancient, majestic building towered over the valley.

“Yeah.”

“It’s an old manor”, you told him, turning back towards him and dropping your hand. “Well… what remains of it. But it’s really beautiful, one of the gems of this place. There’s even an old legend about it.”

Tom tilted his head to the side, curiosity causing his eyebrows to arch and his eyes to go round.

Just like a little puppy.

“What’s it about?”, he asked, genuinely interested. During the brief time the two of you had spent together, he had discovered that he liked listening to you. More specifically, he deeply enjoyed how invested you could get when talking about something you loved.

He could only wish one day you would talk about him in the same way…

“A doomed love”, you murmured with a wistfully fond tone, as if a wave of inexplicable nostalgia was washing over you.

“Many centuries ago, that castle was built to celebrate the union of two old families through marriage”, you began your tale just the way your aunt always did. “It was a lucky match, and, most importantly, it wasn’t forced upon them, which was the exception in times like those. The families thought of it only after they noticed how fond the kids were of each other. And took the decision when they witnessed that fondness grow into love.”

Tom just nodded along, getting lost in the new memories evoked by the sound of your voice. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the suggestion, maybe you were just particularly good at enrapturing people with your stories, but your words came to life in his mind.

You were laughing, dragging him by the hand, purple silk floating around you like you were a flower as you ran down a hall that seemed never-ending.

He begged you to slow down, and in all response you just teased him, accusing him of getting old.

Next thing he knew, he had you backed up against a wall, your hands in his hair as his lips devoured yours, only stopping to implore you to accept him as your husband.

“Promise me”, he heard himself say. “Promise me you’ll marry me.”

“I already have, My Lord”, you reminded him, bumping his nose with yours.

“Promise me again.”

“Only if you promise me first.”

“They should’ve lived there after getting married… but, right on the day of the wedding, he got called to war. Some say it was because the king wanted him dead, so that he could have his young bride all to himself. He was a disgusting little man, and it seems he did shit like that quite often.”

Your narrowed eyes and the hard line of your mouth conveyed clearly how you felt regarding that particular character – or person – and Tom couldn’t help but to agree with that sentiment, anger bubbling up in his stomach for that injustice like he had been the one wronged by that king.

He could see them clear as day: the tears staining your immaculate white dress while his own were burning in his throat…

The castle was already surrounded by soldiers who, officially, were there to escort him, but in fact, had to make sure he wouldn’t escape. And he had to leave at first light.

There was nothing the two of you could do.

“Would you run away with me?”, you sobbed.

“After the ceremony, the couple disappeared from everyone’s sight. Later that night, a maid found them, naked and cuddled up under the willow they had planted together when they were kids. They had taken those few hours for themselves, making love and exchanging wows…”

You murmured that last part like it was something dear and intimate to you and it sounded so similar to the plea you whispered in his ears.

“Please, come back to me…”

It was the first time he had touched you, and he knew all too well it was also going to be the last. Deep down, you knew, too.

“I will”, he mumbled on your lips. “I will.”

Only not in that life. It was painfully clear that he was going to meet his demise on the battlefield, and not at the hands of a feared enemy.

“It’s time to go, my love…”

“And then, he had to leave at dawn. Not even a week later, he died, after getting injured during battle.” Just like it had sent him in the past, now your voice brought Tom back to the present, pulling him away from the flash of a stabbing pain erupting in his chest, like someone had just…

“The girl refused all of the king's gifts and resisted all his lures, and eventually retired to a nunnery, where he couldn’t touch her. He broke his neck trying to climb up to her window.” You couldn’t hold back a little devilish smirk while saying that.

Tom unconsciously mirrored you: the old fucker had gotten what he deserved.

“But, even if they were miles away, they both expressed the same last wish: to be buried there under their tree, so that they could reunite in the afterlife”, you concluded.

“That’s…” Tom wanted to say something deep and meaningful, but nothing came to his mind other than a single adjective. “… sad.” He had no other way to say it, and frankly, he saw no point in forcing himself to come up with something different. Yes, it was a simple word, and it was enough.

“It is…”, you confirmed with a sigh. “There’s a silver lining to it, though.”

Tom hardly imagined how such a miserable story could have a silver lining, but that didn’t reduce his interest. And mentioning it had brought hope back into your eyes, so it had to be true.

“Legend has it that if a proposal takes place right under the willow, the wedding is gonna be an extremely happy one. Because the ghosts of the two lovers are gonna do everything in their power to protect the union they didn’t get to experience.”

That’s it, we’re definitely going there next.

“It sounds nice.” His own brain slapped the front of his head at how lame his response was. ‘Nice’. He had tried to control himself and his reactions so much it turned back against him.

Great job, Tom. Fucking great job.

“Yeah, that’s why my mom proposed to my dad there”, you confirmed, finally getting up and stretching your legs, preparing to walk again, fully reinvigorated by the hopeful ending that connected your family to that old tale.

Tom slowly felt all the blood abandoning his face: the pause had lasted so little and, by the looks of it, you seemed a bit too interested in that castle up on the hill. “And that’s where we’re going?”, he asked, trying to buy some extra time.

Had you changed your mind last minute? As much as he loved the idea of you guiding him to a super romantic place, he wasn’t entirely sure he could handle it right now.

He stood up as well, anxiously waiting for the verdict.

“Oh no”, you shook your head, the wonderful movement of your head giving Tom some life years back.

Thank God.

“We’re doing something easier today.”

Easier?, Tom thought, gaze falling to the ground as he scratched his nape. He really needed to get back on track with his training. Before his last project, he would’ve faced that path with his eyes closed.

“We’ll be back in the late afternoon, that would take the whole day and a night of camping.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you both nearly sighed in delight, the invitingly romantic scenario of sleeping next to each other under a sky full of stars slipping past your logic walls.

“But it can be our next adventure if you feel like it.”

“Are you implying you want me to propose to you, darling?”

His dashing, pearly-white smile caught you more off guard than needed: one second you were looking – more like gawking in pure adoration without an ounce of shame nor self-respect – at him, and the next one you were tripping over your own feet the way kittens did because their little legs were still too short.

Absolutely pathetic.

But Tom had no time for your self-deprecating thoughts and stupid metaphors, because the instant he saw you losing your balance, he bolted towards you – the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him enough to make him forget about his current suffering, at least for a few moments –, a hand encircling your arm and the other one gripping your waist, effectively stabilizing you.

You let out a gasp – whether it was for the scare, his prompt reaction, or the feeling of his big, strong hands on your skin, you thought it was less humiliating not to find out – then forced yourself to laugh to shake all of that off.

“Not my most professional moment, huh?” You spoke before he could, quickly jumping at the occasion to change the subject dominating your mind.

The ghost of his question to check if you were alright was still laying on his slightly parted lips, but you blatantly ignored it. “Guess I’m a little out of shape”, you cackled, while the embarrassment was eating you alive.

Then you realized he hadn’t let go of you yet, so you rapidly freed yourself from his hold, clearing your throat and mumbling an awkward ‘thank you’.

“Every time I return here, it takes me a couple of days to fully get back on track”, you explained, taking a couple steps back. But then you saw how that innocent joke could’ve been perceived as the truth.

“Just kidding, I promise”, you clarified. “You’re safe with me.”

You were expecting a dry remark, a polite tight-lipped smile that had the word ‘incompetent’ written all over it, or maybe even the request of going back and getting a refund… but none of that happened.

Tom lightly tilted his head to the side, his eyes watering a bit, just enough for the sunlight to make it look like they were precious obscure gems, the tenderness you met in them making you weak in the knees.

“I have no doubt I am.”

“Here we are”, you announced, turning with a joyous smile and widening your arms, proud of that place like you had been the one helping Mother Nature design it. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

You resumed your hike, both still a bit shaken by the unexpected feelings that break had carried along, but refusing to bring them up, the unspoken agreement making your shoulders lighter and your hearts heavier, granting you a short-term relief that was, by no doubt, destined to fester and degenerate into pure torment in the long run.

“Yeah…”

Amazing, indeed.

“This is where the legend wants the lovers to have shared their first kiss.”

This time, instead of Sam’s voice, Tom had Harry’s ringing in his ears: he had exposed his Big Fish quote and now – the irony – he was in a scenario that might’ve looked like it had just popped out of that film and incorporated into that wonderful panoramic spot, the daffodils spreading until the edge of the cliff, their bright colour a vivid contrast to the azure blue of the ocean.

The pics he had found online while organizing the perfect plan didn’t make it an ounce of justice. However, he had to give credit to his past self: it truly was the ideal place for a first kiss.

“Stunning.”

You giggled at his comment, and even found the courage to take his hand, guiding him towards the centre of the field.

Tom just followed your lead, adoration shining in his eyes, your fingers intertwined with his giving him a sense of completeness he hadn’t felt in a while. Maybe for literal centuries.

It might’ve sounded cheesy, but you looked like a fucking celestial vision. Tom had never been a religious zealot, and yet he could’ve sworn he had never been closer to an episode of mystical ecstasy.

“Stunning…”, he murmured breathlessly, and he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you, he truly meant it.

You stood there among golden flowers that swayed in the gentle breeze reminding him of little ladies in waiting attending to their queen. And then there was the ocean, glistening behind your lovely figure, its colour a perfect mirror of the clear sky above.

Tom could’ve sworn he had never seen anything or anyone that mesmerizing, that wild untouched scenery representing the perfect frame for the masterpiece that you were, the lilac hat making you stand out even more.

“You okay?”

It was weird: you were so close, and yet your voice sounded like it was coming from so far. But bloody hell, you were so pretty even with a concerned look on your face…

What on Earth could you be concerned about?

“Stunning…”, he repeated a third time in a faint voice, a dopey smile altering his features.

“Tom…” You let go of his hand, cupping his cheeks instead and he instantly melted into your touch.

Your heart sank to your stomach when you felt his skin burning against your palms. “I-I think you should sit down”, you stuttered, trying to think straight.

Fuck, he was not okay, how could you not have seen it?!

You grabbed him by the shoulders, needing to get a reaction out of him. “Do you want some water? I can go and get it…”, your voice broke, tears gathering in your eyes and getting caught in your lashes like pearls of dew. You were doing nothing to hold them back.

But he kept silent, his dark chocolate eyes staring at you, but slowly starting not to see you anymore.

“Tom?”

I’m back, my love…

The last thing he could register was your terrified scream of his name right before his body hit the ground like a bag of rocks.

“Tom!”

“Tom…”

“Tom? Oi, are you awake?”

Someone was shaking his shoulder, someone else was holding his hand, and he was lying on something soft that had every bone and muscle in his body sing joyous hymns.

Tom slowly blinked his eyes open, adjusting them to the light and taking in the surroundings of his room back at the B&B.

“He’s awake”, Paddy stated.

“Tom, darling”, his mother gasped, reaching out to stroke his hair. “Thank God…”

“Mom?”, he croaked out in a raspy voice. “W-where…” He knew where he was, so he probably needed to ask something different. “What…?”

“You… you fainted while you were hiking”, she informed him.

“What?”, he repeated, propping himself up on his elbows, two concerned Sam and Harry entering his field of view.

Nikki and Paddy wasted no time in helping him seat up, making sure he wouldn’t lose his balance and fixing his pillows, so that he could rest against them. His mother offered him a glass of water that he gratefully chugged down in less than five seconds. It didn’t help him much, but it was something.

Still processing what was going on – and it wasn’t easy with that pounding headache – Tom took a glance at the mirror hanging on the wall… and wished he hadn’t as soon as he did. The person staring back at him was his spitting image and at the same time, somehow appeared completely different.

The skin of his face and neck was an unhealthy shade of red, and no matter how much cream they had applied, it looked – and felt – like sandpaper, so dry that it was starting to peel on his nose. Not to mention the disastrous situation his hair was in, making him resemble an unkempt cat more than an actual human being.

Tom turned towards his family again – he could’ve sworn Paddy was there with them, but now he was nowhere to be seen… weird –, his brows furrowing interrogatively.

“H-how…?”

“Exhaustion because you were in no shape to do it?”, Sam spoke up before the others, his tone halfway between worried and mocking. “A fucked up sleep schedule you still have to fix? Sunstroke because you forgot to put a hat on and wear sunscreen, despite being pale as a ghost? I’d say you are spoiled for choice.”

Ghost…

“Where’s y/n?!”, he urged, feeling his whole body starting to tremble.

“In the hall, you moron.”, Sam scoffed. “You have her to thank for being here.”

You had saved him… at least that told him you were okay. That whatever he was going through had spared you.

“That poor girl…”, Nikki recalled, her voice laced with compassion and gratitude. “She called us and then carried you back so that your father and Harry could meet you halfway… she looked so scared.”

She carried me back?

Sam glared at Tom. “You probably gave her a belated heart attack.”

Harry couldn’t hold back a snort, managing to find humour even under such circumstances. “When they say aim for the heart…”

“You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head.”

“Is he, now? That probably could’ve made him smarter.”

“Boys, please–”

“I have to go to her!”, Tom yelled all of a sudden, breaking the calm reigning in the room.

“Fuck no, you’re not.”

“Sam!”, Nikki hissed, fearing that an aggressive approach might make her eldest son even more uncooperative. “Tom, I don’t think that’s a good idea”, she tried to be the voice of reason. “You should rest–”

“No, I have to go and see y/n–”, Tom trailed off, and with a newly found vigour that surprised him first and then all the others, he discarded the covers and jumped off the bed, not even noticing that he was barefoot.

Dodging Harry, he stumbled upon the door, grabbing – or rather throwing all of his weight – onto the handle. He was ready to bolt down the corridor on his still wobbly legs, but the sudden appearance of you, standing right there in front of him, stopped him dead in his tracks.

“H-hey…”

You looked so small, so fragile and broken he felt his soul screaming at him to wrap his arms around you, hold you tight and never let you go.

“y/n…”

“Paddy must’ve told her.”

“I was wondering where he was…”

Not again. Don’t lose her again.

Two pairs of hands grabbed him just as his legs gave way, your terrified face slipping away from his vision while he almost sank into the floor.

“Holy shit!”, you jumped, immediately moving forward to do something. “Do you guys need help?”

“We can take it”, Sam grunted, struggling to handle his deadweight of a brother as him and Harry carried him back to the bed. “No worries.”

“Yeah, it’s fine”, Harry echoed.

You fumbled restlessly with the lilac hat in your hands, finding it hard to believe them without a doubt, Tom’s limp body digging a hole in your heart.

And it was all your fault…

Nikki stood up from her chair and came to your side, touching your shoulder. “It’s alright, my child, you’ve done enough”, she tried to calm you with a motherly tone. “Did you get some rest?”, she checked, gently guiding you inside the room.

You nodded absently, your eyes fixed on Tom who was recovering from his temporary faint, focusing om what was around him for the second time in less than five minutes.

He held his breath when he saw you and realised you were there, and that you were as real as he was.

This time, you didn’t greet him, remaining still as a statue.

“Uhm…” Hadn’t he already been the same colour of a lobster, Tom was sure he would’ve blushed violently, but now he couldn’t even tell the difference depending on how hot his skin felt, since it was constantly burning the way it usually did whenever he would get a fever. For that, he wasn’t going to complain: yes, he looked hideous, but at least his embarrassment wasn’t written all over his face, for once.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Nikki’s attentive gaze bounced back and forth between you and her son, eyes narrowing and lips pressing together to hide the hint of a smile.

Tom coyly turned to his family. “Could you guys give us a moment?”

Sam was about to question if that was appropriate, considering his state, but the silent look Nikki sent his way spoke volumes: ‘Don’t’.

So, they all nodded and quietly left the room without a protest. Only Harry felt the need to… well, be Harry.

“Don’t be fooled”, he warned you, fake-whispering. “He’s never this nice.”

Tom rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt, but chose not to comment on that, not letting his brother get to him.

“Please, have a seat”, he told you, gesturing weakly.

Much to his surprise – and he meant it in the best way possible – you made the bold decision to ignore the chair and instead sat on the bed, right next to him, your knuckles brushing against his, the soft noise amplified by the deafening silence.

You chewed down on your lip, then took a deep breath. “I know it might sound like a stupid question, but… how are you?”

“I’m good”, Tom nodded slowly, preferring to avoid any sharp movements. The effect of your presence was still stronger than his discomfort, though, a cheeky grin climbing its way up to his lips on its own account. “Not my best angle, I’m afraid, and I don’t have a lighting technician to make my face appear unbearably handsome, but I’m good.”

You didn’t laugh, your shoulders sagging and your head dropping between them.

“I don’t know how it…”, you babbled, your fingers torturing the hat. “How I couldn’t… fuck, I feel like an idiot.”

“What?” It was the third time he was asking the same question in less than five minutes: he really didn’t like that feeling. Just like he was appalled of hearing you say such things about yourself.

Why were you feeling like an idiot when he was the one who had originated that whole mess?

“I should’ve paid more attention, I should’ve noticed that something was off and that you weren’t okay.”

“I’m an actor, darling”, he sighed. “Deceiving people is in my nature.”

Oh…

So he didn’t like you.

“Yeah, and keeping them safe should be in mine”, you argued, voice breaking on the last syllable. “Fuck… I’m sorry.” A sob shook your chest and you let go of the hat to bury your face in your palms, feeling the waterworks were about to start. “I’m so fucking sorry, this was all my fault…”

“No, y/n, no!”, Tom exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders, preventing you from standing up like he knew you were about to do. In fact, in the heat of the moment he drew you even closer. “Please, don’t say that. Don’t even think about it”, he pleaded as your front brushed against his, your breaths mixing together. “I’m the one who made a mess and pretended everything was fine, you couldn’t have known! You saved me.”

“Still…”, you stubbornly objected, your hand resting onto his chest a not so convinced attempt to tone down his sudden burst of emotion. “I should’ve–”

“No, y/n, please, listen to me.” He cupped your wet cheeks, handling your face with the same sweet care you had used towards him right before the accident.

“I wasn’t in the physical condition to go for a hike. Before I met you, my plan was to sleep throughout the entire vacation. To give you the idea, those shoes I wore were brand new… I got them right for the occasion. And this morning I skipped breakfast, I forgot to put sunscreen on and left my hat and sunglasses at the hotel and I overslept and I was running late. And I refused to buy a new hat because I didn’t want you to think I’m an idiot who keeps forgetting his own stuff… not to mention that the reason I barely slept last night is because I kept daydreaming about today and how I had to do my best to impress you… this was all my fault, not yours.”

By the time he was done with his monologue, he was out of breath and, despite not having uttered a sound, the same could be said about you.

Your parted lips slightly distracted him for a second – maybe more than a second –, but then Tom came back to his senses and did the right thing, letting go of you. He didn’t really want to, but he had to.

“You…” After his revelation, your thoughts were running wild, so fast you couldn’t keep track of them all. “… you wanted to impress me?”

“Uhm… yeah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then pushed his hair out of his forehead, the rebel curl falling back into place just to spite him. “I wanted to get you to say ‘Oh, I can see myself going out with him’ or some shit like that.”

“… why?”

“Because I like you”, he answered candidly, leaving your lungs yearning for air.

“What?”

“Yeah, I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we first met…”, Tom confessed, cringing immensely at having to call it a crush, but he didn’t have much choice, did he? It wasn’t like he could just go: ‘Oh yeah, our first date wasn’t even over and in my head we were already choosing the flowers for your wedding bouquet while I was getting lost in the daydream of a past life with you that would make us soulmates’… no, that wasn’t even an option.

“Not at the hotel, but–”

“At the beach”, you completed the sentence for him with a soft smile.

“You–?”

“I remember.”

He had told you he’d just got there with his family, but that he needed a moment to himself. You had offered to leave, yet he had asked you to stay.

“A-and I wanted to get to know you, but like an idiot I didn’t even ask for your name or tell you mine…”, Tom recalled, not at all proud of himself. “But then we met again and… call me stupid, but it felt like destiny. And when you mentioned you were a hiking guide, that felt even more like a sign.”

“A sign?”

“Yeah…” Tom felt like he was a kid who had just made a mess and was now accounting for it to his parents. “Think of it: you and I, on our own, walking side by side in such beautiful scenery. Spending time together, getting to know each other…” He remembered how he had described everything to his brothers within those same walls that were now witnessing his humbling defeat. “And then reaching a panoramic spot…”

… that would’ve been perfect for our first kiss.

“So, let me get this right…”, you tried to put order in your thoughts. “You did something you don’t like–”

“No wait, I do like hiking”, he rectified. “I just… wasn’t in the right shape to do it, I guess…”

“So you forced yourself to go through all that… only to spend time with me?”

“And now everything is ruined”, Tom whined pitifully. “I look hideous and in these conditions, hiking will be off-limits for me…”

He would have to give up on the haunted ruins, there was no way in the World his family was gonna let him go there or even step in that direction. It was all over.

“You know you could’ve simply asked me out, right?”

“Yeah, but now I won’t be able to join you and spend… wait, what?” He stopped, registering what you had just told him. “Wait, what?”, he repeated, incredulous. “You mean you would’ve said yes?”

“I means I would still say yes…”, you corrected his sentence, wiggling your eyebrows at him. “But for now, I think you should rest. I could show you the roses and jasmines I planted with my aunt, though, I’m very proud of them.”

He was too stunned to speak, not believing his unapologetic luck, and his jaw literally dropped.

“And you could use this.”

With his mind unable to summon a single coherent word, Tom just followed the course of your actions as you picked up your hat from your lap, smoothed its wrinkles and then placed it onto his head, leaning forward and bumping the tip of your nose with his and then even going as far as kissing it, while doing so.

“You look pretty in lilac.”

A/n: Yeah, that was sappy af and I’m not even sorry about it hehehe~ thank you for reading, love you! 💜

Taglist: @thollandsdarling @hunnybunimdun @namoreno @nocturnalms @vendettaparker @wildxwidow @mn-jun @thisisparadisemylove @belovedholland @blankspaceblankday @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @mrparkerwillseeyounow @indouloureux @hemlockhearts @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @melodicheauxxo @seolaseoul @peteprker @peetahpahkah @marajillana @yeetzel @brooklynscherry-z @liltimmyst @jahayla-parker @moniffazictress11 @spideysbae @vibesdontlie @raajali3

(Let me know if you wanna be added or removed, add yourself to my taglist or follow me on my writing side-blog @lia-s-liabrary and turn the notifications on)

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x hiking guide!reader #tshwritersnet #event:summerchallenge #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #take my hand wreak my plans

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williamsklausen96 · 1 year

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substance painter 8k resolution

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sukirichi · 3 years

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sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face. “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan @ggsmashgg @dora-the-grownup @ninefuckingoneone @ambiguous-something

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jkstompers · 3 years

Text

a royal engagement | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

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

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

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

word count: 11.1k

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

banner pic creds here! <3

jungkook had the utmost faith in you.

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

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

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

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

“jungkook!” you called out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod, “you don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a good husband has to be honest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

well. that was one way to start a conversation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

neither of you knew how to address moments like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod, “a little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you miss the city. you miss your friends.

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

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

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

“hello, jimin? this is jungkook…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he lets out a breath. “ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thank—”

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

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

“everything alrig—“

“drive!” you demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

jungkook,

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

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

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

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

jeon jungkook, i am in love with you.

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

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

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

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

i’m sorry again.

sincerely,

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“jungkook!”

taglist: @kookxin @fan-ati--c

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khrystalsnow · 3 years

Text

February and March reads

🦋I've been swamped with school for the past two months, and these fics really saved me from dropping out of uni😭 I'm sorry if there's no reviews because this list is hella long(it’s mostly jungkook okay😭🤚🏼), but just know that I enjoyed each and every one of these fics.❤️

(pls let me know if there's any mistake or links that don’t work!)

LEGEND:

🥺Fluff

🤬Angst

😏Smut

😂Crack

❤️New Favourite

🦋KIM SEOKJIN

friends with snacks by @scriptaed 🥺

-roommates!au; friends to lovers!au; drabble

pretty girls don't get hurt by @ktheist 😏

-heir!doctor!seokjin x heiress!ceo!reader x best friend!heir!taehyung

uptown girl by @moononthejoon 😏🤬🥺

-bodyguard!seokjin + princess!reader + enemies to lovers!au

🦋MIN YOONGI

so I heard you like bad boys by @scriptaed 🥺

-uni!au; friends to lover!au; drabble

I'll Drive You by @min-youngis 🥺

-resident reader x idol yoongi

Buttering Up by @jimlingss 🥺

-Chef!AU

Fear and Dumplings by @softyoongiionly 🥺🤬😏❤️

-Underground Rapper! Yoongi, facing your fears

Greedy by @xjoonchildx 🤬😏❤️

-mafia AU

erotica by @whatifyoulivelikethat 😏

-non-idol!AU, they caught each other masturbating

baby, what's wrong? by @taeyohonic 🥺

-established relationship, idol au, reader has mild anxiety and a panic attack

until our last breath by @inkofyoongi 🥺

-Friends to lovers!AU, yoongi wants to be your boyfriend

switching my positions by @cupofteaguk 🥺🤬

-solo artist!yoongi, manager!y/n, fake dating au, friends to lovers au

universe by @personasintro 😏

-stalker au

Birthday Spanks by @jjungkookislife 😏

-free spanks!yoongi x free spanks!oc

new year, new us by @vantaenims 🥺🤬

-producer!yoongi x reader, exes au

The Mark of Yun-Ki by @ladyartemesia 😏🤬

-Hybrid/ABO AU, Royalty AU, Fantasy AU, Daechwita AU

baby, you can drive my car by @jungshookz 😂🥺😏🤬❤️

- mechanic!au, spoiltbrat!y/n

Third Wheeling by @untaemedqueen 😏🥺🤬

-Strangers to Lovers!AU, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, CEO!Yoongi

desolate by @angelicyoongie 🤬😏🥺 NEW!

-cat hybrid

straight shooter by @snackhobi 😏🤬🥺❤️ NEW!

-hitman!yoongi, black market dealer/gunsmith!reader

pour some sugar on me by @yoonia 😏 NEW!

-Enemies to Lovers!au, Baker!au

🦋JUNG HOSEOK

same old mistakes by @xbaepsae 🥺😏🤬

-country club!au, rich boy!hoseok x reader

I Don’t Know What to Call This by @httphopewrld 🥺😏

-friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

suncity by @jamaisjoons 😏🥺🤬

-trip to Barcelona, stranges to lovers au

cry to my room by @kithtaehyung 😏🤬

-friends to lovers, roommates au

play me like a toy by @ktheist 😏🤬

-mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok, chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au

🦋KIM NAMJOON

Bear and Sparrow by @sahmfanficbts 😏🥺🤬❤️

-immigrant AU, strangers to lovers

Mr. and Mrs. Kim series by @sahmfanficbts 😏🥺

-every chapter is NSFW (married)

Call of Duty by @sahmfanficbts 🥺😏🤬

-Military!Namjoon x female!reader

you’ve got a friend in me by @wwilloww 😏

-best friend and roommate

A Match Made in Heaven by @sahmfanficbts 😏🥺😂❤️

-Med School Resident!Namjoon x Dental School resident female!Reader, Strangers to Lovers

Laundry day by @snackhobi 😏🥺

-neighbour joon who caught you masturbating

beautiful boy by @jinpanman 🥺🤬❤️

-namjoon x OC, namjoon x reader, single dad!namjoon, baby!jimin

unbroken by @sahmfanficbts 😏🥺🤬

-Idol!Namjoon x Female Bonsai Grower!Reader, from one-night stand to forever

glasses-clad boy by @jeongi 😏🥺

-tutor joon

these hands are calloused. by @ktheist 🥺🤬

-underground fighter!namjoon x florist!reader

Forget Me Not by @joontopia 🤬🥺😏NEW!

-exes to lovers, valentine’s day

🦋PARK JIMIN

Perfect Pebble by @jjkthclub 🥺

-they meet at a wedding and they go on dates because oc doesn't believe in love

PARK JIMIN HAS SEEN MY GRANNY PANTIES by @ladyartemesia 😏😂

-teachers AU, the reader falls down the stairs

delivered, I’m yours by @suhdays 😂🥺

-valet jimin x baker reader

driver’s license by @gyukult 🤬

-coming-of-age, one-sided!au, brothersbestfriend!au

plums & melons by @winetae 😏😂🤬

-brother’s best friend!au

tears on a silver platter by @flowerwrites06 🤬❤️NEW!

-Idol!Jimin x OC (Name: Gaia), jimin calls his girlfriend clingy

moonlight by @kooksea 😏🥺 NEW!

-singer!jimin, traveller!jimin, artist!reader

🦋KIM TAEHYUNG

Endymion by @marginalmadness 😏❤️

-Druid!Taehyung x Witch!Reader

welcome to my youtube channel by @tteokggukk 🥺

-idol!taehyung x youtuber!reader

Comeback Home by @another-army-spot 😏🤬🥺❤️

-exs-to-lovers!au, teenparents!au, college!tae, businesswoman!oc

heart strung symphonies by @inkedtae 😏🥺🤬

-opera singer!taehyung x pianist!reader

Saudade by @chateautae 😏🥺🤬

-idol!taehyung x choreographer!reader, established relationship

kinda hot by @kimnjss 😏🥺🤬❤️

-campus flirt!taehyung x sweet girl!reader, sm au, best friends to lovers

definition of love by @taegularities 😏🥺🤬

-college!au, tae takes interest in you, past minor character death, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

the snow king by @bloomsuga 😏🥺🤬❤️

-princess!reader x ice prince!tae

cursed by @bloomsuga 😂🥺🤬😏 NEW!

-witch!taehyung x cursed!reader, sm au

🦋JEON JUNGKOOK

golden hour by @tteokggukk 😏

-photographer! jungkook x reader

At the stroke of Midnight by @pars-ley 🥺😏🤬

-A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

cry baby by@namgee 😏🥺

-fwb au, rollerskating

Heart of the Storm by @ladyartemesia 🥺😏🤬

-Secret Feelings/Strangers to Lovers

baecation by @1kook 😏

-richboy!jk, vacation

a table turned. and a line crossed. by @underthejoon 😏

-guard jk and oc is a tease

exclamation mark by @whatifyoulivelikethat 😏

-non-idol!AU; tattoo artist, dom!Jungkook x tattooed, sub!reader

Give Me A Try by @jjkthclub 😏

-friendstolovers!au, jungkook is the campus fuckboy

Domestic Fairy by @borathae 🥺😏

-established relationship, domestic!AU

open invitation by @jimidol 😏🥺🤬

-duke!jungkook x duchess!reader

take my whole life too by @ktheist 😏🤬

-chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au, house husband!jeongguk

love letter by @whatifyoulivelikethat 😏

-non-idol!BTS, jk gets love letters

tingle by @hansolmates 😏

-tattoo artist!jungkook x tattooed!reader (f)

come over by @bratkook 😏

-jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, voyeurism through bedroom windows

i don't mind by @bratkook 😏🥺🤬❤️

-rockstar!Jungkook x reader, jk being chased by security and barges oc’s car

busted in busan by @hansolmates 😏🥺🤬

- snowbound at the airport, christmas detour!au

crush by @jungxk 🥺😂😏🤬

-jk got hit by a car and lost some of his memories

Days to Morning Glory by @sketchguk 🤬😏🥺

-Aspiring Rockstar!Jeongguk x Med. Student!Reader, exes to lovers, roommate AU, high school sweethearts

stranded by @gguksgalaxy 😏🥺🤬

-Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook, they study for their law exam

concrete king by @bratkook 🥺😏❤️

- skaterboy!jk x reader, sweet summer romance

risky business by @jjkthclub 😏

-enemiestolovers!au, office bathroom sex

ZOOM CALL by @1kook 🥺😏❤️

-comfort fic, quarantine fic

roses, poetry and jeon by @seraphimguks 🥺🤬

-bookstore employee!jungkook x reader

ocean eyes by @jimidol 🥺😏

-firefighter!jungkook x teacher!reader, he surprised you by dying his hair based on your favorite song.

shiver by @hansolmates 😏🤬❤️

- bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader, childhood friends to lovers

clandestine by @junghelioseok 😏🥺

-brother’s best friend!au,

One-Step Forward, Two-Steps Back by @oureuphoria 🤬🥺

-tattoo artist jungkook x college student reader, oc falls for her roommate’s fwb

I like U by @pbandjk 😏🥺🤬

-fratboy! Fwb Jungkook Au, oc is a boss lady in the tech industry

A Date With Destiny by @missgeniality 😏🥺😂

-Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU,

the art of wanting by @venusiangguk 😏

-dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

brown-eyed baby by @jeonstudios 😏🥺🤬

-exes to friends to lovers, single dad!jk x reader, a lost child at the mall

almost home by @angelguk 🤬

-dad!jungkook & nanny!oc, both jungkook and oc are scarred from their previous relationships

the secret beneath our stars by @subvk 🤬😏

-friends to lovers au, marriage pact with jk

Blue Spring by @adonis-koo 😏🥺🤬

-Single dad!Jungkook/Reader, Daycare AU, Slice of life

jealousy by @jimidol 🥺🤬😏 NEW!

-tattoo artist!jungkook, parents au

young one by @bts-reveries 🤬🥺❤️ NEW!

-photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader, sm au and written

effortlessly by @gyukult 😏🥺NEW!

-friends to lovers, school!au

selfie by @whatifyoulivelikethat 🥺😏NEW!

-rom-com, slice-of-life, oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

too close by @cutechim 🤬NEW!

-wife!reader x boxer!jungkook (ft. ex boyfriend!namjoon)

caked by @gukslut 🥺😏 NEW!

-Established Relationship, very smutty

My Time by @btsracket 😏 NEW!

-rich, dom jungkook spoiling his girl

The Speedo by @gukslut 😏🥺 NEW!

-oc thinks he’s a fuckboy, but he has fallen in love

the ebb and flow (part 8) by @xbaepsae 🤬 NEW!

-demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader, percy jackson!au

🦋OT7/SERIES

Gangs of Fate by @pars-ley 🥺🤬

-Mafia au / feat. Members of Exo

bon appetite series by @jamaisjoons

-Valentines series

Guarded series by @xjoonchildx

-mafia AU

#ReadingList #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #FebruaryandMarchReadingList

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ggukkiereads · 3 years

Note

hi hii I was wondering if you had any taekook x reader fics ? 🙈 , also wondering if I could I go as 🗯 anon if that's okay? I love ur recs so much and ur page is a LIFESAVER , ily bae <3

🌷 Dear 🗯️ anon! I am sorry for answering so late. My drafts are all messed up but I was able to focus on this. On my 📍 pinned post, I actually asked if you meant love triangles or MMF smut but you didn't reply. So, I'll just put both =)

Enjoy! Much love and credit goes to all these wonderful writers who brought these fics to life 💖🥳

TaeKook Fics (Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook)

Love Triangle/s

M/M/F Smutty One Shots/Series

#ReadwithMe (fics in my reading queue/planning to read)

Love Triangle

All I Want @ardentlyjae - series [6/6] | 126k | War AU, Soldier!Taehyung | Heavy Angst, S

I actually read this on AO3 but I realized it’s on tumblr too. I remember this fic every time I hear Kodaline’s All I Want, which the fic was inspired by

Anima Meaology @arckook - series [5/5] | 26k | Soulmate AU, soulmate glitch (those with mismatched tattoos on their wrist) | A, F

I read this long ago on AO3 when I had this soulmate AU-fixation phase and I saw it on tumblr recently. Just had to read it again 🥺

Aquarium, Part 2 @whatifyoulivelikethat - two shot | 6.9k | cheating/infidelity, healing/comfort, second chances | A, F

I really like this comfort fic 🥰. Also shows that people deserve second chances, even the person who caused so much hurt. Screamed about it here and here

Change @junghelioseok - series [10/10] | 39.2k | a kind handsome stranger (Taehyung) makes you question your deteriorating relationship (Jungkook) | A, S, F

can I just say that Taehyung is such a sweetheart here 🥰? I always envision Paris Taehyung 2018 in this

Everything Goes @jamaisjoons - one shot | 24k | Fuckboy!Taehyung, Bestfriend!Taehyung, Stranger!Jungkook, unrequited love | A, S (really angsty)

First Light @inktae - one shot | 24k | Bestfriend!Taehyung, Masked Jungkook who can’t seem to leave the forest, Fantasy AU, based on hotarubi no mori e | F

If you’ve seen my fic recs list, inktae is always part of my recs. The way they write is just emotionally and visually haunting. Their works are just masterpieces. This is beautifully heartbreaking and heartbreakingly beautiful.

House of Cards @aiimaginesbts - series [10/10] | 40k | infidelity au, taehyung in an arranged marriage with someone else, roommate Jungkook | A, S, F

don’t we all want to have a roommate like Jungkook who will be there to comfort you over your heartbreak over someone else?

Stealing the Bite by wildernessuntothemselves - series [6/6] | 37k | witch!reader x werewolf!taehyung x vampire!jungkook, supernatural au, fantasy au | S, A

I mentioned before that some are divided re the ending, so I wonder what’s going to be the reactions of others

The Muse @daddychims - one shot | 30k | Author!Reader, Bestfriend!Taehyung, Fuckboy!Taehyung, Coworker!Jungkook, Taehyung offered OC to watch him have sex with another so she could write an erotic scene | S, A, F

The Universe of Us (read on mobile) @/taesthetes (officially closed her account) - one shot | 21k | Dream AU, Fantasy, Slice of Life, Kimi no Nawa-inspired | F, A

I am never going to shut up about this fic lol. It’s not exactly a love triangle, ugh hard to explain but please read this wonderful fic. Check their other KTH x R x JJK soulmate fic Cloud Ten too.

When You Least Expect @johobi - series [12/14 + drabble] | 118k | Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, Childhood Friend Taehyung, set up with another guy (Jungkook) | S, A, F

ugh, I want to put another tag about Jungkook but I guess it’s a surprise. I just love the drama 🍿

🌷 I’m forgetting two more fics but I’ll update this once I remember. I haven’t read recently released fics too! I’ll add if there are good ones that come along

MMF Smutty One Shots/Series

A Piece of You @httpjeon - one shot | 13.9k | abo dynamics, camboy AU, camgirl AU, fan jungkook joins the cam session | S, F

All’s Fair @kimvtae - one shot | 13k | soulmate AU, college AU, dating Taehyung for a year but different name (Jungkook) showed up on OC’s wrist (lol it’s not a problem if you can get them both) | S

Blacklisted @/httpjeon - one shot | 21k | dom/sub AU, CEO AU, “after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men” | A, F, S

Business @btssmutgalore - two shot | 28.9k | executive!reader, inventors/start-up owners taekook | S (seriously, how could I have missed including this here)

Dulce Periculum @forgottenpasta - two shot [2/2] | 16k | Hybrid AU, Tiger Hybrid!Tae, Owner!Reader, Wolf Hybrid!Jungkook | S, A, F

Easy Like Sunday Morning @ofsugakookies - one shot | 11.8k | boyfriend AU (yes, both of them), dom!taehyung, sub!jungkook | S, PWP

It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - two shot [2/2] 11.6k | Hybrid AU (dog hybrids) | S, A (side note: I realized I’ve read all of their fics! give their masterlist a try)

Just Kidding @/whatifyoulivelikethat - series [5/?] | 21.1k+ | nympho OC, friend Taehyung, tae’s roommate Jungkook | S, kinda F, crack

this is actually fun 😊; and the episodes are written in a drabble-ish sort of way so you won’t feel like it needs to be updated to get the story moving. It’s basically just reading fun scenarios of nympho OC and these two satisfying her needs *wink wink

Not So Digital @jiminables - sequel to Digital Boy | 2.7k | camboy!taehyung, bestfriend!jungkook, short mxm | S, slight F

Playing to Win @tayegi - one shot | 8.6k | FWB AU (tae), sort of enemies to lovers (jungkook), TaeKook (mxm), originally Taehyung x OC (fwb) | S

okay this is one of my favorites! I’m amazed at how the power dynamics were written. Taehyung seems a dom with OC but with Jungkook he is all soft and sub; then, there’s that dynamic between Jungkook and OC who disliked each other originally. I just found the shifting so interesting and the writer was able to display these changes in dom/sub behavior among the three characters really well

Pour Up @jungkxook - one shot | 14k | fuckboy AU, fratboy AU (applies to two of them), one sassy OC, one kind of jealous Koo | S (thank you dear author for reposting this! 🥰)

Shhh @bang-tan-bitches - drabble (with OT7 sequel) | 2.7k | PWP (just pure hot imagine)

Shameless @imaginethisbts - one shot | 5.1k | established relationship (jungkook x oc), Taehyung’s POV, exhibitionism | S (not exactly threesome, because JK and OC are just doing it in front of people, Taehyung had a bit of action in the end)

Sugar & Spice @divine-bangtan - one shot | 20.8k | Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU, Baker AU, Noona AU, Assistant!Jungkook, Rich!Taehyung, pining Koo, a bit of M x M | S, F, A (it’s all good everyone ends up happy 😊)

Sugar and Spice @sunkissedjk - two shot [2/2] | 8.6k | Your friends ask you whether you prefer sugar (jjk) or spice (kth) | S

ugh this is such an indulgent imagine. If taekook are your friends and they help you decide what type of sex you prefer through a demonstration, wouldn’t you want for multiple demos before deciding? *wink wink

Sacrilegious @therealmintedmango - part of the Gods and Monsters series | 15.6k | Demon!Jungkook, Fallen Angel!Reader, God!Taehyung | S (so sinful 😈💦)

Sweat Pea @nitaescence - series [10/10] | 63k | DDLG!AU, caregiver!jungkook, caregiver!taehyung, little!oc | S, F, A

so I’m glad there was an ask about caregiver!jungkook because I remembered this. I actually checked if there’s a follow up drabble because the ending is open to any interpretation so I’m curious how other readers interpreted it

051 + Scum’s Wish @scriptmin - one shot | 3k | bestfriend!jungkook, pining!oc (unrequited), rebound!taehyung | S, A

it’s actually kind of sad 😭 but I added this because it's good to have variety. Not all smutty pieces will be a happy one

Tattooed Two @/httpjeon - one shot | 8.5k | tattoo artist AU, boyfriend Jungkook joined by his bestfriend Taehyung | S, F

The Doms Next Door @tatertotthethot - series [3.1/?] | 33.8k+ | BDSM AU, Poly, Neighbor AU, Tattoo Artist AU | S

I really love this series. It’s so funny too, I remember Jimin here - he’s THAT bestfriend you want to have. PLUS TaeKook are absolutely hot. If you're not interested in being a sub or partaking in bdsm, you will reconsider

The Hush Series @suga-kookiemonster - two shot [2/2] | 16.9k | coworker’s friends TaeKook, sort of E2L (Jungkook), dom!taehyung, a bit of voyeurism | | S

okay, I really like author’s writing. It can be about sinful delicious smut scenes but I noticed the members always have this developed characterization. I actually find Taehyung so adorably charming - makes me wonder if irl tae is secretly sinful too behind that sweetness lol

Thic Trilogy @btsinned - series [3/7] | 37k+ | CEO AU, Hybrid AU, College AU, Chubby!Reader | S, F, A

🌷 I’m throwing in fics in my reading queue #ReadwithMe

Attitude Adjustment @s0seo - one shot | 11.8k | Roommate AU | S

Chain Reaction @kissmetae - one shot | 3.2k | boyfriend Taehyung and friend Jungkook helping OC relax | S

Cherry @kpopstories - series [4/?] | 29k+ | college AU, fuckboy AU, love triangle | A, S, F (this is part of my ongoing reading list)

Cobalt Blue @hauntedlilies - one shot | 11.3k | artist AU, “you asked Jungkook to draw you like one of his french girls” | S

When You’re Mad @honeyj00ns - one shot | 3.8k | established relationship (boyfriend Jungkook), enemies to lovers Taehyung, Taehyung is JK’s bestfriend, Christmas AU, College AU| S

Madam Cupcake @craztextae - series [6/?] | 69.2k+ | Sugarbaby AU, Idolverse, idol!jungkook meets OC through an app called “sugarmamas(.)com” | S, F

Player Two @minjoonalist - one shot | 10.6k | Gamer!Jungkook, Boyfriend!Jungkook, Boyfriend!Taehyung, Brat!Reader | S

Tag Team @goodnight-tae - one shot | 5.2k | stripper AU, TaeKook are roommates and friends who share most things 😉 | S, PWP

Whoa @bangtanlalaland - one shot | 4.7k | skater!taehyung, 1970s AU, coworker!jungkook | S, PWP, Crack

posted: 2021 March 12; updated: 2021 May 12

link to other fic recs here

feel free to recommend a fic

#🌷 chats #taekook x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #taehyung fic recs #taekook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #ggukkiereadingcollection #🗯 anon #asks #bts x reader #bts smut

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ameliterature · 3 years

Text

Neil and Todd Jealousy POV (Yes, there's more)

Charlie POV | Cameron POV

Neil was an only child and this obviously came with minor character flaws. Not only was he given all of the attention by his parent (even if it was the bad kind) Neil never really had to share anything.

Not that he didn't want to share. He just never had many opportunities to, with the lack of siblings and all. The closest he had to a sibling was Charlie. Unlike Neil, Charlie would share everything with him because he had so much to give. Was it the fact that Charlie's family was rich and that he has at least 3 of each item? Maybe, but Charlie was sure to share what he had with his best friend.

Another thing Neil "the Welton Golden boy" Perry had as a flaw was that he simultaneously wore his heart on his sleeve and yet always tried to hide his feelings. Case in point: when Charlie made a move on Todd.

Now, it's only been roughly 2 semesters since they've known Todd Anderson. Neil had the gracious chance to be his roommate, so in some way, it was like having another best friend aside from Charlie. But what he felt for Todd was vastly different from his friendship with Charlie. Something about the way Todd smiled at him, something about the way he makes sarcastic remarks, something about the way they shared glances between each other every now and then.

Neil was completely enthralled by Todd. Some might say to the point of being possessive. Neil would say protective because Todd was the kind of person who needed to be kept safe. Todd wasn't good at standing up for himself, he wasn't good at speaking the same way he wrote poems. Neil took it upon himself to be the one to make Todd feel the included. He had to be included, he had to be where Neil was.

Thankfully the whole Dead Poet Society thing worked out well, Neil was surprised how well Todd was integrated into the group. They even spent Christmas break as a group with Todd. Things were going great between him and Todd, Neil couldn't ask for more than to share his experiences with Todd.

But one night, a regular ole Study group session, something caught Neil's eyes. Todd was helping Knox out with some love poem, obviously meant for Chris, and he could hear the contents of the poem.

"Hymns from above casted when you're near

Heaven's light shine atop a golden-haired angel

My heart's full of whims and vivid dreams

but in your presence they're obligations I hold close

Be mine and I'll keep your heart guarded

Because mine is with yours, unthwarted."

Neil hears Todd recite their draft poem, hearing it as if it were meant for him to hear. His own golden-haired angel was biting the end of his pencil as Knox was scribbling the rest of the poem. Neil catches himself staring just before Todd looks up at him so he brings his attention back to the trigonometry problem he was answering with Cameron.

He couldn't concentrate on sine, cosine, and tangents at the moment, not when Todd's hand is in his peripheral view; all perfect with it's blemishes and tapping to an imaginary beat. Every so often, he'd steal a glance at Todd's eyes, darting back and forth from his paper to Knox's. He'd be jealous of any pupil Todd would eventually have if he became an English teacher. To be consulted with his sweet voice, to be seated by him as he explains anything, to be taught how to express feelings he wasn't sure how to jot down.

Oh have Todd's untampered attention.

"Hey Todd," Charlie's voice resonates across their small table. Neil accidentally shot his eyes to his friend's direction without skipping a beat. "Mind helping me out with a poem too?"

Since when did Charlie ever ask for help from Todd? Not that he wasn't allowed to or anything, Todd was the right person for this task but-- Something about it wasn't sitting right with Neil.

What wasn't a surprise was Todd's hesitant acceptance. He watched as Todd moved over to Charlie's right hand side and Neil felt his back become warm. It wasn't just his back, his guts turned into an unrested sea, and his eyebrows twitched, trying to avoid a scowl.

"What do you wanna write about?"

"I wanna write about Love." Neil saw Charlie lean forward to look Todd deep into his eyes; for a moment, he thought he saw Todd blush. Neil didn't like Todd showing that expression to someone else, or at least someone like Charlie.

"S-So... We'll use cosine to get X--" Cameron muttered, snapping Neil back to his assignment. He looked at the blurred numbers and symbols, trying to remember what the other problem was.

"Right, cosine-"

Just before dinner, Neil catches up with Todd to walk with him to the dining hall.

"So," Neil started, not exactly sure where to lead the conversation to. "I guess it's spaghetti and meatballs again, huh?"

Todd pushed out a chuckle in response. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Neil had Todd to himself for a tiny moment, for a stupid one-liner too, but it felt like he was in Cloud nine. Todd's calm expression was all he could ask for, paired with his blue eyes looking back at him.

When they reached their table, they assumed their usual spots, Neil being on the left side of the table and Todd on the other. However, Charlie decided to change up the seating arrangement and sat beside Todd instead of him.

There's that funny feeling again. Neil's stomach was nothing but a pit that resembled a deep well without a bucket, nothing to retrieve and remove the sludge that was forming in it. He hated how Todd was so responsive to Charlie's words, how Charlie was so capable of making Todd blush, he hated the sight of Todd rubbing elbows with Charlie as they ate. Neil wasn't sure why he was feeling this way, why he even thought something innocent between Charlie and Todd could make him so agitated. It could all be his imagination.

When Todd left for the bathroom, Neil decided to interrogate his best friend.

"Hey Charlie, why the sudden change of seating arrangement? Thought I was your cute best friend." He tried to sound like his usual self.

"Well, I'm trying to get closer to Todd."

"W-what? Why?" Neil felt his voice crack, much like his confidence.

"I dunno, he's pretty cute. Don't you agree?"

"I--" Neil felt his whole body stiffen, his hand tightened it's pressure on his spoon like a clamp.

"I'm thinking of asking him out soon. No one else seems interested." Neil saw it, he saw Charlie smirk. Neil's emotions became unreasonably irrational, they became unhinged and even if he tried to hide it, they were all bubbling to the surface. Charlie had everything already, he and Neil shared everything before this, but for some reason, Neil couldn't share Todd with someone like Charlie.

"Oh hi, Todd! Welcome back" Neil glares at Charlie while he greets Todd.

"What did I miss?" Todd asks innocently, still taking his seat beside Charlie.

As Charlie began his sentence, Neil cuts him off. "Nothing-" Todd shifts his eyes to share eye contact with Neil. "By the way, we should head back to our room, I need help with my poems." Neil's last attempt of gaining the upper hand on Charlie failed when Charlie brought up his and Todd's prior arrangement.

Neil didn't get it. What did Charlie have that he didn't? Or better yet, what does Charlie not possess yet that he would try to make the moves on Todd?? Neil hated this feeling- this vicious vine-like feeling trapping him. Was it... Jealousy?

Neil's never had much of a reason to be jealous about someone before. He's only been jealous of people who were freer than him-- people like Charlie. Was he jealous of Charlie in that regard? That he could proudly express what he felt for Todd and Neil couldn't? He guessed that was the difference. Charlie did have everything; down to the personality that could make Todd fall for him.

Neil was in Meeks' dorm room, resigning himself in defeat like a pathetic loser he thought he was.

All Neil could do was blankly stare into the shine of the wires that coiled around parts of their machine. A brief knock on their door broke his trance- It was Cameron.

“Do you guys mind if I hang out here? I’m just gonna do my reviewers for a bit.”

“Sure, no problem.” Meeks nods, still measuring out some amount of wires.

“Wait, how come you’re not studying in your room?” Neil questioned,

Cameron took a moment to respond. “Charlie… he wanted to focus on his homework with Todd… Alone.”

This was the last straw for Neil, the final push that made him stand up for once. He couldn't bury his jealousy anymore, he had to confront Charlie.

He left his friends to march his way to Charlie's room. He wasted no time when asking Charlie about his motives.

"Well hello, Perry! What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Quit it-" Neil cuts him off. "Are you serious about Todd?"

"... What?"

"I- I'm asking if you're really interested in Todd?"

Maybe this was all a trick, maybe Neil was just being jealous, maybe Charlie was playing a cruel joke on Neil and he had to shake it out of him.

"Yes." Charlie's expression was ripe with confidence.

With that, Neil felt his world shatter. What was he doing? Was he gonna fight his friend over his feelings for Todd? Was he gonna deny Todd of someone as fun and as romantic as Charlie? Charlie's given so much to Neil and the way he was acting was nothing short of being selfish.

If Charlie really liked Todd, then Todd would be lucky. If Todd would return those feelings, Charlie would be the luckiest man to ever live.

Neil had nothing to offer to Todd that Charlie couldn't top. Neil felt his bitter feelings turn into catharsis, accepting that Todd's better off sharing his moments with Charlie than him.

"T-then... Please take care of him, okay?" Neil buckled his shoulders.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"If you ever hurt Todd-- You're a dead man, got it?" Neil's eyes were like daggers, piercing right at Charlie's own brown eyes.

"R-right..."

Neil figured he had to leave, he couldn't bear to see Todd and Charlie exchanging looks. But this of course wasn't the case. A knock echoed in the room.

When he opened the door, Todd was right there, his beautiful eyes staring up at Neil will a quizzical expression.

Neil assumed that Charlie would most likely profess his love to those eyes, and that knowledge broke Neil's heart.

"Sorry Todd, looks like I'm gonna have to move our study session for now. I think Neil needs your help more. Right, Neil?" Charlie spoke, catching Neil's bewildered expression.

"I'm sure he's got something more important than mine anyway."

Neil looks at Charlie and Todd, bouncing a confused face between them. He sees Charlie's wink before Todd guides Neil out of the room.

Todd sighs as he returns to his room with Neil, his sweaty hands in the midst of sticking to his papers.

How did he end up in this situation?

How could he explain the entire day?

It all started when he told Charlie about his crush on Neil in private. All he wanted was advice from the best friend of his crush and nothing more.

"Glad you came to me, Toddsie!" Charlie pats him on the back excitedly.

Todd didn't like how enthusiastic Charlie was being in this situation, though he was grateful Charlie immediately accepted him for coming out.

"I know exactly how to make him fall in love with you!"

"L-look Charlie, I'm not trying to get Neil to like me! I just-- I just wanted to know how to deal with all these feelings I'm having."

All these feelings- Todd's had these "feelings" ever since Neil shook his hand for the first time in the courtyard. He's never met someone as perfect as Neil. Yeah, he had Father Issues, impulsive actions, even the tendency to make weird noises (but he found those the cutest) and yet Neil made Todd's world move.

Neil's laughter, Neil's smile, the stolen glances he catches Neil casting his direction-- It was all Todd sought after in his recent days at Welton.

"Oh please, Todd, those 'feelings' are straight up love from what I hear. We just have to know if Neil feels the same way!"

"We don't even know if he's interested in men! Charlie- What am I supposed to do?" Todd buried his face into his hands.

"Don't worry, I'll find out a way to not only check if he swings that way, but I can guarantee I can get him to return your feelings."

"That-- That doesn't make any sense, Charlie." Todd wasn't able to question his friend any longer as they dashed into the study hall.

The Study group went on as usual, Todd assisting Knox with his poem for Chris, Meeks and Pitts building a contraption he was sure was the Radio Mark II, and Neil, Cameron and Charlie trying to answer some trigonometry homework.

What didn't help was Neil being directly in front of him. Todd could see Neil in his glasses, unabashedly handsome and very distracting. Todd would try his best to help Knox with his poem but Todd's eyes would linger onto Neil's perfectly "framed" face.

He then hears Charlie call him over. At first, Todd didn't think much of it, but he soon regrets ever telling Charlie of his crush on Neil.

The whole evening, Charlie tried to make Neil jealous without planning it out with Todd first. If Todd had at least known, he wouldn't have been trying picture Neil in Charlie's place as some sort of "method acting" to go along with this scheme. When dinner began, Charlie took Cameron's spot for 'maximum efficiency'. It didn't help when Charlie called him "cute" in front of Neil. Would Neil agree? Would Neil even describe a guy to be cute? Would Todd be able to enjoy his spaghetti and meatballs without Charlie's arm around him?

Todd decided that he should excuse himself to the bathroom for compose himself. (And to evade the plethora of compliments Charlie showered him with.)

When it came from Charlie, it felt like a joke, like a friendly description, really, than an actual compliment. Then Todd thinks if they came from Neil... then those words would make him swoon.

Would Neil even fall for this type of trick? Was it even right to trick Neil like this? Would Neil be even okay with the idea of Todd being in a relationship in with a man? He wasn't even sure if Neil would accept Todd's feelings, let alone feel jealous of Charlie.

As Todd approached their table, he's immediately greeted by Charlie.

"What did I miss?"

"Well Todd--" "Nothing." Neil cuts of Charlie with a serious tone.

Oh no... did Neil find out? Did Charlie rat him out already?

"By the way, we should head back to our room, I need help with my poems." Neil looks up at Todd with an expression that is both deadpan and attractive to him, Todd had no other choice but to accept.

"What? Todd, I thought you'd help me out?" Charlie pouts. "I did ask first." Todd didn't want to miss his opportunity to be with Neil, especially not when he looks at him like that. But Todd looks back at Charlie, raising his eyebrows as if to say "Just go along with it."

Todd was reluctant, of course, he didn't want to perpetuate fooling Neil in any way, but he wasn't sure if Neil had anything to return at all. They were always alone after all, nothing would be stripped away if he spent one evening in Charlie's room to make Neil jealous.

"Right, sorry, Neil. I'll go back to our room after I help out Charlie." Todd replied with a pained expression hidden behind his face.

That evening, when he approached Charlie's room, he hears Neil's voice muffling through. Todd wished had the will to listen in but he assumed it wouldn't be his business if it was said behind closed doors. He took another moment before knocking on Charlie's door.

Neil opens the door for Todd, their eyes meeting briefly, like a celestial occurrence that Todd took note of. Have they always been this brown?

"Hi Todd!" Charlie greets him, breaking him from Neil's gaze.

"Hey Charlie, Hi Neil."

He was expecting Charlie to pull another stunt to make Neil's brown eyes angry, but instead both his and Neil's eyes lifted in surprise when Charlie told him Neil needed his help more.

Did they come to some agreement?

And Todd could've sworn Charlie was winking at Neil... or was it at him?

All these questions didn't matter when they were alone in their room.

Their chests rattled like cages, their hearts ready to jump out at any moment.

Neil bit his lip as Todd took a seat by his desk.

"S-so Neil..." Todd muttered, "Can I ask you something? B-before I help you with your poem..."

"Oh- Yeah, sure."

"What do you think of... of men dating each other?"

Neil lets out a tiny cough. "W- Excuse me?"

"Do you think... it's ok? For two guys to like each other?"

Neil wasn't sure how to respond, was Todd telling him that he liked Charlie? Was Neil too late? Did he miss his chance to tell Todd what he really felt?

"I-- I guess it's alright," Neil answered, slumping his shoulders down in defeat. If he was gonna lose Todd to Charlie, he might as well be supportive. "But- you have to make sure it's the right person." Neil wasn't going down without a fight though.

Todd's face brightened with Neil's response. So 1 part of his query is answered; Neil is ok with the idea of men liking each other. Now it's the question of Neil's feelings for Todd.

"I-If someone, a guy, liked you, how would you feel?" Todd stood up, turning to face Neil. Both of them were by their desks, like two sturdy posts defending their base. Todd awaited Neil’s response with the anticipation akin to a war officer in a meeting room.

"I... would really only prefer it from one guy." Neil took a step forward, with the courage of a powerful Chesspiece during an endgame.

Todd took note of this, mimicking his step, this time walking a bit closer to Neil with his hands in his pockets. "Y-yeah? Who?"

Neil noted this feeling being similar to a spelling bee, like spelling out a complicated word letter by letter, taking a breath to make sure the next thing he was about to say was exactly what the world wanted him to say.

"You, Todd. It's always going to be you."

Todd looks up at Neil, who's now inches away from him from, fully realizing their slight height difference. "I'd say the same for you."

"I hope... I'm not... taking you away from Charlie-" Neil slowly brings his hand to sweep Todd’s hair aside to see his eyes better.

Todd snickers slightly, catching Neil by surprise. "Neil... You don't have to worry about Charlie. I don't have any feelings for him."

"But-" Neil looks concerned, feeling like he betrayed Charlie. "He... He likes you. Todd, I--"

"Is that what he told you? Neil... I hope you won't be angry when I tell you he's been pulling your leg."

Neil jerks his head backwards. "What?"

"I.. Just promise you won't be angry okay?" Todd had to come clean, he couldn’t handle Neil thinking badly of him if he never admitted Charlie's plan. Neil nods before Todd reveals Charlie’s idiotic scheme to get them together by means of tomfoolery.

Neil sighs with a smile, leaning forward to rest on Todd's shoulder. Todd was still getting used to the fact Neil's VERY close right now.

"Well, you guys did a pretty good job of making me extremely jealous." Neil laughs a bit. He was in relief that he didn't need to compete with Charlie.

"I'm... I'm really sorry, Neil. I told him I just wanted advice." Todd looks down with embarrassment.

Neil tilts Todd’s chin up with his hand, bringing his face up to look at him. "You're gonna have to make up for it, y'know?"

Todd’s face simmered under Neil's touch. "I know."

Todd learned that Neil was a Jealous type of guy, not the type to be possessive, but definitely the type to mope around rather than steal someone else's love interest.

Luckily for Neil, he already had Todd’s heart to begin with.

Neil wasn’t used to sharing, but he and Todd shared their first kiss that night. That's a compromise he was willing to do.

Bonus:

Knox, Meeks and Pitts POV:

4 of their friends (the roommates) getting paired up in one night made them:

Thanks again to @sweettodd for that one post that spawn all these POVs haha

Taglist: @anderperrytheplatypus @she-nuwanda @andersonsdeskset @sweetnessbythesea @maisietheweltoncow [tell me if u wanna be added/removed next time]

#anderperry #anderperry fic #yes it's another #jealousy trope #Neil and Todd #POV!#anderperry one shot #dead poets society #anderperry fanfic #fanfic #dps #dead poets society fanfic #dps fic

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undercover-trio · 3 years

Text

De request

First "I love you" with Team RWBY? The more tooth rottingly fluffy, the better. They/Them pronouns? Thanks, I love your works.

~~~~~~

Aw shucks, thanks Anon, I’m glad my works are to your liking

✨✨（*´▽｀*）✨✨

I’ll make this as sweet as I can, so sweet even I feel the sweetness radiating from my phone.

o(-`д´- 。)

-Mod Pengie

Art is by mistEcru

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

——————————

Ruby

You twiddled with the music box in your hand, it was fairly small yet still quite beautiful. The rose design it had along with wines tracing along its silver surface, much alike the quality of those in stores.

Yet you made it, you created the music sheets after sleepless days, trying to translate Ruby’s favorite song into a music sheet. You studied the parts of music boxes through your scroll, you nicked your fingers many times as you shaped the metal for the box.

You worked hours on end to purchase the materials, sure it cost more to build a music box than buy one but you wouldn’t let yourself. Ruby had helped and supported you through so much, you wanted her to feel even a drop of the appreciation you felt towards her.

You did have many busts when it came to making them but you felt so proud the moment when you could make a successful one. Your head remembered the sound of her favorite song by memory given how much you played it on the music box to get it right.

As you walked towards Ruby’s dorm you felt nervous, not by the chance you’d be caught by the night guard, he already gave you permission to go.

You really hoped Ruby liked the gift, you put your all into it, it was in a cute red box with a f/c(favorite color) ribbon tying it.

The moment you knocked on her dorm door you felt all your worries wash away, you weren’t the type to have doubts. You knew Ruby, she was a precious and sweet girl who deserved the world.

You smiled at Yang as she opened the door, you looked slightly nervous and a bit tired with light bags under your eyes. It didn’t stop the genuine love she could feel coming from you, she opened the door wider to let you in as she smiled at the gift.

Ruby had her nose in a textbook, looking cutely focused as you chuckled, that caught her attention. She noticed her other three teammates walked out the dorm, leaving you and her.

“Y/N? What’s up!” She greeted cheerfully, you took off your shoes and stepped on Weiss’ bed. Ruby focused on how the candle light enhanced your features.

She looked curious as you handed her a box, you smiled and nodded at her to open it.

And she did, her eyes glossed up at the beautiful music box in front of her. She observed every detail, her being more flattered as she saw every thought you put into it.

“Play it.” You encouraged, your voice mellow from your tiredness, it was due to the hour and how much work you put into her gift.

She twisted the knob and listened to the song with you, while it wasn’t as professionally done as the ones she’d see in shops it was still welcoming.

She came to the realization you made this as her keen eyes observed the craftsmanship and details, it wasn’t impossible given you two first met in a workshop.

As the song ended her eyes were watery, this song was her favorite, it was her and her mother's song.

Red like Roses..

“I love you Ruby..I was just too nervous to say it till now, I wanted to make it special as well.

Her heart melted at your mannerism, your gift, your love, just everything in this moment.

She quickly jumped down from her bunk and tackled you into a heartfelt hug, you were a blushing and stuttering mess but she couldn’t help it.

She loved you so much in this moment.

She’s loved you for a long time.

“I love it- I love you- I just-“ Ruby was fumbling over her sentence, her feelings were overflowing.

You sat up and hugged her back, she tucked her head into your neck as she kept repeating how much she loved you.

You loved her too, and you felt fulfilled knowing that she knew.

——————————

Weiss

-Before Weiss heads to Beacon cause I wanna be unique

Weiss… was perfect in aristocratic standards, she behaved impeccably, was talented and had the charisma.

Her silvery hair never failed to perk your interest, the way all her moves were calculated and graceful. Her eyes were a beautiful sky blue, they were probably what drew you in the most.

They were free, they were bright and daring, you weren’t sure when exactly you realized your fondness of her, it just happened.

While you weren’t the most poor aristocrat you certainly weren’t the most rich. It kept you grounded, you had always been level headed yet when it came to her.. you felt all sensible thinking fade.

Perhaps that was what made you follow her to the balcony that night, you remember how you froze when you watched her beautiful features be illuminated by the shattered moon.

Her expression made you pause for a second, with a defeated smile you could help but think she didn’t belong here. An angel can’t be kept in a cage after all.

“Why the long look?” You asked, your behavior genteel as always. Sky blue met e/c, your heart beat fast at the eye contact.

To think you were only 12 at the time.

You and Weiss became acquainted, slowly it turned into friendship, you couldn’t help but admire her.

She really was a beauty among thieves, you loved it when she laughed and joked. Your heart broke when she looked defeated or down, you always strived to be there for her as she did you.

Yet.. secrets can’t always be kept forever, white lies are soon seen through, you weren’t an opaque wall rather than a tinted glass.

“I’m leaving.”

Such a simple sentence from her managed to change your mood tremendously, yet even then as you turned to meet her precious blue eyes..

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop her, she deserved to be free.

“I see.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say more without your voice breaking. She raised her eyebrow at your seemingly relaxed response, yet Weiss was perceptive.

“I’m sorry Y/N.. I just can’t keep being grouped with my family anymore.” Her voice cracked with guilt and pent up aggression, you could feel her emotions about to overflow.

Two warm hands were placed on her cheeks, Weiss couldn’t help but lean into their comfort, you gently brushed away her tears.

“Weiss, look at me.” She hesitantly looked at your face, she didn’t say a word of how it made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ve known..for a long time you don’t belong here.” You started, Weiss could only listen to the cadence of your voice as she put her hands on both your wrists.

“You were made for adventure, a thrilling life with people who care about you.” The more you spoke the less coordinated your words became, she knew you cared about her. You wished for her to get the affection she truly deserved, with the amount of people she should.

It shouldn’t just be you.

“Weiss, when I look into your eyes I see the sky.. I see freedom.. I see many beautiful things.” Her cheeks tinted at the words, you noticed, she always got like that when praised.

“And freedom isn’t caged, it's the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.” She smiled wryly as she knew you quoted the dictionary, you always did when it came to words that struck you.

“Therefore.. I support you, I’ll even aid you if need be.” Her heart warmed at your words, you were always there for her, speaking and looking at her as if she were the most precious thing.

She couldn’t help her next action.

Her arms wrapped around your shoulders as her lips made contact with yours, they were soft. Her lips were pushed against yours as she tried to convey how she felt to you, smiling slightly when you wrapped your arms around her waist.

When you two separated you met her eyes, they looked back at you lovingly, the way you would always look at her.

“I love you Y/N/N.” She admitted with a smile, you were surprised and delighted. You couldn’t help the way your face melted into a sweet grin.

“And I you, Weiss.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You met with an Angel at twelve

And with your affections you delve

The closest of friends at fifteen

Something you’d never foreseen

A kiss goodbye at seventeen

As you watched her break from her routine

——————————

Blake

Blake was scared of your affection sometimes, not that she was scared of you as a person.

It’s just that she was hurt and emotionally scarred so many times and it was hard to heal. Her emotional state was equivalent to a paper that had been crumpled then straightened out.

The marks were still there.

She wasn’t sure she could recover if you turned out the same way Adam did, yet every time you looked at her with love in your eyes she just couldn’t help but stick with you.

She felt ashamed she would always lose her voice when she would try and say she loved you, it made her think of Adam.

You noticed this of course, and every time without fail you would give her a smile and tell her it’s fine. Sure it hurt a bit but you loved Blake, you knew of her past, her emotions and traumas.

You loved every bit of her.

She had come into your dorm late one night, she was busy at the library due to the Torchwick situations. Yet she felt her heart rate increase at your sleeping face, you always were the most beautiful person to her.

Then she heard it.

“...love you..Blake.”

You had murmured it in your sleep, she knew that you loved her, she knew that you refrained from telling her that because you loved her.

Her reaction wasn’t what she expected though, instead of the dreaded fear she thought she would have she instead had a feeling of comfort, ecstasy even.

Her emotions had already come to accept that you loved her, that you weren’t Adam.

She teared up a bit of the realization, they weren’t sad tears but ones of pure and genuine delight.

While she was on her high she sat next to your body and shook you awake, you drowsily looked at her. With a sleepy smile you lift up your hoodie a bit and let her sneak underneath it.

You called it ‘Hoodie Time’, Blake found it as a good way to calm down and relax if she listened to your heartbeat.

And the added bonus she liked being in small spaces.

She felt you stroke her hair as she listened to the cadence of your heart, it was slightly fast and it only flattered her.

“Want to talk Kitten?” You asked, Blake usually did this when she was stressed. You didn’t mind though, you thought it was quite cute.

She shook her head no as she kept her right human and cat ear on your chest.

“I just wanted to say” she started as you rubbed circles on her back to keep her calm. She felt slightly nervous but your action did help.

“I love you.” She got it all out in one breath, she grew slightly worried as she noticed you stopped rubbing her back. She shook her head, you weren’t Adam and you’d never be, you were Y/N.

Her worries ended when she saw how happy your face was, you looked as though you struck gold.

You looked at her as if she just gave you the world, you didn’t want her to worry, you quickly pecked her forehead since it was fairly close to your lips.

“I love you too Blake.” You began, then you started tearing up. “I’m glad you trust me enough to say this.”

She was flabbergasted at how genuinely loving your reaction was, it made her all the more warm inside, she loved your way of love.

She loved you.

She always would.

——————————

Yang

You smiled as you felt the wind brush against your hair, the city lights always looked perfect in the night. Unfortunately the police sirens weren’t that pleasant, then again, your favorite blonde is the one who is driving right now.

She took a sharp right as you grasped onto her stomach tighter, her muscles tensed at the feeling. The feeling of your fingers brushing against her stomach caused her to lose focus for a minor second.

At least until you snapped her out of it.

“Yang!! Bascule bridge is splitting right now!!” You alerted her, her lilac eyes noticed the ship trying to pass, she immediately increased the motorcycle speed.

Unlike with Ruby, Blake and dear oum.. Weiss, you wouldn’t get scared or mad when she invited you on a thrill ride. You enjoyed it and participated, it surprised her at first given you were a pretty mellow and sweet individual.

She smiled as she heard you gasp in excitement as you two were on the motorcycle mid air, the gradient of the bridge was more than enough to lose the cops and make it to the other side.

You treasured how her hair seemed to fly in slow motion, the moon illuminating the whole scene.

The landing was a bit rough, but thanks to your semblance, aerokinesis, you guys didn’t crash into oblivion. It did slightly exhaust you to slow the velocity you guys were falling at however the adrenaline sure helped.

Luckily there were only minor scratches to bumblebee, unfortunately you both just realized that the way back to Beacon was on the other side of the bridge.

“So Yang.. how would you feel sleeping on a random roof?”

Yang merely laughed at the question and slapped your back, she was on board with it.

That question eventually led to the two of you being on a flat roof, Bumblebee was hidden in a bush right below you guys. You could use your semblance to bring you and Yang up but the bike was a bit too much for you right now.

“Best Joy ride ever!” Yang laughed out with a huge grin on her face, you chuckled at her antics and gave her a fist bump. You guys relaxed for a bit, nearing sleep before Yang turned to you, her eyes looked determined.

“Serious though, I’m glad I have you Y/N/N, I’m not able to do these things with anyone else without being called brash and dumb.” You frowned at the last words, without speaking you merely grabbed her hand as you looked at the star signs.

Ursa Major, quite ironic given you have an overprotective bear hugging friend next to you at the moment.

“Yang.. before I met you I wasn’t able to be myself, while I’m not necessarily as… extroverted as you.. my parents didn’t like my need for thrill.” You told her as you grasped her hand tighter, she too frowned at your words.

“But then I met you… this amazing, lively person, the day you first invited me to a ride like this.. I felt happy.” She blushed at your description of her yet you kept going.

“You’re not dumb, maybe a little brash but you’re still a ray of sunlight that came into my life..and I love you for it.” Your face turned crimson as you admitted those last words, she paused as she came to terms with what you said.

The two of you were still lying down as she raised her arm, you closed your eyes as she patted your soft hair.

“Gee.. you could’ve just told me you loved me..then again you wouldn’t be my Y/N if you didn’t speak a lot to get a point across.” She laughed as you started snickering at her words too, her eyes caught sight of yours as they held contact.

“I love you too Y/N.” She smiled brightly as she brought you in for a kiss, you couldn’t help but beam with happiness as well.

You loved Yang a lot, you loved her thrilling, welcoming self. And she loved you as well.

——————————

Heyo! It’s me Pengie, sorry for the late upload of this, school kept me busy, luckily Fine Line by Harry Styles came in my life(slowed down cause I’m like that) added to the angst but nyeh

Anyways I hope your teeth rotted lol, I love you simps and have a good day!

#mod pengie #rwby #rwby x reader #tagging still sucks #ruby rose x reader #ruby rose #rwby ruby #weiss schnee x reader #weiss schnee #rwby weiss #yang xiao long x reader #rwby yang #yang xiao long #blake belladonna x reader #rwby blake #blake belladonna #gender nuetral reader #fluff

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lydias--stiles · 3 years

Text

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

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“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

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williamsklausen96 · 1 year

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failed to load 3d scene substance painter

#SUBSTANCE PAINTER

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panda-noosh · 3 years

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taste test {kaz brekker x reader}

there are guests today.

little information was given to you, but you don’t mind; you’re not here to entertain anyone. you’re here to do your job and move on. who the king associates with is honestly none of your concern.

you’ll leave the assassins to the royal guards.

you wake on the day to witness the palace in hysterics. chefs bustle around like headless chickens, maids and butlers ironing uniforms that have not had a crinkle in them since the war. the scent of food - a cacophany of it - rises to the surface, making you crinkle your nose at the onslaught of different options. all you want is a slice of toast to prepare you for the day, but the thought of walking into that kitchen has you cuddling up in bed for a few minutes longer.

you’ll have to eat that food pretty soon. just a small bite, just enough to get a taste. a hint.

you close your eyes.

the peace doesn’t last long, because it never does. a knock sounds at your door, startling you from your reverie. you roll over, not even bothering to cover yourself when you call out, “come in!”

a palace guard - rico - peaks his bald head round the door and raises a brow. “still sleeping?”

“clearly not.”

“good. you need to be up and at your post in thirty minutes; we have guests today.”

you pull the quilt over your head. “don’t remind me.” you peak an eye over the top, raising a brow. “who are the guests?”

rico narrows his eyes. “you haven’t been told?”

“well, no. i never really asked.”

“then i’ll leave it as a surprise.” he claps his hands, like you’re some kind of dog. “get ready. i don’t want to come back up here again.”

“then don’t,” you reply, but he’s already disappeared.

you drag yourself from bed to do as he ordered. there’s no point arguing with the palace guards - they seem to think they own the place, even though they live basically under the thumb of every other individual walking the grounds. even you, the lowest of the low, can manipulate them into doing what you want if you just try hard enough. a few sweet words and a confident tone, and they’re like putty in your hands.

but the truth is, you don’t care enough about todays events to put on that confident tone. you pull your clothes on, fiddle with your bow tie, and head downstairs to see what the day has in store for you.

breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

a risky day ahead.

you’re required to be at the kings side long before the guests arrive. you’ve never questioned it. the rules of the palace have never made any sense to you, but you go along with them, because you don’t want to get into any more trouble than you already have. that’s why you find yourself stood by the kings side in silence, hands clasped in front of you, trays of delicious breakfast foods being delivered by hasty, sweaty porters.

the dining room is swathed in beautiful decor. banners hang from the ceiling, red and gold colours matching the grand wallpaper all around. the fancy carpet has been rolled out, tucked beneath the long, mahogany dining table and stretching all the way to the double doors ready to greet the guests.

even the king is dressed well for the occasion, which is another surprise. though the king hardly looks like a peasant, he makes a point to put in as little effort with his appearance as possible, just to show people that he can get anyone to fear him from personality alone. his riches and fancy fabrics have nothing to do with his power.

but today he wears his finest silk coat, the buttons straining against his round stomach. his beard has been freshly trimmed, and you watch his hand rock back and forth amongst the hairs. a few stray ones float from his chin to the table, and you quickly swipe them away. the king doesn’t even notice; he continues staring at the doors, one dark skinned knuckle tight around the arms of his throne-like chair.

finally, after what feels like forever, the double doors up ahead are pushed open. two palace guards dressed in red hold them in place, and a man is ushered in.

a man you recognise immediately.

he’s got a cane now, which is different. there’s those gloves on his hands, the sides of his head still shaved, with that shaggy, dark mess still perched on top, a school boys haircut that looks most out of place on someone with blood on his hands. he’s frowning, because that’s what kaz brekker does - the king shows his power through his booming voice and cruel choices. kaz brekker shows his power through his expressions.

you don’t meet his eyes, though you don’t look away. kaz has his gaze on the king, not even noticing you standing at his side, and for that you are thankful; you don’t think you want to look into those blue eyes again. you promised yourself you wouldn’t, not before the nightmares disappear.

the king slowly stands. he rubs his beard one final time for good measure before saying, “you’re late, kaz.”

“call me mr brekker,” kaz replies, before gesturing to an empty seat at the end of the table - the seat farthest from the king. “shall we sit?”

you swallow; you’re familiar with this attitude from him, but you’ve been in the kings presence too long now to pretend kaz isn’t on thin ice.

the king, however, is clearly in a docile mood, as he nods and sits down. the food in the centre of the table goes unnoticed for a while as the two stare at each other, waiting for the other to crack and begin the conversation. you fiddle with your fingers, uncertain whether kaz has seen you, whether he recognises you, whether he’s just keeping a straight face because he’s kaz, and he’s a professional.

finally, the king clicks his fingers at you. “stack my plate. you know the drill.”

you burst into action, bustling round the table, scooping up different assortments of breakfast foods you know the king enjoys; he’s got his bacon, and his eggs, and the bread, pancakes on the side. you slather beans along the rim of his plate and place a single hash brown in the residue, just as he likes it.

and then you sit down, and pick apart the entire thing.

you can feel kaz’s eyes burning into you as you work, but you pay him no attention. you have to focus, because this is kind of a life or death situation. you sniff the food first, though this very rarely shows you anything you might need to worry about. it’s too fresh, still warm in your fingers when you lift it to your nose. you can smell only the warmth of it all, but you take the precaution anyway, just to show the king you know what you’re doing.

and then you nibble the edges, heart thumping with nerves rather than poison entering your body. that’s what you’re looking for - poison, an assassination attempt. even in his own palace, the king is paranoid. his own staff have turned against him before. you’re not entirely surprised.

you chew, swallow, pause, repeat.

“all clear.”

you hand the plate back, tuck your hands in your lap and look down at the table at kaz. he’s staring at you, an eyebrow raised, and you understand immediately that he recognises you, probably knew you worked here before he even entered the premise.

was he here for you?

you banish the thought and look away. you wait until the king has started digging in before excusing yourself and exiting, your job for the morning complete. at lunch, you will have to repeat the process, and again at dinner, but until then, you have the morning to yourself.

you walk through the gardens, because fresh air is all you need right now. your heart is hammering, and you curse yourself for it - kaz brekker has not been in your life for months. he shouldn’t have a grip on you. he shouldn’t even know you are here, and yet he does, because of course he does. kaz doesn’t step foot anywhere until he knows the ins-and-outs of the entire place. he keeps his ducks all in a neat row, and you were a fool to believe you had escaped it.

it’s not like kaz is a bad man. he’s evil, certainly, with horrible actions under his belt, but you can understand his reasoning. he kills a man, and maybe that’s an overexaggeration, but the man was also seconds away from traumatising a poor woman walking home from work. kaz takes a life, saving the day in the process. it’s how he works, how he’s always worked for as long as you’ve known him.

and you’ve known him for a while.

you haven’t been by his side in months, but someone like kaz brekker is someone you never forget. once you know kaz, you never stop knowing him, which is a curse more than anything else. oh, how you wish you could wipe the slate clean, pretend you never got involved with him and his gang in the first place. but that was your decision - your stupid, careless decision - and you need to face the consequences.

having him here, at your place of work, was a consequence.

you sit down by the stream just outside the palace grounds. a duckling struts past, paying you no attention whatsoever. a stray lilipad floats gently through the water, spurred on by the tiny breeze ketterdam has for you today.

you like to come here sometimes, just to clear your head a little bit. nobody else bothers with the nice scenery and the nature; they think it’s a waste of time. if it wasn’t for the gardener, this place would be a wasteland, left to shrivel and disappear into shadow. you’re thankful it’s been kept pleasant, though - it’s a good place for someone who wants to have no thoughts for a little while.

you lean down and run your fingertips along the water. it’s cold, and a weed gets tangled between your fingers. you lift it from the water with a wince, flicking your wrist to get it off-

a cane clamps down on your fingers, shoving your hand into the grass.

you inhale sharply, straightening up but not turning around.

“so easy to startle,” kaz hums. “you’re losing your touch, y/n.”

you twist your hand and catch the bottom of his cane, using it to pull yourself to your feet. kaz doesn’t stumble, but you never expected him to; kaz doesn’t stumble. he’s much too stubborn for that.

you whirl around, and there he is, that frown on his face, his head tilted like he’s analysing you even before you’ve said two words. a heat festers in your belly. you don’t know if you want to hug him or slam your fist into his nose.

“so this is where you ended up, is it?” he glances at the grand gardens, the glistening lake, the ducklings swimming past. “you’ve surprised me, i gotta say. i never thought you’d be into such grandeur.”

you fold your arms over your chest, cheeks heating up. you will admit, the palace is certainly not the place you thought to find yourself, either; after living in the barrel your entire life, you had grown used to dirt stained clothes, weeks without washing, hunger pains. this was different. this was a different type of hell, a hell in fancy clothes.

“cat got your tongue?” kaz continues, swinging that stupid cane back and forth. “shame. i think we have a lot to talk about.”

“why are you here?”

“ah, asking the right questions now!”

“just tell me, kaz. tell me, and then we can go our separate ways - just like you wanted.”

his expression falters for a moment, so quick that it’s clear he doesn’t want you noticing the power you still have over him, even just a little.

“fine,” he says. “let’s walk.”

you do just that, hands tucked into pockets, head tilted down. it’s easier to talk to him when you’re not subject to his facial expressions, too - handling both of them is too much.

“you want to know why i’m here,” he begins. “i’m here looking for you.”

your stomach drops, even though that was kind of what you were expecting.

he pauses, giving you a chance to fill in the silence with your own thoughts, but you don’t even look up.

he barrels on. “we had a tip-off from someone that you were working here now. no one else believed it, but me? i know you a little better than them. i was surprised, but i could picture it. you’ve always been irrational when you’re desperate.”

you wince. “you don’t know me at all, kaz.”

he smiled at the sky in response, like you had walked into his trap.

“i hope you didn’t come here thinking you can coax me back to the barrel,” you continue. “that’s not going to happen.”

his jaw clenches, head still tilted towards the sun. his skin is a little darker now, a little more tan. he’s probably been out and about, you think, causing havok in the sunshine, ruining people’s holidays because he can.

“i thought you would say that,” he says. “so i’m bringing the problem to you.”

you nearly stumble. “what?” freezing in the middle of the path, you grab his arm and whirl him around, forcing him to look at you. “what have you done, kaz? what problem?”

“she asked for you.”

“kaz-”

“inej is sick.”

your breath falters. those words, so simple, yet so . . . unexpected. inej ghafa - the wraith, your best friend, the girl designed to be indestructible. that’s why kaz picked her. that’s why she worked alongside you. that’s what made you the best damn crew in ketterdam.

“sick.”

kaz nods, shrugging his arm from your grip. “sick. ill. not well. poorly. whatever you want to call it. she’s not doing good, and the only person she’s asking for is you.”

“so where is she?” you whirl around. “is she here?”

“not walking alongside us, no.”

you scowl. “i mean at the palace, kaz. is she at the palace?”

“she will be.” kaz pulls a golden watch from his pocket. “in about three hours. that should give your employer plenty of time to set my room up and make some space in the hospital wing, don’t you think?”

you close your eyes, trying desperately to steady the thumping of your heart. he could be lying, and you know that, but what if he isn’t? what is inej really is on her death bed, and you never even got to say goodbye?

the thought terrifies you to the point your hands begin to tremble. when you open your eyes, kaz is staring at them, and you’re almost certain there is something close to pity sparking there.

you quickly snap your arms behind your back and nod. “fine. okay. i’ll see her. but once i’ve done what i can, you leave. both of you.”

kaz studies your face. the fire in your stomach burns even brighter, forcing you to look away and keep walking.

kaz follows, all soft footsteps. “i’m not here to bring up the past, y/n. i hope you know that.”

“you can understand why i find that hard to believe.”

“well, yes. but i’m serious. what we had, it means nothing now. you’re a different person, and so am i. we can let it go.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, trying to pretend those words are exactly what you wanted to hear. but a knot twists in your heart, almost to the point of pain.

you take a deep breath and glance at him over your shoulder. he’s only a few steps behind, but his presence is so large, so there that you nearly trip.

and then you say, “we never had anything, kaz. remember that.”

----

it’s like you’re trying to hurt each other.

that’s how it’s always been between you and kaz, but at one point, it felt natural. it was a bit of fun. a few snide remarks here and there, followed by kaz confessing he thinks your eyes are a very pretty colour. a bit of sparring, followed by you telling kaz he’s the most important person in your life.

this time, however, the mere sight of him is a torment, one you don’t find fun in the slightest.

the king tasks you with leading kaz through the palace. this was a job you fully expected to be given, but it doesn’t make it any easier. kaz stops to examine every little thing, tracing his fingers along artefacts you would be murdered for touching.

you swat his hand away when he reaches for a bust of the kings father. “stop it. if you knock that over, he’ll have you hanged.”

kaz raises a brow before touching a gloved fingertip to the stone. you groan and march off, trying to ignore the butterflies at the sound of his soft, hidden chuckle echoing behind you.

you show him his room, a beautifully decorated space much grander than any room the king has ever given you. kaz whistles when he walks in, looking at the wine bucket on his chest of drawers, and the freshly made bed with the thick linens, and a view to die for.

“spoiled,” he says.

you roll your eyes. “i’ll leave you to get comfortable.”

“or.” he whirls, catching your arm. his fingers slot in the crook of your elbow, the leather of his gloves sparking unwanted familiarity within you. “you can stay, and we can talk some more.”

“i have things to do, kaz.” you rip your arm from his grip. “the king will be having lunch soon, and i need to be there.”

kaz scoffs, slowly sliding the knot out of his tie and slipping it from beneath his collar, like undressing in front of you is no big deal. “so you can do what? potentially die? you know, y/n, i once thought you were a tough son of a bitch, but the longer i’m here, the more i’m realising just how weak you are.”

ouch.

“we’ve all got to make a living somehow,” you reply. “you murder people, i keep the king safe.”

“the same king you wanted to assassinate a few months ago?” he tilts his head, pursing his lips. “what a drastic change of heart.”

“go to hell, kaz.”

he raises a hand. “wait for me outside; i’ll come to lunch with you and your king.”

you pause. “has he invited you?”

“i don’t need an invite.”

“you’re not permitted to be there-”

“i’ll be there.” he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “i want to watch you in action. you’ve always been very good in action.” he smirks, and you know he’s just teasing you, trying to get a reaction. your cheeks heat up, but you quickly turn on your heel and scurry out before he can notice.

you don’t wait on him outside. instead, you hurry to the dining hall, where the king is already seated. he looks up when you enter, fingers already tangled in his beard. his wife sits beside him, grand and tall and everything a queen should be. she scowls when you enter, but you ignore her, immediately taking your seat by the king and fanning a napkin over your lap.

“sorry,” you say. “kaz brekker kept me.”

“it’s mr brekker,” the queen snaps. “have some respect for our guests.”

“y/n can call me kaz.”

you close your eyes, listening to the thump of his feet and cane against the carpet.

“y/n can call me kaz,” he repeats, lowering himself in the chair at the head of the table. “mr brekker is a little too formal for them.”

“mr brekker,” the queen exclaims, fanning her reddening face. “i wasn’t aware you would be joining us for lunch!”

you nearly roll your eyes at her flustered state - okay, so kaz is attractive. he’s also half her age.

kaz leans back in his seat, tapping his fingertips together. “oh, no, i’m not eating. i’m just here to observe.” at the confused silence, he shrugs. “i have nothing better to do, and i’ve always been fascinated with the hobbies y/n takes on. such a talented soul they are.”

you’ve never heard kaz speak so formal before, and you have half a mind to laugh. instead, you glance over to see his own lips trembling in his attempts to keep a straight face - he finds this just as amusing as you do. messing with the royals, it’s all a game to him. they are the fools.

“do you two know each other?” the king asks, handing you his stacked plate.

“no,” you snap. kaz grins behind his glove, staring at you over his fingers as you hasten to add, “no, we don’t. i just met him today.”

the king nods slowly, not quite sure whether to believe you or not. you don’t give him a chance to doubt any further before picking up your knife and fork and cutting a small chunk from a slice of tofu. you go through the usual routine with everything on his plate, but all the while, kaz stares. you feel his eyes like a fire sinking into the side of your face, putting you off from paying proper attention. you pop the cut-off’s in your mouth and chew, turning to meet his gaze, as if making eye contact with him is some kind of power move. however, he actually looks a bit. . . worried? concerned? you’ve never seen that expression on his face before, and it makes your stomach flip as you swallow the food.

you give a final nod, handing the plate back to the king. you repeat the process with the queen before standing, straightening your trousers and excusing yourself.

kaz’s chair screeches as he stands.

“mr brekker, would you not care for some lunch?” the queen asks.

“no.” he turns and follows you out the dining room, catching your arm when you try and run. “what the hell?”

you spin, snatching your arm away. “can you stop grabbing me?”

“what happens if their food actually has been poisoned?”

“then i get poisoned.”

he raises a brow, skin paling. “and do they have someone on hand for if that happens?”

“on hand to do what?”

“don’t play stupid, y/n. on hand to save your fucking life.”

you scowl; it’s been a long time since you’ve heard kaz curse, and it shames you to feel the same thrill run over you.

“i get sent to the infirmary,” you reply. “but it’s never happened before.”

“never happened-” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “this is the kind of life you want to live? you left the barrel for this?”

“no life is as bad as the barrel.”

kaz’s lips tighten, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment before he opens them again and says, “you left the place where people loved you, cared about you, and you came here. to this shit hole. you’re risking your life for them, and you have the nerve to tell me this life isn’t as bad as the barrel?”

even to you it sounds ridiculous, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“the barrel wasn’t a life,” you say. “the barrel was a beginning for me, but i’ve moved on.”

“you don’t move on from that.”

“maybe not mentally, but i can damn well get away physically.” you lean in, lowering your voice. “i just wish you’d let me.”

his eyes scan your face, drawing attention to just how close you are to him. his breath fans your cheeks. you can make out every line on his lips, every crease in his face. you could lean forward if you wanted to, close that distance.

you step back, once again straightening your trousers. “tell me when inej arrives and i’ll come meet her in the infirmary.”

kaz doesn’t say anything. he watches you leave, and part of you - a retched, traitorous part - is disappointed he doesn’t follow.

----

inej really is sick.

“so it’s true,” you say, sauntering into the infirmary. “the wraith has been beaten.”

you’re trying to jest, but there’s little humour to be felt when she looks like that. her dark skin is pale and sickly, warm drops of sweat clinging to her forehead and rolling down her neck. she’s dressed in only a thin night gown, revealing collar bones and stretched skin where her muscles once were.

she looks up, bloodshot eyes meeting your own, and even in sickness, she manages a smile when she sees you. that’s enough to have you breaking. you rush to her bedside and bundle her in your arms, nearly sobbing with relief at the feel of her pressed against you, her hands in your hair, her mouth inches from your ear.

she whispers, “it’s you.”

you pull away, nodding. “yes. it’s me.”

“what are you doing here?”

you pull a chair over and sit down. “that’s not important.”

“yes, it is.”

“i’ll explain later.” you lean forward, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. “you talk first; what’s going on?”

inej coughs into her elbow; something rattles in your throat, and you try desperately to hide your wince. “i just got sick. i fell in the brig a few days ago, and i don’t think the water was very healthy.”

“of course it wasn’t,” you grumble. “it’s the barrel, you stupid girl. what did you expect?”

“i cleaned myself pretty well afterwards,” she defends.

“clearly not well enough.” you place a hand to her cheek. “has anyone come to see you?”

“some man in a coat,” she replies, nuzzling down in the pillows. “he checked my temperature and my blood pressure and all that stuff. said he’d be back soon.”

“and he didn’t seem . . . concerned?”

inej shrugs. “i didn’t look him in the eye. men like him don’t sit right with me, y/n. i let him do his job, but i’m not looking at him. i’m not giving him ideas.”

you nod. there is a silence, but those are okay between you and inej.

finally, you reach over and take her hand. her palms are clammy, cold, but her grip is strong.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there to help you.”

her head snaps around, eyes widening. “y/n-”

“i know you always say you understand why i left, but it’s just. . . i don’t know. i feel guilty about it. i feel selfish sometimes, and you’ve had to travel all the way here whilst you’re in this state all because i wasn’t there to-”

“has kaz been making you feel guilty?”

your mouth snaps closed. “i don’t. . . i don’t think so?”

inej sighs, head dropping back into the pillows. “don’t listen to him. i understand why you left; i always have. kaz just. . . i don’t think he ever got over it when you disappeared. it was like a part of him went with you.” she shrugs. “a part of him did go - you.”

silence again, because you have no idea how to respond to that. kaz was hurt when you left, and you know that, but he’s kaz. he’s tough. he’s been through everything a person should never have to go through. the thought of his final straw being you is almost laughable to think about.

“he loved you,” inej continues, even though you don’t want her to. “he really, really loved you.”

“past tense,” you whisper. “not any more.”

inej smiles sadly, and that’s all you need to see to understand you’re right - he’s moved on. he’s here with you now, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things. he’s here on business. he doesn’t care about you, and he said it himself - whatever the two of you had is gone, non-existent. you thought you had come to terms with that, but seeing the confirmation on inej’s face makes you feel suddenly exhausted.

“well this isn’t about kaz and i,” you say, pulling your shoulders back. “come on. tell me what’s been going on since i left.”

---

you’re trying to sleep when you hear the bang.

trying being the key word. always. every night, you put your best efforts into drifting to sleep, but it never seems to work how you want it to. you toss and turn for hours on end, drifting in and out of your associative state, but not really falling asleep. time just passes, and then it’s day time, and you’re working again.

tonight is no different.

the bang is loud, just next door to your room. your ears immediately prick - the palace guards aren’t moving towards it. you’re already awake, so you may as well see to it yourself.

you swing your legs out of bed, grab your dressing gown and walk into the hallway. glancing back and forth, you see nothing out of the ordinary.

the bang sounds again.

you narrow your eyes, walking further down the hallway. turning a corner, the bang sounds one final time before a pair of shoes flies at the wall and crashes to the floor in a heap.

you rush forward, eyes wide. “what the-”

kaz spins, another pair of expensive shoes already in his hand. “oh. did i wake you?”

dazed, you snatch the shoes into your possession and toss them to the floor. “what the fuck are you doing, kaz? people are trying to sleep!”

“i was also trying to sleep,” kaz replies. “i am one of those people, so why are you yelling at me?”

you rub your eyes in frustration - sometimes talking to him is like pulling teeth.

“oh, come on,” kaz says. “i was just doing a bit of late night cleaning. this room is a fucking shit hole.”

you raise a brow, sighing. “what are you on about? this room was pristine when you came.”

“yeah, well, i thought so too. and then i found this.” he motions for you to enter the room, and though you know it’s a bad idea, you do so. he hooks his foot around something beneath his bed, and pulls out a box overflowing with expensive shoes.

you narrow your eyes. “what’s the problem?”

“rich men shoes,” he says, like that explains everything. after knowing kaz as deeply as you do, it kind of does make sense.

you sigh again, kicking the box back beneath the bed. “go to sleep, kaz.”

“i can’t.”

“try.”

“you know i can’t.”

you pause, overcome with a sudden chill. you wrap the dressing gown tighter around your body, trying to refrain from looking at him - he’s still dressed in the fancy clothes he wore this morning, but the top button is pulled loose, and his hair is a mess. his eyes droop a little, evidence that he really wants to sleep, but genuinely just can’t.

and you know why.

“i’m not asking you to stay with me,” he continues, grabbing a pair of socks from the floor. “i’m just saying - you have no right telling me to sleep when you know what it’s like.”

“are they bad again?”

kaz purses his lips. “they’ve been bad for a while.”

a while. that’s how he always phrases it. when he says it’s been a while, he means it’s been a while since you left the crows, left him.

you swallow, looking to the ceiling like the intricate design will give you clarity. “i can get you tea or something. a fresh blanket. whiskey.”

“trying to get me drunk?”

“kaz, i’m serious.” you meet his eyes. “you look terrible.”

he laughs, a sly sound that reeks more of danger than amusement. “thank you.”

“let me get you something.” you turn, but he catches your elbow. you glance back just as he drops his hand like your flesh has burned him, an uncharacteristic redness adorning his cheeks.

“didn’t mean to touch you,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “but i’m serious; i don’t need anything. it’s useless anyway.”

everything is useless. every remedy he’s ever been given has never worked. the only remedy for insomnia that has worked for kaz brekker is you.

but you can’t do that to him. you can’t do that to yourself.

“okay,” you mumble. “just. . . stop making so much noise, alright?”

“did i really wake you?”

“i couldn’t sleep either.”

you stare at each other. it’s like you’re waiting for the other to break. you hate that you kind of want him to break.

his adams apple bobs. “make yourself some tea, then. i’ll be a bit quieter.”

you nod. “thanks.”

“how’s inej, by the way? did you see her?”

“i did. she seems. . . okay.” you shrug. “the doctors are going to do everything they can to help her get back to normal. then you can go back to the barrel.”

kaz nods, though his movements are slower this time around, shoulders a little more slumped. neither of you say anything else as you walk out, tugging your dressing gown a little tighter around your body.

you don’t take his advice. you don’t need tea, or whiskey, or a fresh blanket; with kaz’s words and his expressions and him, you know there is no way you’re getting to sleep any time soon, no matter what remedy you use.

----

“good morning, royalty.”

the king looks up from his breakfast, the very breakfast you have just tested for poison. it sits weirdly in your stomach this morning; after a sleepless night, your appetite has deserted you, but you have no choice besides eating.

kaz strolls into the room, dressed in a suit. his white shirt sits against his chest, and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal the crow tattoo on his arm. you awkwardly rub your own crow tattoo, suddenly very aware of how permanent it is.

“good morning, mr brekker,” the king says. “again, you surprise me with your presence. we weren’t expecting you for breakfast.”

“i am just full of surprises.” he sits down in his usual seat and meets your eyes. “how are you this morning, y/n?”

“y/n was just about to leave,” the king replies, as you knew he would; he likes hearing your voice as little as possible.

kaz, however, keeps his eyes on you. “i asked y/n. not you.”

you stare straight at him, a silent warning. “i’m good, mr brekker. well-rested.”

“you can call me kaz.” he leans back, grinning. “i’m glad to hear it. maybe you and i can take a walk amongst the duck pond again later on.”

there he goes, putting on that god awful formal accent that he thinks is so funny.

you scowl. “i’m a bit busy today, mr brekker.”

“kaz.”

“he asked you to call him kaz, y/n,” the king snaps.

kaz nods. “i asked you to call me kaz, y/n.”

you bite your lip, pushing back the retort that so desperately wants to rise. he’s just sat there, grinning with no shame. the king is looking straight at him, and he doesn’t even care.

“any duties you’ve been given today can be postponed until later,” the king says. “mr brekker is our guest, and if he wants your company, your company he shall receive.”

kaz’s grin gets wider, and oh, you want so desperately to punch him square in the face. instead, you force a smile, turning to the king to tell him just how honoured you would be to give kaz brekker your company on this fine morning.

and that’s how you find yourself strolling through the gardens with kaz, yet again.

“you’re unbelieable,” you mumble, arms folded over your chest like a school kid having a tantrum.

“i’m good,” he replies. “you know i’m good, y/n. i don’t know why you act surprised.”

“he’s the king, kaz,” you hiss. “can you not tone it down a little?”

“tone what down?”

“the-” you gesture vaguely, though the only word you can conjure is flirting, and there’s no way in hell you’re letting that slip into the conversation. “the shit. tone down the shit!”

“i’m not scared of him. i know you want me to be, but i’m not.”

“oh yes. how could i forget? kaz brekker isn’t scared of anything.”

kaz scoffs. “kaz brekker is scared of plenty of things - men aren’t one of them.”

such a kaz thing to say. the most frustrating bit about it was that he was telling the truth.

“i told inej what your job is here,” he continues after a moment of tense silence.

“oh?”

“she understands. says you’ve always been one to do anything to survive.”

you shrug. she’s right.

“that worries me, you know.”

“nothing worries you, kaz.”

“the thought of you in danger does.”

you shake your head. “don’t start this now. you said it yourself; what we had was nothing.”

“why can’t i worry about you without it having to mean something bigger?”

“because everything you say means something bigger.”

kaz falls silent. he knows it’s true, and so do you. kaz has never been able to speak his full extent, always letting people think less of him so he can take them by surprise when the time is right. you have learned first hand how frustrating that can be, but it was also a part of him you grew to love. it was what made him so intelligent, so cunning. it was what made him kaz.

“are you not ever worried you’re going to get unlucky one day?”

you glance over. he keeps his head ducked down, one hand curled around the head of his cane, the other tucked into his pocket. “i know what i signed up for. getting poisoned was kind of part of the risk.”

“since when did you even know how to identify poisons?”

your lips twitch. “jesper taught me.”

kaz rolls his eyes skyward, running a hand through his hair; the sun glows against his tan skin. “of course he did. honestly, the shit you two got up to when i wasn’t around-”

“we had fun,” you say. “we could only do that when you weren’t hovering over our shoulders.”

kaz glares.

you look to the floor, afraid to smile at him, afraid to open this conversation into something even mildly pleasant; if you can get through this entire visit without thinking of kaz fondly, maybe it will make all of it a bit easier. maybe you’ll be able to trick yourself into thinking you’ve moved on, grown stronger since your time in the barrel.

“how is jesper?” you ask, because you suddenly feel like you can’t help it.

kaz shrugs. “how jesper always is.”

“worse?”

“for a while. he didn’t take you leaving very well, but he straightened himself out.” kaz tugs on his lapels. “he always does.”

“yeah. he does.”

you wonder about jesper sometimes. it hurts to know he took your leave badly, though you should have known; jesper has never been one to handle his feelings well. that was your job on his behalf. you would often sit with him at night, just to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. you once handcuffed him to his bed post to stop him heading out into the gambling hall of the hotel you were staying in.

he was the only one you could ever really properly speak to about what was going on between you and kaz. inej understood kaz, but jesper was kaz’s right-hand man. he was the one kaz would go to about things like that.

“does jesper know how to make your brew?”

there is no moment of confusion, like he was expecting the question. “i’m sure he does. i never ask him to make it, though.”

your nostrils flare. “kaz-”

“listen, the nightmares aren’t going to disappear,” he says, raising a silencing hand that you swat away before he can think it works. “i don’t need some special brew helping me sleep.”

“no, you’ll just stay awake until you drop dead.”

kaz grins, sharp as knives. “that’ll be the way to go, won’t it?”

you shove his shoulder, suddenly furious. he looks over, still grinning, because kaz has always found your frustration amusing. he used to say you looked like a chipmunk who just got their nuts stolen.

“for someone so smart,” you hiss, “you’re pretty stupid.”

“because i won’t indulge in your famous sleep remedy?”

“because you’ll let yourself suffer before asking for help.”

his smile fades. “i only ask certain people for help, y/n. it’s not my fault those people keep leaving.”

your heart drops; there he goes again with the impersonal little jabs, knowing he’s cutting you so, so deep. you don’t even humour him with a response, instead quickening your pace until you begin to feel like he isn’t even there.

but that’s impossible, because he’s kaz brekker. he’s yours. even when he truly isn’t there, it’s like he’s walking right beside you, and you’re beginning to get very annoyed by the attachment. it’s not fair on you, and it’s not fair on kaz, but neither of you seem able to help it.

you continue walking until the cold gets a little too much. then you head back to the palace in silence.

----

final meal of the day. you will make sure it’s not poisoned, and then you will go to bed.

kaz is there, as per usual. the king and queen don’t even act shocked any more, simply welcoming him into the dining hall. oftentimes, he’ll stroll in by your side, his cane clicking against the marble and that smug little smile playing on his face. you always ignore him, even though the king says it’s disrespectful to do so.

tonight, you do just that. you take your seat beside the king, gather up his food and start the process. the beef is smothered in gravy, making the scent test a little difficult, but you give it a go anyway, because it’s protocol by now.

kaz watches from afar, one finger pressed to his lips. he’s lounging back like he’s comfortable, like sitting in a palace is what he does every day. his eyes are narrowed, focused.

you pop the beef into your mouth and chew; nothing.

you move onto the potatoes. nothing.

finally, you dip your fork into the sweetcorn and raise it to your lips.

kaz slaps the fork from your hand. he makes no noise. one minute he is sat at the head of the table, and the next he is by your side, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you from your seat.

the queen shrieks as the fork flies directly at her, sweetcorn and all. a glass of wine tips over when kaz pulls you to your feet, your knee slamming against the underside of the table. palace guards run inside, but none of them know what to do - nobody in the room shouldn’t be there, and so they stand by the door, glancing at each other.

your eyes, however, are trained on kaz.

“what. the. fuck?” you hiss under your breath as the king tends to his startled wife.

kaz meets your eyes dead on. “you really need to get better at your job.” he grabs your arm and starts for the door. the king hollers after him, demanding to know what is going on, but kaz pays him no attention, and you have no idea why you’re not fighting any of this. your heart is hammering in your chest at a million miles per hour, and you have so many questions, but it’s just reflex by now to trust kaz.

he drags you through the halls until reaching his room, where he pushes open the door and leads you inside. it is only then, when it is just the two of you, that you come to your senses, replaying that scene over and over in your head.

you whirl around, yanking your arm from his grip so harshly that you stumble back. “what the hell was that, kaz?”

“how much training did they actually give you before throwing you in to risk your life everyday?”

“why do you care?”

he starts pulling his tie loose, not even looking at you. “just tell me.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying desperately to keep your attention away from the way his gloved fingers tug and pull at the knot on his tie. “i did a course at the start where i could identify all the different types of poisons.”

he quirks an eyebrow. “that all?”

“it was enough.”

“if it was enough, y/n, you would have noticed the soft spots in the sweetcorn.”

your head snaps up. soft spots?

he hums, despite you saying nothing in response. “wilde yolk makes food go soft in certain places. it also kills people in about ten seconds if consumed in even the tiniest amount.” he looks up, flicking his tie off completely. “did you not learn that in your course?”

you bite your lip and look away. you were so distracted at that dinner table these days, focusing mostly on kaz brekker at the end of the table. you had no idea he was examining your food just as much as you should have been. you had no idea he was keeping an eye out for you.

“so is this experience enough to get you to move back to the barrel?”

your eyes snap up. he’s staring right at you. he doesn’t even look fazed by his question.

and that makes you so, so angry. in seconds, you have gone from grateful to furious; only kaz can elicit that response from you.

you step back, glaring. “so that’s what this is then? you came all the way here to drag me back to the barrel?”

“well, no. i came here to get inej help, but she seems to be healing up pretty well with all the goods your people are giving her.” he shrugs, bottom lip protruding. “so i thought i’d try my hand at this.”

“you are unbelievable.”

kaz raises a brow. “are you getting mad at me?”

“you are unbelievable!” you want to throw something at him. you want to break down and cry. you kind of want to go with him. “it’s like you haven’t listened to a word i’ve said. are you that self-centred, kaz?”

“you know i am.”

you close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. maybe you’re overreacting. maybe you really are better off in the barrel, where you were born and raised, where you learned everything you ever knew. but here, with kaz being the one to drag you back - it reminds you so harshly that you’re his. you are his, and that is all anyone will ever see you as, and that thought. . . you don’t know how to feel about that thought.

“this isn’t the life for you, y/n,” he continues. “you know it isn’t. once the barrel has you, it doesn’t let you go. we’ve all learned that the hard way.”

“is that what you are?” you spit. “the hard way?”

he shrugs. “you should be grateful it’s me and not someone worse.”

“there is no one worse, kaz.”

his lips twitch, the only sign that your words have actually struck a nerve. “you mean that, do you?”

“don’t act like you’re the good guy. you know you’re evil. you’re proud of it! that’s why i had to leave. that’s why i’m in here risking my life every single fucking day! i wanted to get away from you!”

and oh, saints, this isn’t going how you wanted it to go. the words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them, mind racing too quick for your mouth to catch up. his face continues falling with every word, but you don’t stop.

“saints, kaz, when are you ever going to grow the fuck up? you walk around pretending you have everything under control, that you own the place, but you’re nothing - nothing - without the rest of us. you would be dead twenty times over if it wasn’t for that little crew of yours, the people you have under your god damn thumb.” you step forward, teeth gritted. “kaz dirtyhands brekker can’t even take his own fucking gloves off.”

“is that what you want?” he steps closer, so close your chests are almost touching. his face is red, a line of sweat glittering upon his upper lip that only ever shows itself when he’s furious, out of his mind with anger. “you want the gloves to come off? fine.”

and then he plucks the gloves from his hands and throws them on the floor.

his hands. the hands you have seen only twice in the years you have known him, the hands that have never touched your bare skin. suddenly they are in full view, free reign to do whatever you want with them, but all you can do is step back, one hand covering your mouth as you try and process what you’ve said, what kaz has done, how the situation could have taken such a harsh, grim turn.

but kaz isn’t finished. kaz is never finished.

“is this what you want, y/n?” he demands. “you need me to bear myself completely for you to believe i’m in love with you? or is this not enough?”

“kaz-”

“what else is it going to take, huh? tell me.”

“kaz, i’m-”

“what about this?”

he’s crazy. he’s crazy, and making mistakes, and you know this because he reaches forward and cups your face in his bare hands, flesh against flesh. shock ricochets through you, eyes widening as kaz lets out an anguished groan, his own eyes slipping closed. you feel his fingers trembling upon your skin.

you wrench away from him, gasping.

he immediately spins around, clutching his hands to his chest. he groans low in his throat, pressing his head against the wall. sweat trickles down the back of his neck, disappearing beneath his collar. you catch a single tear run down his cheek that he can’t wipe away because then his fingers will be touching his skin, and he hates that. it kills him. you know it does.

you rush forward, placing a hand safely on his jacket-covered shoulder. his breathing is ragged and shaky.

“kaz,” you pant. “oh god, kaz, i’m so sorry. i’m so, so sorry. why did you do that?” you whirl around frantically. “your gloves. where are your gloves?”

he doesn’t reply. you’re talking to yourself at this point. you spot his gloves on the floor and grab them, immediately handing them back without so much as a brush of your fingertips against his. he’s hurried and distressed when he tugs them back on, clenching his fist over and over again, as if to ensure his hands are safely hidden beneath the leather.

he doesn’t turn around. you stand behind him, one hand pressed to your chest, eyes swimming in tears you didn’t even feel rising to the surface.

“kaz,” you whisper. “i’m. . . i didn’t mean. . .”

“you got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he mumbles, straightening up. “i’m not asking you to return to the barrel with me so you can serve me, or whatever you think this is. i’m asking you to return so i can have you there. so we can be together again.” he glances over his shoulder. “as it should be.”

you stare at him, wanting to respond, wanting to tell him to go to hell, but you can’t lie. never before have you been able to look kaz in the eye and lie, and maybe that’s why you say nothing. he’s right in every sense - you and him are meant to be by each other’s side, no matter what. barrel born and raised, nobody understands you quite like he does.

but admitting that, throwing away every barrier you have worked so hard to put up . . . you can’t do it.

kaz waits a moment longer before laughing half-heartedly, sounding more exhausted than anything else. he lowers his head, black hair falling in his face before he swipes it out of the way, looks at you and says, “get out.”

“kaz-”

“stop saying my name.” he turns, tossing his tie onto the bed. “get. out. inej and i will be gone tomorrow.”

you swallow thickly, pushing away the tears. and then you do as he said, because standing in his presence for much longer is going to send you into a spiral you don’t think you’ll be able to crawl out of again. you’ve been down that road before, and it took everything in you not to be consumed.

----

“why do you look like you’ve been crying?” inej asks. she’s sat up now, a tray of soup perched on her lap. the colouring has come back to her skin, and she stands up whenever she wants to. whatever the palace medics did for her is working wonders, which you suppose is one thing you should be grateful for.

you lean over and dip a slice of bread in her soup.

“are you checking if it’s been poisoned?” inej jokes, and when you don’t respond, she sighs. “you and kaz have a fight?”

you wince, which is answer enough.

“what about this time?”

“he wants me to go back to the barrel with you.”

inej pauses, eyes still cast to her soup. you look at her, stomach curling in sudden realisation.

“wait,” you say. “did you know that was his plan this entire time?”

“no,” she replies, though she looks sheepish. “i genuinely was sick. kaz just. . . came along for the ride when he heard you were here.” she looks up and groans. “you can’t act surprised, y/n. what were you expecting? for him to just walk out and leave you here?”

“that would have been the right thing to do, yes.”

“well, you know kaz better than that. use your brain.” she waves a hand in your direction. “pass me another slice of bread and tell me about this argument.”

you don’t want to. all day you have been thinking about the feel of his hands on your face, his flesh against your own, the anguished groan ripped from his throat. he put himself through that to prove - what? that he loves you? that’s what he said, but it was only a few days prior he was claiming what you and him had was nothing. it was forgotten, and you were happy about that for the briefest moment. if kaz moved on, you could too.

but then he took the gloves off, and it was just. . . messed up again. you were left confused and guilty and pining, and you hated yourself for it. it was as if all that hard work you had put in to forget about kaz had been thrown out the window - trust kaz to come in and ruin everything.

“i can see what you’re thinking, you know,” says inej suddenly.

“can you?”

“take it from me,” she says. “kaz is never going to get over you. he’s never going to let you go. he’s never going to stop trying for you. he’s a stubborn bastard, and a stubborn bastard is even worse when they’re in love - which kaz is. disastrously, madly in love.”

“he said we were nothing.”

“he’s a stubborn and prideful bastard.”

you close your eyes, heart thumping. “i don’t know what to do, inej.”

“well, do you love him back?”

your eyes fly open. “what kind of question is that?”

she shrugs. “an obvious one, but i want to know the answer.”

you know the answer. your brain screams it at you. you have felt the answer in your bones every day since you left the barrel, and yet speaking it aloud feels like a betrayal of yourself from yourself.

so you look away, and as inej always claims, she can see exactly what you’re thinking.

a soft chuckle slips past her lips. “the barrel never leaves a person, y/n. and apparently, neither does kaz brekker.”

“what are you suggesting?”

inej shrugs. “kaz and i are leaving for ketterdam in the morning. there’s definitely room for a third person.”

----

you don’t sleep that night. neither does kaz.

you can hear him pacing back and forth in his room, no doubt replaying the days events over and over in his mind in the same way you are. his hands against your skin, his eyes piercing your own, those words he spoke that left you tingling all over.

even now, laying in bed, you can’t get over what he said. i love you. that was the jidst of it, and though you had heard that confession from him a few times in the past, it was different this time around. it was kaz trying to prove himself, which he never did before. if someone didn’t take kaz at face value, he wouldn’t bother.

and you have to admit, hearing him say those words was like a shot to the chest. they are the very words that have been on the tip of your tongue for months now, spoken only in dreams when you finally allow yourself to sleep. you can say them to no one else - just kaz. always, always just kaz.

and maybe this realisation is the reason you find yourself getting dressed at six in the morning. maybe this realisation is the reason you pack all your things into the ruck sack you came to the palace with. maybe this realisation is the reason you tip-toe to the courtyard, avoiding the eyes of the staff who all look at you like you’re some kind of prisoner escaping your cell.

it’s still dark. the grass is wet beneath your thin shoes, the jacket you have pulled on doing little to protect you from the icy winds coming from the ocean just feet away from the palace’s front door. hovering on the banks is a boat, a boat you recognise as The Mast, one of the many boats kaz has won from different people around ketterdam.

you nearly cry at the sight of it.

you don’t waste time waiting on kaz and inej - you don’t want to have this discussion with either of them until you’re safely on the water, until you can’t change your mind.

you clamber onto the boat, giving a sheepish smile to the stunned crew member - Daryl, you think he’s called - as he stares at you approaching. he offers you a hand when you finally reach the deck, his eyes never leaving your own.

“morning,” you say. “i’m y/n.”

“i know,” daryl replies, before tipping his hat. “it’s wonderful to have you back on board.”

you smile awkwardly, unsure how to respond; how much do the crew actually know about what happened between you and the crows? how many people bore witness to that god awful aftermath?

you decide not to wait around to hear the answer. instead, you tell daryl you’re going down to the cabins, and he doesn’t argue. you disappear beneath the deck, finding the first room with a bed and immediately claiming it as your own; despite the lack of sleep, you are not tired in the slightest. you can’t get kaz out of your head, how he is going to react when the boat eventually docks and he sees you strolling off of it, greeted by that rancid ketterdam air. back in the barrel.

you lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. you will fall asleep eventually. you’ll trick yourself into it.

and then the door opens.

your eyes snap open with it; you must have fallen asleep eventually. groggily, you lift your head and look at the intruder - and your heart immediately falls.

“kaz.”

he looks crazed, hair stuck up, eyes wild. behind him stands inej, grinning from ear to ear, though the minute kaz steps into the room, she disappears into the shadows, leaving you and dirtyhands alone.

his eyes never leave yours as he approaches. he marches to your bedside, grabs your hand and pulls you up.

“kaz-”

he shoves you against the wall, gun pressed to your temple. you inhale sharply, though you can’t claim to be surprised or scared. you stare into his eyes, watching his own trace your features, looking for any sign that you are here in bad company.

“kaz,” you whisper, because it’s always his name that fights past your lips. “it’s me. i’m going home.”

his grip slackens. the gun crashes to the floor, and before you can say anything, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. you are careful to rest your head upon his shoulder, not touching his flesh, but feeling him nonetheless. tears spring to your eyes, dribbling down the bridge of your nose and soaking the shoulder of his fancy suede jacket - one he stole from the kings wardrobe, you notice.

but you don’t pull away, afraid to go without his touch for another second.

“is this what you want?” he asks, voice muffled by your hair. “is this really what you’ve decided?”

“yes.” you pull away, hands sliding down his arms. “you’re right, kaz. the barrel is . . . it’s a shit hole, but it’s where i belong. it’s all i know. and you and me. . . we have to do this thing together.”

he narrows his eyes. “what thing?”

“everything.”

the corners of his mouth twitch. you can imagine kissing those lips, drawing him close and embracing in that way lovers often do. however, you’re content, happy even, with the way things are. you hold his gloved hands, and he says he loves you. you confide in him, and he confides in you, and sometimes you fight like children, but in the end, he will have your back no matter what.

“everything,” he repeats. “yeah.” he slips his gloved hands into the sleeve of your jacket, tracing his fingers along your crow tattoo, the one he matched, the one everyone matched when they decided to let the barrel take them over. you shiver, biting your lower lip. “you still have it.”

“i could hardly get rid of it,” you reply. kaz looks up, and you sigh. “i would never get rid of it, kaz. no matter what.”

he nods, rolling your sleeve back down. he pulls it over your wrist, covering your fingers before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the soft, rain soaked fabric.

he looks up at you again. “yes. no matter what.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker fanfic #soc #soc fanfic #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfiction #soc fanfiction #soc fic #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows fic

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beinmybonnet · 4 years

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hmmm ok, joe/nicky "colour"

(classic seeing colour soulmates au BECAUSE ALL THE TROPES FEEL NEW WHEN YOU’VE GOT IMMORTALS)

- you see the world in black and white until the day you touch your soulmate. when they die, you lose the colour they brought to your life -

“Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Nile comes up on Joe’s right shoulder, mug of tea cupped between her palms.

“Thank you.” He shuffles over so she can sit beside him on the bench, moving aside his paints. She’s studying his work intently.

“The shades here are perfect,” she tells him, eyes darting between the painting and the view before them, “it’s like the shadows are lifting off the canvas. What colours have you used?”

Joe’s smile is wide, and he flips his paintbrush to gesture with the end. “Here, whites and greys for the houses at the bottom of the hill. Here,” he points the handle higher, “yellows with pink, and then some red here, just as the sun rose.”

“So, that would be orange right here? Pale though?” she points at the right splash of colour and Joe turns, brow lifting in surprise. “Art History with a focus on colour differentials,” she says proudly. “My professor said I had the best monochromatic eye he’d ever seen.”

Joe promptly slides the paints across the bench and picks his spare canvas up off the grass. “Join me?”

“Really?” Nile grins, bright and eager as he hands her a brush. She hovers over the paints for a moment, chewing her lip between her teeth. Her eyes rove determinedly over the unlabelled paints and the sky, before she plucks up a purple pot. Joe has to resist the urge to wrap his arm round her shoulders.

Back when Joe had first leaned to draw, colour had meant nothing to him. He’d had chalks and charcoals as a child and had lost hours to sweeping strokes across paving stones. He’d learned to differentiate between subtle shadows and muted tones, blending new greys between his fingertips to smudge over his clothing.

Black, white and the thousand shades between them were comfortable and sure. Colour was just, unnecessary. As he grew, he was gifted graphite and dark inks and a roll of rough parchment was always tucked against his hip. He could recreate everything his eye could see and his mind could form with the two fundamentals in his hands. All his most treasured early memories remain this way; his mother’s shining ebony hair, the smoky shade of her skin. The bright white of his father’s teeth as he spun her around in front of their home.

But there’s still no denying that colour changed everything. Colour that had come into his world with all the subtlety of the man at its source. Suddenly his life had burst into bold tints and fierce hues; endless possibilities for him to explore with paints and oils and pastels. Nine hundred years to experiment with the vibrancy of the world around him.

He and Nile reach for the blue together and smile.

Nicky’s got his eye pressed tight to his scope when everything fades.

He’s dialling left, settling his weight into his hips and then a curtain of heavy grey drops across his view. He rears back rubbing at his eyes, trying to force the colours back.

“Shit… just- Book, hold up!” Andy’s voice crackles out of the earpiece Nicky’s placed on the rooftop beside him. He scrambles to jam it back in.

“Andy-”

“Take the shot Nicky.” There’s shouting coming from below and Andy is swearing vehemently. “I’ve got him, just take the shot!”

He lurches back into position trying to clear his mind. It’s all wrong though, the shadows too dark and his depth perception is ruined -he’ll have to start all over. The dilution of his vision is making his heart thump erratically, and he has to count breaths in his head to keep himself still enough to reline up the shot.

Seconds later, the target steps out of the blackness and Nicky fires. The bullet cracks off the window frame, striking home at a cruel angle. He swears under his breath; it wasn’t clean, but he doesn’t care – the job’s done. He just needs to find Joe.

He takes the stairs at a speed that leaves his knees numb. At the extraction point, the van is already moving away as the door slides open. Nicky hurls his gear in and leaps after it. He gets the briefest glimpse of eyes too dark, and thick pewter stains across a torso before the door is slammed shut and he’s hauling Joe into his arms. They collide with a thump and Nicky quickly tucks his face against the grey skin of Joe’s neck with his eyes clenched shut. A hand burrows under the edge of his tactical gear until he feels the warmth at the small of his back.

Nicky pulls back to open his eyes and relief has him sagging further into the arms around him. Warm tawny skin shines against the dark khaki of Joe’s vest. He drags his mouth up the rich line of his throat, reluctant to break contact.

“Sorry.” Joe’s expression is chagrined when he lifts his head. “Got pinned down.”

There’s a smear of blood at the corner of Joe’s mouth, the newly crimson stain brash and mocking. Nicky rubs at it with a gloved thumb until the skin is clean and then presses his mouth gratefully to his favourite colour.

“A lilac ribbon in her hair. First colour I ever saw.”

The slight waver in his voice makes Nile wonder if she’s over-stepped again, if she’s put her foot in some unknown no-go zone and she opens her mouth to apologise. But Booker’s smiling, and that in itself is rare enough that Nile waits.

“It happened in a crowd. Must have been a hundred people in the square, easily…” his smile is widening. “God, it would have been so easy to have missed her. Soldiers were separating people, everyone was running and pushing and we just… brushed hands.”

Booker lifts his hand from his lap and turns it over slowly. “The back of her hand touched mine as she ran past. That was all.” He touches that spot, a glance of his finger. “I looked back, and her ribbon was lilac. But it was so busy, I lost sight of her in the rush.”

“But you found her again?” Nile has her head propped on her hands, trying not to sound too eager. Booker laughs gruffly.

“She found me. Came back for me.” He’s gripping his own hand tightly now, nails biting at the skin. “Lilac ribbon, hair like honey. Everything else came after that.”

“She sounds lovely.”

Booker looks up at her properly, and Nile’s acutely aware that whilst now they see the world in the same shades, it wasn’t always that way.

His voice is soft. “She was.”

Joe barely has time to shout before his world is plunged back into negatives, colour leaching from his vision. He’s scrambling, sliding in the pool of viscous grey he knows is blood as it spreads around Nicky’s skull.

He moves to cup Nicky’s face and can’t bear it. The sharp edge of his cheekbone throws dark shadows over his too pale face. Flecks and streaks of black over his skin; blood or dust or ash, Joe can’t tell anymore and the panic is rising in his throat. He can’t look at Nicky’s colourless eyes – he can’t- he’ll carry the sight with him too long.

He tears his head away, his own eyes clenched shut – but before he has time to pray, to plead, Nicky is gasping beneath him. The breath Joe releases is sticky and harsh, and he’s curling forward in his relief. Their hands collide quickly against each other’s forearms in an instinctive, accustomed clasp, and colours start seeping back immediately. The first to return are the shades of blue; bright aegean tones bursting in Nicky’s wide eyes, chased into existence by familiar notes of green. The weight lifts off Joe’s chest and for a moment he just breathes, air that tastes sweet and smooth as his other senses adjust to the disruption.

Then Nicky’s rolling. “Let’s go, Andy.”

They’re stood close enough to see the tremble in Andy’s arm as she reaches for Quynh’s face for the first time in over four hundred years.

Joe is frozen at his side, and Nicky’s breath is jammed somewhere in the base of his throat. He can’t believe this is actually happening.

Andy’s hand falters just shy of Quynh’s cheek with a ragged sound, fingers hovering. She opens her mouth to speak but Quynh reaches up and clamps the hand desperately to her face with her own. They shudder so violently Nicky wonders for a moment if the ground has physically quaked.

He knows the sensation well; that fierce swoop in the stomach. Like he’s stepped into free fall as the world saturates around him at Joe’s first touch. When they can reach each other quickly after a death, colour comes back in slow, precious increments; the shining browns of Joe’s eyes, or the dusky pink that rises in the shell of his ear. The longest they’ve gone after a death was four days. Four days in an east Indian jungle trapped in wet, translucent tones of black and white, the frustration building until he’d screamed at the sky. When he’d finally gotten his hands on Joe, grasping desperately at his bared shoulders, colour returning was an immediate detonation that had left his whole body throbbing for hours.

Nicky can’t even begin to imagine what Andy and Quynh feel in this moment.

They go down as one, limbs folding together as they collapse into the dirt. Clutching at each other as their worlds transform. Quynh has Andy’s face trapped between her own palms now and is sobbing, laughing, trying to pull her closer. Andy’s tears are silent, but steady. Her eyes flitting over Quynh’s face in awe while she runs trembling fingertips over rosy cheeks she can see.

Joe is squeezing his hand so tightly his fingers have gone numb, but the rush of joy in Nicky’s chest is golden and fierce. To stop himself moving forwards to pull Quynh into his own arms, he steps behind Joe and tugs him back, arms looping firmly around his middle.

“See? We are meant to find each other,” he whispers. Joe chuckles wetly against him.

On the ground, Quynh is smiling through her tears. “You’re beautiful Andromache,”

Andy hums hoarsely and runs her hands over Quynh’s arms, coming up to cradle her collar through the thick fabric of her coat. Her fingers rub at the material and Nicky knows the scarlet shade must be iridescent to her eyes. Andy lifts a thumb to Quynh’s lower lip.

“Red always was your colour.”

adriana i’m so sorry this took so long. i physically couldn’t stop it getting longer and longer and then i got really stuck and it was a whole mess.

#the old guard #the old guard fic #joe x nicky #andy x quynh #soulmates au #userkayla #usermarwan #usercacau #tuserceleste #userbones #userlyde #usershan #tusermj #idk what happened here #can't write 5 sentences like a normal person #mine #prompt

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ghosttotheparty · 3 years

Text

the concept of permanence and its effects on the heart

AO3 Annie sighs, placing her now empty cup on the counter beside the sink. It’s dark, and the glass shines and glistens.

I’ll wash it tomorrow.

She rests against the counter, tugging the hair tie from her ponytail before tying it up again. The television in the living room is on (the light from it, flashing and shining, lit her way to the kitchen from her bedroom), and she assumes Abed is asleep on the sofa in front of it. It’s playing Inspector Spacetime. Annie recognises the exaggerated English accents, the sound of lasers being shot at tin. The volume is low.

Annie sighs again, closing her eyes and crossing her arms in front of herself, dropping her head.

It’s been quieter since Troy left.

(Abed is quieter since Troy left.)

She rubs her face, standing up straight and turning to leave the kitchen and shut off the tv. But when she looks into the living room, Abed isn’t asleep. He’s sitting up on the sofa, cross-legged with a blanket pulled around his shoulders. He’s holding it tightly, his fingers rubbing the fabric, and his eyes are shining, glazed, like he’s looking through the screen instead of at it. He doesn’t even look like he’s watching it. He looks like he’s just thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking, with the television as background noise, as a distraction.

He looks lonely.

“Hey, Abed,” Annie says gently so she doesn’t startle him, but he startled anyway, looking at her. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Hi,” he responds, almost just whispering. “No, I uh… No.”

“It’s late,” she tells him. It was a little past midnight last she checked as she worked on her forensics essay. “Don’t you think you should go to bed?”

He stares at her, like he’s looking through her, like she’s another screen, before looking away.

“One more episode,” he says.

She pauses, watching as he turns back to the television.

“Hey,” she says after a few seconds. “I haven’t seen Rachel in a while, how’s she doing?”

“We broke up,” he says without hesitating, and she blinks, jerking her chin back in surprise.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“But…” She shifts on her feet, wondering if she should sit next to him. “I thought you guys were really happy together, I thought you loved each other.”

“We did, it just… sort of fizzled.” He bites his lip, watching the Inspector pull a map out of his pocket, even though it looks too big too fit. “It just felt like we were going through the motions of a relationship. Going through tropes and dates because that’s what we were supposed to do. It didn’t feel like love love.”

“What… What does?”

He sighs, adjusting the blanket.

“It just feels different,” he says. His voice is stronger now. “Better.”

“Abed?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s it feel like to fall in love?”

After a second, he moves on the sofa, shifting closer to the armrest and gesturing subtly beside him. She sits, crossing her legs and facing him. Curious.

“It’s really nice,” he says softly. “It feels like coming home. They’re familiar. And comforting.”

Annie makes a mental note of Abed’s use of they’re, but stays quiet, listening intently.

“They’re safe. Like you can say or do anything and you know they won’t judge you or think you’re weird or want you to stop.” He speaks softly, like he’s forgotten he’s speaking to her, like he’s talking to himself.

“And you trust them,” he continues “Because you know they won’t hurt you. Because you know them and they know you.”

Annie doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want to interrupt. So she looks away, letting him speak, listening and listening and thinking and thinking.

“And it doesn’t even matter if they don’t feel the same way, or if they don’t know how you feel, or if they could never feel the same way, or…” His voice breaks at never, trembling and snapping like a dry leaf. He shakes his head, furrowing his brows lightly. He’s looking through the screen again.

“Because just being with them is enough. Just being around them, just knowing that they’re there is enough. It’s okay if they don’t feel the same because just existing with them is enough. It’s like floating in the middle of the ocean.”

She looks back at him. His eyes are shinier than before. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“It’s so peaceful and welcoming and beautiful, but it… feels dangerous. Like at any second something might pull you under and drown you.”

He’s quiet.

She doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, waiting for him to tell her something that will tell her yes, it’s exactly what you’re thinking, something that will confirm her suspicions about herself and him. But he doesn’t for a while, watching the screen.

“It sucks,” he says, and his voice cracks like he’s trying not to let it shatter. “It sucks, and I hate it.”

“Why?” she whispers. “It sounds beautiful.”

It does. It sounds amazing. And unfamiliar. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt it before, not with Jeff or Rich or Vaughn or any of the guys she liked in high school.

“It is,” he says. “It’s just… You can’t help it. When you fall there’s nothing you can do to catch yourself. You’re paralysed and you just have to hope for the best. Nothing hurts more than falling and just… crashing. Fucking face planting.”

Annie’s eyes widen. She doesn’t hear Abed talk like this often. He blinks and pulls the blanket tighter around himself.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he repeats softly. His voice becomes thick, softened with the tears flooding his eyes that won’t spill over. “Even when you try to ignore it and pretend it’s something different, something normal, it doesn’t change. And even though it sucks, it’s still beautiful and amazing, because you can just… You find them everywhere. They’re in everything that makes you happy, everything beautiful.”

Annie takes a deep breath, looking away, overwhelmed with realisations and realisations.

“And it sucks because it won’t leave you alone. They won’t leave you alone,” he says, and Annie wants to reach out and touch him. But she doesn’t. “Fucking everywhere. Everywhere I look,” he breathes, “he’s right there.”

Annie’s eyes swell, looking at the screen, and the colours blend and blur until her vision is a bleary mess of shifting blues and reds and shadows and light.

It makes sense.

The blanket from the fort, torn apart the day after Troy left, completely demolished while Annie was out, a pile of blankets and pillows and tape and ties and a melted Abed in the middle of it, curled into himself, clutching at the blue blanket, the same one that’s pulled around him right now.

The days and days Abed spent in the apartment, refusing to even get out of bed.

The red sweatshirt he wore for weeks until Annie convinced him to take it off long enough for her to wash it, and the way he cried when he got it back, murmuring that it smelled different.

The nonstop Inspector Spacetime on the television, playing and playing and playing even though it’s clear that Abed’s mind is miles and miles and miles away.

“Abed?” Annie asks softly, because he’s fallen silent and unmoving. He doesn’t respond, but his eyes shift from the television to the floor, still glassy and unfocused. He exhales, like he’s realised what he’s just told her. “Are you... Are you in love with Troy?”

It takes a few seconds, a few silent, empty seconds, and then he takes a deep, shuddering breath and nods so weakly he barely moves at all. And then he crumbles.

The tears finally fall and he leans toward Annie, turning his face into her when she wraps her arms around him, barely even noticing that she’s crying herself.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs when a sob breaks out of him, burying her face in his neck, against the blanket and his skin, trying not to let her voice shake. “That’s okay.”

“I don’t—” Abed chokes, and she shakes her head, hushing.

“It’s okay, Abed, it’s okay.”

He cries.

And cries.

She holds him, murmuring to him and doing her very very best to not let herself break. She’s never seen him like this, or heard him like this, sobbing, and whining and gasping, shivering, moaning, trembling, clutching at the blanket like it’s a lifeline.

When he calms down, he slumps, falling against Annie, between her arms, and she runs a hand through his hair, laying her cheek on his head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as his shoulders rise and fall.

“It’s okay,” she whispers after a few minutes of quiet, because she doesn’t know if he’s fallen asleep or not. She’d let him fall asleep, right here in her arms.

He takes a shaky sigh, and then says, “I know.”

She relaxes, leaning against the back of the sofa and lifting her leg to rest it on top of his lap. He lays a hand on her leg, rubbing gently at the fabric of her pajama pants.

“Have you told him?” she asks, and he scoffs.

“How would I?” he says, more than asks. “How would I tell Troy Barnes I’m in love with him? Troy Barnes…” he says, almost wistfully. “Star quarterback and prom king.” His voice cracks.

“You mean Troy Barnes, supreme dork?” Annie says, frustrated. “The same Troy that built a blanket fort across the whole school with you just because? And that got a gluon photo with you at a Spacetime Convention so you guys could be bound together forever?” His hand grips her leg, holding onto her like he’s bracing himself. “That held your hand in the hallways so you wouldn’t have to look up and get overwhelmed or overstimulated? That got you your first stim toy in your favourite color?”

Abed sighs again, nuzzling his face into Annie’s shoulder, and she presses closer.

“He loves you, Abed,” she says gently. “Even if it’s not the same way you love him, it won’t change anything, I promise.”

He’s quiet, and she would think he’s fallen asleep if his fingers weren’t still fiddling with her pants. There’s a little indent in the fuzz, where there’s a smiley face, and he runs his fingertips over it, scratching and rubbing it.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he finally says, so softly she almost doesn’t hear him.

“Of course.”

“The uhm…” He takes a deep shaky breath. “The whole apartment smells like the ocean. Like sea salt. All the time.”

Annie’s heart crumbles like a sandcastle and she exhales.

“That’s beautiful,” she says, because it is. Even though it hurts even her, and she’s never even been in love with Troy.

“I guess.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispers after a quiet minute, because she isn’t sure how much longer she can hold this thing inside of her, this thing she didn’t even know was inside of her, pushed away on a shelf and covered in dust.

“Tell me.”

“I—” She cuts off, taking a sharp breath and biting her lip, wondering how to say it. It takes her longer than she’d like, thinking and thinking until her brows are drawn and her lips are pursed. Abed waits.

“I think I, uhm… I think I’m a lesbian.”

“...Okay.”

Annie squeezes her eyes shut, letting tears cascade down her cheeks.

Okay.

She takes a gasping breath, trying not to let a sob rack her body, and Abed squeezes her leg, pulling at it so she comes closer.

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I love you, you know.”

The sob finally breaks free as she chokes out, “I know.”

He lets go of her leg and reaches up, holding her hand and then her wrist and just holding her so her arm presses against his neck harder. She tightens her arms around him, crying. Crying and crying.

“I love you too,” she whispers when she stops. “So much.”

He turns his head and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“It’s been a very emotional night,” he says lightly, and she chuckles tearfully.

“Yeah.”

“Look, it’s us,” Abed says, lifting a hand and pointing at the television. She’d forgotten it was even on, and she looks over Abed’s head to where Geneva and the Inspector are embracing. Annie giggles, hugging Abed tighter and rocking slightly.

“Do you wanna watch with me?” Abed asks gently, like he’s nervous, and Annie almost says no, but fuck it, it’s a Saturday.

“Yeah,” she says.

They readjust, so Annie is laying on his lap, her hands grasping his leg lightly. He carefully places the end of his blanket over her and unties her ponytail so he can run his hands through her hair.

Annie giggles at the show, at the accents and effects, and she feels Abed’s belly move as he giggles with her. She even laughs as she drifts off, until she falls asleep, gripping Abed’s pajama pants.

She doesn’t see the blorgons get knocked over like Dominos (which Abed knows she would have laughed at), or at the way Geneva says “You're a liar!” that sounds more like “lawyer” on account of her over-exaggerated British accent that sounds Australian (which Abed knows she would have laughed at).

She doesn’t feel Abed move as he retracts his hands from her hair and reaches over the armrest to his laptop on the floor.

He opens it to a map, blackish-grey with little red, glowing dots. He looks, watching them.

Him and Annie, side by side. Jeff and Britta and Shirley at home. Pierce in the cemetery. (Almost a comfort really, despite not being able to get the tracker back. Part of him hates to think about what would happen if he saw it move one day, but another part of him thinks it would be quite the adventure. But, though he’d never say it out loud to anyone but Troy, he wouldn’t want to see if move. He’d honestly hate to find out that Pierce faked it (which he wouldn’t put beneath him). He’d hate to hear what Pierce would have to say about… anything, really.)

He zooms out on the map, scrolling until the world spins and he finds the last red dot, floating in the ocean, miles and miles and miles away.

He watches it, until the tv stops and asks if he’s still watching. He ignores it, forgets about it. Annie moves on his lap, turning her head so her face presses against his leg.

He watches the dot like he’s expecting it to travel around the world by the time the sun comes up, by the time he blinks. It doesn’t move.

He closes the tab.

And opens his email.

And a draft.

And then he types.

Troy,

#im gonna fucking ~CRY~#i miss troy #ive had this idea for so long and I fINALLY DID IT #yay #community #trobed #community nbc #community netflic #troy and abed #troy and abed in the morning #troy barnes #abed nadir #annie edison #trobedison #troy and abed and annie

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cygnetofthesea · 3 years

Text

Across the Screen: Élite Fanfic

Nadia looks at Guzman for a long moment, her chest aching at the softness in his eyes. Even through a blue-light screen she could see the absolute love and adoration he held just for her. It never ceased to flip her heart inside her chest and it made it all the harder when she had to stay away from him.

And it was all the harder now, miles away with an ocean between them. The thought leaves a heavy weight and a painful twist inside her. She smiles tightly and looks away, trying to shield the sudden sadness in her eyes.

But of course, he was as tuned in to her as always.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly.

She shakes her head and forces her smile to look more natural as she looks back up. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Nadia, I know you. I know your silences all too well. Something is on your mind." His soft eyes shift then, looking vulnerable. "You can always tell me. You know that, right?"

Her smile this time was a lot more genuine, widening. She looks at him and nods, shifting her laptop to angle the screen better.

"Yes, I know. You're going to think I'm being ridiculous."

He lets out a startled laugh. "How could I ever think that, Nadia? You and I both know very well I'm the ridiculous one."

That gets a giggle out of her, her face moving closer to the screen with her laughter. He beams in response, feeling his chest swell at the knowledge that he could still make her laugh like that. He vowed to make sure he did it often.

"Now that we've cleared up any confusion, will you tell me?" he asks.

He leans back against his headboard, resting the laptop closer so his face takes up more of her screen. She loved his face in that moment and took a screenshot, wanting to come back to it when she was feeling low.

"I just," she looks away, biting her lip. "I just worry about you and I hate that we're apart. Especially after what just happened."

The last thing she wanted was to bring up painful memories of what had happened just a month ago. Guzman had been doing surprisingly well, all things considered and Nadia was fearful that bringing it up now would be hard on him, worse now that she wasn't there to comfort him.

"I miss you," she utters softly, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"Nadia." He says her name in a whisper but she hears the crack in his voice and feels that twinge in her chest once again. She put that crack in his voice. She shouldn't have said anything. "Nadia, please, look at me."

She quells the tears, blinking before meeting his gaze.

She can see his hand is extended on his side as though he was touching the screen in a vain attempt to reach her skin. It was a poor substitution but she knew she couldn't help return the gesture herself. Especially when she saw his glassy eyes looking back at her.

But there's a sweet, gentle smile that graces his lips, his thick brows furrowed upward in an affectionate and loving way.

He sighs her name again, his eyes roving across her face. Miles away and she can still feel the intensity of them burning through her, filling every molecule in her body.

"Nadia."

She lets out a shaky breath, her heart pattering against her chest. "Yes?"

"I was wrong: you are ridiculous."

His response catches her by surprise and she can't help the peel of laughter that escapes her, her head tossing back. Just like that, the heavy weight is gone and she's filled with his accompanying chuckle. Behind her closed eyes, shut in laughter, she can picture his beaming face perfectly.

Eyes crinkled as he smiles widely, his teeth in full display with hints of his gum. Allah, she loved that smile so much.

When she settles down and looks back at him, she saw that beautiful face as she pictured it. "Hmm, see and that is why I'm the smarter one between the two of us. How did I know you would say that?"

His broad grin relaxes, soft again. "Because I know you and because you are the smarter one. But you're not ridiculous for loving me, you're ridiculous for thinking I would believe your feelings to be. Never, Nadia. Your feelings are everything to me. You are everything to me."

She instinctively reaches out to caress his face, letting out a sigh when her fingers meet the screen once again. She pulls back and instead settles her fingers against her lips, wishing she could feel his skin there instead.

"Besides," he continues. "I'm too busy missing you to think of anything else."

She lets out a wet chuckle, her tears betraying her as they fill her eyes again. But she refuses to let them fall.

"I feel like that too." She looks around her new apartment that feels so foreign and sterile, devoid of warmth.

She had arrived at the New York City apartment she and Lu found together just a few days ago but it had already felt too long. Once Lu saw the state of the freshman dorms, she had immediately prowled for an affordable but luxurious apartment for the two of them that could be covered with their housing scholarship money. Lu may have been broke, but she was still very new to living a frugal life.

You could take the riches away from the girl but not the girl from the riches. But Lu had already proven herself to be quite resourceful if her Reverse Valentine's Party was any indication and had found them a nice apartment near campus, albeit a very, very small apartment. This didn't bother Nadia who was used to making do with what she had and loved their new place but Lu had huffed and whined about how this was the best she could find.

But as cozy as Nadia had found their apartment, it felt cold and empty. Or perhaps that was just what she felt.

Nadia shakes her head, annoyed with herself. "I really am excited for this new experience," she tells Guzman. "I mean, this is unlike anything I've ever had before. I've never been outside of Madrid before, too busy with school and helping my family with the store so this is huge for me. To not only study at a top school but to experience life in one of the most metropolitan and famous cities. It's amazing and I'm forever grateful, I just…"

She trails off, feeling ridiculous again. Who was she? The Nadia from two years ago would have shaken this mopey one sitting in one of the most exciting cities in the world. All because of a boy?

"I miss you too," she hears Guzman say. "So much."

And that's when she thinks, no, not just for any boy, but the boy she was in love with. The boy who fought for her in a way no one ever had. A boy who took her by surprise with his love and selflessness.

Nadia was always a tough person. She had resigned herself to looking out for herself from a young age when May would run off somewhere, sometimes days on end if not hours. Or when Omar would hang out with Samuel without her, only taking pity on her years later when they both realized she was essentially friendless after May left. But through all that--being abandoned by her siblings, dealing with the pressure from her parents and their immigrant's dream--Nadia learned to take care of herself. She learned to put aside her feelings and use her to head to get things done. She learned how to compartmentalize and push back the tears so her parents wouldn't see after May's departure left them broken. She learned to focus on tangible goals like grades and awards and scholarships.

But along the way, she forgot how to live. She forgot what it meant to be a young girl. She forgot what it meant to be a teenager, exploring her identity.

Then a pretty rich boy she hadn't looked twice made her look and helped her live simply by being there and supporting her every step of the way. He held an unwavering faith in her that even she didn't have. Sure, she believed in herself, knew she was smart, but there were moments of doubt when she would wonder if she could really live up to her parents expectations. Hell, her own expectations.

But Guzman never doubted her, not once. And it wasn't because he thought she was some superhuman that was leagues better than him--well, perhaps it was partially that--but it was also because he saw her for all her faults and finesse. For what made her flawed and yet perfect to him.

It was his faith in her that spurred this fire in him to stand by her, to protect her opportunities and make sure nothing stood in her way of achieving everything she ever wanted and deserved. Who did that?

How could she not love this boy? How could she not miss that boy?

Because with him, Nadia felt like she could sit for a moment and take a breath. With him, Nadia felt like she could stop and smell the roses every so often instead of constantly barreling to achieve one goal after another. With him she felt like she could slow down just a little and live. Be the young teenager that she actually was but that it didn't mean she had to lose sight of her ambitions.

So yes, she missed this boy, but Guzman was a boy worthy of her affections.

"Me too," she replies.

"I feel relieved that you miss me, that you love me, because I'm selfish and insecure like that," he chuckles bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I love you more and I don't want you to worry about me. Ok? I'm a big boy."

Nadia quirks a thick brow and lets a sly grin slip. "Maybe let's not talk about what a big boy you are right now. Lu's due back at the apartment soon."

She knew that wasn't what he meant but couldn't help teasing him. She loved seeing the playful look in his eyes and the inexplicable blush that would rise up his freckled cheeks. She still marvels at the awed look he gives her whenever she says or does anything that indicates she wants him. Guzman was no prude when she met him and he wasn't one with her either. They had seen, felt, and tasted every patch of skin on each other, a handful of times too, especially before her departure, and yet he never ceased to blush around her, his lashes lowering gently. It was one of the many surprising and endearing things about him.

"I like that's where your head is, minx," he says with a wink. "And we will most definitely get to that when we don't have intruders, but I mean it. You don't need to worry about me. I mean, don't forget about me, but don’t fret, my love. Not for me."

She sighs, feeling the tightening in her chest lighten at his words. There was a resolve in his gaze, a strength in them that she knew she had for her. He was being brave for her even though she knew he missed her just as fiercely.

"Our story has only just begun," he says. "That makes me happy."

"Even if it's seven hours away?"

He nods, his smile widening. "Yes, even then. Because it's you, Nadia. I knew what I was getting into when I pursued you, I knew it wasn't going to be typical, but you make my life better so it's all worth it. I would climb Everest for you."

She stroked her screen where she could see the laugh lines on his cheek. "I would too, you know?"

"You would?" He seems so boyishly hopeful then.

"Yes. You're worth it."

They pause to look at one another before Guzman lets out a smirk. "Well, let's tackle your parents first and telling them about us."

"That is climbing Everest," she says with a giggle. She thought he would laugh with her but when she catches the seriousness in his expression, she realizes the implication of her words. She would fight for him when the time came, she would face her parents and their inevitable ire and disapproval for him.

And as she mulled over that thought, her mind flashing to different versions of her parents' reaction, she knew it to be true. It was daunting but she knew in her heart that he was the one for her.

She nods, looking him in the eye. "Yes, I would climb Everest for you."

He leans closer to the screen until it darkens and she hears a smooch on the other end before his face appears on the screen. He had kissed his camera in lieu of kissing her. She put a hand on her thumping heart and returned the gesture with a wobbly smile.

"And until then?" he asks, biting the inside of his lip.

She ponders this. She hates missing him, hates feeling like her heart is in Madrid while the rest of her is in New York, but she would learn to cope. She would learn to love him across the ocean, across the computer screen while she built a life for herself, for them.

"Until then, we live. We live for ourselves, for each other, for the life we can build together. We focus on our studies and call each other. We push each other to be better and be there for each other when the other is suffering from sleep-deprived madness." She looks at him softly. "We love each other."

He lets out a wet, gasping sound, a cross between a sob and laugh, while nodding repeatedly. "Yes, yes, yes. I like the sound of that. I can manage that."

"That's good to hear. Me too."

Her eyes catch the clock near his bed, the very same she had told him to get rid of when it woke them up one morning with a horrifying blare. It was late in Madrid, already the next day even if it was only evening in New York. She could see the exhaustion under his eyes.

"It's late," she says. "You should get some sleep."

He shakes his head before she can get the words out. "No, no, I'm not tired," he says even as a yawn interrupts him.

She giggles and fixes him with a stern look. "Who's always right?" she asks, tilting her ear toward the screen, putting a hand up to cup around it. "Let me hear you say it."

He rolls his eyes teasingly. "Ok, ok, you are. Seriously, I'm going to have dreams of you scolding me." He pauses and rubs his bottom lip thoughtfully. "That might not be a bad thing. Might actually enjoy that."

She feels heat creep up her neck and brushes the skin under her ear, the space he'd kiss waking her up from a nap or every time he wrapped his arms around her from behind, or every time they….

She had to stop that particular train of thought and shook her head at him. "You enjoy that. But the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can dream of me."

He blinks slowly, the tell-tale sign that he was sleepy and would be nodding off soon. "Stay on until I fall asleep?" he asks, sliding his body down until he’s underneath his covers. He sets the laptop beside him, the space she would occupy when she visited him, and cups a hand underneath his cheek.

"You're so beautiful. I love you, Nadia."

She settles into her own bed even though she wasn't tired and set her laptop on the side Guzman would have occupied had he been there. When he would be there.

"I love you, Guzman," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. "Sweet dreams."

He keeps his eyes on her for as long as his heavy lids allow before drifting off to sleep with a gentle smile on his lips.

Nadia wasn't certain what the future would bring, but as she looked at the sleeping face of the love of her life, she felt a surety in her heart. They would be just fine.

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