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saiyan98 · 2 years

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A Heart Made Fullmetal (FMAB AU) Part 2

Disclaimer:

Winry (Rockbell) Elric: The following is a non-profit fanbase series. PJO, HoO and ToA are owned by Rick Riordan and Disney Hyperion. Please support the Official release.

Author: This story is dedicated to @winryofresembool on Tumblr. Thanks for making an amazing Caleo story AND being a Fullmetal Alchemist fan, keep up the good work. Some of the backstory is even inspired by her fanfiction, Things We Lost In The Fire. Do check it out if you are also a fan of Caleo.

Warning: Spoilers to Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. If you have not seen this anime yet, I really recommend you watch it. It's really good.

Table of Content

Part 1

Summary:

Our story takes place after the events of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. The Elric brothers are exploring other regions to understand other concepts and ideas about Alchemy, hoping to prevent another tragedy the boys once went through. Edward is now a husband to Winry (His childhood friend and first love) and a father to his two children. Meanwhile, our main character, Leo Valdez, is an engineer in the Amestris military and was summoned to the Fuhrer's office. That was the day his life made a big change. And maybe for good?

Time has passed and Leo is starting to get used to living in the country-side, especially with a certain flower girl. And he’s learning a lot about Autmail engineering with the help of Winry Elric. His time at Reesembol is showing great results, however, he must now face his ultimate trial yet. Can he succeed? Or will he forever be chained to his tragic past?

Story:

Alchemy: The Science of understanding, deconstructing and reconstructing matter. However, it is not an all-powerful art. It is impossible to create something out of nothing. If one wishes to obtain something, something of equal value must be given. This is the Law of Equivalent Exchange, the basis of all alchemy. In accordance with this law, there is a taboo among alchemists. Human Transmutation is strictly forbidden, for what could equal the value of a human soul?

[Insert Anime Opening: Again by Yui]

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Part 2: Sins of the Past.

In a small dark room, a little beam of light passes through the covered window. The light beams down on a certain mechanical engineer from Central. He groans as he tries not to wake up from the light.

Suddenly, someone knocks on the door.

“Leo! Wake up! It’s past noon already!”

Leo groaned, “Fine, I’ll get up, Sunshine.”

A loud slamming noise came from the door.

“Do not call me Sunshine!” She yelled.

Leo groans as he gets up from bed. It’s been about a couple of months since Leo was transferred to Resembool as Edward’s bodyguard; when really, he’s transferred to learn more about Automail Engineering, with Winry teaching him everything she knows about the subject. However, he had a bad encounter with his soon-to-be roommate, Calypso, a gardener who owns a flower shop. Despite their terrible first impressions, the two slowly but surely got along.

As Leo comes downstairs towards the kitchen where Calypso was making breakfast.

“It’s about time you got up, Leo. I wouldn’t be surprised if an earthquake couldn't wake you up.”

Leo scoffed, “Guess that shows how obnoxious you are, Sunshine.”

SLAM

Calypso slams her knife to the cutting board.

“Any more insults and you can forget your breakfast.”

Leo frowned confusingly.

“Breakfast? You’re making breakfast for me? That’s new.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s the least I can do since you've been fixing up the shop.”

During his stay, he fixed up several of Calypso’s stuff as well as her gardening tools. Despite their irritation towards each other, they watch each other’s health and safety.

But they won’t admit it.

“Now sit,” Calypso ordered, “Breakfast is about to be ready.”

Leo smirked, “I hope you didn’t poison it.”

She scoffed, “With that attitude, I probably regret not doing so.”

Leo laughs. He enjoys their little banters, makes him feel like he has someone to joke around with. Someone to enjoy life with.

“Still, thanks for making breakfast, Sunshine… I haven’t had home-made food in a long time.”

Calypso noticed the sad tone on his voice. He never sounded so depressed since his stay in Resembool. It worries her. But she won’t push it, she knows better than anyone that the subject is too much for Leo right now. After all, she too has something in the past she wants to bury.

“Well, for now, just eat and be ready to head to the Elric’s. I don't want you to be more of a nuisance to them than normal.”

“Oh please, Winry loves me. As for Ed, well, you know how he is. Always having a ‘short’ fuse.”

Calypso rolls her eyes, but she can’t stop herself from trying to chuckle.

[MEANWHILE]

Ed wakes up from his bed.

“Ed?” Winry asks as she was still resting in bed with him. “What’s wrong?”

“I sense a disturbance. Like someone just called me short and-”

BAM

Winry hits Ed on the head.

“Can you keep it down then?! I’m trying to sleep.”

“OW! Sorry, besides, weren’t you gonna teach Leo about Automail today?”

That woke Winry up.

“Oh that’s right! I need to prepare everything. Today’s the day.”

As Winry starts to get dressed, Ed asks, “What’s the occasion?”

“Leo’s gonna finally make his own Automail!”

Later that day, Leo was just about to exit the shop before Calypso called for him.

“Oh, Leo. Before you go, I’m gonna be making stew tonight so don’t be late for dinner!”

“Gotcha, Sunshine. I’ll be home before nightfall!”

Before she could reply, Leo already waved goodbye and walked towards Rockbell's home. That was the first time Leo ever called their place a home. It didn’t feel like it at first, but eventually it was a place he could return. Where he can be well grounded. Where he felt belonged.

Neither Leo or Calypso will admit it, but it made them both happy.

For Calypso, she was alone for a long time, even if the Elric family would come and visit sometimes. She never really made any friends or got into a relationship (doesn’t mean she never tried). To be frank, she just pushes everyone at arm’s length. She fears that if anyone knew of her past, they’d reject her. But she wouldn’t blame them.

But Leo was different. And she knew that.

She shook her head.

“No, he’s just a brat. An irritating, self-loving, annoying, handsome brat!”

It only took her a second to realize what she just said and started to blush. Thank goodness Leo wasn’t around, he’d tease her endlessly.

Meanwhile, Leo starts heading toward the Elric’s and wonders what Winry is gonna teach him next.

As he reached for the front door, he noticed Edward was outside, cutting some tree logs.

“Ed!” Leo yelled “What are you doing outside?”

“Oh, hey Leo. Winry wanted me to break some firewoods for today. She said that you’re ready to start making your first automail product.”

Leo grinned.

“Alright, I can’t wait!”

As the two were talking, Winry and the kids came out with drinks and snacks.

“Ah, Leo, you’re here! We still have time before we can start your first project. Why don’t you join us for some time off before we begin.”

Leo nodded and offered to help Ed with the firewood. As time passed, the adults were relaxing on the balcony while the kids were playing out on the field. Winry then asked Leo about Calypso.

“How’s Calypso doing?” She asked.

Leo shrugged, “She’s okay, I guess. Hates my guts still, but she seems to be getting used to my presence.”

Winry smirked, “Oh really?”

“What?”

Ed replied. “Calypso was always quiet and never got along with other people. She always pushes people at arm’s length.”

Leo frowned, “Why? Besides her rude personality, she’s beautiful and caring and is a really awesome cook.”

“Sounds like someone is having a crush,” Winry said with a teasing tone.

Leo blushed.

“What?! Me and Sunshine? Forget it!”

Winry laughs. “Already at the pet names stage?”

“W-what?!” Leo yelled while being red as a tomato. As Winry teases Leo about his bond with Calypso, Ed explains to Leo about Calypso.

“I can’t really say much about her personal life. That’s her choice to make. All I can say is that I met her on my travels in the west. Stuff happened and she moved here to Resembool. Winry and I helped her out on getting settled here. Though, like I said, she never got close to anyone other than us. She distances herself from others because of…” Ed was quiet for a moment. Leo wanted to know more, but Ed continued.

“Sorry, I can’t say any more of it. It’s… too much.”

Leo notices the grave look on Edward. He has this grim look, as if he remembers a past he never wanted to face.

Leo understands that better than anyone.

“Anyways, let’s go ahead and start getting ready to make your own Automail,” Winry interrupted and changed the mood in the air. Leo and Winry started getting up and headed inside while Ed stayed with the kids outside.

Winry began what Leo’s first Automail is going to be.

“A while ago, I got a request from Rush Valley. A mother who lost her arm in an accident needs an automail left-arm. She was saving her daughter from getting hurt and ended up losing her arm. She’s okay now, but she wants to be able to hold her daughter again. She already went through the therapy needed to connect to her new automail arm. We just need to make the arm; that’s where you come in. I’ll be assisting you but it’ll be your handiwork.”

Leo understood and began his planning. The two spent most of the day blueprinting the arm with the given numbers of sizes for the mother. Normally, Leo would try to improve the model with some insane mechanism or something. But this request was for a mother who wants to hold her child. Sometimes even the simplest things can make a big impact when you lose the ability to do it.

“Okay,” Winry said. “We can begin on making the Automail. For now, we’ll work on the wires and twigs and then tomorrow we’ll use the furnace to make the metal.”

Leo flinched.

“I’m sorry, furnace?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, That’s why Ed made those firewoods earlier. Tomorrow, we’re gonna use the fire to make the metal part and adjust it to her style. It shouldn’t be too hard, but I’m sure you can-”

“I’m sorry, Winry. But, is it possible to do this without using any kind of fire-source equipment?”

Winry frowned.

“Is something wrong, Leo?”

Winry can’t see his expression, but Leo has a pale expression on his face.

“Sorry, I just can’t work with equipment involving fire.”

Winry noticed that Leo was shaking.

“Leo? Are you okay?”

Leo turned around and gave a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not very comfortable near a fire is all. Everything else I can manage, I promise.”

Winry doubts his reassurance, but she won’t push it. But she will definitely tell Edward about it. The way his body was shaking was similar to that of Edward's back then; after he stopped her from making a mistake and shot Scar at Central.

The way his hands were shaking, he was just as scared and angry as she was. Yet, despite that, he stayed strong for her, telling her that her hands were used to help lives, not take them.

The way the boy was shaking, she knew instantly that Leo was hiding something.

Something too tragic to face.

The day passed as the two mechanics worked on the wires and cables for the arm. They mostly just gather the necessary components and then connect them together for when it’s time to combine them with the metal components. It was already past noon and it was almost time for dinner.

“We should be good now, let’s go ahead and clean up, call it a day, I gotta go make some dinner for the family.”

Just as the two were finishing up, there was a knock outside and a familiar voice spoke.

“Hello? Winry? Edward? It’s Calypso.”

Winry wiped her hands of dirt and oil and went to the front door.

“Oh, Calypso. Something wrong?”

“No, I just came over to bring some food for Leo. You know how he is when he’s working.”

Winry stomach grumbled. She blushed.

“He’s not the only one.”

The two laughed as Winry asked her help on making dinner. As Leo finished up cleaning, he noticed Calypso heading to the kitchen with Winry.

“What are you doing here, Sunshine?” He asked.

“You didn’t come home so I brought some food to eat, but since you and Winry did a lot of work today, I’m gonna help make dinner.”

Leo shrugged, “Can’t help it, once I’m in the zone, I lose track of everything.”

Winry nodded.

“Couldn’t agree more, there were times even I would be in my office for days and Ed would have to literally pull me out of my room to rest. Even the kids had to help.”

Calypso sighed, “You mechanics have no remorse for your own health.”

As Winry and Calypso went to make dinner, Leo went out to find the Elric family and bring them in to eat.

The family, along with Leo and Calypso, ate and talked at the diner table.

Winry would usually talk to Leo about their project while Calypso would talk to Edward about her day. Sometimes the four would talk about their past, none of the traumatic moments.

“There’s this one time, Ed and Al once destroyed an entire block in Rush Valley because of Ling’s bodyguards.”

“Ling? Wait, THE Emperor Ling of Xing?!” Leo asked.

A while ago, there was a meeting between the Fuhrer of Amestris and the Emperor of Xing to arrange an alliance and unite the people toward a peaceful future.

Ed scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s Ling. Bastard came to our country and I was one that paid for most of his payments. He still owes me!”

Leo and Calypso laughed.

“I can’t believe you met the Emperor before! What, did you also meet the Brigadier General of the North?”

“Oh, you mean the Major’s sister? We have, actually. She may look fierce, but she has a good heart underneath.”

Leo was baffled at the answer, but he did notice that Edward was shaking in fear when he mentioned the General.

“You must have traveled a lot back then.” Leo commented. “What were you doing at the time? Alchemy research?”

Ed flinched at his question and Winry noticed it immediately.

“It’s kind of a long story… and a tragic one too. It’s best that we don’t talk about it.”

Leo wanted to ask more, but he understood.

The rest of the day was just all them talking about old times and learning more about each other.

Yet, no one had the courage to talk about their darkest secrets.

I mean, who would want to ruin such a peaceful day.

As Leo and Calypso said goodnight to everyone, the two walked home together.

“Thanks, for coming to check up on me,” Leo said.

“If I didn’t, I’d find you on the floor dying of hunger.”

Leo laughed and nodded.

“Still, I appreciate you watching over me, even though you can be a handful.”

Calypso took a jab at Leo’s hip for the comment, but smiled regardless.

“You’re still an irritating mechanic mutt. But, you help out a lot at the shop so I’ll… manage it.”

As the two walked off, at the Elric’s house, Edward and Winry watched the two walk off as Winry noticed the two slowly getting along.

“How long until the wedding?” She asked teasingly.

“Weren’t the two at each other’s throat a few weeks ago?”

Winry sighs at her husband's idiocy.

“You idiot, you never understood romance.”

“And yet, you married me.”

Winry shook her head, smiling as she went off to take the kids to bed. Meanwhile, Ed headed toward the living room’s telephone to make a call.

“Hello? This is Edward Elric, I need you to make a connection to the Fuhrer.”

After giving his military code for confirmation, Mustang answered.

“Ah, Fullmetal, this is a surprise. You don’t normally call unless you need something. Despite the fact that you still owe me.”

Irritated, Edward replied, “It’s only 520 cens you money groveling bastard! Anyways, I’m not calling for a favor. There’s something I needed to discuss about Leo.”

“The Corporal? Something happened?”

Ed explained what Winry told him after dinner.

“I see…”

“Colonel?”

“How many times do I have to tell you! It’s Fuhrer now!”

Ed scoffed, “I wouldn’t care if you became king, you’re still Colonel Bastard to me.”

Mustang sighed and spoke, “Anyways, I think I know why he got agitated about fire.”

Late at night, Calypso woke up to some noises coming from the next room. She got up and went to Leo’s room.

She knocked on the door to see if he’s awake.

“Leo?”

There was no answer, but then a loud thump came from inside. Worried for his safety, Calypso opened the door and found Leo on the floor, sweating and panting. Calypso went to his side and tried to wake him up. She shook a bit and kept calling out his name. Leo was still asleep but she noticed him mumbling.

“Mom… don’t…”

Calypso was getting more worried and started yelling out his name. It was after the third time she yelled when Leo woke up.

Panting, Leo spoke, “Calypso? What are you doing in my room?”

“I was worried! You were on the floor, sweating and panting! Did you have a nightmare?”

Leo was shocked that Calypso was worried for him. But I know why this happened. After what he learned today at Winry’s house, he knew he had to confront his past and trauma eventually. Maybe it was best that his roommate knew it first.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. I just… remembered something I wanted to forget.”

Leo and Calypso got back on the bed and sat down by the edge.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Not really… but I have to eventually.”

Leo took a deep breath and looked at his hands. He noticed that they were shaking a lot, not just because of his ADHD. But rather, in fear.

“Take your time,” Calypso said. Grabbing his hands and reassuring him that he’s safe. Leo looked at her and he started to calm down a bit.

“… A long time ago, I used to live with my mom at our old mechanic shop. She loved fixing stuff, though I don’t know if she knew automail engineering. Anyways, we were happy, I’d watch her from afar as she fixed cars, electronics, almost anything really. Sometimes she’d ask me for help and I’d do the best to my ability to help her out. It was hard work, but we were happy.”

Calypso noticed Leo was smiling while reminiscing on the past. She won’t deny that it was a beautiful smile. Not your average Leo grins or smirk. A good, honest, loving smile.

“My mom and I loved our shop. People would come and we’d just help out the best we can. My mom always loved helping people. My dream is to be like her, helping people and fixing things. The family business.”

Leo chuckled.

“Then… I made a mistake. And it got my mom killed….”

The setting begins at Central City, where the Valdez live. Esperanza Valdez was at the garage, fixing up a car while Leo was at the back, trying to make a gift for Mother’s Day. He was almost done but needed to make one final adjustment. Leo headed to his mother’s workshop to get some tools.

Normally he asks his mom for the tool, but he already knew what he needed, despite being very young. As he went to the table, he grabbed a screwdriver and started finishing up his project. It wasn’t anything fancy, Leo made a little metal flower.

It was supposed to symbolize love everlasting.

As he was running to show his mom his gift, he accidentally tripped on a wire and it got plugged off the wall. Just as it was disconnecting, a small spark burst and landed on the floor where oil was around. Flames started to burst and Leo was freaking out, he called out for his mom and she came as quickly as possible.

“Leo! Get back!” She yelled. Leo got up and ran towards his mom, but the flames got too close to the oil barrels and it exploded.

Leo got knocked out for a moment, but when he woke up, he looked around and noticed that his mom was down on the floor, pinned to a pillar from the ceiling.

“Mom!”

Leo ran towards his mom and tried to lift the pillar off her.

“Leo… run…”

“Hang on, mom! I’ll get you out!”

Flames were spreading everywhere, smoke was making it difficult to breath, if Leo doesn’t get his mom out of the fire soon, they’ll both suffocate.

Leo called out for help, hoping someone would come save his mother.

Esperanza was in pain but was more concerned for her son’s safety.

“Leo, get out of here. Mommy will be fine,” She lied. She can’t feel her legs and starting to lose consciousness, but she can’t let her son die.

But Leo wouldn’t give up on saving his mother. Suddenly, someone knocked out the front door entrance to the garage.

“Anyone here?!” Yelled someone.

Leo called them out and they ran toward Leo and Esperanza.

Leo couldn’t see his face but he noticed that it was a man.

“My mom is trapped! Help me!”

The young man helped Leo try to lift but the pillar was still attached to the ceiling.

“I’m gonna try something, hang on!”

Before Leo could ask, the man clapped his hands together and placed them on the pillar. Suddenly, the pillar disintegrated and freed his mother.

“Okay, we got it out, but now we need to-“ The man stopped mid-sentence as he realized the state Leo’s mother is in. A metal bar was piercing through her and blood was spilling out through the wound.

“Mom!” Leo yelled.

“Hang on, We’ll get you out.”

“No!” She yelled. “Get my son out of here. Please!”

“But Mom-“

Leo’s mom looks at Leo with a calm smile.

“Live for mommy, sweetie. Live…”

An explosion erupted behind her and Leo got knocked out.

When he woke up, he was outside. Firefighters arrived and got rid of the flames.

But that day, Leo lost everything.

Calypso listened to the whole thing, shocked at what Leo had to go through at such a young age.

“After the fire, I never got to meet the man who helped me, my mom was the only family I had. She ran off from her family a long time ago and they never got in contact since. I was brought in for foster homes but I got taken in by this nice family. A mother and a daughter who lost their father/husband in the military. They never told me how it happened, just that he was trying to help people. Since the fire, I’ve been afraid to be near anything with flames, from simple sparks and candles to bonfires and fireworks. A little candle gives me an anxiety attack. I try not to think too much about it, but every once in a while I start getting nightmares, about my mother dying and I could see my younger self, telling me it’s my fault. That she died because of me.”

Leo sighed, “Sorry Calypso. I didn’t mean to put all this out on you. Get some rest, I’ll-”

Calypso hugs him tightly, not knowing that she has been crying this whole time.

“You idiot, this is your home. You don’t need to hold back, just let it out. I’ll be here to hold you tight.”

Leo was shocked at the gesture, but the warmth of Calypso’s hug brought out all the memories he had with his mother. All the time they made snacks; when she read him his favorite story; when he watched her work. All of his childhood memories were coming back to him.

He couldn’t help but start to cry as he hugs Calypso back.

Despite their first encounter with each other, Calypso had brought a lot of new, fun and exciting memories.

Here, he truly felt at home.

The next day, Leo woke up late. As he got up, he noticed something shifted next to him. He looked and saw Calypso sleeping soundly right next to him.

Leo remembers what happened last night and smiles.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” Leo said as he stroked a small piece of hair behind Calypso’s ear. He blushed at the gesture and wondered why he would do that. He gets up and tries to wake up Calypso. She groans and turned around.

“Come on, Sunshine. It’s time to get up.”

That woke Calypso up; as she got up, she realized that she’s still in Leo’s room and blushed. She remembers the events that occurred last night and apologized to Leo for last night. Leo shook it off, saying it’s fine.

“This is your home, Sunshine. Your house, your rule.”

“This is your home too, Leo!” Calypso replied. “I mean, you already made improvements to my shop and fixed my gardening tools. Everywhere I go in my house, I see your handiwork.”

Leo smirked, “You love my work, don’t you?”

Calypso groans in annoyance, “And the annoying mechanic returns. And here I thought I’d finally get some peace and quiet here.”

Leo laughs, which then Calypso joins afterwards.

Neither will deny the fact.

Last night, their bond grew closer.

As they both got up, Calypso went and made breakfast, while Leo made his bed and changed for the day. As the two ate breakfast, Calypso spoke.

“I want to help you,” Calypso said.

“With what? I know that you can sew and weave too, Sunshine. But, my projects don’t really involve much of those, besides the wires of course.”

“I meant your trauma to fire. I want to help you confront it.”

“Oh…” Leo was quiet for a moment as he continued eating.

“I understand that it’s hard to get over something like that. But I’m sure that with some effort, you can confront your fears and achieve even greater feats. It’s what your mom would’ve wanted.”

Leo pondered at the idea. As much as he wants to avoid fires as much as possible, he knows he has to eventually confront his fear if he ever wants to achieve his dream.

“Have I ever told you about my dream? My goal?” Leo asked.

Calypso shook her head.

“… I dreamed that someday, I can be like my mom and help people. Fix things and make stuff. That’s why… I planned to reopen my mom’s shop. Rebuild it from the ground and help people like my mom used to do.”

Calypso smiles.

“That’s a lovely dream, Leo.”

Leo hides his blush.

“Why do you want help?” Leo asked. “I know this is your house and everything, but my trauma isn’t really your concern. So… why?”

Calypso was silent for a while. Later on, she took a deep breath and confessed.

“I… also went through something traumatic… a long time ago.”

Leo frowned in confusion as Calypso prepped herself to tell her tale by bringing them both some coffee she made.

“When I was little, my father was an alchemist here in Amestris. He heard of the theory of Chimera’s and tried to conduct them himself. Chimeras are creatures created by mixing one animal species with another. My father once heard of an actual talking chimera here in Amestris and wanted to improve such experiments. He helped the Amestris military create such experiments with some of their soldiers with the works of another alchemist, a Shou Tucker, I believe. He… he had no morals and would use whatever resources he could use. And…”

Calypso gripped tightly on her cup of coffee. Leo noticed the expression and reassured her that she’s safe by grabbing on to her hand gently but firmly.

She took a deep breath and continued.

“After the rebellion that occurred in Central, he fled west and continued his work. He would kidnap stray kids and homeless people just to continue his work. And… Most of those experiments ended with failures and the people suffered for it.”

“Oh my god…” Leo said, shocked at the horrible memory.

“That wasn’t even the worst part. Eventually, my father found a theory to create the perfect chimera, but he was out of test subjects and he was wanted for the kidnappings. So…”

She didn’t finish, but Leo understood what she was gonna say.

“He was gonna use you as his experiment?”

Calypso nodded hesitantly.

Leo’s grip on her was tighter, not out of fear, but out of anger.

“He’d used his own daughter just for his experiments?!”

“He wasn’t able to, thank goodness. I was saved.”

Leo sighs in relief.

“Who saved you?” Leo asked.

Calypso smiles, “The man who saved me, was none other than Edward Elric himself. The Former Fullmetal Alchemist.”

[Insert Anime Ending: Uso by SID]

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Next time:

After finally expressing each other’s true pain and loss, Leo and Calypso work together to confront Leo’s trauma. Along the way, the bond between the mechanic and flower girl grows stronger. But, like a flower, such beauty shall wilt in time. Will Leo once again lose a home, or will he have to give up his dream of reopening his mother’s shop? Can he confront his trauma and finish his training on Automail engineering? The conclusion to this story shall decide the fate of these two broken souls.

Next time on Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood:

Part 3: A Heart Made Fullmetal.

To heal a broken soul, you can not do it alone. It takes two halves to create a whole. Only then can your heart truly heal.

A/N: Ugh, I know. I shouldn’t end it there, but if I continue the chapter, I’d never finish on time. I got stuck at Leo’s backstory because I couldn’t find a good way to interpret his trauma to fire along with the death of his mother. Hopefully it was good enough. I’m sorry if you don’t like it.

Also, I’m sorry for the late post. Due to work, I got very fatigued and got knocked out on my bed once I arrived home. But things are slowing down and I’m now back in school. Plus, I have an hour gap between my classes so I can work on my stories every Tuesday and Thursday.

#Caleo #leo x calypso #calypso x leo #Leo Valdez #calypso #percyjacksonandtheolympians #Heroes of Olympus #trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #fanfiction #edward elric #Winry Rockbell #Edward x Winry #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fmab

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mandoposting · 3 years

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thanks to @letsunity for the laughs

Taglist: @ct-9904, @xviii-themoon, @twisted-falcon, @findhimfives, @the-dreamy-space, @fake-fullbuster, @parkotedarasuum, @beckettsmeckett, @icanbringyouincold, @limeyartspinningtales, @persaloodles, @1-or-a-0 dm/send me an ask if you'd like to be added/removed (especially for this because i forgot who wants to be tagged for only OC stuff :| sorry that's my bad for being disorganised)

#this is dedicated to a certain friend who keeps forgetting breakfast :)#this is so sketchy jnfdjsnd but its cause im focusing on a howzer piece <3 #god i didnt anticipate the actual struggle of drawing some one drinking left handed wtfff #echo my love <3 my light #omfg ignore hunter's bandana skull switching places lmaooo #thats what i get for flipping the canvas #am i capable of drawing anything without harsh lighting? no <3 #tbb #bad batch #the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars #echo #hunter #mandodrawing #yes echo you are doing better than him. in more ways than you know <3

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idontblushsrry · 3 years

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SFW Alphabet|| Megumi Fushiguro

A/N: Uhhhh I’m back on my bullshit >:) it’s missing Fushiguro hours folks.

Word Count: 2050

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

(If you want some more in depth affection headcanons click here)

Fushiguro is someone who isn’t big on pda but makes up for it in private. In public, he’ll hold your hand but in private he’s laying i your lap while you massage his scalp. Basically, he’s a big softie that just represses his urge to cuddle until he’s alone with you.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Best friend Megumi is literally the president of the Y/N defense squad. If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with him. Of course, you have to rein him in sometimes and remind him you can fight your own battles, but just know he’s lookin out for you.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Fushiguro loves to cuddle, but he will repress the urge to do so for as long as possible. Because of that, he doesn’t let you go, preferring to cling to you throughout the night. His cuddles are always deceptively loose too. His arms give you just enough wiggle room but the second you try to get up, it’s like fighting two pythons.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I don’t think he ever really planned on settling down, Megumi figured that he’d die long before he ever got the chance to settle down. Everyday is pretty much a new experience in terms of domesticity for him, he doesn’t have plans for the future, but as long as you’re with him, he’ll be happy.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he ever had to break up with someone, he’d probably ask for help on how to do so. The first person he’d ask (regrettably) would be Gojo who’d tell Megumi to just ghost the person. After asking around some more, he figured Kugisaki’s approach of getting it over with as bluntly as possible (although less mean) was the best option.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Megumi isn’t really the type for wedding ceremonies. He’s all about commitment (even though working up to marriage for him is longer than most) but he’s not a fan of being the center of attention, so a wedding ceremony/reception wouldn’t be his thing. If you wanted a ceremony, he’d be willing to compromise somewhat but otherwise, he’s perfectly fine with just going to the courthouse.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s kind of rough around the edges. In private, he can be the sweetest, most tender soul, but in public he’ll put 7 yards of distance between you both if you try to hug him. Basically, he’s very shy, so anything that’ll draw too much attention is a no go (he isn’t opposed to linking pinkies though).

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

At first Megumi really only hugged you when he was missing you, sad, or tired. Over time though, he got better at becoming more open with his affection and he’ll hug you whenever he feels the urge to. Despite that though, his hugs still have an undercurrent of desperation in them. He holds on just as tight each time like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

He’s operating on a very strict ‘If you don’t say it, I won’t’ policy and as such this man will not say a single thing to you unless prompted. He knows deep down that he loves you and that you set off butterflies in his stomach every time you smile, but he never really thought to verbalize that until you say ‘I love you’ first.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

Megumi doesn’t get jealous, he’s fought side by side with you and he knows you’re more than capable of fending off any unwanted suitors. Megumi put a lot of trust into you by already being in a relationship so to him, it makes no sense to be jealous over you. That all being said, he’s not above the occasional side eye if someone’s getting a little too buddy buddy.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

On a normal day, his kisses are so natural, he’s so slow and the pressure is just enough to have you thinking you’ve got all the time in the world. In near death/ post-near death circumstances, he’s a little more feral. When he kisses you like that, it feels like it’s the end of the world and he’s trying to make the most of it.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Fushiguro isn’t good with kids that aren’t old enough to communicate. Older kids are fine with him, but guessing what a baby needs based on how loud it’s crying? Hard pass for him and he doesn’t even feel bad about it. The last time he had to watch a baby, he tried to leave one of his shikigami to watch it; long story short, he had to explain to a cackling Gojo why his demon dogs wouldn’t let him leave to go to the bathroom.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Fushiguro are pretty rare. Most of the time you guys don’t really get to sleep in or even spend mornings together since most of the time there’s missions or trainings you’ll have to go to. When you do get the rare morning off, Fushiguro makes the most of it. He sleeps in and doesn’t wake up before 10 no matter what you try. When he does finally wake up, he loves cooking breakfast with you, he’s not the best cook, but he treasures the experience over anything.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Megumi are also rare as most curses come out at night and that’s kinda your guys’ job. If all goes well though, you’ll both come back a little earlier and just go straight to sleep. If it’s a late night where the curse took more out of either of you than expected, yall usually stay up and talk and snack until one of you falls asleep or the sun comes up.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It takes him an extremely long time to open up to you about his past. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want you to think less of him for it (especially during his problem child era). To be honest, you probably find out about certain things from other people. Once he’s cornered confronted, he’ll be completely (albeit a bit grudgingly) honest about it.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

His anger is kind of weird, whereas before, he was a lot quicker to explode, bluntly telling off or even fighting whoever pissed him off, he’s changed. He tries his best to repress his emotions and as such, he comes off as patient, never expressing his true feelings/desires until pushed to the brink.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s the king of remembering details you mention in passing. His love language is partially acts of service so for him, remembering details about you helps him later. Oh remember that one time you needed a pen/pencil but didn’t have one? Never again, this man has a section of his shadows dedicated solely to pencils because of you. Oh what’s that, you like this random song? Guess what just got added to the playlist he made for you. Basically, while he may not look like it, he’s actually a simp and so if he can make your life easier/ make you happy, it’s worth it.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

So Megumi is someone who doesn’t play video games but is really good at them for no reason. One day, you’re playing a game of smash bros. and he’s just kicking your ass, like it was sad. Needless to say, after his 4th win, he “accidently” pressed the wrong button and let you win. He thinks you don’t know he did this but when you won, you kissed him and completely flustered him, to the point that he couldn’t play for a solid 5 minutes.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Despite knowing and trusting that you can defend yourself, he’s still super protective of you. You’re one of the few people that he cares about in the world and he’d give everything to see you safe and protected. As for how he’d like to be protected, knock some sense into him every once in a while. He has a habit of self sacrificing so if you want to protect him, remind him that you want to keep him alive as much as he wants to keep you alive.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

On the outside, his dates are very simple. They usually consist of you and him either staying in or just hanging out at stores and the like. Every once in a while, he’ll try to take you somewhere special, like a cove he found or a festival. For most people, these may be simple dates, but Fushiguro puts so much effort into so may aspects of your dates that honestly, anything bigger would lose the personal touch your dates have.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

One of his worst habits is his self-sacrificing tendencies. Even during a baseball game, he can’t help but sacrifice himself (especially if it means his friends/ you get to get the glory). With time though, he grows out of this and realizes it’s not selfish to want the best for yourself.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s giving “I woke up like this” and it’s... it’s something. One might think the style is intentional since obviously, the look could only be achieved with gel, and to an extent, it is intentional. He might use gel to spike it a little more but the man legit rolls out of bed and chooses to leave his hair up like that.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, as much as he loves you, Fushiguro is an introvert. He needs time to just be by himself and unwind every once in a while, so he’s got no complaints if you leave him to his own devices or have to be gone for a long time.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

Megumi has negative zero relationship experience. He’s never found someone that was worth the risk/ worth opening up to, hell, he just barely got friends when he entered high school. Because of this, every part of your relationship is like navigating uncharted waters.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

He’s less someone to dislike a specific thing/ personality trait, and more someone who doesn’t like different people for different reasons, ex. Todo and Mai. If he had to pick a single trait, it’d probably have to be hypocriticism.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He is someone who will fall asleep spread eagle one night and the next be huddled into a tiny little section of the bed. Mercy on you if you try to cuddle because now you’re wrapped up into his unconscious acrobatic routine.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen imagines #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro jjk #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #black reader #black!reader #idontblushsrry #x black reader

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smoochkooks · 4 years

Text

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass.

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck.

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.”

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up.

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. [1:24pm] jungkook:

please

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.

“Hello, doll.”

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.

But you accept your fate the way it is.

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”

“I know. He told me about you.”

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back. “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:

At least text me if you’re okay

Please

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay

Night, miss grumpy

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.

[10:45am] jungkook:

Do you have time now?

I need to tell you sth

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was.

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response.

[10:46am] me:

I guess

[10:46am] jungkook:

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”

“Should I be scared?”

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.

“Okay. I agree.”

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers.

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”

“Taehyung.”

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.

“Is somebody jealous?”

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.

“What is it?”

“You’re invited to a party.”

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?”

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”

“Good.”

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features.

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life.

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.

That your little infatuation had a sequel.

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls. You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away.

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”

“Ladies first.”

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”

“Exactly!”

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes.

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing. You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening.

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.

“So good,” you mewl.

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh.

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,” You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss.

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“Always.”

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.

[5:55pm] jungkook:

We’re departing in 20 minutes

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.

[6:01pm] me:

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.

However long it takes.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #my writing #lost stars

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dreamiesdotcom · 3 years

Text

shooting star | n.jm

Summary: You take a pen, resting your cheeks on your palms as you lazily think of words to write — now and then, you lock gazes with Jaemin and you pretend that the red in your cheeks is just of the cold.

Word Count : 3.9k

The rooftop is big, but it feels a little crowded.

The addition of people is not bad, you think, especially since those people make your friends happy. By tradition, you welcome the New Year in this rooftop, playing music and games just like the other days but this time, with more food and... well, New Year stuff — fireworks, things to make noise with. The addition of people is not bad. If you're observant enough, it can even be entertaining.

As an example, if you look close enough, you'll see that Renjun and Jisung have been just friends for too long. That, in the sense of Renjun watching Jisung playfully ride the beat, a smile that tips over the line of finding his carelessness unbearable in a growing-more-in-love kind of way.

He looks lost, maybe even intoxicated in the other's laughter, admiring the way Jeno can make his best friend easily drop his shyness. Renjun looks like he wants to know how. If you look close enough, you'll see the regretful heart behind his faux scowl.

Renjun looks at Jeno and Jisung with longing, the kind you're familiar with. He turns to you, and you avert your gaze a little too late because he's giggling as he walks over to your direction.

"So, you saw me, huh?" He asks, handing you a glass of whatever drink he first laid his hands on, no 'happy new year' or any appropriate first greeting. He leans against the railings and sighs wistfully, "Look, do you ever just fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend?"

"Out of random?"

"You don't fall for people at random." Bewilderment crosses his face, and he turns to you the same time you look at him. You shrug, and he arches a brow, "You let that build up and wait for it to destroy you."

You let that build up — the words echo inside your head as you break eye contact. Right across, Donghyuck pulls away from hugging Jaemin with a bright smile, handing him a gift. Jaemin sets it down, and probably feels your gaze on him because he looks up and beams at you. Red flushes your cheeks. — and wait for it to destroy you.

"Toast to that, I guess," you smile, watching him pretend to judge you and fail. Chenle calls out his name for a picture before they set up the fireworks, and before Renjun detaches himself from you, he bumps the rim of his glass to yours. You sigh.

"To the love we wished deserved and didn't."

Shock engulfs his features, then he laughs and he repeats the words before he leaves. The sudden lack of company feels a little cold.

You look at the candle one of them randomly lit, looking at it in stupor before picking it up. The wax trickles and scorches your skin, but you don't wince like you probably would any other feeling day. You hold onto it firmly until its golden glow is close enough to your hands, warm enough that you could pretend it's about to set you on fire.

All so suddenly Jaemin is beside you, blowing off the flame. You watch at him in question until he smiles.

"That'll burn."

"That's alright," you fake a laugh. "I want for a lot of things to burn."

###

It all starts on a Wednesday, a fine afternoon spent sitting at a cafe, waiting for Donghyuck. Your notebook remains open at your side, empty and waiting to be filled with unabashed emotions. The past eight months were spent uninspired, and you decided to look around the place in search of something — maybe the vintage items, the ivory wallpapers, the beautiful chairs — anything.

Something comes in the form of nervous eyes and flushed cheeks, a boy sitting at the far right of the place. He sits alone, fingers tapping on the table, sunlight grazing his skin. You almost hated how cliche everything had been — a boy, an uninspired poet, hands that so desperately itch to write about faded pink hair and a lost angel.

Your gazes meet, and everything unfolds way too softly for it to not be love at first sight.

At that moment, you knew nothing that good should be real. At that moment, you knew nothing that good could be yours.

You were right.

Donghyuck comes in, and he waves at you excitedly before furrowing his brows. Your best friend had always been adorably one of a kind, but none of his weirdness could have prepared you for when he walks straight to the boy's table, and you were almost certain he caught you two staring at each other and is waiting to set you two up, until he's walking back to your table with the brightest grin, the boy beside him.

Their hands entwined.

"He's my boyfriend!" He squeals, "Oh hell, should've said his name first. He's Jaemin, and he's my boyfriend."

"Oh..." you nodded, hands subtly moving to close your notebook. "Uh. Hi."

They both stand in silence before they start cracking up, inevitably making you smile. You excuse your awkwardness, and Donghyuck introduces you two again, and you shake hands this time. You pretend you don't feel shivers run down your spine.

The day passed in blurs of sugar smiles, a love story, a dull throb in your heart. The poetry being written in your head never got finished.

###

The first time you realize it, the world seems to forget you were even born, Donghyuck's across the world with his parents, and solitude is eating you alive. You find yourself stumbling back to the same rooftop, plucking rose petals with a sad face.

It's probably petty — honestly, it is, but it's not just that. It's not that you wanted gifts, or you wanted attention; you wanted to just feel special, to know that someone is glad that once upon a time on this very day, you were born. To belong. To feel wanted. To be told "Happy Birthday" because you are important and should be celebrated.

And maybe it's also because you grew used to it, waking up to several different ways of saying 'Happy Birthday'. Maybe you were used to midnight greetings, to people forcing you out of bed at 6 am, to eating breakfast and lunch and dinner together. Your home had been so empty and to have your friends fill that gap even just for a day is something you look forward to every year — the mournful feeling is there again.

8 pm glares at you on your lock screen, and it reminds you that you can't do any of that now. You tip your head back and let your back hit the floor. Maybe if you look hard enough, you'll see a shooting star and it'll give you a little something.

"What're you doing?"

You look up, surprised but not alarmed. Jaemin's soft smile greets your sight.

"I'm laying down and waiting for a comet to strike me."

The sound of his camera constantly breaks the static, and you realize that he'd been taking pictures of the nightlife. He makes a noise that tells you he isn't convinced with your answer, but you don't entertain him anymore. You just watch him take as many polaroids as he can, and you laugh because suddenly, the only thoughts in your mind becomes 'pretty, pretty, pretty'.

You force a laugh, "It's my birthday."

"Is today your birthday!? Nobody told me!"

"It's not important. I mean, who celebrates birthdays these days, righ— Hey!" The familiar snap sounds again and you stand up from where you're laying down, ready to hit him, but then he gives you the film. You look at his hands and back up, "What's this?"

"My gift." He shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. You take the picture from his hands, hesitant but relieved that it seemed to look nice, anyway. Jaemin smiles, "It's the image of an angel."

The world stops.

It's ridiculous and cheesy, even he knew that; the two of you laugh uncontrollably. It wasn't the kind of laughter that fades after a minute, but rather the kind that stops for a while only to start up again. The sound grows louder with each passing moment, and your eyes meet, but you don't stop until you both become embarrassed enough to blush; neither of you look away.

Maybe you are in love.

Maybe you are in love, and maybe he is too — except this time, it's not with Donghyuck, who it should be.

###

"It's you I meet again," Jaemin chimes. "What's up, buttercup? What are you doing here, a coffee shop, at 3 am?"

You look around the cafe, the tables empty. You briefly wonder about when Jaemin started working here before you realize you're unnecessarily curious. You press your lips into a thin line, looking for someone.

"I'd like to assume you already know." Your forehead creased when you noticed the unusual absence, "Where's my favorite boy?"

"Am I not your favorite boy?"

Jaemin pouts, and heaven, how it made your heart skip. You blink, spending the moment in silence, waiting for him to give up. "You are, indeed, not my favorite boy," You smile sweetly. "Where's Renjun?"

"I'm here because he's not. Do I seem like I work here? I was drinking coffee before he passed me an apron and left."

You roll your eyes, a poor attempt at keeping in the words of agreement — you kind of do, you look pretty, I could write so much about you — and you pretend to want nothing but get your drink. It takes an eternity before he lets you go, but once he does, you get comfortable on a table and whip out your notebook.

You look down on the first page, tracing the neatly written words — a confession if anybody who knows you gets to read it. A confession more than a dedication.

To the boy I shouldn't have loved.

The very same shooting star who gifted me a lifetime of heartbreak.

You heave a heavy sigh. You take a pen, resting your cheeks on your palms as you lazily think of words to write — now and then, you lock gazes with Jaemin and you pretend that the red in your cheeks is just of the cold. From that moment, every word you write is either about lights so bright you don't forget how beautiful he was under them, or something so strong it erases every trace of him from your system.

Jaemin leaves the counter and takes the chair across you. You look at him in confusion.

"I don't think you can do that?"

"I just did so I suppose, I can definitely do that." He smiles brightly. "So, what're we doing?"

You eye your notebook before quickly closing it, and then your half-finished cup of coffee. It's still dark outside with only some cars and people passing by, none of them interested in coming inside the cozy place. You say something about just being about to leave, and you look at him as if to say whatever's inside your head. Then, you stand up and walk away.

"Stay," he whispers, light enough that you'd think you weren't supposed to hear.

You swallow the lump in your throat when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, cold against warm, and you don't have to look at his face to know of the begging stare he has directed for you at the moment. You try to look away but you feel weak, so weak that you could only manage a thin, shivering voice.

"Let me go."

"I can't."

Then don't, the voice in your head whispers, the selfish one; the greedy one, the desperate one. In reality, you close your eyes and tug your hands back because what's wrong is wrong, and what's wrong can never be right.

###

The rain clouds come one of the many times Jaemin asks for you to accompany him, and the storm looms darker above you with each genuine 'yes'.

The way this set up started had been pretty simple — hanging out together as friends, getting closer for Donghyuck's comfort; best friend-boyfriend bonding as he called it. For a while, it was everything. It's just your best friend trying to get you to trust his boyfriend, getting to know each other, and that's all — that's the truth.

It was friendship until it wasn't, and that was the truth until it was not anymore.

The night was peaceful so you didn't expect anything to go wrong, but expectations aren't always accurate. The sea looks calm, the moon brighter than all the other days. Jaemin's playing a somber song, something magical that just fits right for him and bittersweet love. His eyelashes flutter in a way gentle enough to drive you crazy, his perfume mingling with the cold night sea breeze, and it's too much that it drives you insane.

"What's wrong?" He asks as if he already knows the answer. "You're not telling me something."

It's been three months and a year since you and Jaemin started hanging out alone, and the swirling guilt in your gut is unnecessary because you're not even doing anything wrong.

It's the fleeting moments, you think, those lingering touches whenever you try to take from him the keys — "I'll drive," you'd whisper when you see yet again that look. Jaemin would smile, "What, scared I'll crash? I'm not stupid." — and when he doesn't give them, you sigh heavily with a hopeful look in your eyes. "Where to?" You'd ask even if you didn't care, and he would let himself forget the world as he opens the door for you, whispering words only a dreamer would say: "Stars."

And maybe it's where everything goes wrong. He shouldn't dream much for hopeless cases.

"Hey, shooting star," you call. He arches a brow at the nickname, but you ignore him. "Do you love me?"

"Would you hate me if I do?"

"You're dating my best friend, so of course, fuck you." You chuckle, shaking your head. "I hate myself more, so don't take it personally."

You meet his gaze, and the world shifts yet again just like at that moment in the coffee shop — angel boy, uninspired poet. He looked at you the same way he did weeks ago at the New Year's Party, that in the way his eyes are saying so many words for him to not be in love with you. Except now, he's much closer. Except now, in the confinements of his car, nobody to witness but the sea and the stars, he's leaning in and his breath is tickling your skin.

Except now, he's about to kiss you and you're not stopping him.

I can't, the rational part of you whispered. You say that you can't, but you're almost always on the edge of something and you're brave enough to consider through the guilt; you hate to admit it but that's the truth. You say that you can't, but at the same time, you don't draw yourself away from him — why?

Because in each and every one of this I can't's is the nasty truth that reads I want to.

You look at the water, and you chase your thoughts out with a dive. Jaemin's lips are still hovering above yours, and maybe if you weren't so numb you'd feel his heartbeat. You want to tear away, you want to run home and make a call and cry a litany of apologies. You want so much. You want so much, but what you want the most at the moment is for him to do what you can't and just kiss you already — you'd rather break yourself than not have this.

You close your eyes and decide that whatever will come tomorrow is something you deserve. You'll break your heart and ruin your world just for a kiss, and he'll leave — but you'll know that for a while he loved you and everything else is forgotten. You choose him and you forget all the consequences.

Just for once, just tonight. Just right now you'll let yourself indulge. Just this time he can have everything.

Right before your lips crash, you catch yourself and swim.

"Would you give me what I want, because you love me?"

Your words come out raspy, your eyes glistening with tears. Jaemin smiles in a manner just as heartbreaking, "What do you want?"

Not him — dear moon, I want him so bad, but I can't — definitely not him.

"I want fire so hot it burns away all the bad thoughts in my head." You suppress a sob as you move away, leaning back on the seat, clutching the fabric of your clothes as if to search for any semblance of sanity. "I want light so bright I forget you."

"What… what?"

You look at him with pure misery, "I think we should stop seeing each other."

Jaemin doesn't reply, but he starts up the car and makes a turn. You close your eyes hoping that everything could just be washed away by the rain, and you don't look at him for the rest of the drive.

###

Never in your life did you even think of living life without your best friend. That just can't happen, and so, why give it a thought, right? You're with him all the time, and he's been there since you can remember, and it wouldn't make sense if one day you wake up and he's all too suddenly not there anymore. You're certain that he's not going anywhere, and even if you're unsure of what the future holds, you aren't so worried.

If you knew, maybe you should have been.

"Hyuck?"

"Are you gonna remind me of the time I almost drowned and you told me you'll kill me if I die?"

"I'm leaving."

The traces of his previous chuckles disappear, and it seems like a movie scene with the way yours bloom tragically as you watch colored lights reflect on his skin. Then, as if sunrise, a slow smile etches on his face. A brief moment of regret and pain crosses his eyes before love overtakes it.

"You don't have to." He murmurs, sight still cast at the sea. Both his hands are tucked in his pockets in such a leisure way, and then he casually peers at you, "You don't have to leave because I'm not mad."

The sea makes the wind blowing even colder, and suddenly, the docks that used to warm you with sunlight feels cold as snow.

He knows... of course, he knows. Donghyuck saw your iridescence from every side and he knew how everything looked by heart; of course, he knew, he's your best friend, after all. Oh, how evil you are. How evil you are for loving the boy who belongs with him. How evil you are that even after that, Donghyuck reaches for your hands and you let him hold you; you let him smile at you sweetly, you let him calm you still.

"How can I even get mad at you? I love you more than anything in this world," he chuckles, and it breaks your heart. "You're my best friend and I'll give Jaemin up if I have to, if that will make you happy."

If that will make you happy... if it will make me happy... why did I do that to you, love? How did I manage to... oh, sweet heavens.

"You're all I need forever," you answer weakly, breathless and breathing all the same in his hug. It's your way of saying no, absolutely no, your sadness would never make me happy. You thank the high heavens that he couldn't see your face and the pain in it when you whisper, "But at the moment, this is what I need. Distance."

The first tear falls from Donghyuck's eyes, and the sudden drizzle of rain washes it off him. You look up to him and see longing, wondering just why it had to be this way, almost begging you you stay. He looked like he's about to send the world away if it meant that you won't have to leave, but the truth burns down to your determination, that he always admired: you have made your mind and there's no stopping you. You know what is best for yourself, and Donghyuck trusts you.

Set yourself free, Donghyuck whispers before he walks home. After that, please come back to me.

###

When you meet Jaemin ten hours before you leave, he's standing at the very same place Donghyuck was the day before. He's wearing a similar jacket, standing in a similar manner, looking just as beautiful against the water. The only thoughts running inside your head is how perfect they are.

"Jaemin."

Not even 'shooting star' anymore.

He turns at the call of his name, and you're still standing on both of your feet, but it feels like diving deep. His skin reflects the very same lights Donghyuck's did, but it looked kind of different �� be it red or yellow, white or the shadows; everything looked midnight blue. It feels like standing on a cliff and almost tipping over, eternally almost tipping over and falling into blue nothingness.

Jaemin smiles, not happy but breaking. It makes you hold your breath.

He laughs, "Don't break my heart."

"In the next life." Because it's all that you could have. You return his smile, "I hope I deserve you in the next life."

His laughter rings in your ear, but it doesn't make you laugh at all; instead, it makes you want to sob or scream or just hurt, yet again, to savor the pain because he doesn't want you to but it's all he could give. It feels claustrophobic to align in a way that's everything meeting with your soulmate should be, with someone who's not your soulmate. Or you are indeed soulmates, but not the ones destined to be together like that. Just two wholes that compliment each other but are meant to be torn apart.

"I just said don't break my heart, what did you do?" He tries to crack a joke, walking the last step to be closer to you. He tilts his head in that charming way, "Why did I fall in love with you?"

"Hey, Jaem... you're not. Forget that. Love him." You shake your head, fixing the collar of his shirt, an excuse for one last guiltless touch. Your voice breaks, "He's my best friend. I love him more than the world."

And just as he is to me, I would rather let you go and make him happy, you smiled at yourself. I'd rather you make each other happy.

"I know." he croaks out, a fragile smile on his face. "In the next life?"

You try to imagine a life where Jaemin isn't haunting your thoughts; you can't. For a moment, you fear meeting someone else and not being able to love them because they're not him. You fear that they'd be kinder, softer, gentler than Jaemin and you won't be able to love them back because oh, Jaemin was just right; he was too much but in a way where it's just enough — Jaemin who looks at you like you hold galaxies, Jaemin who would risk the world, Jaemin who is with your best friend. The doomed play goes on and you think again of a life where he isn't what you desperately love, and realize that indeed, hopefully, in the next life.

In the next life, because this love feels right but it's not. In the next life, because it's painful but you'll love him still again and again and again until your stars finally agree.

"In the next life." You nod, fingers clenching on the straps of your bag. You look at the ocean ahead of you, and the lights it reflects, and then you close your eyes as you feel the wind.

"Until then, shooting star."

—

yellow tags 💛

coffee shop

untitled1

#nct dream one shot #jaemin oneshot #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #jaemin fanfic #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #also nahyuck #haechan x jaemin #platonic haechan x reader

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fridayfirefly · 3 years

Text

Bruises

Read Bruises on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 30 - Goodbye

Bruce picked up his phone on the second ring. It wasn't unusual for him to get phone calls at eleven o'clock at night - he was a busy man, after all. What was unusual was the fact that the call was from an unknown number. Bruce very rarely gave out his personal number. "Hello?"

"Bruce?" a tiny voice questioned through the phone.

"Emilie?" Bruce recognized her voice, even though it had been ten years since the last time he spoke to Emilie Graham de Vanily (now Emilie Agreste). He never knew what had happened to her, just that one day she stopped answering his emails and her phone number was disconnected. Bruce wanted to reconnect with her, but at the time it seemed like Emilie chose not to speak to him on purpose.

"I'm sorry for calling so late at night. I know we haven't spoken in a long time, but I'm in Gotham and I need your help."

Bruce didn't hesitate for even a moment. "What do you need?"

Twenty minutes later, Bruce pulled up in front of Gotham International Airport. He didn't recognize Emilie at first, not until he got out of the car and she called his name.

"Bruce!" Emilie had changed. What surprised Bruce was that the first thing he noticed was not the black eye that marred her face, but the little blonde boy who stood at her side.

"Hello, Emilie," said Bruce, pointedly ignoring the fact that she hadn't told him about her son.

"Hello, Bruce. This is Adrien," she introduced.

"Hello." Adrien greeted Bruce quietly, his eyes trained at the ground. The white cast on his arm was decorated with little doodles. Bruce assumed that Emilie had drawn them with the pen she tucked behind her ear.

They all got into Bruce's car with little fanfare. Emilie sat in the passenger seat. Adrien sat in the back and was asleep before they left the parking lot.

"Did your husband give you that black eye?"

Emilie didn't waste words explaining the situation. "Yes."

"What about Adrien's arm?"

"I told Gabriel a long time ago that if he ever touched Adrien, I would leave him. Either he forgot or didn't believe me. I'm keeping true to my word. In the morning I'm going to a lawyer to file for divorce papers and a restraining order, and to press charges for Adrien's arm."

Bruce nodded, "I have a whole team of lawyers that you can use." He kept his eyes fixed on the road even though all he wanted to do was stare at her. It had been ten long years since he had seen her face to face.

Bruce first met Emilie during his junior year at Gotham University. He'd been a mess before that. He could barely stay sober long enough to go to class, and his grades were a testament to that fact. Emilie Graham de Vanily came to Gotham University as part of her study abroad program, in which she would spend two semesters at an American university, then return to Paris to finish her degree. She was Bruce's exact opposite: no-nonsense and dedicated to her studies.

The first time Bruce met Emilie, she slapped him in the face. It was the first day of the semester, and he was incredibly hungover. He only showed up to get the syllabus so he knew what the best days to skip were. Bruce sat down next to Emilie Agreste and started flirting with her, an action he had gotten very good at over his years at Gotham University. Emilie told him three times to knock it off, getting increasingly less polite until she eventually slapped him across the face and stormed out of the classroom.

Emilie must have slapped some sense back into Bruce because decided to apologize. She didn't forgive him immediately, but after a few weeks of sitting together in class, they decided to study together. By the end of the semester, they were meeting up every weekend to hang out. Bruce stopped drinking so much, started going back to Wayne Manor on the weekends, started talking to Alfred again.

Bruce asked Emilie out at the beginning of her second semester. To Bruce's disappointment, Emilie declined, but with a gleam in her eye that let Bruce know that there was a chance that their relationship could become more than platonic. They spent the semester together, sharing meals and inside jokes, study rooms and secrets. Bruce was certain that when he asked her out a second time, as they both stood in the airport, waiting for Emilie's flight to Paris to board, she would say yes. Instead, Emilie pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him, "Third time's the charm, Bruce." Then she got on her flight and they never spoke again.

Bruce found out three months later that she was recently engaged. He was never sent a wedding invitation. He tried his best to forget her entirely, after that.

"We're here," Bruce broke the silence as he parked the car in front of Wayne Manor.

From the backseat, Adrien rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Maman?" he mumbled.

Emilie got out of the car and opened up the backseat, helping Adrien to his feet. "Tu es en sécurité, mon fils," she whispered to him, assuring her that he was safe here.

Alfred opened up the front door and welcomed Emilie and Adrien into the house, offering to escort them to their rooms. Bruce was suddenly reminded of the time difference between Paris and Gotham. 1 AM in Gotham was 7 AM in Paris - early morning. It had been at least 24 hours since Emilie and Adrien last slept.

"Are you sure we should go?" asked Emilie, yawning through her sentence.

"Of course. I'll get everything for the lawyers taken care of by morning."

Emilie nodded. "Thank you, Bruce."

Emilie and Adrien left the foyer, following Alfred. Bruce made his way to his office and got to work.

Some time later, Alfred entered the room. “Miss Graham de Vanily and her son have just gone to bed.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“You should go too."

Bruce shook his head. "I have too much work to do. I need this paperwork ready for my lawyers in the morning." At the top of his desk were divorce papers for Emilie, papers for the termination of parental rights, and two restraining orders, one for Adrien and one for Emilie, both against Gabriel Agreste.

"What you need, is some sleep. You'll be no use to Emilie and Adrien if you're dead on your feet tomorrow morning."

Bruce sighed, casting one last glance at the half-filled forms. "Alright."

----------

At the breakfast table the next morning, Adrien and Dick had become fast friends.

“If you were a superhero, what would your name be?” Dick quizzed the younger boy.

“That depends on what my powers are.”

Dick wrinkled his nose in objection. “You don’t need powers to be a superhero, you just need training.”

Bruce was certain that he had said the same thing to Dick at one point. Dick heeded the words like gospel - now he spent most of his free time training to be Batman's partner. Though Bruce had already told Dick that he wasn't allowed to fight crime until he was thirteen, Dick seemed to think that enough skill might make up for the two-year difference.

"Okay. What would your superhero name be?" asked Adrien

“I would be called Robin, after Robin Hood.”

“I’ll be called Peregrine. Did you know that the peregrine falcon is the fastest type of bird? They can reach speeds of up to 240 miles per hour. I learned that from one of Mom's movies."

Bruce could recall that Emilie narrated a few nature documentaries in her rather brief film career.

Emilie walked into the kitchen, her black eye hidden by a thick layer of concealer. "Good morning, boys." She looked a bit startled, and Bruce realized that he hadn't told her about Dick.

"Emilie, could I talk to you in my office?"

"Sure."

As they made their way down the hall, Emilie remarked to Bruce, "You didn't tell me you had a son."

"I was.... distracted, last night. I adopted Richard a few months back. I was there when his parents died and he reminded me of myself when I was his age."

Emilie nodded. "I'm glad Adrien has someone to talk to here."

They continued down the hall, stopping at the door to Bruce's office.

"So what is it that you wanted to talk about?" asked Emilie as she entered his office.

Bruce held up the forms on his desk. "Divorce papers, restraining orders, termination of parental rights, and a police report for the injuries he caused. I wanted to know which papers you wanted to be filed and when. "

"I want them all filed, as soon as possible." Emilie's voice was hard.

"Are you sure?" Bruce didn't want to ask, but he felt the need to double-check.

"Bruce, I spent ten years of my life with Gabriel. I let him manipulate me into thinking that he was a good man. And he had his good days. There were days when I remembered why I fell in love with him in the first place. He was so passionate..." Emilie's wistful voice turned cold. "But passion turned to obsession, love turned to hate, and he couldn't stand me but he couldn't let me go either. I was willing to give him second chances when I was his only victim, but I can't let him get away with hurting Adrien. If I don't leave now, if I let him get away with even one of the bruises he's given me, then Adrien and I will never be free of him."

Bruce nodded. "We can get to work on these after breakfast."

"Wait." Emilie gently grabbed his elbow. Bruce turned to face her. "Once the divorce is finalized..." Emilie paused and took a deep breath. "Remember what I said at the airport, when we were both young?"

Bruce nodded and quoted her, "You told me: 'Third time's the charm, Bruce.'"

Emilie gave him a small smile. "Third time's the charm. If you still want me, ask me again."

Bruce knew that Emilie had been through a lot these past few days. He didn't want her to make a decision she would later regret. "Are you sure?"

"I've said goodbye to you one too many times, Bruce. I never want to say goodbye to you again."

There was a deep, earnest honesty in her eyes. Bruce knew that there was no longer anything holding her back. There wasn't anything holding him back, either. "Whatever you need, Emilie, I'll give it to you."

Emilie smiled, a hopeful look on her face. "Tell me I can stay."

"Forever."

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #bruce x emilie #bruce wayne #emilie agreste #MaribatMarch2021 #my work #miraculous ladybug fic

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everandevermcre · 2 years

Text

⌠ kristine froseth. 23, bisexual, nonbinary, they/she ⌡ wait a minute, is gemma cameron still in town? i thought i saw a flash of (unmatched style, freckled constellations, and running before the sun’s up)! last i heard they were working as a(n) radio host nearby. when it’s the (taurus)’s birthday on 04/20 i forget that they’re stubborn and celebrate that they’re dedicated. i hear long story short by taylor swift every time i think of them. ⌿ @liminalintro

» gemma cameron «

» the golden child «

for most of her life, gemma cameron was the town’s sweetheart, her family a pinnacle example of what a happy, successful centralia family could be! give me a break.

they run in the mornings, their favorite meal is breakfast, fuzzy socks are a part of their identity, they prefer deep questions to small talk, and their aesthetic changes with her mood.

they are organized without trying, good at team work, and they try not to judge people ( though they can’t always help it ).

gemma’s apartment is covered in house plants and vanilla scented candles. they like soft skin, the color yellow, and high waisted everything. their memory is tinted with gold. they love road trips with best friends and cherry cola in the dappled shade.

if you’re close enough, they probably kept the shell you gave them after finding it on the beach five summer’s ago.

» backstory «

growing up with everything never made gemma feel like anyone else deserved nothing. sharing was caring and lifting others up was their love language, never allowing anyone around them to feel left out.

they were lucky in the sense that they had two parents, still together, that loved them, but they still had to watch them not love each other. they would stay up listening to them fight, getting involved because their passionate, and eventually feel the neglect that came along with getting involved in what should not have included them.

in high school gemma started to close off, pretending to be listening and no longer participating in their friend group. the same friend group would ignore the change in gemma’s sunshine, hyping up the importance of shallow routines like prom, where they would inevitably wear a crown that they had been rallying for since day one of their freshman year. gemma began falling into the background of their life, which meant that other people fell into the background of their life too. the people gemma didn’t have the energy to lift up and take with them on their path to high school victory, aka popularity, would ultimately get left behind.

eventually gemma would be out on their own, romanticizing a ‘ quaint ’ apartment that could only be considered ‘ staying humble ’ if your parents have money. the same way working in radio can only be considered ‘ staying humble ’ when you have gemma cameron’s face.

there has always been a certain intimacy that gemma was able to keep within their relationships with women that felt more vulnerable than any of their experiences with men, though they have never admitted it out loud. they puts the b in lgbtqia+ but their own parents’ christian values make them wonder, can centralia accept gemma as bisexual AND centralia’s golden girl ( golden them? ), or will they have to choose between being themselves and who others expect them to be?

» connections «

a best friend ofc. ride or die

a long time friend. been friends since they were young, more convenient to just stay friends at this point then not

friends that got left behind as they grew to popularity in high school

the ex high school boyfriend / sweetheart

~*~gal pals*~* gemma was intimate with either emotionally or physically over the years a) they led you on, maybe you wanted more and gemma wasn’t ready to commit b) led gemma on, her first experience of rejection

ppl who are bitter bc their or their families small business was affected by the creation of the mall

someone who calls the radio station and has a banter with her but they’ve never met or chatted in real life

someone that has a crush on her radio personality but doesn’t know gemma personally

someone who applied for the same radio time slot as her and got rejected, maybe are bitter toward her

a best friend that pranks the radio when they’re working

an enemy that calls the radio show and says things like they should be cancelled just like the rest of her family

people they’re a regular of like at a coffee shop or diner and they have a regular banter going

people who can/will help her explore her identity

someone they’re attracted to but shouldn’t be / someone who’s attracted to her but shouldn’t be - due to age, families, work, other people, anything...

#liminal:intro

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falsegoodnight · 4 years

Text

✰ say a little prayer: an outtake ✰

*a harry-centric drabble from sleeping on our problems taking place the five days after louis told harry about the baby.

(obviously: major spoilers from the fic!

a birthday present for @louislyrics <3 thank you for asking the question that sparked this!

The door shuts behind Louis with a dull thud, silence echoing as Harry stares at the wood, mouth still dropped open with his protest lingering on his lips.

A wave of nausea rises in him, strengthened only by his disbelief, confusion, and slowly festering panic.

Pregnant. Louis is pregnant.

With his baby.

The panic grows, tightening in his chest and filling his lungs. He exhales jaggedly, hands shaking as he sits down on his bed stiffly and places them on his knees, bracing himself.

He’s twenty. He’s twenty years old and he’s gone and knocked up an omega. He’s just recently been picked as captain. The season is picking up soon and he’s got classes and responsibilities and he’s knocked up an omega.

A product of him and Louis has been planted in Louis’ stomach and will grow into a living breathing human after just nine and a half months. The white gap on his wall between his window and a poster sears into his burning eyes as he stares blankly.

He doesn’t realize someone has entered his room until a hand lands on his shoulder, jerking him out of his tense actions. Liam’s face slowly comes into view when he glances down, a worried furrow between his brow.

His mouth is open too, closing and widening as if pronouncing syllables and words, trying to communicate - except Harry can hardly hear a word through the thundering of his heart, deafening in his ears and making his vision go blurry.

“Harry,” Liam says, maybe for the fifth or dozenth time, “Harry, are you okay?”

Opening his mouth, he is unable to respond. Is he okay? Is he okay after finding out he’s going to be a father when he’s only twenty years old?

And it’s like - Harry has always known he wants children, wants to find a nice omega and settle down and put a baby or a bunch of babies in them. He wants to have a family. He gets off on the idea, for fuck’s sake. But it’s different having it sprung on him so suddenly. It’s different because he’s not ready. Not even close.

He’s Captain for fuck’s sake. He’s got a year to play well and play hard to up his chances of being drafted to a good team in the summer. Not to mention, an entire team not to let down. Hockey is his life - it’s been his life since he first got onto the ice at eight years old and fuck, he wants it to continue being his life for a long time.

“H, you’re worrying me, what’s wrong?” Liam continues, sounding completely bewildered. Harry can’t blame him. He’s Harry - always cool headed, calm, and driven. Not much rattles him, though it’s safe to say this definitely has.

“Liam,” he says slowly, voice hoarse. He forces himself to make eye contact with the fellow alpha, taking a deep shuddery breath. “Liam, I’m going to be a dad.”

He watches as the words process and Liam’s face morphs into one of disbelief. He watches as Liam looks at him, face pale once he sees the tears in Harry’s eyes and the raw honesty on his face. He watches as he realizes it’s the truth.

Fumbling for words, Liam sits down on the bed beside him. “Um,” he starts, giving Harry an anxious look.

Shaking his head, Harry explains properly. He reminds Liam about Louis, the omega he hooked up with at their end-of-summer party and who helped him with his rut. He tells him that Louis wants to keep the baby. “I mean, s’his body, his choice, of course,” he says panickedly. “But he also wants to know if I want to be involved and-” He cuts off, unable to continue.

Liam is silent for a bit. “What’re you going to do?” he asks eventually, voice soft and gentle.

It’s still enough for Harry to break. Suddenly he’s crying into his hands, shaking because he has no fucking idea what he’s going to do. He’s twenty - he’s twenty years old and he has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

He thinks of Louis. Sweet and beautiful Louis who’s caught his eye more than any omega he’s ever met, who his inner alpha feels an inexplicable pull towards, against his mind’s wishes. If he hadn’t been so dedicated to hockey, he wonders how things might have been between them. If this would be playing out a little differently.

Most of all he wonders how Louis isn’t in pieces like him. He’s the same age as Harry and yet he was so sure - so certain of this new permanent fixture in his life.

Even when he left, face crumpled and close to tears much to the torment of his inner alpha, there was no trace of regret or doubt in his face. He wants to keep the baby. He’s okay with being a mother and raising a child.

Meanwhile Harry feels like he’s going to puke. He keeps crying, letting Liam awkwardly pat his back and murmur semi-encouraging words, struggling to handle an emotionally distressed Harry when he’s never even seen him cry before today. But Harry soaks up the little bit of comfort Liam offers, closing his eyes shut and wanting to scream because the ultrasound picture he left on his desk is still branded across his eyelids.

One thing’s for sure, he needs to make a decision here. But first he has to come to terms with it.

Harry wakes up on Sunday morning and almost forgets the revelation of the evening before.

He told Liam to tell their frat brothers he was feeling ill and would be eating in his room. Then he proceeded to have his dinner, which was tasteless and overall unappealing to him, while staring aimlessly at his laptop screen where Criminal Minds was playing. He remembers nothing of the two episodes he watched, putting his laptop on the nightstand and yanking his clothes off so he can sleep about three hours earlier than usual.

Though he forgets, it comes back to him like a knife to the chest when he glances at his desk where the ultrasound is sitting, black and white little blob and all. He sucks in a breath and then exhales through his nose, heading to the door and slamming the door shut behind him.

Liam must have told the others to leave him alone because no one comes up to tell him good morning or complain about current chore assignments. He’s sure he’s radiating frustrated pheromones as he grabs some cereal and an energy drink.

There’s a morning practice in half an hour so Harry brings his breakfast upstairs with him, eating as he gets dressed and grabs his stuff.

He stares at the ultrasound as he gathers his gear, eyes latched onto it even when he’s stuffing everything in his duffel along with his water bottle, before turning his head and looking away. He pushes it all down.

Striving to the door, he hesitates, glancing back at the desk. With an exhausted sigh, he walks back to the desk.

After spending the entire morning avoiding the elephant in the room, it all comes rushing back to him, a heavy weight in his lungs making it hard for him to breathe. But he makes himself look at the paper, lets himself study the small blob in the middle that will be his and Louis’ pup.

His pup. His child.

He wonders what they’d look like. Would they look more like him or Louis? He imagines a baby in his head but its face flashes between Louis’ delicate features and his sharper ones, Louis’ big blue eyes and his green ones, Louis’ soft smile and his own.

“Harry,” Liam says, knocking gently on the door. He’s cautious as he reminds Harry that they have to get to practice.

Harry nods, gnawing on his lip. “I’ll meet you down there,” he murmurs, not moving his eyes from the ultrasound picture. There’s traces of Louis’ scent on it, sweet ripe strawberries. So lovely and intoxicating and so much deeper now. Deeper because of the baby. He glances at Liam who hasn’t left, a concerned frown on his face. “I’m fine,” he swears, voice lowering to a whisper.

Liam dips his head to his chest in acknowledgment and backs out of the room.

Heart fluttering painfully, Harry realizes that he just spent five minutes thinking about his child and not panicking.

Examining the black and white sheet carefully, he folds it gently and tucks it into his jacket pocket. It sits there like a promise through the entire day.

Harry spends the next couple of days going through his normal routines and attending classes and practice completely dazed. He zones out during lectures, mind wandering to heartbeats and tiny limbs. He’s distant with his frat brothers and absent from his friends; ignoring text messages and Snapchats and cutting all interactions with everyone, except Liam, short. His mind is constantly spinning with thoughts of ultrasounds, parenting, and panic.

How is he expected to talk to people normally when a lump the size of a boulder is clawing up his throat and fighting to spill out, his thoughts utterly consumed by something the size of a cherry.

(A size of a cherry. That’s what the internet said when he googled information on babies at 9 weeks in the middle of Music Theory. Itty bitty. Just bigger than the pad of his thumb.)

He’s distracted in practice and everyone notices, including Coach, who pulls him aside during a practice game to tell him off for being sloppy. He’s captain for fuck’s sake and the season is just kicking off. He can’t afford to be so spaced out - he’s lectured on this point over and over, head ducked and shame curling in his stomach.

And yet, he can’t stop himself from pulling the picture out of his pocket during class or practice or in the middle of the night when he wakes up staring at the ceiling, while his insecurities and nerves whirl around him like a never ending nightmare.

The folds grow cracked and worn with the amount of times he opens and refolds the paper; looking, staring, and memorizing the lines of his future pup as his heart beats painfully.

On Wednesday, three days after he found out, he calls his mom.

She answers with a, “Hey, lovey,” like she always does, chipper and happy.

Harry swallows, closing his eyes. When he speaks, his voice shakes. “Mom, I have something to tell you.”

As if sensing the panic in his voice, her response is soft and encouraging. “You can tell me anything, darling.”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he whispers.

“You’ve never disappointed me and you never will,” she says easily, sounding confused and curious.

It doesn’t make him feel any better. His stomach is twisting painfully when he finally works up the courage to blurt it out. “I got someone pregnant.”

His mother’s shock is palpable, bleeding through the phone and seeping into his skin until he’s flinching, the hitch in her breathing almost deafening to his ringing ears.

Before he knows it, his tears are brimming again.

“Mom,” he says desperately. “Say something.”

“Harry,” she says. “Oh my god.”

Needless to say, he starts crying again. The whole story comes tumbling out and his mother is achingly indecipherable, asking him questions about if they used protection (no, but Louis had been on birth control) and how far along Louis is (9 weeks and 4 days as far as Harry knows) and how well they know each other (“Not well at all,” he had been forced to admit).

“Honey,” she starts, voice gentle but firm. “I’m your mother and you know I always want the best for you. But you also know I’ll never bullshit you, which is why I feel comfortable telling you that there’s a right and wrong decision to make here and I swear to God, Harry Edward Styles, that if you choose the wrong path - the coward’s path, I will come up there and -”

“Mom, I’m not abandoning him,” he interrupts, gaping. “What the fuck?”

“I know you’re not,” she scoffs. “I meant if you choose not to have a joint-custody. I know you, darling, and I know how much you’d regret it if you let one of your own flesh and blood slip through your fingers even when you’re as young as you are.”

“I…” He trails off, swallowing. “How am I supposed to raise a child when I want to be in the NHL?”

“How is this omega supposed to carry a child while attending classes and living his own life?” she counters. “I’ll tell you how. You figure it out. You work your ass off and you come up with solutions and you never give up. When it comes to family, you can move mountains if need be.”

Harry exhales, words embedding themselves into his skin and sticking there. He nods even though she can’t see him. She’s right. She’s completely right. It’s been four days and his pup is still just an embryo but he’s already attached. He’s in too deep and there’s no way he can settle for anything less than as much as he can get. “What about weekends?” he suggests.

“Weekends,” Anne repeats. “Is that what you want?”

He takes his time to respond, mulling it over and considering every option. Is it possible for me to do this? he thinks. Is it possible that he can live and breathe hockey and other obligations while still being a father that his pup deserves?

In the end, it’s an easy question to answer.

“Yes,” he says, no signs of hesitance or doubt in his voice. “It’s what I want.”

“I’m glad to hear that, darling. So glad. But I also need you to understand. Being a parent will change your life forever - it’s the most satisfying and fulfilling and beautiful thing, but it’s hard. Looking after another human being is a full-time commitment and I know you want kids, but it’s different when you’re actually having them.”

“I know,” he says. He’ll need to do research and tag along to appointments and be as involved as he can. He’ll need to find time for his pup - make time for them - both before and after they’re born. “I’ll do my best.”

“And I don’t care if you and this omega are nothing but strangers,” she continues fiercely. “That child is half yours and this omega will be carrying it for the both of you these next nine months. You better be there trying to make it even a little bit easier for him every step of the way.”

He sputters. “Of course,” he says, defensive. “I would hope you’d expect better of me than that.”

“And I’d hope I raised you well enough that you’ll treat this omega as good as if he were your own omega and support him as much as possible,” she says.

“You did, I will,” he argues, brows furrowing. He thinks about Louis and how much discomfort, pain, and struggles he’ll have to endure over his pregnancy and how he knows he’ll handle it brilliantly. Because Louis is smart and determined and he’s going to be a brilliant mother.

He knows it.

“I love you and I’m proud of you,” his mother says after a beat, voice softening. “And I’ll be here for you whenever you need me, honey. Just a few hours away. For you and Louis.”

It’s the first time she’s said his name out loud and Harry’s heart does a funny thing at the sound. “I love you too,” he says belatedly.

“Robin’s going to be home in a few minutes, so stay on,” she says. “I want you to be the one to tell him the news. You have to tell your sister too, but maybe in a little bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you, darling. But how long do you think is the appropriate time to wait before telling the relatives?”

Harry can’t help but smile as she rambles on but it fades as his earlier worries return. She wants to tell the relatives but Harry’s still scrambling to process, to believe.

“Mom,” he says, voice ragged.

“Yes, lovey?” she asks softly, sensing his distress.

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad?” he breathes, wiping a stray tear with the back of his hand. He hears his mother’s shocked inhale before she’s crying too, telling Harry of course, darling, the best dad in the entire world.

And Harry, through his tears and worries and anguish, believes her. He can feel it in his bones, in his mind, in his heart. He will be. For his pup, he’d be anything.

They stay on the phone for hours.

It’s Thursday afternoon, five days after he found out, and Harry’s staring at the creased and wrinkled ultrasound picture - staring at his future - when he pulls out his phone and writes out a text.

Hey Louis...

this is one of quite a few drabbles i have on a list for already-posted fics and the first one i’ve actually finished (whoops) - hopefully i’ll get to the others too!! :) this was really fun for me to write and i hope it was nice to read :)

thank you @soldouthaz and chelsea for looking this over for me! <33

#sleeping on our problems #drabble #my drabbles #sleeping on our problems outtake #happy birthday morgan!#harry-centric #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha harry #omega louis #college au #scheduled

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mydisasteracademia · 3 years

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SFW Alphabet: Izuku Midoriya

Aaaaand here’s everyone’s favorite green bean! Look at my baby, all grown up and ready to destroy people. (wipes away tear)

(Both of y’all are around 16 here. Don’t worry, nothing horrible here! Just two dorks in love.)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s incredibly affectionate to you. He’s definitely more of a verbal affirmation kind of guy (and if you identify as female he’s gonna be horribly flustered if you try to hug him). He always talks to you and encourages you, and his smile is just adorable.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Your friendship likely started when he was on a trip into town and he noticed you needed some help carrying a couple of boxes. The two of you hit it off right away (especially due to the fact that you were wearing an All Might shirt). As your best friend, he’s incredibly chatty and smiley. He loves hanging out with you and just talking about things. When you first showed him your Quirk, he was so starstruck that you both spent an entire lunch just talking about it. He’s so sweet it’s hard not to get along with him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’s so shy with physical affection it’s hard to cuddle with him without him fainting. Usually he only cuddles with you when he’s half-asleep and unaware of what he’s doing, and only then he pulls you to his side and all but curls himself around you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He can cook a little bit, and he can clean fairly well. At the moment, he doesn’t want to settle down. He wants to become a pro hero first. Judging by his commitment to the grind, the day he gets married and has a family may never come.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would kill him, but he’d set you down and gently explain why you can’t be together anymore. He would keep any and all tears at bay until he’s alone, and then he spends a night training and crying, trying to get your hurt expression out of his mind.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’s very reluctant to commit. He’s still just a teenager, after all, and he’s got a whole career as a hero ahead of him. He doesn’t want to get married because he doesn’t want his loved ones in danger; he already keeps his mom fairly out of the loop just because he doesn’t want Shigaraki going after her.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s definitely a little more gentle with you in both ways. He really cares for you and doesn’t want to hurt you, especially while you’re a civilian. This can be a bit of a double-edged sword at times, but he more than makes up for it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Having grown up with a really affectionate mom, Izuku likes hugs. He can’t help but get horribly flustered every time you hug him, but he does love them. He’s not going to initiate it, but he hugs back tight enough so that you can’t be separated. Sometimes when he’s sleepy he’ll wander around and hug you, hiding his face in your neck as he mumbles something about his mother. It’s really cute.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would take a lot for him to realize he caught feelings for you. Like, a lot. This boy is so oblivious it’s likely he’d never actually say it. It would take you telling him for him to start thinking about it, and even then it would be a while before he admits it back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He can get fairly jealous, but depending on who it is he’s not going to act on it. Usually it comes about that he gets insecure about your relationship and is worried that you’ll find someone better than him. If he gets a seriously bad vibe about the person you’re with, he'll go up to you and try to walk you away.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If you kiss him right on the mouth, he’s going to pass out. If you kiss him on the cheek, he gets red as a tomato and starts stuttering. It can be irritating sometimes. He does like it, though; he’s just so shy he doesn’t initiate. Sometimes he’ll kiss your forehead absentmindedly.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s pretty good around little kids. He’s got a way about him that gets their attention. It’s so adorable seeing him interact with kids like Kota and Eri due to how obviously starstruck they are.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Whoa now, both of you are still first-years. I don’t imagine ever sleeping at the same place (unless he needs a place to crash at in the future). Going ahead a few years, when he’s already a pro, it’s likely he’d get up way before you, cook breakfast for you, eat, and leave -- leaving a note saying that he thanks you for your hospitality and he’s sorry to impose. What a gentleman.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Again, going into the future when he’s a pro, the only way he’s staying the night at your place is if something happens and he needs to stay. He’s incredibly apologetic as he thanks you for letting him stay. He retires to the guest bed when you retire to your room, and he’s out like a light.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He doesn’t reveal anything about OFA, of course, but sometimes he’ll give you tidbits about his life. He tends to be a bit more hesitant about his past, but he has lots of stories about the present that he likes to share.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He can be very patient, especially when it comes to his friends. It takes a fair bit to set him off. Usually it’s when he sees an injustice that his friendly smile drops and he gets serious. Or when Bakugo is being horribly rude again, though that’s more of a rarity these days.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He documents everything he can about you. Sometimes this accidentally creeps into stalking territory, but he’s usually good about realizing that and backing off. He tries to remember everything you tell him about yourself because of how close you are.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment? He has a lot that he considers his ‘favorites’. Picking just one, though, he fondly remembers the first time you told him you loved him -- he was in the hospital after a bad run-in with a villain, and you visited him with flowers and tears, demanding that he not be so reckless because you loved him. It really got him thinking about your relationship and kicked off his realization that he loved you back.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s incredibly protective of those he cares about, and you are definitely not an exception. He’s so protective he would rather pull a Nana Shimura than let you get hurt because of him, so you’ll have to do a lot of scolding to get him to stay put.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts his all into stuff between you two. Gifts for every date, he remembers every anniversary (and gives you presents for that too), occasionally brings you your favorite snack whenever he sees you -- there’s a reason he jotted down everything he knows about you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Like I said before, he’s so self-sacrificing that he would pull a Nana before ever letting you get targeted. It can be infuriating when he avoids you for a while due to this, and while he is incredibly apologetic it’s the first thing his mind goes to. His mumbling can be a bit irritating if you don’t have the patience for it. He can be a bit of a stalker towards certain people until they realize and tell him to quit. He’s so dedicated to being a hero that it’s often all he thinks about.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He can be concerned, but only when he looks at his scars. Sometimes he can be fairly self-conscious about how scarred his body is, especially when he gets depressed and anxious.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Honestly? At first, but he would push it down in time. He loves you so much that he would rather you not have to associate with him if it meant you were safe, and no matter how much that hurts, he would do it. It doesn’t mean he wouldn’t keep an eye on you from afar, but eventually he would be able to push the pain down and go about his duties.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Gets incredibly clingy when he’s half-awake. So much so that Bakugo is the only one who’s used to it the first time it happens in the dorms (and surprisingly doesn’t make a fuss). Whenever there’s a major exam, there’s at least one night where Izuku passes out on someone and will not stop clinging to them. Usually it’s Uraraka or Iida, much to the former’s excitement/embarrassment.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Nothing villainous. Nobody rude, or abusive, or manipulative. He’s had enough abuse from his peers, and now that he’s got a healthy friend group, he’s not going to tolerate that from even a s/o. Especially not anyone who’s against the hero world. As much as he has his doubts, he’s not going to go out with a villain.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Fairly regular sleeping pattern, given that he’s only a student. He goes to bed kinda late, but wakes up early to work out.

#sfw alphabet #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #deku

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ask-the-childrenofrevolution · 3 years

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FOIOP Ch.1 A Typical Day

Beep...Beep...Beep. From a night stand an alarm clock buzzed abruptly, causing the sheets of the neighboring bed to shuffle around. A fuzzy hand soon appeared from beneath the sheets and clumsily swiped at the air as it tried to shut off the alarm. Eventually the figure removed the sheets off of them completely, revealing a young cat Mink. He had a pink nose that was surrounded by a light sand color that enveloped the entirety of his muzzle, even leading down beyond his neck. The rest of the boy’s fur was harvest gold, with light brown stripes that started from the tip of his ears to the end of his tail. The young Mink let out an inaudible grown as he finally opened his ruby eyes. Now that the boy was able to see his alarm clock, he was able to end the constant beeping with the press of a button. The Mink then proceeded to stretch his arms and legs before finally getting out of bed and heading to his closet. Inside was a wardrobe of one-piece suits, all in the exact same color and fashion as the one next to it. They were all white and blue with the symbol of the World Government on the front while the back was marked with “G-4”. The Mink seemed to ponder a bit on which suit to take before finally deciding to grab the one farthest to the right. From there the Mink then proceeded to the bathroom to prepare for the day. The first stop was the shower, being a Mink meant that taking good care of one’s fur was vital. A well washed coat could be the difference between a Mink being in good health or not. Once he was finished with getting dress the young Mink finally stepped out of his room and walked towards the kitchen where his dad was preparing breakfast. “Morning Charley! Today’s the big day, so I made you your favorite breakfast; pancakes with hash browns and scrambled eggs”! Came the enthusiastic voice of a Golden Retriever Mink. His tail wagged back and forth as he flipped a pancake over on the stove’s grill. “Morning dad. Where’s mom? Did she get called in to work early”? Charley asked as he grabbed a plate from the cabinet. “Yup, one of the McClatchy's young boys got a hold of Mr. McClatchy’s SEAHORSE and somehow managed to flush it down the toilet. As you can guess it wrecked the pipes which caused some flooding in water treatment, so the Over Admiral called in your mom and the other mechanics early this morning to go down there and patch things up.” Nugget said as he placed a stack of pancakes on Charley’s plate. “So, mom is literally knee-high in...” Charley cut himself off at the end to avoid cursing. “I guess she is.” Nugget responded with a light chuckle. The two then sat down for breakfast. Charley was able to finish almost half of his meal before his father spoke up. “Today’s the day you get the results from your GOAT, are you excited”? Nugget asked his son. The Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test or GOAT for short was a placement test that was used to place young barricade dwellers in existing barricade jobs based on their knowledge and talents. This test was made to ensure the barricade would remain up and running for generations to come. Charley took a sip of his synthetic orange juice before answering. “No, I’m actually really nervous. There are certain jobs in the barricade that I know I would be horrible at.” Charley replied as his ears and tail drooped. Nugget could see that his son was in a lot of distress, so he offered some words of advice. “Well, you’ll never know until you try, and even if you have a slip up it can be used as a learning experience for the next time.” Nugget said. Charley gave a small smile; he was always surprised by how optimistic his dad was. No matter how bad things got, Nugget could always find something positive out of it. “Your right dad, maybe I have a hidden talent for something or if I ended up in the diner with you, then I wouldn’t have to worry about royally screwing up since you taught me all I know about cooking.” Charley said hopeful. “See, that’s the spirit”! Nugget said as he playfully ruffled his son’s hair. Nearby the family’s antique grandfather clock chimed as the hour hand reached eight. “Well, I better get going, don’t want to be late for class.” Charley said as he got up from the dining chair. “Good luck and don’t forget what we talked about.” Nugget said. “I won’t.” Charley said as he strapped on his SEAHORSE and exited his home. Before we continue let’s dive deeper into what a SEAHORSE is. The SEAHORSE otherwise known as the Sustainable Electric Assisting Hazardous Obstacles Survival Equipment, is a nifty little gadget that was created by the scientist at Sea-Tec. This mechanical marvel is given to barricade dwellers on their twelfth birthday from the Over- Admiral. Worn on the forearm, the SEAHORSE is a multi-tool that helps barricade dwellers keep tabs on their health and items, as well as map out the user’s surroundings. It also has a built-in Geiger counter to warn the wearer of any radiation leaks within the barricade. The SEAHORSE is also equipped with a security identification system that only allows the user and any blood relatives to use their device, this system makes it easier for the next generation to access helpful information left by the previous generation. Charley had just taken the elevator with a group of his fellow students to the instructional floor. While heading down, the students were chatting with each other over what job they hoped to be placed in. With each passing floor Charley could feel his anxiety slowly returning. “It’ll be fine, it's not going to be that bad, just remember what dad said.” Charley said as he tried to console himself. From behind Charley felt a hand touch his shoulder, this made the cat mink physically jump as he let out a yelp of surprised. Charley quickly turned around and came face to face with his friend Johari. “Well good morning to you too.” Johari said. “Sorry Jo, you kind of caught me off guard there.” Charley said apologetically. “No worries C, but you seem a bit more on edge today than normal, is everything alright”? Johari asked. “It's the GOAT, my dad had finally managed to calm my nerves, but their starting to act up again.” Charley replied. “I think there are a lot of students who are in the same boat as you today.” Johari said. “Really? They all look quiet chipper to me.” Charley replied as he looked around the elevator at the smiling faces of his classmates. Charley felt his ears and tail drooped once more. “No way C, their all nervous. They're just trying to hide it behind hope and dreams about how cool it would be if they ended up as Over Admiral.” Johari said. “Over Admiral? Isn’t that being a bit to hopeful”? Charley asked. “Not really, anything is possible. Heck I hope I can be Over Admiral just to get my parents off my back.” Johari said. “They're still hounding you about studying to be a barricade loyalty inspector”? Charley asked. “Yes, and it's so annoying”! Johari groaned. “I keep telling them that those inspectors are nothing but narks, yet they keep telling me that my family has had that position for generations and that “Its what’s best for the barricade.” Johari said in a mocking tone of voice. Johari leaned her back against the wall before slumping down to the floor, lowering her head to her curled-up knees. “I don’t want to betray my friends.” Johari quietly told Charley. Charley sat down next to his friend as the elevator continued downwards. He had known Johari since they were babies, they grew up together in the barricade and she was often the one to protect Charley from any bullies that wanted to pick on the easily frightened Mink. After a deep sigh Johari looked up at the elevator’s ceiling. “Sometimes I wonder if life would be better outside of the barricade.” Johari confessed. Charley felt the fur on the back of his neck stand up. “Johari you shouldn’t say that in public, what if someone overhears you”? Charley responded as he glanced around the elevator to see if anyone had overheard Johari’s confession. “Besides, we don’t know what’s out there, if anything.” Charley said. “Even if there’s nothing but a black void beyond the barricade door, that would still be better than being a snitch.” Johari replied. Charley felt really bad for his friend, while his parents allowed and supported Charley to explore his interest, Johari was constricted to only following the path her parents laid out for her, any divergent was looked down upon. Johari’s parents were fully dedicated to what the Over Admiral thought was best for the barricade and would do whatever was necessary to ensure the Over Admiral’s demands were met. A sudden ding of a bell caught Charley, Johari, and the other students' attention as the elevator had finally reached the educational floor. Charley brought his attention back to Johari who was already up and heading for the exit. “C’mon we don’t want to be late for class.” Johari plainly said. Charley wanted to intervene but by then Johari had already left the elevator. The classroom was a buzz with students talking and gossiping with one another. Charley was quietly seated at his desk, still concerned over Johari. He really wanted to help his friend avoid getting the job she dreaded so much, but what could one Mink like him do? Charley let out a defeated sigh as the feeling of helplessness swarmed over him. “Hey furball”! Shouted Gus, the local barricade bully. The beefy teen wrapped his arm around Charley’s neck, not enough to cut off the Mink’s breathing but enough to hold Charley in place. “What do you want Gus”? Charley asked, more annoyed at the bully’s presence today than his usual fearfulness. “Today’s the day we get the results of our GOAT and I just wanted to let you know ahead of time that I like my burgers medium rare, capiche”? Gus said as he squeezed Charley’s neck enough to cause the Mink to try gasping for air. “c..c..capisco.” Charley weakly responded. “Good.” Gus said as he released Charley from his grasp. “Alright class, settle down.” Came the voice of Charley’s homeroom teacher Mr. Anderson. The class became quiet and turned their attention to Mr. Anderson. “Good morning everyone, I hope you all got enough rest last night because today we have a lot to go over.” Mr. Anderson said. Everyone in the classroom let out a groan of disapproval about the work ahead. Mr. Anderson let out a chuckle. “Alright, alright I’m just pulling your guy's legs. Instead, we will be going over the results of the GOAT.” Mr. Anderson announced. This immediately caught the class’s attention as they soon found themselves at the edges of their seats in anticipation. Charley though tried to make himself as unnoticeable as possible, sinking further into his seat while curling up his tail and flattening his ears. Mr. Anderson pulled out a metal briefcase and set it on top of his desk. A click could be heard as the latches of the briefcase came undone. Mr. Anderson then showed his class the sealed envelopes that were inside. The class stared on in awe and horror. In their teacher’s hand was the envelopes that contained their future. “So... Who wants to go first”? Mr. Anderson asked. The students looked at each other in terror, who would be the first one to take the plunge? Charley looked behind him to see Johari staring at the envelopes. He knew she was dreading the results and had the most to lose no matter what the outcome was. Maybe if his results were just as bad, Johari wouldn’t have to suffer alone. The young Mink nervously raised his hand. “Yes, Charley”? Mr. Anderson asked. Charley could immediately feel all eyes fall on him. He never liked being the center of attention and for a moment Charley thought of telling Mr. Anderson that he was only stretching or make the excuse that he just needed to use the bathroom, but looking at Johari Charley knew he couldn’t abandon her like that. With a lump in his throat Charley spoke up. “I..I.. I, Mr. Anderson I w..would like to have m..my re..results p..p..please.” Charley stuttered. “I’m very surprised Mr. Nolasco, glad to see that you’re taking the initiative.” Mr. Anderson said happily. Mr. Anderson searched through the envelopes until he found Charley’s. He pulled the envelope out and placed it on Charley’s desk. “Good luck Mr. C.” Mr. Anderson said. On the envelope was the GOAT’s logo, a little goat standing on a little hill while it chewed on some papers, behind it was a rising sun emblazoned with the World Governments symbol. On the flap of the envelope was Charley’s full name; Charley Nolasco. His family's maiden name Nolasco was a keepsake from all the way back to the first Mink inhabitants of Barricade G-4. From behind him, Charley could feel his classmates overlooking him. “Aren’t you going to open it”? Asked one classmate. “Yeah, let’s see what you got Charley.” Another classmate said. Johari managed to squeeze herself next to Charley’s side. Somehow having his friend by him gave Charley the courage to open the envelope. Dear Mr. Nolasco, We want to congratulate you on passing this big milestone in your life as a barricade dweller. The GOAT is an important staple in every barricade and ensures that everyone has a part to play in our fight for survival in this post-apocalyptic world. We here at Sea-Tec have made sure to carefully look over and review every GOAT to ensure that our young barricade dwellers are properly placed in positions best suited to their skills and abilities. After careful evaluation of your test scores Mr. Nolasco, Sea-Tec was rather impressed by your skills in judgement, problem solving, and negotiation. As a result, we are happy to announce that you will be placed as Barricade G-4's next Over Admiral upon the completion of your senior year of school. On behalf of all of us here at Sea-Tec we want to say congratulations on your big achievement and wish you the best of luck on your future endeavor as Over Admiral. Sincerely, Your friends at Sea-Tec.

Charley and his classmates stared at the piece of paper, mouths agape. Charley’s brain was having a hard time processing what was happening and the only thing that snapped him out of his stupor was Mr. Anderson. “That’s sure one way to start off the school day, congratulations Charley”! Mr. Anderson said with a smile. From beside him, Charley could ever so slightly hear Johari whisper her reaction. “Holy fucking shit dude.” Johari said stunned. The students around Charley were all looking at him, expecting a reaction. “What”? Charley asked. “I can see this is going to take some time for you to process this, so I’ll let you be for right now. In the meantime, does anyone else want to volunteer” Mr. Anderson asked the rest of his class. “What’s the point? Charley already has the best job anyone can get in this place!” Gus complained. “Now, now Mr. Dalton there are plenty of other exciting jobs here in the barricade.” Mr. Anderson assured. “Yeah, but that still leaves that furball as our boss.” Gus grumbled. Charley’s ears perked up at that. If he was going to be the one running the barricade, then maybe he can... “Charley Nolasco to the Over Admiral’s office please, Charley Nolasco to the Over Admiral’s office please.” Came a monotone female voice from the barricade’s intercom system. There came an echo of oohs as the students thought Charley had done something to warrant a visit to the Over Admiral’s office. As he got up from his desk, Charley felt Johari grab his arm. “Everything's going to be fine.” Johari reassured. Charley nodded his head before leaving the classroom. The Over Admiral’s office was located a level above the barricade’s atrium. As Charley headed up, his thoughts became occupied by the results of his GOAT. “I’m going to be Over Admiral, I’m going to be Over Admiral. How did this happen? What should I do? Am I even capable of handling all that responsibility”? Charley questioned himself. Charley soon found himself outside of the Over Admiral’s office. In front of the Over Admiral’s office were two barricade security guards, they stood armed and at the ready. Charley felt very uneasy around the armed guards. “Halt, no one is allowed to enter the Over Admiral’s office without and appointment.” One security guard called out. Charley froze on the spot, easily intimidated by the guards. “Um, I’m Charley Nolasco, I was instructed by the intercom system to go to the Over Admiral’s office.” Charley spoke up. “Ah, you must be Ratchet’s son. Great job on the test kid. Go right on in, Over Admiral Brand is waiting for you inside.” The guard said. Charley thanked the two security guards before heading into the Over Admiral’s office. A putrid stench hit the young Mink’s nostrils as soon as he entered. Charley was taken aback by the smell and felt like he was going to vomit, however he held back the bile once he saw his parents sitting in front of the Over Admiral’s desk. “Charley! I heard the big news, congratulations sweetie”! Said Ratchet. Like her son, Ratchet was also a cat Mink though instead of having the bluish green hair and golden fur, she instead had gray fur with a few darker gray stripes with Orchid colored hair. Ratchet tried to give her son a hug but stopped her advances once she saw her son covering his nose and backing away. “Sorry mom, no offense but you kind of smell like sewage right now.” Charley said. “I’m sorry hon, I was called in to the Over Admiral’s right after work and didn’t have any time to wash up.” Ratchet explained. Nugget stood close to his wife, not seeming to mind the stench. “Hey kiddo the Over Admiral just let us in on your GOAT results. I knew you would ace it”! Nugget said as he gave his son a big hug. “Ah Charley, glad to see that you were able to make it, please take a seat.” Said Over Admiral Brand. Brand was a finely built man, he wasn’t too muscular, nor too thin. He had slick back bronze hair and petite handlebar mustache with a few strands of grey. Brand wore a fancy suit reminiscent to those Charley would see the Gorosei wearing in old school books. “I was just telling your parents about your GOAT results. I have to say Mr. And Mrs. Nolasco you two have quiet the brilliant boy there. You must be really proud.” Over Admiral Brand said. “We most certainly are sir.” Nugget said. Over Admiral Brand noticed Charley seemed uneasy. “Is everything alright Charley”? Over Admiral Brand asked. “Over Admiral, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to get distracted in the middle of our meeting.” Charley apologized. “It's alright Charley. I was in the same position as you when I was told that I was going to be the next Over Admiral. It can be very overwhelming to someone so young, but thankfully those of us in the older generation are here to help guide the next generation into filling in our positions.” Over Admiral Brand said. Once young barricade dwellers had received the results of their GOAT, they would be assigned to shadow and study under an experience barricade dweller in their assigned job field up until the young barricade dweller graduated from school. Upon completion of their graduation the young barricade dweller would then take over the position of their retiring superior and thus the cycle of barricade life continues. Over Admiral Brand then got up from his chair. “Here Charley, take my seat, I think the future Over Admiral should get a good head start by knowing the layout of their work space.” Over Admiral Brand said. Charley looked on in awe at the fine leather seat before him, it was every bit as fancy as Charley imagined and every bit as comfortable. “How does it feel”? Over Admiral Brand asked. “Like I’m sitting on top of a cloud sir.” Charley responded. Over Admiral Brand laughed. “Charley, we are on equal footing now, you don’t have to address me as sir or Over Admiral, just Brand will do.” Brand said. “Thank you, sir... Brand.” Charley corrected himself. “No worries Charley, now let me show you some of the nifty features this office has.” Brand said. The Over Admiral showed Charley the basic functions of the barricade, from the security cameras to monitoring the vital barricade life supporting systems. It was a lot to take in but Brand assured Charley that he would get the Mink familiar with the barricade’s system during Charley’s internship. Charley noticed a small computer on the far left of the Over Admiral’s desk. “What’s that for”? Charley asked. Brand seemed hesitant but spoke up. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but that little computer there controls the barricade door.” Brand admitted. “The door can be opened”? Charley asked astonished. “It can, but it's still too dangerous on the surface for us to go out.” Brand answered. “When will it be safe for us to return topside”? Charley asked. “The World Government is keeping tab of things up there, once they deem the surface is safe to live on again, they will notify Sea-Tec, who will then notify all of their barricades that we can leave the barricade.” Brand replied. “And when will that be”? Ratchet questioned, a hint of suspicion in her tone. Charley’s mother was not one who would blindly follow orders, if she grew cautious of something she wouldn’t just let it go, especially if it put her family at risk. Ratchet’s rebellious nature usually left her bumping heads with the Over Admiral and the two could sometimes be heard arguing with one another from all the way in the atrium. “Now, now Ratchet. Let’s not ruin your son’s big day. I’m sure Charley here probably wants to celebrate with his friends and family.” Brand said. Ratchet dropped her inquiries, but only for Charley’s sake. “Speaking of your friends, how would you like to dismiss class early today”? Brand asked. “Our you sure we can do that Mr. Brand”? Charley responded. “Why not, you kids deserve a break after a tough test like the GOAT, plus an early dismissal is sure to earn you some brownie points with your fellow classmates.” Brand said. The Over Admiral then took the den den mushi on his desk and gave the microphone to Charley. Charley looked at the microphone and then back to the Over Admiral who gave a nod of approval. Charley grinned as he spoke into the microphone. “Attention class of Barricade G-4. This is Charley Nolasco with an important message from the Over Admiral’s office. As of now, all classes today will be dismissed.” Charley said as he heard his voice over the intercom system. From the floor beneath them, Charley could hear the whoops and hollers of his classmates celebrating their early release. Looking up at the security monitors, Charley could see Johari entering the hallway from Mr. Anderson’s class. Johari didn’t seem happy about class being let out and Charley didn’t have to guess that her down mood was related to her GOAT result’s. “Hey, Mr. Brand.” Charley said. “Yes, Charley”? Brand responded. “As Over Admiral would I have the power to override someone’s GOAT results”? Charley asked. “Unfortunately, that’s the one thing an Over Admiral cannot do. The Goat was designed by the World Government and Marines to ensure the survival of those in the barricade, they would be the only ones who could change the results of a barricade dweller’s GOAT.” Brand sadly responded. Charley’s ears and tail dropped once more with the thought of Johari being stuck in a job that would bring her nothing but grief. The Over Admiral looked at the disheartened Mink and to the screen Johari was on, a smile soon grew on his face. “However, there is a loop hole that can negate the GOAT if, let’s say there is an empty spot on the barricade council.” Brand said.

Charley’s ears began to perk up as the young Mink listened to the Over Admiral. “And Mrs. Palmer will be retiring soon...” Brand trailed off. Charley felt his smile returning as he realized what the Over Admiral was suggesting. “Then, I could have Johari fill in the vacant spot since Sea-Tec wouldn’t allow the barricade council to operate without a full cabinet.” Charley added. The Over Admiral nodded his head. “Although an Over Admiral can’t change the results of the GOAT, they can choose who can be on the council, especially if the candidate in question has good credentials and looking at your friend Johari’s GOAT results here, she more than qualifies to fill Mrs. Palmer’s spot.” Brand said. Charley felt like he could fly. This was it, for once Charley felt that everything was going to be smooth sailing from this day forward.

#one piece #oc #au #revolutionary army #world government #fallout #crossover #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #nuclear #wasteland #barricade #vault

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