#everyone send me good luck for this move it is going to be quite stressful
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i’m moving house this weekend so my shop will be closed! looking to reopen mid july, but i will keep you all updated ♥️ any messages/queries on orders will of course still be answered :)!
#everyone send me good luck for this move it is going to be quite stressful#i’m moving home from university back to my parents house#so it’s going to take quite. shuffle to organise everything into my space#so it will take me a bit to get back into the groove#thank you for being understanding ♥️♥️♥️
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all I ask - part three
warnings: language, fighting
pairing: peter parker x reader, soulmate au
word count: 2.8k
masterlist ~ requests are closed ~ part four
~
"When will I see you again?"
You bit your lip as you adjusted the phone closer to your ear. "I don't know. Hopefully soon."
The silence on the other end was a clear sign of disappointment, and it hurt you, too. "Okay. I guess I can forgive you as long as you bring me a souvenir."
You laughed, "Sure, whatever you want."
You let your sister continue rambling about whatever was going on at her school. Your gaze moved down to your wrist, and the lack of the soulmate mark almost made you lose your concentration on what she was saying.
The soulmate mark was just simple, the same for everyone, and it disappeared whenever you met your other half. You forgot about that - you'd need to cover it somehow so no one noticed it was gone.
"You still there?" Her voice brought you back to the present, and you made yourself respond.
"Yeah, sorry, kid," you rubbed your forehead, "Just been a little stressed. I promise I'm listening."
She didn't know what you were really in New York for. She didn't know who kept sending her money to be able to stay in a nice boarding school.
You weren't planning on telling her the truth anytime soon.
It was a while later that you finally got off the phone with her. The boarding school was strict about phone calls, and you only got to talk to her once a month if you were lucky. Still, that was somewhat of a blessing - you missed her so much, but it was easier to do what you were doing if she wasn't around.
You frowned down at your desk, which was littered in pictures from what you were doing before she called. All your homework was finished and you needed a distraction from the way it went talking to Peter last night. Unfortunately, you chose to redo your photo wall, and at least half of them had Peter in them.
You picked up one of your favorites, back in your first high school decathlon tournament. He had been riding the high of beating a high school that hadn't lost since the nineties, and his smile was your favorite thing - so you snapped a picture to remember that moment.
That picture of Peter almost seemed to be taunting you, now. It felt really cruel that you universe decided to give you the soulmate you wanted - but made him hate you in return.
Maybe you deserved it. Stealing wasn't exactly a good thing, even if you tried to justify it by stealing only from rich people who you really believed couldn't have gotten their wealth ethically, anyway. It didn't matter to everyone else, though - stealing was stealing.
And sometimes you hurt people. It wasn't intentional, ever - the bad luck power seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes.
But your eyes moved to the picture of you and your sister, and you remembered why you did it in the first place.
Still, there was a problem now that you didn't think would be one. Your soulmate wouldn't accept you as Black Cat. You actually had a reason to want to stop, which you never had before. Right now it wasn't an option - unless you managed to get a really big win, you still needed to put more away until you could even consider quitting.
Would it even matter, though? The hatred in Peter's words made it clear it would take a while for him to even tolerate you, and even if you stopped...would it change his mind?
You didn't want to get your hopes up on that.
-
Going to school the next day was terrifying. All you could think about was stupid scenarios where Peter had found out you were Black Cat and he'd yell at you, which you knew was ridiculous. Between the mask, the voice alterations you put in said mask, and the way your powers worked...he shouldn't be able to find out.
Unless you slipped up in another way.
It took everything in you not to focus on that. It didn't help when you got to school earlier than planned and he also happened to be there already. You almost stopped walking when you saw him waiting by the front gate, a coffee holder in one hand and his phone in the other.
His expression definitely made you want to turn around and take a sick day.
He looked...really sad. You wanted to be angry at the universe for doing this to him, but really...it was your fault. Maybe you should have just left him alone.
Too late for that now.
You almost felt surprised when Peter lit up as soon as he saw you, but you had to remember that when you weren't donning the mask and cat ears, Peter was your best friend.
"Hey," he handed you your coffee, and you took it with a small smile.
"Hey," you said back, "Thanks for this."
"'Course, I had a feeling you'd need a pick me up after yesterday," he chuckled, and you stared at him.
"...Yesterday?"
"The physics exam?" He raised an eyebrow, "I honestly thought you were going to burn your test when the hour was up."
"Oh, right," you forced a laugh, chiding yourself for thinking he was talking about anything else. "Yeah, it sucked."
You wanted to ask him why he looked upset when you walked up, even though you knew. That was what you normally would do if you saw him look like that. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask - what if he told you he met his soulmate? Worse, what if he told you his soulmate was Black Cat?
Peter was smart. Surely he wouldn't babble about that to anyone, even you - at least not specifically. That kind of information could be dangerous. Many people were angry with you for stealing from them - one wrong person finding out Black Cat had a soulmate, and he'd be in danger.
For the first time, you felt bad for whoever was under Spider-Man's mask. With the amount of criminals he had thrown in jail, if his soulmate's identity was ever found out, they'd be in loads more danger than Peter could be from you.
"You okay?" Peter's voice brought you back to the present, and you forced a nod.
"Yeah, just had a long week," you smiled slightly, "At least the physics exam and the soulmate essay are behind us now."
You regretted saying that immediately. Peter's face soured at the mention of the soulmate essay. "Right. Behind us."
You could almost feel his anger, and you tensed. It was hard to remember that the bond could easily expose you. It was too easy for soulmates to read each other, and if Peter started paying too much attention to you...
"Hey guys!" Ned's voice almost made you jump. "I aced the physics exam!"
"Oh God, are grades out already?" You put your head in your hand, "I'm too scared to look."
"If Ned aced, you definitely did fine," Peter reassured you, and you chuckled as Ned gave him a dirty look.
"I'm on track for valedictorian, asshole. I'm going to win that and rub it so in your face."
"Thanks for that," Peter rolled his eyes before glancing at you, "Please beat him, Y/N. If not for yourself, then for me. I can't stand it if he wins and brags forever."
"I don't know, physics is my greatest enemy." Aside from Spider-Man, maybe. Physics put up a pretty convincing fight.
It took you a while to relax around Peter again, but you told yourself to not get used to it. It wasn't fair to have him like one version of you and despite the other. If anything, it made you even worse for messing with his feelings for you like that, when he wasn't even aware.
At this point, you didn't have a choice. You couldn't tell him who you were, end of story. And you also didn't want to give up on him so easily as Black Cat. Even with how bad last night's visit had gone...wouldn't it be bad to give up now?
"Black Cat stole over 100k from some dude last night," were the first words out of Flash's mouth when he saw you both in study hall later. You had to keep yourself from correcting him - it definitely wasn't that much. Even the idiot you stole from wouldn't have kept that much cash on hand.
You had to hand it to him, though - claiming you stole more than you actually did meant more people looking for you and more cash you would have to return. As if you'd ever get caught.
You had glanced at Peter, watching his expression sour as Flash kept ranting about it. It made you shrink back into your chair and go back to your notes. You never thought you would have to try to make Peter like you. It was always easy to be his friend. Obviously, he didn't know you were Black Cat when you met, though.
This was so stupid.
"Dude, bummer about your click yesterday," were the firsts words out of Ned's mouth when he joined you both at the lunch table. You almost choked on your food. Why was everyone deciding to say the worst possible things to announce their presence today?
"Ned!" Peter snapped, making Ned shut his mouth immediately, "I told you I wasn't planning on saying anything to anyone about that!"
"Sorry, I didn't think Y/N counted in that," Ned frowned, giving you an apologetic glance.
"So, you met your soulmate, huh?" You forced yourself to ask, and Peter put his head in his hands, "Since Ned spilled the beans anyway, are you gonna at least tell me about them?"
That was what you would have said if you had been clueless to the situation, like Peter and Ned had to assume you were. You couldn't be annoyed that Peter told Ned he met his soulmate - you just had to hope he didn't tell him who it was. At least for now, because you couldn't tell Peter you were the Black Cat, you had to pretend. That would be a stupid thing to do, regardless of you being soulmates.
"She's awful," Peter mumbled, and you tried not to wince, "I don't even want to talk about it."
"Oh," you hesitated before putting a hand on his shoulder, forcing yourself to ignore the hurt that this reaction was causing you. "I'm sorry, Pete. We don't have to talk about it."
Awful. He thought you were awful. You wanted to be angry about that, but you knew you couldn't be - his reaction was completely justified. Being the soulmate of a criminal was probably the worst thing to happen.
Maybe it wasn't a good thing, but that statement solidified in your mind your decision to not give up on him. No one spent enough time around Black Cat to know what she was really like. Maybe Peter couldn't accept that you were a criminal - but you could at least try to get him to accept that you were his soulmate.
One way or another.
-
"Get out."
You didn't really expect Peter to react any differently. He had his arms crossed and a frown on his face when you landed on his balcony at the same time you had a few nights before. It seemed like he expected you, which was strange, considering he told you not to come back.
Maybe you should've listened.
"I brought a peace offering," you ignored Peter's words and placed the pastry bag on the window sill, watching his expression carefully. You knew firsthand that he was a sucker for a certain bakery near school. "I'd like to try to talk again."
He looked back up at you cautiously, before reaching for the bag. Without wasting a second, he tossed the entire bag in his trash can. Honestly, you were more annoyed that he wasted perfectly good treats than the fact that he did it just to hurt you. Besides, what did you expect?
"Well, that was a bit dramatic."
"For fucks sake, would you just leave me alone?" He snapped, and you were glad your mask covered your face to hide your reaction to that. "What is the point of this? The universe made a mistake. Can't I move on with my life?"
"Peter," you said softly, "It's not that simple."
"Why?" He demanded, "Why can't you just give up on me? I don't want you. I never will want you. How can I make that more clear?"
"You've made it pretty clear," you mumbled, and Peter just scoffed.
"Then what are you doing?"
You didn't really have an answer, at least not one that you could say out loud. It was stupid to continue to wish for something you couldn't have. But you'd do almost anything to make it so your click happened when you were just regular Y/N.
"Believe it or not, I used to doodle little hearts in my notebooks during middle school just at the idea of my soulmate," you admitted, "And come up with the perfect scenarios in my head for when I finally found them. I was so in love with the idea of finding you that I thought about it almost every day. Soulmate love is the most special kind of love, in my opinion. It was my biggest dream to be able to have it."
"Why are you telling me this?" He sounded defeated, and you tried to ignore the fear of rejection you've always had to at least get these words out. You would definitely need to get over that if you were going to keep trying to talk to Peter.
"Despite what you think you know about me, I'm also human. I have dreamed about meeting you forever, and I messed it up really badly. I need you to know that I can't let myself give up this easily. I would be failing myself if I did."
"You don't even know me," he countered, and you couldn't tell him that wasn't really true. "There's nothing about me that could possibly make you want to keep trying. Not with the way I've been treating you."
"I remember how confident you were during that regional tournament," you almost smiled, because what you were about to tell him wasn't even a lie. "You know what's funny? You were the only one that could answer every question right, and I knew you were the smartest person in the room. I didn't have a chance in hell of beating you. And I would never admit that someone was better than me in those tournaments, so that's saying a lot."
He was staring at you like he was trying to remember the tournament, and maybe narrow down some kind of mental list he had of girls that he competed against. It didn't matter - you never actually competed against him, but he didn't know that. He didn't say anything else, so you continued.
"I like that you aren't afraid of me, like everyone else is," you said quietly, "I like that you are honest with me, even if it hurts. I like the way the bond feels when I'm near you, and you can pretend you don't feel it too, but I know you do. I like you, Peter. I'm not going to apologize for that."
He stared at you for a second before sitting down with you. Not really with you - he was about as far from you as possible, but it didn't matter. Your heart still felt like it would burst when he looked up at you.
"If you tell me who you are...maybe I'll reconsider my feelings for you."
They were just pretty words, and you could easily tell. You weren't sure if it was how well you knew him or the soulmate bond giving you the advantage of knowing his true feelings, but it was easy to know that he didn't mean what he said. So you let out a loud laugh, throwing your head back.
"That was a really impressive try," you almost grinned at the frustration on his expression, "If I tell you who I am, you'll contact authorities, and then tomorrow Spider-Man himself will probably show up at my house to arrest me. I honestly think that's some kind of dream of his. Look, I want you to trust me, and I want to trust you, but clearly we aren't there yet."
"So, what? You're just going to keep coming here and bothering me when you know it won't result in anything?"
"Yes, I am."
Peter looked away from you again. "Well. This will just be really disappointing for the both of us, then."
"We'll see."
~
tag list:
@somefuckshit1 @nocturnalms @sanniesdiary @peter-parkers-passport @chosuah01 @runawaywithmyghost @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @jallerentrags @spideysloverera @jemimah-b99 @redsakura101 @folklore-mcu
#peter parker x reader#peter parker fic#peter parker reader insert#spider-man x reader#spider-man fic#spiderman x reader
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Mario Kart
Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.
Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader
Word Count - 1,911 words
"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday.
She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.
He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.
"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.
Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch.
"What is it, again?" he asked curiously.
"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.
After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim.
"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.
"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"
Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."
Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him.
"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"
"What the hell?" Sam scoffed.
"What?"
"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"
"Uh, yeah!"
"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."
The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first.
"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.
"You got a problem?" Sam asked.
"No, but...why Luigi?"
"Who cares, I just chose him."
"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own.
"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"
"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.
Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!"
He selected Toad.
"Why him, Jack?" she asked.
"I like his hat."
Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap.
"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him.
"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.
She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads.
And with that, they were off.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"
"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."
Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"
Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."
Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map.
"You got in my way!" Y/N sang.
It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now.
Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.
Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.
Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.
"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"
Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"
"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened.
"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.
"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered.
With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"
"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself.
"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet.
"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"
"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front.
By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred.
"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably.
"We lost..." Sam mumbled.
"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.
"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"
"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"
"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.
"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller.
"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed.
"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.
"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."
"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.
"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"
With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping.
There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.
#supernatural#spn family#dean winchester#sam winchester#sister reader#sister!reader#winchester!reader#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x winchester!reader#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x winchester!reader#jack kline x winchester!reader#castiel x winchester!reader#castiel#castiel novak#jack#jack kline#funny#mario kart#fanfiction
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all worth it
pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader
summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.
warnings: none, just fluff
notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh
so tom loves his job, obviously
he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more
but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career
there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot
and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews
now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun
but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast
so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day
but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit
you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya
some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different
you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello
you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to
your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it
when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself
‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding
‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’
they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat
when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away
you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work
you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more
tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing
when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt
you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off
‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along
zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’
you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him
‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’
you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’
tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them
though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon
or so you thought, anyway
your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)
you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)
‘hi love, how are you?’
his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone
‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’
he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’
you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely
‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off
you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking
but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?
you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen
the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried
it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom
surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside
and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one
as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face
but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar
‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused
‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)
without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it
‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’
you laughed and looked up at him
‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’
you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled
he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’
you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him
and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside
were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?
he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat
tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i
zendaya: yeah but we already knew that
tom: 😑
harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy
jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch
jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏
tom: thanks babe 😘
zendaya: i’m just gonna go––
tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing
not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text
tom: nevermind she just texted me
tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up
maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are
you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind?
and you––nevermind he responded immediately
tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number
tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course
you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright
were you really about to facetime tom holland?
when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied
y/n: sure, i’d like that
he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered
when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly
‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly
your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face
‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’
when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked
‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile
‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’
soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing
‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’
‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’
and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever
after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it
‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’
you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’
you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again
you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you
‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’
you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’
‘even better than my movies?’
you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’
he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’
‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked
‘you know i will’ he smirked
by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change
honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%
which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you
‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you
‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’
he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview
once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work
‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’
‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’
he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’
you paused. of all times to flirt––
‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere
now the fans took notice of your bond with tom
they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars
there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––
‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’
and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not
you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you
i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing
it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up
you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said
‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly
he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’
you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’
‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’
#idk how i feel about this might delete it we’ll see#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland hc#tom holland headcanon#tom holland headcannon#tom holland fluff#tom holland x interviewer!reader
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Confessions pt2 - Reader x Driver
So here we have part two of Confessions . I had a hard time to understand how much I wanted to actually write. But it ended with some hard makeout session at the end. So if you ain't comfortable to read it to (--), it's nothing graphic more than naked skin. BUT ENJOY!
You ended up meeting him for the date night he promised you
Words: 2700 (ish)
Warning: Mention of alcohol and smut-ish
To overthink was nothing new, somedays you had better days, but lately it has been a constant thing for your to-do-list, everything started when you realize that he was the only one with a new phone number. You couldn’t contact him, if you didn’t send a direct message on Instagram. But thanks to him being a famous racing car driver you knew that he wouldn't be contactable on the app.
After that night you had been waiting for a text, a phone call or just something to ease your racing mind. To make you know that he thought about you just as much that you thought about him. He had confessed his love to you. If he wasn’t just drunkenly babbling stuff. But drunk sayings are sober thoughts as they say.
One thing that really made you uneasy is his reputation, what was so special about you that made him want to change? It was an open secret around the sport that he was a player. He always liked the attention, the girls flocking around him. Or so it appeared in interviews and videos. He would give a lucky girl a night to remember, but for him, it was only a challenge to get a girl the fastest and take her home. And you, you weren’t a one night stand kind of person, never been and never will be.
So here you are now, one and a half weeks later, in total radio silence. Waiting for him to reach out. In the heat of the moment you didn’t think about getting his number as well when he asked you about yours. And it felt wrong to send him a message on Instagram of all places. And who knews, he probably never checks his direct messengers on the named app. If it was you, you wouldn’t even bother to check the thousands of messengers they probably get sent everyday.
With phone in hand you scrolled through Instagram, trying to smooth the nagging feeling in your chest by looking at his profile. The whole circus was in the Netherlands this weekend to race. The new posts from this week were only pictures on his car from practise sessions. Which in say might not be so bad, the car’s livery is amazing this seson and you couldn’t say that it wasn’t kind of hot to see him drive on track. But just in this moment, you missed his face. Just to see in his eyes that he maybe did just as bad as you did to be countries apart.
You sight and put away your phone, it doesn’t make anything better to be here, late at night, looking at pictures of a man who probably only thought about racing this weekend. It was late, midnight was soon about to pass and you were working tomorrow. Bedtime it is, you decided.
After brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed you heard your phone go off. Vibrating like it’s life depended on it in the silence of your apartment. You picked it up and faced the display, unknown number it said. Who would be calling you at this time? A small part in you hoped that it would be him. That he had been laying awake, thinking about you, not being able to sleep and just needed to call you, hear your voice. You answered the call with hope in your chest. What if it wasn’t him?
“Hi,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you held when a familiar voice came through the line. “I’m sorry that I haven’t called earlier. It’s been a stressful couple of days.” You could hear it in his voice how tired and apologetic he sounded.
“It’s alright. I understand, It’s been a lot for me too,” you lied. It had been calm at work the past couple of days and it stressed you out. You needed customers to keep your pub going and the few regulars wasn't enough anymore when the business premises rent increased.
“So, I’ve been thinking about that date we talked about.” He said and your heartbeat started to race. Was he actually serious about that date after all?
“Yeah, what did you realise from that?” You let yourself ask.
“That I miss you, dearly,” you melted. He was actually serious! Or so you hoped that he was. “And we have two weeks till the next race after this one. So I thought about paying you a visit. If that’s not a problem. And like, I don’t know, make that drink I now owe you.”
“I would love that,” you smiled to yourself.
“Perfect, I really need to sleep now. But I call you and we make up the day and time!” You let out a small giggle and agreed, wishing him good luck on the weekend and a good night’s sleep before ending the call. The anxiety you had felt the last couple of days disappeared in an instant, making you fall asleep with a smile stuck on your face.
***
It was five days after the phone call that you decided to meet up, he was supposed to pick you up at five to invite you to dinner at his place, at his place! You were elated and had been trying to pick out something to wear for the last hour. What was the meaning for this date? Get to know each other? You had been talking at your pub for months. Sure, you didn’t know who he was alone, between the four walls he called home. But you could say that you knew who he was quite well when he was out. But five different dresses, two pairs of jeans and a skirt later you decided for something casual. A dress would be fine, it was quite sexuall in you should be honest but you felt yourself tonight. It was him, you had seen him drunk more times that when you had seen him sober at this time.
Five past five you got a text messenger that told you that he was outside, waiting. Putting on a jacket and your shoes, you made your way outside. His sports car stuck out along the sidewalk, making you feel small and out of place. He was rich, you knew that, but did he have to flex it on you?
You open the car door and slink into the soft seat. It was an amazing car, the outline of it made it easy to look at and the inside was screamingly expensive.
“Hi, you look beautiful tonight,” he said quietly. It made you feel better that he acted as nervous as you felt.
“Thank you,” you gave him a smile as he put a hand on your bare thigh. As a reflex you put your hand on his. Everything felt so natural, like the two of you had done this thousands of times before.
“I’m going to say this now so you are aware. But I got a spare room! But I promised you drinks and I’ve been to the shop just now, and I’m going to drink as well so I won’t be able to drive you home later.” You appreciated his honesty. But if you should be honest, you had been secretly wishing for a night at his place.
“I’m fine about that. Kind of had it coming when you talked about alcohol involved.” You watched the city move past the windows off the car as he drove you two, music on low volym and his hand still on you. Your chest is warm with so many feelings that you couldn’t name.
The car ride wasn’t long, the both of you had made smalltalk about the previous race weekend and his result. How he felt about it and what he expected for the next one. It was easy, almost too easy, you couldn't shake it off how everything felt so right.
“So, this is me.” He had said when you later had parked the car and made your way up to his apartment. He opened the door and the first thing you noticed was the view. It was a beautiful city you lived in and his apartment had the best view. The sun was setting and the pink and orange colors colored the white walls with a livingness you otherwise only saw in your dreams.
“It’s beautiful,” you say when you could tear your eyes away from the view to look around his home. It wasn’t big but it was really cossy. The kitchen was neat and the living room was framing the big windows that caught the beautiful city outside.
“Thanks, I thought about making you dinner first, don’t want you to get alcohol poisoning from my amazing drinks,” he said as he was on his way to the kitchen.
“Oh, please. I don’t think it’s something positive to kill someone on the first date you know?” He flashed you a challenging smile.
“If you say so.” The two of you started the dinner he had preplanned. You prepared the potatoes as he got the meat ready. Set the table and lit candles. It was melting your heart to get to do all this with him. To set the atmosphere together.
The food soon was placed on the table and you both enjoyed the meal. Talking about how both of your jobs went and what the plans were in twenty years, what you had for goals in life.
***
“Okay, I’ve been practicing. I’m not gonna lie.” He said as he started to take out a couple of bottles. “And because everyone likes Moscow Mule, I'm going to make one for you as a starter.” You nod in agreement as you watch him mix Smirnoff and Ginger beer.
A couple of minutes later he poured up two glasses, one each, and made his way over to the soffa where you had seated yourself with a pillow you found in your lap. You take the drink from him when he takes a seat next to you, an arm behind you on the backrest. You take a sip from the drink, trying it, seeing if it’s as good as the one you make daily.
“This is really good,” you say. And you can hear it in your own voice how the surprise came out.
“I said it before, I only go to your pub to get to see and talk to you, I usually make my own drinks if I feel like drinking.” He says and you feel how he lays his arm around you, it’s hesitated but he hugs your shoulder and you can’t help yourself as you lay your head against his shoulder. Taking another sip on your drink.
The candles now on the coffee table in front of you make it perfect. The two of you, a drink each and the small tune of some romance playlist he absolutely should have playing in the background. You had been arguing about the music before you started to cook the food, but now, he was right. It was an amazing playlist and fit the mood.
You finished your drink when you saw that he was already done with his. You had decided that you should be taking turns on mixing drinks. You gesticulated for his empty glass and made your way over to the table he had put all the bottles on.
“One or two?” You ask.
“Hmm, which one is the strongest?” He asks with a smile on his lips.
“They are quite equal in that, but I think you would love this one,” you said and started to blend the ingredients. You bring the finished drinks back and give him his glass back. Watching him take a sip, trying it out.
“Oh, my God. This is amazing.” He says and takes another sip. You laugh.
“That’s the name of it. Isn’t it amazing. The Oh, My God drink.” You laugh and take a sip of your own.
“It’s an amazing name for it.” He places his arm behind you again, playing with the ends of your hair. Drinking the drink and watching the candle dance in front of you.
His hand found his way into your hair, feeling how it stops and how he starts drawing circles behind your ear. How he gently turns your head so the two of you face each other. You get eye contact before you turn your gaze away, the nervousness starts to creep up on you. Your heart sped up and you can’t help but let your gaze linger on his lips. Wishing for the plump lips to be on yours. But what you didn’t know was that he was thinking the exact same thing. You could see how his lips came closer to your face as you let your eyes meet him. You can see the question in his eyes, licking his lips. And without overthinking about it, you press your lips to his, placing your drink on the table and then place your hand in his hair. Oh, what you had fantasised to drag your fingers through his hair.
He had placed his own glass at the table and soon had his hands on your hips, guiding your leg over his so you straddle his hips. Deepening the kiss as you feel his hands roaming your body as he tries to remember every inch of every curve that makes your body yours. You both high on each other, his hands not still on one place longer than a second and your hands in his hair, trying to get a grip on the situation. You feel how his tongue tries to get past your lips, and with no resistance at all, you part your lips. Both your tongues fight for dominance as you continue. But soon the air in your lungs ends and you need to break the kiss.
“If we continue this, I’m not sure I can end it.” He says breathlessly. His face is buried in your neck and you feel how he leaves kisses from your ear down to your collarbone.
“I don’t know if I want you to stop,” you let out a moan as he placed a kiss behind your ear on your sweet spot.
“You sure?” He asks, leaning back to look into your eyes. You meet his eyes and for a second you only sit like that. Letting the situation sink in, you in his lap, his kiss swollen lips and a desire for the both of you ecually strong for each other. You let your eyes close as you lean into his touch, breathing in his scent and feeling how he guides you to a new kiss.
--
“Then let's take this to the bedroom instead.” He grabs your lover back with one hand and carefully stands up by pushing himself up with the other hand. You lock your legs around his hips as his free hand finds its place under your bum, squeeze it as he connects your lips once again.
He guided the both of you to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss more than to breathe. He stops walking and you break the kiss to ask why he stops, but the only thing that leaves your lips is a small surprise sound as he drops you onto a soft fabrik, the bed.
“I’ve been thinking about this for so long, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says and buries his head in the crock of your neck, leaving kisses downwards.
“So have I, and I hope all your rumors are more than talk.” He looks into your eyes before pushing your dress up, letting his hands explore your naked legs, but his eyes never leave yours.
“Oh, baby, you have no idea what I can do to you,” and you hadn't, the evening had ended with the both of you, high of the orgasm and a new feeling he had named that day in your pub when he had first told you about his feelings. He was the love of your life as well. And you hoped that your story had only started.
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen one shot#daniel ricciardo#pierre gasly#charles leclerc#reader x driver#racing car driver
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𝐳𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞
₊° - 𝐳𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
₊° - 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: y/n isn't too keen on letting zoya go on her journey through the fold and arrives at the encampment late at night to ease her worries.
please do not copy, republish, translate or reproduce this imagine on wattpad or on other platforms. respect the author's work <3
when word got round in the little palace that a spot for a grisha healer in the second army opened up for the supply run through the fold, y/n wasted no time and offered to go. they had applauded her for her willingness and bravery, but all y/n could think about was seeing that one gorgeous sqauller again, who quite literally blew her away the moment they first met.
zoya nazyalensky's striking blue eyes had captivated y/n the moment they locked with hers and hadn't it been for the squaller looking away, y/n was sure she'd still be lost in them. y/n deemed zoya to be one of the prettiest girls in os olta and the little palace combined, but her beauty was not the only thing about her that had made y/n unable to get the girl out of her head.
zoya was a squaller, a grisha able to manipulate the wind and air, but zoya also possessed a big fire in her belly, one that was almost always quite present. it helped her to the top, but was also one of the qualities that had a tendency to make her intimidating or feared. y/n however, looked right through it and never stepped back whenever zoya would raise her voice or squint her eyes just long enough for other grisha to leave her alone. and exactly that had caught zoya's attention.
training was going terrible, the new squallers seemed to lack the confidence and passion that was needed for combat training. botkin had been so frustrated that he let some of the older grisha take the task and train them. y/n had watched from the sides as zoya visibly grew more annoyed at the youngsters and bit her lip when that same frustration finally caught up with her,
"enough! come back when you're worthy of wearing that kefta or don't show your face again!" she sent a large gush of air their way, making everyone's kefta's blow up in the wind before she turned around, letting out a quick breath through her nose.
y/n approached, a tiny smirk on her face. she'd waited to the sides to see how long it would take to crack the girl's patience. zoya wasn't a quitter, but her tough love seemed to worsen the children's performances even more.
zoya felt a presence behind her and turned around with a sneer as she sent another wave of wind behind her.
"i said-"
y/n was sent against the wall before she landed on the earth with a thud.
zoya tried to hide her initial surprise and gave the girl a once over, tilted her chin and crossed her arms, "what do you want?" she wasn't in the mood to apologize and kept her arms crossed, not even bothering to help the girl up.
y/n dusted her kefta off and tried to delay her reply, which she knew was frustrating zoya even more. y/n finally looked up, a cheeky smile on her face as she spoke,
"you could be sent away for that... we aren't allowed to use our powers here, did you forget?"
"look around- do you see anyone here?"
zoya was right- most boys and girls had silently left the training facility after zoya's outburst and botkin was probably downing a glass of kvas to drink away his frustrations of the day.
"because you scared them all away."
zoya put her nose up in disdain and turned back around- she didn't have time for this cocky know-it-all girl. she rolled her eyes as y/n followed her around the courtyard, getting slightly annoyed,
"i'm not sure if you have it in you, but maybe next time try and ease up on the tough love? be kind for a chance?"
"it's not what works best. do you think they'll be coddled when they're part of the second army? you healers are too sensitive. you should consider changing that or this world is going to eat you up."
"too sensitive?" y/n tried to hide the hurt in her voice and shook it off, "you don't know the injuries i've had to heal, the pain and gore i've seen. you should consider changing your mind on healers. without us, we'd be off way worse."
zoya had been annoyed at y/n's challenging rebuttal at first, but would later realise it wasn't out of lack of respect that y/n didn't seem to falter under her hard glares, it was because of the intrigue and adoration she held for her. if she backed down like all the others, she would never get a chance to break down zoya's walls.
eyerolls out of annoyance faded into playful eyerolls and zoya quickly realised that y/n would be one of those people her superiors had told her about all those years ago when she was first brought to the little palace. in order to not succumb to the stress of being a grisha, let alone one in the second army, one needs companions. companions you trust to have your back, companions to share your worries with and companions to help you see the light in difficult situations, even in the dark of the fold. and a loyal companion y/n became.
zoya was less hostile to the healer than she was to anyone else and people soon caught on. to not lose her air of intimidation, she tried to keep her soft smiles to a minimum and playfully pestered y/n whenever she could- even though no one but the two knew it was playful- only to get a joking sneer back in return, which never failed to crack the tiniest grin on the squaller's face.
"why do you look ready to leave?" y/n suddenly appeared in the doorway of zoya's suite. "planning to run away?" she joked but her worries grew as zoya didn't reply.
zoya didn't look up and instead continued to prepare her bag. y/n noticed that she was wearing the good luck charm she'd given the girl to wear whenever she had to go on a difficult or risky mission. a silent promise to both, if you will, to make sure whatever would happen would turn out alright. y/n's smile faltered,
"where are they sending you off to?"
"kribirsk, i'm going to help sail the skiff for a supply run to ketterdam."
"you're going through the fold?!" y/n took haste steps into the room and stopped right behind zoya, "why haven't i heard about this?! when are you supposed to cross it?!"
zoya let out a sigh and looked up, her hands placed on her hips, "stop it. i'll be fine," she went back to folding her clothes, "you know it's not my first time."
"no, but every time might as well be your last!"
y/n pulled at zoya's arm to make her stop, the squaller immediately glared at her. she hated when y/n became worried, it always intensified the worries she was already feeling herself, even if she would never tell anyone.
"i'll be fine, i promise."
"what happens there isn't really up to you... besides, i just don't like sitting here and waiting in agony for a word from you telling me you survived."
zoya finally gave in, she couldn't hold up her front any longer as she looked into y/n's worried eyes. she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her forehead before her hands dropped to her neck. she grabbed the talisman and held it up, "this'll protect me."
"zoya, it's not some-"
"no. it will. you said it would. i trust you. now, will you trust me? i'll be back before you know it." zoya softly stroked y/n's cheek with the back of her finger, something she did when the girl needed reassurance and comfort. "i'll come back, y/n."
the two women stared at each other for a long time, exchanging silent promises. but y/n's sudden movement caught zoya off guard, and before she could realise the girl had softly planted her lips against her own, y/n had already retreated.
"write to me."
zoya nodded absentmindedly, her head still stuck in the moment before.
"-and you better come back in one piece, nazyalensky."
zoya nodded again, this time less distracted, and she pulled y/n back when the girl made a move to walk out before planting a soft kiss on the girl's cheek.
"i will. or else you'll just have to patch me up again."
but zoya's nerves proved to be more difficult to contain now that y/n wasn't around, even if the girl had a tendency to sometimes make them worse with her worries. she knew she had promised to write, but what was she going to write down? how scared she really was? what would that do to calm y/n's nerves- both their nerves? not to mention that the confident squaller had felt insecure ever since their tiny kiss. was she supposed to write a different letter? was y/n expecting her to? or were they still just friends? or would it only upset y/n if she wrote to her like friends would?
so, zoya thought it was best to just not write at all, to spare both their feelings. but y/n, who had been waiting for a letter in the little palace, had gone mad after a few days. she hadn't received a letter noting zoya's arrival, neither had zoya written her one to tell her when the journey to west-ravka would take place. she felt awfully left in the dark, even if she knew the second army had arrived at the encampment through a general at the palace, she needed to hear it from zoya. or had she scared the squaller off? was the girl regretting their moment? had she lost zoya completely now, even as a friend? she needed to know.
the only worries she felt when the horses pulled the carriage over the roads to the encampment, were the worries about zoya, not about the voyage she was going to have to take through the darkness. after all, she'd have zoya by her side, who would undoubtedly try to protect her if needed, who could calm her down with just a look her way, just like how y/n would be there to heal and support if the situation asked for it.
y/n was assigned a tent with the other corporalki, but could care less about settling in for a good night's sleep. she needed to find zoya's tent first. she needed to see her at least once before setting foot on the ship the next morning.
the torches lit up the campsite and created eerie shadows on the surrounding tents, sometimes even forming into a shadow that looked way too similar to the volcra whose screams and cries filled the air now and then. y/n shook it off and walked along.
she finally heard zoya's familiar soft voice behind a tent's fabric to her left and a guy clad in the clothes of a tracker walked out a few seconds later. it slightly confused y/n, but she walked to the entrance of the now pitch black tent nonetheless.
"zoya?" she whispered out softly, still a bit unsure if she'd actually been right about hearing the girl's voice. what if this was someone else's tent?
"anyone here?" she called again, her eyes now slightly adjusting to the lack of light. a shadow moved to her left before she fell to her knees as all the air in her lungs disappeared. someone had her in a headlock.
"zoya! it's me! it's me, y/n!" she coughed and heaved, clawing at her throat for air. she heard the squaller gasp as fresh air filled her lungs once again. a candle was lit a second after, which barely illuminated the tent, but enough for zoya to see her friend on the floor.
"what are you doing here?!" she hissed, her panic replaced by anger almost instantly, anger that stemmed out of worry for the girl. y/n being there could only mean one thing...
"i had to see you." y/n accepted the help of zoya and was put to sit on the girl's bed. "you promised you'd write... why didn't you?"
zoya ignored the question and fired a question of her own the healer's way, "why are you here? i doubt they let you go without a reason."
y/n refused to make eye contact, but zoya refused to give in and forcefully grabbed the girl's chin. y/n expected to see the squaller's eyebrows knitted together in anger or worry, or both, and a sneer on her face, but was instead met with a look she couldn't quite place, one she barely ever saw. if y/n wanted an answer, she would have to answer zoya first.
"they needed a healer."
"on the supply run?"
y/n nodded meekly but kept looking at zoya's features, trying to decipher what she was thinking.
"y/n, you shouldn't have... not after-"
"i know. i know i had to watch my friends get torn apart last time, while i sat there and couldn't help all of them at once, i know- but zoya- if something were to happen to you and i wouldn't be able to at least try and help you out, i would never be able to let it go."
zoya's grasp on y/n's chin loosened until she finally let go and dropped her hands on her lap. but they didn't feel right there so she immediately grabbed onto one of y/n's, giving it a light squeeze.
"you didn't write to me. that usually means you're either worried and don't want to worry me or... well... after, you know... i thought you might've..."
zoya squeezed again, telling the girl she didn't need to talk further, she knew exactly what she meant.
"i know something has shifted between us, but i don't regret it. that wasn't why i didn't write...well, it was." she continued when y/n rose an eyebrow in confusion, "i was afraid you might've regretted it."
"no, i-"
"it doesn't matter, you shouldn't have come." zoya's walls were back up again in a snap of her fingers and she let go and sat up, immediately shielding herself from whatever rejection about to come her way.
"zoya-"
"it's probably best if we both get some rest."
y/n looked to see if zoya was slightly joking but pursed her lips together when she saw the girl's blank face.
"fine." the healer jumped up and stormed out of the tent, throwing the entrance drape shut so harshly that the tiny candle went out, which left zoya by herself in the dark of the night. at least it would let her get used to the dark that was waiting for her on the end of the encampment.
y/n buttoned and unbuttoned her crimson kefta multiple times, a nervous habit of hers, but kept them buttoned when the horn indicated it was time to go. had it been worth it? offering to cross the fold just to talk to zoya? only for her to get the cold shoulder? no. but at least now she was able to protect the girl.
she walked onto the sandskiff along with other grisha and, this time, cartographers, and immediately locked eyes with zoya, who was already stationed at the front. zoya looked regal, standing there, with her chin held high and her hands behind her back, almost as if she owned the sandskiff. to others, she might've looked cocky, but not to y/n.
zoya's eyes inspected everyone who walked onto the ship and thus also landed on y/n's. but, while she'd lightly glared at everyone, her glare softened when she looked at her friend. she dipped her head in acknowledgement. what y/n didn't know, was that while zoya had tried her best to pretend that y/n wouldn't be going on the supply run, seeing her step onto the skiff had broken that fairytale thought and had made her slightly break out an uneasy sweat. y/n's talisman was hidden under her kefta, but zoya could still feel it pressing against her chest. it calmed her down a little, but not enough, certainly not when the ship started moving and y/n was not on the docks staying behind.
screeches and yells of those terrible beasts were the first things to welcome them into the fold before the clear morning sky finally turned black and the air turned cold. the volcra sounded distant though, so as long as they kept quiet and in the dark, there wouldn't be a reason to panic.
zoya glanced y/n's way every now and then. even if there still wasn't trouble in the air, she just needed to reassure herself that the girl was okay. same for y/n- she kept glancing to the front of the skiff to see zoya's eyes illuminate in the blue of the tiny lantern. zoya's eyes never failed to calm her down, but looking into them now brought her even greater comfort. or discomfort...if she thought long enough about what happened last time she crossed the fold.
the wind howled, the wooden skiff creaked and thunder filled the sky. the occasional lightning lit up their surroundings and showed the shipwrecks from previous supply runs, a great reminder to everyone on board that they should count themselves lucky if they survived this crossing.
"marker one...."
"how many more are there?" a cartographer girl dared to ask and y/n closed her eyes, knowing the answer wouldn't satisfy her.
"thirty-seven."
y/n's hands clasped around the sleeves of her kefta as she hugged herself. only twelve more markers and she'd reach the place where it all happened last time.
barely one marker later and the growling and screeching sounds of the approaching volcra made everyone tense up. one volcra made a close appearance, which made everyone either duck or ready their guns. it was eerily silent after that. y/n tried not to look at the frightened faces of everyone else and instead tried to count, but that proved to make her even more nervous after another volcra screeched nearby- they weren't going fast enough.
zoya felt suffocated when the blue lantern, which was meant to be their little safe haven during their crossing, dimmed. however, the real panic set in when it became pitch black and she lost all sight of y/n. the deck suddenly lit up by the orange hue of a lantern one cartographer boy had set alight in panic, which illuminated y/n's pretty face with an orange tint, but zoya was anything but relieved. this wasn't a good thing. at all.
"blow it out! what are you doing?!"
all hell broke loose when the lantern attracted volcra, who were now surrounding the sandskiff, flying over it to wait for the perfect opportunity to catch their prey. if that wasn't bad enough, the lantern had fallen over and a small fire was starting to eat away at the wooden deck, making it even harder for everyone on board to hide. people were being picked up by the creatures and all y/n seemed to be able to do was freeze. last time she'd been running from left to right to try and help aid the people on board, but even when she had prepared herself for this outcome this time, no muscle in her body seemed to want to move. she didn't know what hurt her ears more- the gunshots, the screeching of those terrible monsters or the agonizing yells from the people on deck. one thing stood out through those yells- a pained yelp coming from no other than zoya made her head shoot up to where she thought she'd heard it.
zoya had watched y/n tense up from her side of the ship and was well aware that past memories were probably troubling her mind, making her unable to get to work. all worries or insecurities were thrown out the window once she realised she needed to keep y/n safe. a volcra had dived to pick her up right as she made a move to run to the healer, but a shove from one of the other grisha had saved her life. her shoulder broke the fall and one of her hands met the flames, making her cry out in pain.
this did the trick and burst the healer's bubble. y/n crawled across the deck, trying to stay as low as possible, and gritted her teeth whenever she came too close to the fire and the heat became painful. zoya noticed her approach and tried to move closer too, only to grasp her shoulder in pain.
"ssssh, i'm here, i'm here, let me-" y/n stammered in a panic as she looked at the damage. she gently stroke her fingers over zoya's burns first. zoya threw her head back at the initial pain and incredibly annoying itch that followed, but let out a shaky chuckle out of relief when the pain subdued before eventually fading away.
they weren't out of danger yet and the volcra hovering above them proved exactly why. zoya's eyes widened as she watched it approach over y/n's shoulder and she pulled the girl on top of her in a tight embrace. the movement made her grit her teeth in pain, her shoulder still hurt like hell, but at least the volcra had missed this chance. she saw it circle around, waiting to pounce once more. she reached for the gun beside her when it turned around, ready for another try. but zoya didn't give it one and directed a shot at its chest, which caught the beast off guard and gave the perfect opportunity to one of the escorts on the ship to finish him off with another shot.
"are you alri-"
"go! get inside!" zoya gently pushed the girl off of her again.
"you're hurt, let me-"
"i need to help send this skiff back. go!"
"it'll only be-"
"we don't have time! i can handle a broken shoulder but i will never forgive myself if something happened to you!" zoya yelled back over the chaos and was supported by another squaller who pulled her to the other side of the deck. y/n sat there, baffled. a harsh force of wind made y/n's hair blow up and the ship started to move again. a young man, one of their escorts, ran up to her, pulled her on her feet and guided her inside.
there she sat, waiting, while a mix of screams, screeches, thunder and gunshots made for a horrifying mix of sounds, while she couldn't do a thing, while zoya was bait up there...
a light so bright beamed through the cracks and holes of the wood and even from her cover, y/n had to shield her eyes.
silence. complete, utter silence. no more volcra, no more shouting or gunshots needed. the wind that the squallers created to send them back home was a comforting sound to y/n's ears and it was all she wanted to focus on as she knew they were going back.
the darkness soon turned to light again. the sky had changed back and was filled with puffy clouds as the air grew more pleasant to inhale. they were back, they were safe. but still, y/n kept seated, not wanting to go out and see the damage. not again.
yes, the sandskiff had returned home, which meant that squallers had sent it back, but zoya had been out there for a while even before the light. going out there meant there was a possibility she was going to receive the news that zoya hadn't made it.
"i need a healer here! quick!"
y/n wiped her teary eyes that were still burning from the smoke, pushed the stray hairs out of her face and stood up. she was not going to let people suffer just because she was afraid of facing her fears. she let herself fall onto her knees next to a cartographer girl whose leg still sizzled from a terrible burn. she seemed pretty out of it- her head lulled as a cold sweat coated her face.
"hey, you're going to be alright. i'm y/n, i'm a healer." she tried to reassure her, even if she was unsure if the girl could even hear her at this point, "i'm going to have to touch it, but it's going to get better after that. i promise. try to sit as still as you can so it won't scar." she went to work and saw the girl's eyes flutter open. "see?" the girl nodded and sent a tired smile her way. that was enough of a thank you for y/n and she immediately stood up to try and see where she was needed next.
zoya had climbed her way down as soon as she could and panic filled her when she couldn't find y/n anywhere. this was where she'd seen the boy take her to?! but as she walked back, she saw the girl tending to a wounded man and a sigh of relief left her mouth. she watched y/n stand up,
"can you tend to my shoulder next?"
y/n's head whipped around at the familiar voice, and even if it sounded hoarse and tired, she could still hear a playful undertone.
"thank the saints! you're alright!" y/n went in for a hug but reminded herself of zoya's injured shoulder and squeezed the girl's hand instead.
"who else sent us back?" zoya smiled tiredly and let y/n pull her out off the chaos on the ship to be sat down on the docks. the healer helped her out of her kefta and zoya noticed y/n was trying to suppress a meek smile at the sight of the talisman that clung around zoya's neck.
zoya closed her eyes as y/n's soft hands made contact with her bare shoulder and she only dared to open them again once the pain was replaced by the familiar feeling of a healing itch. she grabbed the healer's hand and intertwined their fingers.
"are you still hurting?"
zoya let out a breathy chuckle and shook her head, "no, i believe i'm fine now. just a bit shaken."
y/n nodded and stared off into the distance, she knew exactly what zoya meant. a soft tug on her hand made her look back at the blue eyed girl.
"i'm sorry."
"zoya nazyalensky saying sorry? that's a first."
"hush you, i'm serious. don't make me regret this." zoya rolled her eyes, glad to have this y/n back. for a second, back in the fold, when she saw y/n so tensed up as she was reliving her trauma, zoya was afraid she might never get her back, if they were to even get out of the fold alive. but here she was, holding the girl's hand and staring into her eyes. she was here. with her.
"it was wrong of me to downplay your worries when i knew where they stemmed from. you've had to go through that, see that happen... and it was only fair of you to fear my departure. i should've written to you and-"
"zoya, it's quite-"
"let me finish." a light squeeze in her hand and a somewhat serious glare from zoya made y/n shut up, "i also shouldn't have treated you like i did last night. but can you try to imagine the worry i felt when i realised you were going to do the crossing? if something happened to you, that would've been because of me. you were on that ship because i was there, because i didn't write back."
"i would've taken the offer even if you had written to me, to be quite honest..."
zoya rolled her eyes, "of course you would've."
"zoya, when will you understand that i'll always try to have your back?
"but why must you put yourself in harm's way to do so?"
"because that's just how it goes!" y/n squeezed zoya's hand this time, trying to get her message across. "we're companions remember?"
zoya smiled softly and put a strand of hair behind y/n's ear before she wiped away the dirt on the girl's temple. her fingers then travelled down the girl's cheek and jaw before resting there, "i think we're more than companions, don't you think?" her striking blue eyes then looked directly into y/n's, immediately captivating the girl like she was some siren trying to lure her into the pools of her eyes.
"are we?" y/n's voice was small.
"have you forgotten about kissing me already? should you need a reminder?"
"no- i haven't, i remember!" her cheeks turned scarlet as zoya tilted her head in a playful manner. oh gods, how stupid could she be. "i mean, i don't. a reminder would be nice?" the meekness of y/n's voice warmed zoya up and she stroked the girl's bottom lip with the pad of her thumb,
"you sure?"
y/n nodded, but that wasn't what would satisfy zoya.
"talk. use your voice."
"yes, i'm sure."
zoya lifted her chin and looked at her in a way only she could, but it wasn't disrespectful at all. she looked at y/n as if she was the only girl in the world, but even if she wasn't, she'd still pick her. she'd pick her as a friend, a companion, or whatever they were going to be next.
#zoya imagine#zoya x reader#zoya nazyalensky x reader#zoya nazyalensky imagine#zoya one shot#shadow and bone imagines#sab imagines#sab x reader#grishaverse imagines#s&b x reader#s&b imagines
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✾D.K- Movie Night☼✶
Master list
FEM!reader
Words: 3880
Warnings/kinks: thighs, thigh-job, oral
Pairing: Kaminari Denki x reader
Summary: You invite Denki over for a movie, but your thighs are distracting
===NSFW under the cut===
It wasn't like Denki's crush on you was a secret, in fact basically everyone knew; but still, it shouldn't've shocked you when Mina gave you screenshots of him practically confessing his love for you.
PinkyPie🌸👽🌷:
Y/n I'm dying here😖 He won't stop gushing about you
Y/n:
Wait is this real??
PinkyPie🌸👽🌷:
Duh!
Y/n:
I may or may not be blushing 😳
I like him too, but don't tell! I'll do it soon enough
PinkyPie🌸👽🌷:
I'm in need for some entertainment
Any ideas on how to fluster him? I want to see him all giddy and nervous lmao 🌸
You looked up from your bed to your paused movie and started to think. Hmm.. that could work.. but how..? Your cheeks flushed harder at the thought of making him nervous; he was just so cute!
Y/n:
I have the perfect plan. You know that textbook I lent you? Get Kami to return it to me
Once I send the signal
I need to prepare >:)
PinkyPie🌸👽🌷:
Omg the suspense!!
I can't wait!
You got all the confidence you needed when you read his messages to Mina. He liked you, and there was no denying it now. You gathered your snacks into bowls, and rearranged your fairy lights over your bed. Since you already were ready to watch a movie, you only had to make a few adjustments before setting the plan into motion.
You took a moment to change into something a little more revealing, but not at all suggestive. A T-shirt and shorts. You made sure they were shaved/groomed to your liking, and you did the same for your arms. A few candles were lit, and the light was dim.
==
"Kamiiii~~" Mina yelled from across the room.
"What?" Denki replied, half expecting a phone charger to be thrown at him.
"Can you pretty please give this book to y/n? I have to do something, and apparently she needs it," Mina flashed puppy eyes at him, and Denki grinned.
"An excuse to go to y/n's room?" He buzzed. "I'd go even if you needed me to return a bread crumb!"
"Aw thanks Denki-kun!" She smiled, passing him the hefty book.
Denki practically skipped to your dorm in excitement. He hadn't been able to have a good look at what your room was like when the Best Room Contest was going on. Would it match your personality? Or completely clash? What colour were your walls? What did your bed look like?
His heart fluttered as he came closer to his destination. He nervously clicked the second floor button in the elevator, and urged the thing to move faster. C'mon! He didn't have time for this, he needed to see you!
The elevator's ding rattled in his head as he rushed out of it, speed walking down the hall. Y/n, y/n... y/n! Here we are.
Denki took a deep breath, smoothing out his shirt and shaking out his arms. Here we go. He raised his fist and gently knocked on your door. He heard your feet shuffle to the door, and he felt light headed. You would be in your lounging clothes, no uniform.
"Oh hey Kami!" You greeted with a smile, "what brings you here?"
"U-uh," he stuttered. If it weren't for the shorts peaking under your oversized T-shirt, he would've thought you had nothing else on, "Mina said you needed this."
"Thanks!" You replied, gingerly taking the book from his hands. "It's the perfect height."
"..perfect height?" Denki asked, peeking into your room as you walked back to your bed.
"Yep! It's a great laptop stand," you grinned, placing it under the device, "I was just about to watch a movie, care to join?"
Denki froze, mouth half agape. A movie? With you? Alone? In your room? He felt like he was dreaming.
"Well?" You inquired.
"Y-yes!" Denki almost screamed, "I just gotta- I'm gonna grab a fluffy blanket!"
"Ok!" You giggled as he left your room in a hurry.
Denki didn't waste time on the elevator, and ran down the stairs two steps at a time. He crossed the common area in a hurry, causing several people to question him.
"Fluffy blanket!" Was all he replied before he barged into his room and grabbed what he was looking for. He also grabbed his phone so he could update his friends on his current situation.
Denki⚡️:
Holy fuck it's happening
Tape man:
Did you finally ask her out
Denki⚡️:
Nope
She invited me in her room to watch a movie
Tape man:
We all know how that turns out ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Kiri☄️:
Good luck, man!
I was wondering why you needed a blanket lol
Denki put his phone in his pocket, and rushed back to the common area with his fluffy yellow blanket him his arms.
"What's with the pillow?" Mina giggled.
"Blanket!" Denki corrected. "Y/n invited me to watch a movie in her room and the panic hasn't quite set in yet."
He heard laughing as he ran for the elevator, too tuckered out to take the stairs again. His stomach jolted in excitement as the elevator lifted him upwards. Oh fuck this was actually happening. Denki rushed down the hall to your door, and knocked.
"Come in!" Your muffled voice said.
You took in Denki's appearance as he walked into your room. Even with the lights dimmed, you could see his flushed cheeks. In his arms was a blanket, one you assumed he was hoping to share with you.
"C'mon!" You said, patting the spot beside you.
"O-on your bed?" Kaminari questioned.
"Where else?" You giggled. Denki looked extremely nervous as he sat down, some centimetres away from you. "You can come closer y'know."
"O-ok," Denki stuttered, inching towards you, "so, what are we watching?"
"I'm not sure actually. I was hoping maybe an anime or something," you replied, clicking through all the suggestions on Netflix.
God, please marry me. Denki thought, eyeing your thighs as you said that. They looked so kissable... grab-able... suffocating his face-able...
"This one?" You asked him, pointing to a movie.
"S-sure," Kaminari replied, only half aware of what you were saying. His eyes were glued on your thighs, and you could see his fingers twitching to touch them.
"So are you gonna share that big-ass blanket or not?" You said, tugging at the yellow fabric that was in his lap.
"Y-yeAh," Denki cracked, uncrumpling the blanket, and handing you a corner.
You made sure to slide your fingers over his as you took the side from his hands. You watched as his Adams apple bobbed nervously. You slid the fluffy fabric over your shoulders and scooted closer to Kami.
"I have snacks," you said, pulling over a few bowls of chips and whatever else. You placed the popcorn between the two of you for easier access.
To be honest, Denki wasn't paying attention to the movie in the slightest, all he was doing was thinking about you; how close you were to him. How he was sharing a blanket with you. How your hands touched his occasionally when he grabbed popcorn. His mind was spinning, and he couldn't tell if it was excitement or nerves, (probably both).
Denki looked down at the bowl when he noticed no more popcorn was left. He silently took the bowl off the bed and onto the floor. His heart rate thumped unevenly as he realized that there was no border between you and him. He scooted over a tiny bit, hoping you would do the same.
Your hand reached for another handful of popcorn, but instead got a handful of Kaminari's thigh.
"Ah~" Kami groaned. He slapped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment.
"Oh I'm so sorry!" You panicked, pretending not to notice the delicious noise that came out of his mouth. "Popcorn all gone?"
"Y-yeah," Kaminari stuttered, "I j-just put it on the floor if that's alright, heh."
"Yeah that's fine," you replied, going back to the movie.
If Denki wasn't flushed red already, he certainly was now. His whole body felt hot, and where you grasped his thigh was scorching. He gulped as he strained to keep his composure... but he failed to do so as you leaned against him, shoulders touching. His hopes to stay at least semi-hard crashed, his dick starting to twitch to life. He shoved the hand furthest from you in his sweatpants pocket, and adjusted himself. What would you think of him if you found out he had a hard-on just from you touching him? He didn't want to find out. He pushed sinful thoughts to the back of his head, urging himself to focus on the movie. He needed to go soft, and quick.
That plan also failed, because for some reason he chose a coming of age movie. Honestly, he didn't really even remember picking a movie; that wasn't what he was here for. A heated make-out session was plastered on the laptop screen, and his breath hitched as he realized the actress looked similar to you. Same h/l, h/c hair, same skin colour, same body type... god he felt like he was loosing it. The various differences between you and the actor kept him sane; different nose, different skin type... it reassured him that, no, you weren't making out with some dude, and you were right here beside him.
"The actress looks a lot like you," Kaminari said from out of the blue.
"..and you chose exactly now to tell me that? While their making out?" You laughed, nudging him with your elbow.
"Uh, well. It took me awhile to figure out why she was so familiar," Kaminari blushed. You saw his hands fist the fabric of his pants, his knuckles almost white.
"Kami-kun.. you ok?" You asked, reaching over for his hand. "You seem stressed, is the movie making you uncomfortable?"
"Ah- n-no, it's not that... I-it's, well," Denki struggled to form words, "it's just awkward watching this with you so close."
"It's not like it's porn," you shrugged, and Kami's breath hitched. "But damn, there sure is a lot of nudity..."
"Uh- I didn't know that would, uh, I didn't really look at the description of the movie, heh heh," Kaminari said nervously.
"It's whatever. It's a great show besides that," you popped a candy into your mouth.
Your hand was still on his as you continued to watch the movie. Denki's vision was fuzzy with nervousness, and he wondered if he should pull his hand away. No, he decided. He liked how comforting it felt, even though he was currently rock-hard and raving to go. Denki's head moved the slightest bit towards you, trying to catch a glance of your beautiful face. He almost screamed when he noticed that the side of you thigh was pressed against his.
Hot. Oh god, he felt so hot all over.
You had to stifle a smile as you heard Kaminari continuously whimper; it was so quiet you had to strain to hear. Was he even aware he was doing that? You almost didn't notice the credits rolling on the screen, too caught up in giddy excitement. You unwrapped a lollipop and put it in your mouth, hands reaching for the laptop.
"Hah~" Kaminari whispered behind you. Oh yeah, you thought, your shorts were basically boy-short panties.
"That was fun!" You cheered, closing the device and picking up candy wrappers.
"Y-yeah," Kami gulped, afraid to get up. He folded his fluffy blanket, and carefully held it in front of his crotch, trying not to grind against it.
"Well, you can stay for the night if you want. I don't know about you, but I'm pooped," you said, stretching your arms up, exposing your thighs.
"Oh my god I want to fuck your thighs so bad," Denki said dreamily, and then immediately smacked a hand over his mouth.
His eyes were wide with horror, and he would have collapsed if he wasn't sitting down. Your face looked shocked as you processed what he said. Oh shit, he wanted to perish. Vanish from the earth and never be seen again.
"I-I, Wow, I can't believe I said that out loud. Please excuse me while I go die of embarrassment," Denki said as calmly as he could muster, quickly standing up and walking awkwardly towards your door.
"Wait, Kami," you said, grabbing his wrist as he reached for the doorknob.
Yup. This is it. This is where he dies. This is where you fucking murder him in cold blood, right here, right now.
"At least give me a kiss before you leave," you said, looking at him with pleading eyes. The stick on your lollipop had fallen off of the candy, and the sweet treat was still in your mouth.
"Y-you're serious?!" Kaminari sputtered, dropping his blanket in surprise.
"Mmhm," you mumbled, pulling him a little closer to you. His erection was painfully obvious, but he didn't seem to care.
Kaminari reached for your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. They were a little sweaty, but that didn't bother you. The look in his eyes was remarkable, and you felt courage flow through you. Your soft lips met his, and you exchanged a few kisses before you deepened it. You slipped your tongue across his lip, and he eagerly opened up.
Denki moaned at the sweetness of your tongue, sucking on it to get all of the flavour. He squeaked as he felt something weird enter his mouth. Oh. Oh. That was the piece of candy you were sucking on. Holy fuck. Denki groaned deeply, swishing the sweet in his mouth before giving it back to you.
You pulled away, saliva covering your lips. You heave for breath and gleamed at Kaminari, "that was hot."
"Hhngg," was the only response you heard from him.
"You ok, Kami?" You asked, giving his wrist a slight squeeze.
"Fuck yeah," he moaned. "M' just trying not to cum my pants right now."
"How about I take these shorts off so you can come between my thighs," you teased, already shimming out of your short-shorts.
"EH?!" Denki roared, and you saw his hair buzz with electricity.
"Just don't electrocute me, Buzzy," you said, stepping a few inches away, playfully throwing in the nickname.
You bit your cheek as Kami started to play with the strings on his pants, "actually? Like, really?!"
"Stop saying stupid shit and come here," you grabbed his forearm, pulling him closer to you. "Let's get these sweatpants off, shall we?"
You slowly pulled at the strings, leaving sensual touches to his pelvis. Denki looked as though he had just entered heaven, his eyes were shining dreamily, and a dumb smile was plastered on his face. His pants fell to the ground, and you snorted at his lighting bolt patterned briefs. You ghosted a hand over his length, and Denki shivered in anticipation.
"Can I- please?" Kaminari struggled, his hands slowly reaching over to you.
"Of course, baby," you murmured, lifting your T-shirt over your head, leaving you in just your undergarments.
As soon as the magic words left your lips, he was all over you. It was like he had to touch every inch of you. You loved the way he firmly gripped your hips, and the way he kissed you. It felt just right. Denki nervously pulled off his underwear, now only in a shirt. You didn't hesitate to gently grip his cock, relishing the whimper he made. You stroked him a few times before reaching over to your dresser, pumping a little lotion on your palm.
You looked at Denki as you rubbed the lotion on the inside of your thighs, you grabbed another dollop and rubbed that in as well. You ended up pushing him against a wall, your hands on his chest, and lips on his. You dropped one of your hands down to Denki's twitching cock, and swiftly inserted it between your thighs, directly under your vulva. You moaned with him as he took ahold of your hips and pulled you closer to him, jerking out his hips in the process.
"Fuck. Holy fuck, t-thank you so much y/n!" Denki cried, leaning his head back. He stuck out his hips, and helped you grind against him.
"So, how long have you been wanting to do this for?" You inquired, nibbling at his earlobe.
"Ah~ so goddamn long," Denki murmured.
The feeling of his dick pressed firmly under your heat sent waves of pleasure up your body, and you took one hand off the wall to cup your breast. You sighed and looked at Kaminari, his face was flushed, and you were sure the blush travelled down to his chest.
"Hah~~" Denki moaned, "I'm so close. Pl-ease."
The way your thighs clamped around his dick made his head spin, it was so much better than he ever imagined it would be. Your panties were wet against his cock, and he groaned deeply at the fact that holy shit this was actually happening. Denki would smell your arousal, (something he didn't really expect to have a strong smell), and he got dizzy all over again.
"'Please'?" You questioned, giving small sucks to his jaw.
"Can I come? I-I just don't want to finish between your legs and then you freak out, that would be bad. A-and I wasn't sure if—" Denki got cut off with a kiss.
"Go ahead, baby. Go on and come undone for me," you whispered in his ear.
Denki let out a strangled groan, mumbling out 'fuck' and 'you're so perfect'. His hold on you gripped harder, leading you back and forth on his cock. Your pride swelled as you felt a wet, sticky substance run down the back of your thighs. Denki shuttered once he was finished, and whined when he gently pushed you off.
"Fuck, so good," Denki said in a daze, his eyes practically glazed over.
You reached between your legs, scooping up some of his semen with your fingers. You brought them to your mouth, and sucked on them, making sure to clean off all of the salty substance
"Oh my god," Denki muttered as he watched you. He was getting hard again.
"Clean up for me?" You said, spreading your legs and bending over a little bit, exposing your cum-covered thighs. You didn't hear a response, and you worried that you'd maybe gone too far.
Denki was drooling at the wonderful sight, and got on his knees. His hands ran up and down your legs before he took an experimental lick. It wasn't the worst, but still unfavourable. Right now, he didn't care what it tasted like. Because he was licking your thighs and the bottom of your ass, and that's all that mattered right now. Denki took care to graze his teeth on your skin every so often, eliciting a sweet moan from you.
"All done," he mumbled into your leg, giving it one more kiss before pulling away, still on his knees.
You turned around, and Denki's eyes nearly fell out of his head; you took off your bra, and your breasts were amazing. He was frozen, but let you strip off his T-shirt, too afraid that he would wake up in his bed, and this was all a dream.
"You look so good like that, Denki," you mused, admiring his disheveled hair and messy face. You glanced down and saw that he was hard again— classic Kami, "I'm so horny, baby. Touch me~"
Denki's shaky hands felt their way up your legs, and gripped onto your underwear's waistband. He looked up at you as he pulled them down to your ankles, careful to slip them off. They were covered in your slick, and it took him a whole lot of self-control to not lick them. He had the whole meal in front of him anyway. Denki curiously slid his fingers through your folds, breath catching at your sigh.
You turned so that your back was against the wall, and spread your legs enough so that Kaminari had full-view of your flower. His tongue stuck out, and drool practically dripped down his chin. He slowly crawled towards you, reaching his neck out so he could have a sweet taste of your goodness. You reached down and pulled at his hair, guiding him to where he was scared to go.
"This is really ok?" Denki said dreamily, his gaze hypnotized on your pussy.
"Yep, dig in, Buzzy," you said, biting your lip.
Kaminari lurched forward, hands clamped on your thighs, and stuck his face between your legs. You assumed he had little to no experience, so you guided him with your sweet voice, and pulling him off if he did something you didn't like.
"So good," Denki moaned on your pussy, drunk on your taste. He rubbed his tongue just right on your clit, and you groaned. He did it again, and began to nibble and suck on your sensitive pearl. Kaminari's cock was leaking pre-cum, but he refused to give himself attention. He was receiving so much pleasure by just making you feel good.
"Denki~" you moaned, gripping his hair harder and pulling him closer, grinding against his face.
"Mmfff-" Denki struggled, tingles travelling through his body. The way you said his name practically has him coming.
"So close- don't you dare stop!" Your back arched, and your eyes closed.
He didn't plan on that. He needed you to finish on his tongue, he was desperate for your pleasure. Denki felt your vulva twitch in his mouth, and he tried harder. You were so close. He needed you to feel good. You had made him feel so good just moments before.
"Right- there-!" You gasped, legs shaking through Denki's grip. He continued his pace, though struggling to breathe; he didn't care, he needed you to finish.
When the grip on Kaminari's scalp softened and fell away, he pulled back, choking for air, "oh my fuck you taste so good~"
"Thank you, Buzzy," you smiled at him. "You're the best."
The two of you admired each other for a moment, before Denki coughed awkwardly, "sorry about the floor."
You glanced down and noticed that Kaminari had managed to cum without the help of anything touching him. Classic Kami.
"Heh, that's kinda embarrassing," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I-I'll clean that up."
You watched Denki clean the floor as you cleaned yourself, using baby wipes on your legs to get rid of the cum remanence. You threw on your robe and told Kami you'd be a few minutes.
When you came back in, all cleaned up, Denki was sitting on your bed with his boxers on, "I was hoping that I-I could stay over?"
"Absolutely," you grinned, flopping on the bed. Denki wrapped his yellow blanket around your body, and you cuddled into him.
"So I'm assuming you like me back, then?" Denki mumbled into your neck.
"Mmhm," you sighed, "I have for awhile now."
"Damn. We could've been doing this earlier!"
"Oi, shut up and cuddle me. I'm all tuckered out."
#anime#bnha#mha#denki kaminari x reader#kaminari denki x reader#kaminari denki#denki kaminari#denki kaminari smut
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Long Distance Longing with the Brothers
Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷♀️
Warnings: Angst, implied starvation
Intro:
The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...
Lucifer
Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?
Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.
And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work.
He wanted a… "vacation."
Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.
Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…
His first vacation was sure to be paradise.
Mammon
Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…
Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.
Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?
It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.
Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?
He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.
He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.
The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….
But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...
Leviathan
He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…
Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.
Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…
For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...
After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…
The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.
When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.
To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...
In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.
Satan
Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.
Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…
But like that would stop him.
He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.
He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.
Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.
But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?
Asmodeus
If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.
He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!
This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...
When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…
The world is full of surprises, ain't it?
No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.
Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...
Beelzebub
Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...
So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.
It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.
A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.
Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...
Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.
His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.
Belphegor
Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.
Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.
It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...
There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged…
Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?
With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.
There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios
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Hobi drabble where he's your friend and you're out dancing and things get heated 😏
Pairing: Hobi x female reader
Genre: implied smut
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: none really
~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh come on!” Hobi begs with a wide smile on his face, he looks so cute trying to pull you up from the bar stool. “One dance! I swear it’ll be fun!” he promises.
“Hobi.” You groan, the roll of your eyes making him smile wider. “This isn’t fair. You’re literally like a pro dancer. You want to make a fool of me?” you gesture towards yourself and he laughs loudly.
“You aren’t that bad I swear.” Hobi winks at you and you swat his shoulder. “Come on.”
You, Hobi, Jimin and Jin decided on a night out, your friends always pressuring you into going to some club you could care less for. Jin sending you a million texts throughout the work day about how you need a break, how you need something to relax you.
But a club? Not exactly what you had in mind for an evening of relaxation. You look around the club and shudder with an unimpressed expression drawn on your face…it’s hot, people are drenched in sweat and you swear you have heard this same song come on for like a fourth time tonight.
“I’ll buy you a shot if you come.” Hobi decides to bribe you, “Two shots, actually.” He nods his head, loving his own idea.
“Two?” you murmur, kind of liking where this is going. “That and tomorrow you buy me lunch.” You decide to test your luck. Hobi raises he brows at you with a smirk playing at his lips.
“Oh?” His voice dips into some deeper, something raspy making you gulp. “Fine.” He says, brightening back up. “Lunch too. Now let’s get those shots!”
You and Hobi make your way to the bar and order your drinks, the liquor getting thrown back smoothly. You take another and another. You were already tipsy but the new added liquor in your body starts taking its effect.
You aren’t sure how much time has passed but you and Hobi are on the dance floor, dancing to some pop song. You guys jump around, laughing loudly and smiling at the other. You have to keep apologizing to the people around you because you keep drunkenly bumping into them, this makes Hobi laugh with his whole body.
“Why are you so stiff?” Hobi suddenly asks…”Your hips, I mean.” He points at your lower half and you turn rosy from embarrassment.
“Stiff?” you ask, feeling shy suddenly. “I don’t know.” You shrug.
“You need to loosen up.” Hobi advices like the good friend he is.
“How?” you laugh, “I’m already drunk.”
“You just need to….here….” Hobi walks closer to you, his cologne filling the air. “Can I touch you?” he asks cautiously.
“Huh?” you look up at him and you notice how his expression has gone serious.
“Jin is right. You need to relax.” His fingers go to your waist, “Your body is giving away how stressed you are.”
You can’t help but stumble forward, leaning into his space as you stare up at him.
“I don’t know how to distress.” You admit, “But I need to. So sure, if you can help…” your eyes slide to the side and Hobi chuckles.
“Just let me lead.” He says, his fingers sliding down to your hips. He grips them tightly making you accidentally groan…he cocks a brow, his eyes shining with amusement. “You’re…sensitive.” He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Interesting.”
“Hobi…” you feel his hands guide you to rock your hips in beat with the music, his hips following, pushing himself into you.
“That’s it.” He says, his entire demeanor changing. “Try to move them a little more…yes…” he commands softly. “Try on your own now.”
You close your eyes and try to focus on the music, his hands still on your hips as you circle them. You start getting more and more into it, when you suddenly grind your hips into his, catching him off guard.
“Oh.” Hobi croaks, “Fuck.” He breathes out roughly, “You’re doing good.” He encourages you, you grind yourself against him again, making him stiffen. Are you going crazy? Are you imagining things? Or is Hobi getting a little too into this too? His hands travel all across your back like he doesn’t know where to rest them anymore. He moves in beat with the music, pushing you further into his chest.
“Do something with your hands.” he tells you.
You gaze into his eyes as the music intoxicates you. Your hands glide up your sides until you are tangling them in your hair, your eyes closing as you become more and more involved in this dance.
Hobi watches you with dark eyes, his body going tense as he eyes you carefully. Have you always been this fucking hot? He’s aware you’re beautiful but hot? Like this?
“y/n…” his raspy voice is at your ear, his lips tickling your skin. “Turn around for me.” He doesn’t ask, he tells.
You turn in his embrace and push your ass back into him, his crotch surging forward when he feels you. You aren’t going crazy. You aren’t imagining this. He’s into this too. You can feel it. Quite literally. His growing bulge snug against your ass as you circle your hips against him, the feeling so sinful.
“You’re getting better and better. The way you move is…” he releases a long breath, trying to stay composed. “Fucking sexy.” Then suddenly his lips are on your neck, you roll your head back on his shoulder giving him more access. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the music or the sudden tension between you two but you don’t care.
“Hobi…” you whine and that’s it. His hands grip at your body with more purpose now, groping you where it matters, his touch fucking electrifying.
“Mm.” you grind into his crotch harder now, swiveling your hips onto his hardening cock.
“Careful y/n.” he warns. You’ve never seen this side of Hobi before…he’s usually so bright and sweet but right now there’s something intense and demanding about him.
“Hm?” you act innocent as you turn around, your hands exploring the front of his body now. “Careful about what?” you say as you brush your fingers across his crotch.
“You have no idea what I could do to you.” He says as he rolls his head back in satisfaction. “No idea how I’d ruin you.”
“You could ruin me?” You raise a single brow, “Here?” You tease, your hands wrapping around his neck. “In front of everyone?”
“Oh y/n.” Hobi rasps out, “I will fuck you in the bathroom if I have to.”
The smirk on Jung Hoseok’s face is dangerous. He holds you close, his chest flush against yours.
“Hobi…”
“What about you needing to distress again?”
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Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Jungkook
Summary: You miss him so much, but it seems like getting to spend time with Jungkook is going to take a Christmas miracle.
Ao3 Link: here
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, side Namgi
Length: 17.6k
Rating: Mature
Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
Warnings: Suspicions of cheating, misunderstandings, panic attack, suggestive content, swearing
A/N: Oooof I am finally done my Secret Santa fic for @thebtswritersclub and only - *checks calendar* - too late. So sorry this is so late @jjeongukkie! It got so much longer than I had planned, and while I had a lot of fun writing it, I did not plan it quite well enough to finish in a timely fashion. Still, I hope you’re able to enjoy a last blast of Christmas vibes and fluff and angst as you slide into 2021! Thank you for your patience, and I hope you have an awesome new year!
I always appreciate all likes, reblogs and comments! If you enjoy reading this, send me an ask! Happy belated New Year to everyone!
---
“You’re not coming home now?”
Even as you say it, you’re vaguely surprised you manage to get the words out. Your lips are numb with shock and disappointment, and Jungkook’s wince on the screen of your phone just makes the feeling even more jarring. More painful.
“I’m sorry,” he says, half pleading and half desperate. “It’s just, this project is so important, and we need to have it ready for rollout…”
Throat tight, the fingers of your free hand pushing into your thigh, you adjust the phone with your other before saying thickly, “You said it would be a few hours in the morning, Jungkook. It’s – it’s Christmas."
"I know, I know, I just..."
He’s still speaking, quick and anxious words about necessity and pressure, and while you’re listening, you’re thinking about the cute lingerie sitting next to you on the bed. You'd been planning a little gift for him when he got home, and when he'd surprised you with a Facetime request, you'd pulled them out of the drawer, thinking it might be a fun little tease to give him a flash of the red and black set. Now, though...
"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry. Really." Biting at his lip, Jungkook somehow manages to look a bit pitiful, even with the dress shirt he's wearing, ironed to sharp definition. The collar of the black shirt is open, sans a tie – he’d mentioned this morning no one cared about perfect business attire while working over Christmas – and the bare curve of his collarbone just adds to the disjointed clash of his clean outfit compared to his dejected expression.
The look has your throat closing even more, and you try to force a smile. You're well aware of how stressful the new position has been for your long time boyfriend, seen the casualties of the job; late night arrivals at the apartment, distracted eyes while making and eating dinner, forehead creased with frustration every time his phone vibrates, fatigue that throws him into sleep before you and he have really even had any time to talk together. He's also been hitting the gym almost religiously lately, another outlet for stress, and while you love Jungkook's enthusiasm for staying active, two sessions a day, every day, is excessive for him. It also eats into what little opportunity is left for you two to spend time with each other.
But he's doing his best. You know that. You're sure of it. And he promised it would get better, soon.
Soon. So, you swallow the disappointment, and the thing that’s more dangerous, simmering below it and too perilously close to anger. You hitch on a smile, and hope it doesn't look quite as forced as it feels. "I get it, Kookie. I'm just sorry you have to work for so long. Will you be back in time for dinner?"
He hesitates, teeth still sawing into his lower lip as he jiggles his head indecisively and the camera frame shifts a bit. "I'm not sure but – probably?" Your expression must sink just as much as your stomach does, despite your best efforts, because Jungkook immediately grimaces, his hands making desperate little waves of abortive denial. "I mean, I will. For sure. I'll be home, okay?"
When he flashes a thumbs up, deliberately and extravagantly enthusiastic, you can't help but smile, just a tentative lift of your lips. "Just – I love you, Kookie. I hope we get to spend some of Christmas together."
"We will! Promise." Both hands are up now, clenched into eager fists under his chin, and he really couldn't look more earnest if he tried.
The smile comes a bit easier now, and you nod, feeling some of that enthusiasm reaching through the screen. "Okay." Taking a deep breath, you try to redirect the conversation, too painfully aware that sulking isn't going to help at all. "Have you eaten lunch yet? Don't miss it just for your stupid boss!"
His grin is a small, toothy thing. "Nah, I haven't. I –"
"Jungkook!"
"I was saving room for when I got home!"
"Hah! You think there's going to be food on the table for you?" This bickering is so much easier than anything else that you might say, and you fall into it with something like relief.
His eyebrows fall, nose scrunching dramatically. "On the table? Y/N, that's so unsanitary."
"So unsanitary...?"
At your puzzled look, the grossed out expression whirls away, replaced with a smirk that's so abruptly suggestive that you find your breath catching. The way his voice drops, becoming a low hum, just concentrates the effect. "I was saving room for you, of course. But I'm not gonna eat you out on the table, baby."
You huff in scornful incredulity, but it can't take back the fact that you almost choked a second ago. It also doesn't really hide the way your cheeks have heated up into a patchy red, and besides, Jungkook knows you too well. If anything, his smirk just gets even sharper, and he adds playfully, "Unless you have it on your wish list. Then I might consider it."
Fucking around with Jungkook on any surface is absolutely on your wish list, but you're too proud and currently too annoyed to tell him that. "With my luck, it would break trying to hold up your inflated ego."
"My inflated muscles, you mean," he says, and flexes. Which is just so obnoxious, and also the long sleeve hides his arms too well to be truly impressive.
"Do that again when you get home," you order imperiously, and immediately he bows his head.
"You got it, boss," he agrees, and it's that easy, sudden switch, that flexibility, that's at least part of the reason you love him so much. Jungkook is what you need him to be; he's always been comfortable with that role, and your flighty ass needs him in so many different ways. He's never failed you in that respect. Well – not much. You need him with you right now, after all.
Want, you remind yourself sternly. You want him, that's all.
Abruptly he stiffens, turns slightly. You hear someone speaking off camera, high and strained, and Jungkook replies in a confident voice, talking about something you don't have enough information on to fully understand. They have a short conversation before Jungkook says, "I'll be over in a moment, okay?"
Then he's turning back to you, the by now familiar crease back between his eyes. "I've got to go now, Y/N. I'll get out of here as quickly as I can, okay?"
"Okay. Love you, Kookie. And try to eat something."
He nods, curter now, already turning away from the camera. "See you soon."
And you're left with a call ended screen and no reciprocal "love you". The flicker of warmth that had been blooming in your stomach wilts until there's nothing but a cold tightness left. For a few minutes you scroll aimlessly through your apps and messages, fingers restless for something the phone can't give. There are too many Merry Christmas posts, too many pics of friends and family having a good time together with gifts and food, and it grows the hurt in your gut. You and Jungkook had decided not to travel to any of your families' gatherings, to save some money this year after a big and expensive move, but that had been with the assumption that you would be able to take comfort in each other. Now...
Before too long, you give up, toss the phone aside. It lands next to the lingerie, and for the time being you leave them both alone, suddenly anxious to get away from the remote device and the painful reminder both. Your apartment isn't large, and it only takes you a few steps to leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen. You spend several moments milling around there, but you've already prepped everything for dinner tonight; the only thing left to do is the dishes from this morning's simple breakfast, eaten long after Jungkook had already bolted his and left. You clean them with desultory effort, trying not to remember that you and your boyfriend had planned to make something fancy together. The restless feeling doesn't leave with the dishes done, and you check, doublecheck and triplecheck everything before you're even halfway to feeling like this part of the apartment might not need anything else.
The living room, attached to the kitchen, has been decorated with reckless abandon. You've got at least an ounce of beauty aesthetic in your bones, and so does Jungkook, but for some reason when put together it equals a pound of ugly. The tinsel – red, gold, silver, and green – is flung about the room over pretty much any surface that will support it, along with red and green lights. The Christmas decorations are a hideous mash up of whatever you and Kookie have scrounged together from your families or garage sales or cheap outlet malls, plus a few modest clay additions of your own making. Several of the larger succulents and other plants are bowed morosely under the weight of ambitious ornaments, and the cactus on the windowsill looks positively garish with a star perched jauntily on its crown.
And you love it all so much.
Remembering the absolutely wild hour or so that you and Jungkook spent together decorating the apartment – such a rare and precious moment, since you moved here – makes your eyes start prickling with unbidden tears. Jungkook's staggering workload hadn't been so bad, while you were working; acting as a long distance design consultant for a large collection of homegrown companies tended to keep you busy, and you hadn't noticed his absence in a way that demanded you address it. Now, though, with Christmas an enforced break, since none of your suppliers or other contacts will reply to emails, your loneliness curls itself up in your chest, all barbs and agitation. You’re beginning to suspect that maybe the long absences have hurt you more than you thought.
One of your projects is on the coffee table, the spread of files and print outs of possible designs covering the worn surface. You've always preferred working with physical copies for the initial stages, moving to a tablet for more detailed work. You fling yourself onto the couch, telling yourself you might as well do something productive and hoping it might provide a distraction. That lasts for about half an hour, but it's a constant fight to keep your thoughts on the papers in front of you. The unhappiness is curdling your concentration, and more and more you're aware of a simmering resentment, sharp and insistent under your sadness.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. There'd been so little conflict about moving when Jungkook got the job offer. You were already working remotely, and while the pay increase at Jungkook's new company wasn't that much, it was the promise of what could come that made it nearly impossible to turn down. Saying goodbye to your family hadn't been an issue; you were already living in a different city than them, settled there after university. It had been harder for your boyfriend, but not impossible, and despite both of you leaving friends behind, you'd left with excitement. Hope. The future opening up before you two, together.
With a sigh, you shove the papers away. Leave the living room and take shelter on your bed. Send and reply to some Christmas messages. Make a face at the snap Jin sends you, a little blurry, his flushed cheeks matching the red reindeer antler headband he's wearing. He's holding the gifts you sent several weeks ago, an adorable pair of windup salt and pepper shakers shaped like teddy bears that can walk across the table, along with a few duck-shaped strainers. The caption makes you snort. I'm bearly making it without you, sis. I'm like a duck out of water. The next snap is clearer, of him and his two roommates, Jimin and Hoseok, all making heart signs. Thanks for the gifts! Hope you have a Merry Christmas!
He's in the same city as your parents, and you know he spent yesterday with them. Looks like he's having a great time with his roommates, too. Before the affection can sour, you save the photo and put your phone down again.
Kitchen, living room, bedroom. A discontented circuit you don't know how to break yourself out of. It feels so dumb to be making yourself even more miserable like this. You should phone one of the few friends who aren't with their families, or maybe your parents – hell, you could even phone Jin, he and his roommates would be sure to talk with you for an hour or two. But the thought of admitting you're alone, Jungkook having chosen work over spending the holiday with you, has your shame rising to scalding levels. The mere prospect of hearing and seeing everyone happy while you’re alone is another hurt, one that makes you curl up more tightly on the bed, clutching his pillow to your chest like it could fill up the hollowness settled in your lungs. Just like all of the sheets, it has his scent, light and flowery and soft, and it inspires an aching, cloying feeling that isn't really close enough to comfort, but you hold it tighter anyways.
The day drags on like that, swamps of self-pity drained by bursts of frantic activity. You clean up a bit more, work on a project, watch some TV. And then the rush of drowning loneliness fills up your lungs again and you're reduced to more aimless pining.
By three, with no texts from Jungkook and the need to start cooking soon looming large on the horizon, you send him a message. Hey. Gonna be home soon?
About half an hour later, you add a ? that still gets no immediate reply, and agitated tension has you wondering if you should call him. But what if you interrupt something? Get him in trouble? Worrying the thoughts ragged in your head, you resolve to give it just a little more time. Hell, for all you know, maybe he’s on his way home now.
At around four, your phone starts vibrating. Not a Facetime request, this time, but the name that pops up is welcome all the same. You answer almost breathlessly. "Hey Kookie!"
"Hey Y/N."
Right away you know this isn't the kind of phone call you were hoping for. Jungkook's voice is gravelly and tired, more like a bruise than a sound. Your shoulders slump, and you can't find it in yourself to say anything.
Your boyfriend tentatively breaks the silence a moment later. "Y/N, I'm sorry. Things are spilling over and I'm not going to be able to leave for awhile longer."
"..."
"Y/N? Are you -"
"How much longer?"
You can practically hear the wince. "I'm not sure yet."
"Jungkook..." But once again, the words catch in your throat, trapped by just how ungrateful and immature you feel.
"Look, Y/N, I was thinking. Maybe, if I come home too late, we can move dinner to tomorrow? I'm definitely going to be home all day, so we can have a nice breakfast and dinner and maybe open our presents and..." There's nothing in the quiet between you two. Certainly not your agreement. "I know I messed up and that this isn't fair to you, Y/N, and I'm sorry. Maybe – couldn't we just... reset? Start Christmas for real tomorrow?"
"Reset?" you repeat. "Like – what, like one of your video games?" The swampy depression is bubbling now, surging with the outrage that's been building all day.
"No, that's not -"
"We can't just reset, Jungkook. This isn't a level you get to just do over!"
"I know that, that isn't what I meant, you're -"
"I've been waiting here all day, Jungkook! By myself! Just waiting here for you! Do you get how bad that makes me feel?"
Jungkook sounds choked when he replies, though it's hard to tell if it's from guilt or anger. "I know I've made you wait, and I'm sorry. But the project -"
"I don't care about the fucking project! You should have told them to fuck off when they asked you to work!" You're full on shouting now, eyes stinging with tears, the sound tearing from your throat. "This has been the worst Christmas I've ever had, and you just want me to forget about it?"
His voice doesn't get louder. If anything, it gets quieter, smaller, coiling in on itself into a tight mass. "Do you think I'm having a good time? I've been working since 8:00 on Christmas day! It's not like I asked to come in, and they barely gave me a choice! I'm the junior here, do you think they would have been okay with me shrugging today off?"
"Today? Today?" Your laugh sounds too cruel, even to your own ears. "It hasn't just been today, Jungkook! This is just – more of the same! More ditching me – ditching us – for work. For some stupid reason I thought that you might consider Christmas an important enough day to knock it off for just one fucking second. But I guess not."
"I'm doing this for us! For – I told you how much work it was going to be! I thought you'd be okay with it!"
"And I thought there might be a tiny little exception made for Christmas. I guess we were both wrong!" you spit furiously.
There's a pause, heavy with the sound of both of your staggered breathing. You're too angry to regret what you've said – or at least, to acknowledge how much you regret it – and the bewildered hurt is travelling straight to your head, leaving you dazed and disconnected. Could Jungkook really have thought you were okay with what's been happening? Okay with being left alone for what feels like months now? How can you be listening to his tense exhales and still not understand the person on the other end of this call?
"I'm sorry, Y/N." Too polite, too gentle by far. Where the hell did he get off sounding like that? You know that's Jungkook – that he's far more likely to shutdown during an argument, to close off – but it leaves you clashing against air. No opposing force to clamp down on your own anger.
Heaving in a sharp exhale, shaking your head even though he can't see it, you say, "Do what you want, Jungkook. I'm not making the dinner if you're not leaving right now."
"Y/N..."
"Merry Christmas." You hang up.
It feels horrible. The phone is a dead weight in your hand, the anger an even heavier weight in your heart. You make a fractured noise, a frustrated scream that quickly trails into a barely checked sob. If you felt bad before talking to Jungkook, it's nothing compared to the mix of self-recriminations and resentment assaulting you now. He was just - why did he have to - why couldn't he -
Why did I have to say that to him?
You know Jungkook. How hard working he is, how dedicated, how keenly he wants to do well in front of and for others. He isn't working late because he doesn't want to see you; you're sure of that. It's just an inability to say no to his superiors. And... and you really haven't told him how unhappy you are with how often he's away.
But still. Couldn't he figure it out? Did you need to spell out your misery for him to get it? Is that really what your relationship amounts to?
Another aggravated exhale parts your lips, and you start pacing faster, needing the release. The next few hours stretch in front of you with wretched promise. What do you do now? Just wait by yourself until he gets home? Have to see his ashamed, hurt, averted eyes, the way he would creep into the apartment with a shield set between you and him? And then what? Go to bed with that block between you two, wake up and somehow try to pretend it doesn't exist tomorrow?
The tears flow down your cheeks despite your hands’ furious attempts to press them away and there's no way to stop them once they've begun. You cry, the way people often cry when they’re lonely, like silence is their only companion and they're afraid of scaring even that friend away. Quietly, then, no longer trying to hold the tears back but unable to give voice to the magnitude of your pain, either. The wet, soft sobbing quickly sends you back to bed, where you curl up once again, struggling for some kind of self-control.
God, you just miss him so much. Not today, not now, not – it's a void of the little things. The snicker when you berate him for being messy. His warm, gentle hands on your neck after a day hunched over a project, massaging out the pain. A little giggle as you watch a Ghibli film together. The shoving matches when you're out shopping and competing for who can get the most stuff on the list. The quick kisses and the slow kisses and the deep, hungry kisses that always lead to you waking up in his arms the next day, far later into the morning than usual.
You miss him so much, and you just pushed him away even more.
With a muffled sob you push your face further into the pillow, hating how pitiful this is, how much you're struggling to get your emotions under control. This is so – it's ridiculous, that's what it is. Childish. It's not as if you've lost Jungkook forever, and you haven't lost all of the things you love about him, either. It's not like you never goof off anymore, or cuddle, or talk. It's just – it's just that everything has been so much more frantic, hurried, and stressful since the move. It seems like there's never a moment where you can just sit together and love each other and think of nothing else.
The anger, remorse and dejection feed off each other, first growing and prolonging the wrenching feeling choking your throat, and you cry until time doesn’t mean much anymore. The grief is so horribly thick it’s like you can’t even breathe through it, let alone do anything but lie in bed. It goes on and on and – and then exhaustion overtakes your convulsive crying. Eventually, without ever actually being filled, the hollow ache contracts into a hard pit, the tears all forced out. Nothing else, though. The guilt and resentment and sadness are still there, dulled to a grey, insubstantial mass.
But at least you can think a bit. Listlessly, with all the colours drained out of it, but you can do more than sob. Wiping at your clogged nose and tear-streaked face, you find you can actually breathe, something of an improvement. You sit up, gently set the pillow back on Jungkook's side of the bed, giving the soft material one last swipe, trying to rid it of the wet evidence of your meltdown. No luck there, but it'll probably be dry before your boyfriend gets home.
If he gets home.
The bitterness of that thought is too tired to summon more tears from the hole in your heart or your head. You shake it away, more because you're just too drained to cling to the heavy emotion than because of some angelic impulse to forgive.
You know you have to do something. Anything. Literally anything will be better than just sitting here, waiting for Jungkook to come in, getting pricklier with each passing minute. With the Christmas dinner off the table, you suppose you could just pick up something to eat. Fast-food or something... have it ready for him to heat up when he was done work... like you're some trophy girlfriend.
Once again you need to stop yourself, biting back the wave of resentment. God, this isn't doing you any good, and it's so, so unfair to Jungkook. Yeah, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to work on Christmas. Maybe he should have been more sensitive to how far you've been drifting apart because of his long work hours. But at the same time, yelling at him over the phone wasn't the answer, either. He's probably having as bad of a time as you are, and with no private room to cry in, either. He'll be totally repressing the argument now, shoving it into a locker and subconsciously telling himself he's to blame, that he's a horrible boyfriend. Trying to listen to his coworkers and do his work with those harsh criticisms running low and dark through his head. That's how Jungkook is. He takes everything onto himself, especially if you give it to him.
Running your hands through your hair at the thought, pity clenching your chest, you abruptly get up. You and Jungkook definitely need to talk, and soon. But – but there's no reason to close out this shitty day with an even more horrible evening of strained silence and brittle rebuttals. Neither of you are particularly good at apologizing, even though you're both great at feeling guilty. You just don't have the words for it. So, unless you do something – make some gesture – this is just going to stretch into an awful, prolonged fight that isn't a fight at all, both of you retreating from each other.
It's unbearable. You can't stand it. So… you're going to do something about it.
Resolved, as resolved as you can be, you change out of your PJs. The weather's been quite warm, with no snow to speak of, so it's not like you need to bundle up much. After a moment of hesitation, you choose to snag the ugly Christmas sweater. It's got a comically drawn pink bunny on the front, absurdly muscular, with a red Santa hat settled firmly between its ears, and a myriad of red and green patterns crammed into the background. It was the rabbit's expression and the accompanying phrase that had got Jungkook to laughing until he was doubled over when he'd seen it at the mall last year. A challenging, almost intimidating grin is plastered on the rabbit's face, with the words This Bun Don't Want None in cheerfully bedazzled white underneath. Your boyfriend had quite literally begged to get two and wear them to the upcoming Christmas party, and he'd been too imploring for you to say no.
Slipping it on, with the accompanying memory of his hysterical amusement, crinkled nose, and bunny grin every time he caught a glimpse of you at the party, is the closest you've felt to peace in the last few hours.
You throw on some dark jeans and apply your makeup with a thoroughness that's a little much, given that you're not going anywhere for long. You don't care; it feels good to dim the red-rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks your breakdown has gifted you, to cover it over with something prettier. Finishing with the last of the mascara, you grab your transit pass and head out, closing the door behind you with a finality that could almost be a goodbye.
The air outside is cool, a relief compared to the stuffy apartment, at least for now. You inhale deeply, the mild cold burning your sinuses and clearing your clogged head a bit. In a while, you might regret not having a warmer layer on, but for now it’s a relief to begin to walk, to stretch both your legs and your mind from the cramped defensiveness the apartment had been inspiring. This is – this is a good idea. You’re positive about it now, and can feel your shoulders loosening, steps becoming brisker.
If Jungkook can’t come to you – well, you’ll just go to him. At least for now.
Your building isn't too far from Jungkook's work; you only have a short train ride and a shorter bus ahead of you, according to your phone. You’ve been to his work three times before, but always in your shared car, and you walk with eyes fixed on your screen, calculating the time schedules. Part of you wants to text him, send a little olive branch to smooth the way and let him know you’re coming, but a larger part longs for something romantic and cute to happen today. Fast-food might not quite cut it, but surely a surprise visit might? You won’t stay long, won’t interrupt his work, but just to see his face, confused and then quietly grateful and loudly gleeful when he realizes why you’ve come –
It seems like that shouldn’t be too much to ask.
The trip flies by; you're too anxious in your own head to notice much outside of it, and besides, there aren't many people out and about today. Probably busy celebrating with their families.
You bite your lip at the thought, and violently yank your attention away.
At this rate, you should sign up for a game of Olympic tag. Surely nothing can run as agilely as you've been doing, avoiding every uncomfortable idea.
Jungkook's work is downtown, and there are tons of fast-food options nearby. You pick a smaller chain, KTown Fried Chicken, that both you and Jungkook enjoy. It's hard to convince yourself the cashier isn't judging you at least a little bit for your weird presence on Christmas night. Or maybe she's just eyeing the sweater. That’s another possibility.
With only one other person in line, the food comes quickly, and then you're on your way. Somewhere between stepping off the bus and smiling awkwardly at the girl behind the counter, it occurred to you that you didn't know when Jungkook was actually leaving work. He obviously didn't pack up right away after your argument – he would have made it home before you left – but that doesn't mean he isn't going to be heading home some time soon.
What if you show up and he's not there? What if he shows up and you're not there? What would he think? It is entirely too much to ask your wrung out brain to decide if it would be hilarious, infuriating, or some kind of karmic justice, but you do know that you'd rather just catch him at work with this peace offering. Much simpler that way, so you hurry your steps, snugging your sweater a little tighter around your frame as you do so.
You make it to the imposing office building of Projeck at around six, which is, as it happens, when two of Jungkook’s coworkers are leaving the building. Jungkook talks about them quite a bit – actually, gushes might be a better word – and you’d met them at the office Christmas party a couple of weeks ago. Namjoon, a tall, elegant man with blonde hair currently dressed in a black turtleneck, is one of the lead game designers, and he holds the door open for Yoongi, an audio engineer. The older of the two, in an oversized, comfy hoodie markedly at odds with his companion’s attire, slouches through with a tired smile of thanks.
Both had made a good impression on you at the party (it helped that they were obviously fond of Jungkook and appreciative of his talents) and you’re a little relieved to see them. Solved the awkwardness of trying to get into the building without letting Jungkook know you were here. Both pause at the sight of you, confusion creasing their features, before a grin flashes across Namjoon’s face.
“Hey, Y/N! Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” offers Yoongi as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of the hoodie he’s wearing. His eyes are on your chest, a little furrow across his brow, and it takes you a second to realize it’s the bunny again. After a moment his lips quirk, quiet amusement in the expression, and it makes it easier for you to reply brightly.
“Hey Namjoon, Yoongi. Merry Christmas! Are you heading home?” The prospect makes you a little excited. If they’re leaving, surely Jungkook won’t be far behind?
“Yup,” Namjoon agrees easily. His head tilts a little, scouring over you quizzically, before his gaze finds the bag in your hand. “Are you bringing something for Kookie?”
“Yeah… He, uh, was working so late I thought it might be nice to surprise him with some food.” You say it more like a confession, shoulders tight with the knowledge that this is making you sound way better than you actually are.
Namjoon whistles, eyes widening. “Wow, that’s really nice of you.”
“I mean, I haven’t done much today so –”
“He’s not here.” Yoongi states it so bluntly that it takes you a second to process what he said.
“…not here?” you ask, dismayed.
“Nah.” As your stunned eyes fall on him, giving him your full attention, he shrugs uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. He left like… twenty minutes ago?”
“He did?” Namjoon demands, and Yoongi just shrugs again.
Clutching at the paper bag that suddenly feels pathetic and cheap, a stupid idea, you say weakly, “Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, and both of the men’s expressions are soft with a sympathy that doesn’t make you feel any less stupid. “I guess… I’ll go home, then.”
Shifting again, a movement that has him brushing briefly against Namjoon, Yoongi trails a hand up to his ear. “Uh, I don’t think he was going home? Or at least, not right away?”
"What do you mean?" Maybe he'd mentioned he was stopping to pick up dinner, too? Maybe the fast-food you're lugging around is even more useless than you'd thought? Why hadn't you texted him? Why hadn't you -
"He was asking me about the fastest way to get to, uh, the Golden Closet Gallery. I think he was dropping by there first."
"Did - did he say why?"
"Meeting someone? Maybe? I dunno, he's been quiet almost all day, and he rushed away pretty quick."
You stare at him, tired and confused and more than a little guilty at the mention of Jungkook’s withdrawn state. What are you supposed to make of all this? You know about the Golden Closet Gallery – of course you do. You and he went a couple times, early on after your move here, both of you taking a lot of enjoyment from the art displays. But – it couldn't be open now, could it? And even if it were, why would he be going? Who could he possibly be meeting? Was he trying to take a late tour to calm down? Something else entirely? And – it didn't even matter. It wasn't as though you could reach him in a timely manner.
You were just going to have to go back home, and – you weren’t sure. Certainly not eat. The thought of trying to swallow any food right now, with your stomach tearing itself into pieces of shivering disappointment, is too much. Maybe Jungkook would already be at the apartment by the time you got there. Maybe you two could just – sit together. Just be together.
You’re not sure what’s sadder; how much happiness that simple picture gives you, or how sad you are that it makes you happy.
Trying to straighten your crumpled expression, you smile. "Well – thank you for letting me know. Guess I get all of this for myself." Your laugh as you heft the fast-food bag is a small and lost thing. "Sorry to keep you guys. I hope you have a good night!"
You've just begun to turn away, aching to end the conversation before you start bawling in front of these two men, when Namjoon clears his throat, his gaze shifting to Yoongi for a moment. The other man jerks a shoulder, bobs his head, and Namjoon looks back at you. You shuffle a little, desperate to be away but not wanting to be rude to two of the few people at this company who actually seem to be lessening Jungkook's stress.
"Did you take the bus to get here? We could give you a ride if you wanted."
Your throat tightens, and you're already shaking your head before you've even thoroughly processed the offer. "No, thanks, I don't want to take you out of your way."
"Well, if you wanted to drop by the Gallery and see if Kookie is there, it wouldn't be out of our way at all. We live pretty close by." Yoongi nods in agreement, his round face scrunching reassuringly with something that's not – quite – a smile.
When you waver, Namjoon says with studied nonchalance, "Even if he's not there, Yoongi and I don't have any plans for tonight. We don't mind dropping you off."
Still, the thought of inconveniencing them because of your stupid planning – not to mention that you don't know them that well – makes awkward turmoil roil in your stomach. Reading your reluctant expression and apparently hesitant to press you, Namjoon relents. “Well, if you’re sure…”
“Y/N. Come on. We’ll save you a lot of time, and I’m sure Jungkookie would be mad if we didn’t give you the ride. He already throws stuff at me when he thinks I’m not looking; I don’t want him to start chucking shit that actually hurts.” Yoongi’s eyebrow is lifted, an inviting gesture accompanied by a smile with just a hint of gums, and you can’t help but respond, a rueful chuckle that slips out at the picture his comment puts in your head.
Jungkook had mentioned there were a few people he liked to mess around with at work, but somehow it hadn’t crossed your mind that the quiet and slightly intimidating man would be one of his targets.
It decides you.
With a sharp dip of your head, you assent. "Okay, okay. Yeah, sure, and thank you guys. It means a lot to me, and, umm, if you need gas money or something..."
Namjoon throws back his head and utters a loud, barking laugh while Yoongi chuckles. "The company doesn't pay us enough, sure, but I think we can afford to cover this trip, Y/N. Besides, Jungkook's been working overtime so often, I feel like we practically owe you for stealing him so much."
That leaves a sour taste in your mouth that you're quick to swallow. Grinning weakly, you follow the two to their car, a compact grey Honda that's seen better days. Namjoon tries to insist you take shotgun next to Yoongi, but you're far too flustered at the thought of taking his spot and practically dive into the backseat. The first few minutes are a little strained, the fast-food bag on your lap rustling every time you move. Namjoon shuffles through a bunch of Christmas songs on his phone and Yoongi hums to them under his breath, seemingly unperturbed every time his companion switches mid-note.
Eventually, though, Namjoon finds a song he likes enough to leave on, and you find yourself drawn into a relaxed talk with them. Yoongi throws in a comment here and there, and together the two of them are so – easy. They add teasing remarks about each other without pausing for breath, Yoongi praises an arching plotline Namjoon had finished storyboarding today, and when a particularly loud Christmas jangle comes on, Namjoon's already changing it before Yoongi has time to huff in displeasure. You know they're roommates – more than that Jungkook hasn't said – and there's something uplifting about listening to their comfortable conversation.
They don't leave you out of it, either. You talk about your home city. You talk about how you met Jungkook in university, when you both arrived late to a morning Intro to Computer Animation course and were locked out of the classroom as a result. (You'd whispered furiously at each other about who should knock first until another hectic student had come charging up, bleary with sleep, and literally ran into the door when it failed to open. That had pretty much dissolved the tension between you two.) On a wave of laughter from that story, you tentatively ask how the job has been for Jungkook so far.
He's always so keen to hide his stress, so anxious not to talk about it and burden you. It seems like these two coworkers might be a good way to get a better picture, rather than the stitched together portrait you've gotten from the late nights and short, hesitant answers he gives you. At the thought, you pull out your phone to see if he’s sent you anything, but you have no texts.
The laughter dwindles, and you hear Yoongi rattling the spit in his mouth loudly enough to be heard over the music as he makes a lane change. In the other seat, Namjoon runs a hand through his blonde hair. Their silence immediately winds you up, and your hand, holding the phone, falls to the side. Had Jungkook not been telling you something? Was it worse than the late hours? Was –
"This isn't a great company," Yoongi states flatly, when it becomes obvious Namjoon is still groping for something more tactful to say. "They make you feel like you owe them your finger bones just because they pay a bit above average, and if those aren't showing from hitting the keyboards enough, you're some kind of failure."
"Yeah..." Namjoon sighs. "They tried that with me, but Yoongi's been there for several years, he's the best they've got in the audio department, and he made it clear that if I left, he would too. So they pulled back a little. Jungkook, though..."
"He doesn't say no. I've told him to – told him I'll throw in for him – but he's really afraid he's gonna get tossed. Can't blame him. People get fired too easily at Projeck." His voice is disinterested, but Yoongi makes another lane change, too abruptly this time, and that, plus his tight grip on the steering wheel, is a hint that he’s not quite as untouched as he sounds.
You press your back into the seat, trying to give yourself a semblance of a spine as your whole body threatens to fold. You'd had an inkling that Jungkook was maybe conceding too easily to upper management, but it sounds like he's having way more than a little pressure to work late put on him. This – actually this sounds toxic. Crippling. And Jungkook hadn't said anything about it.
And you barely asked.
Gnawing on your cheek, you lapse into silence, struggling for something to say.
Namjoon looks back, brows pulling together at whatever he sees on your face. "He's trying to get ahead of his workload, Y/N," he says gently. "I know after today he doesn't plan on going in until after New Years. He said he really wants to spend time with you."
"He was literally moping all over the office today," Yoongi adds. "Was surprised he didn't break his computer screen, he was sighing on it so much."
They're trying to make you feel better, reassure you that Jungkook had missed you and hated being separated on today of all days. They are accomplishing the exact opposite of what they intend, but that's not their fault. After all, they don't know what you'd said to Jungkook over the phone. Part of you wonders if they'd even have been willing to give you a ride if they did know. You're pretty sure you wouldn't have been if you were them.
You might also have tried to run yourself over on the way out of the parking lot, if you were them.
Before you can pull anything resembling words from the mire of rabid guilt curdling in your throat, the car pulls into the Gallery's small parking lot. It's almost surprising to find that there are two other vehicles already parked, and with the way the night is going, it's even more surprising that you recognize one of them as Jungkook's.
"He's here!" you cry out, relief and something heavier saturating your voice.
With a pleased exclamation, Namjoon gestures excitedly, smashing his hand into the roof of the car with a loud thud in the process.
"If you fucking dent my car..." Yoongi begins, but their mild bickering slips by you.
Your eyes are straining for some sign of Jungkook. The parking lot is empty of people, and the big sign above the building isn't lit up. However, it looks like there are some lights on in the Gallery, spilling out into the dimly lit lot, and as you fix your anxious gaze on the interior through the wide glass windows, you think you see the dim form of at least one person moving inside.
He’s here. You’re literally lightheaded with the joy of that certainty. This day has stretched out with excruciating discord, but now, everything is drawing tighter, shorter, focusing into a promise of reprieve. Finally, finally, something’s going right. The blissful expectation of getting to see Jungkook is almost enough for you to forget about everything else. For this moment, you think you’d forego everything Christmas – the gifts, the dinner, the decorations, everything – just to press your face against his chest and feel him holding you.
Hand on the door handle, you keep yourself from leaping out and dashing to the building only with difficulty. “Thank you so much for driving me. I almost can’t believe we caught him.”
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” Namjoon replies. “Escaping from Projeck before eight was our miracle – looks like this gets to be yours.”
The three of you chuckle at that, and then you’re opening the door. “I’ll let Jungkook know you helped me. Maybe he’ll stop throwing things.”
“And maybe Santa exists,” Yoongi grumbles, but there’s no annoyance in his rasping voice. “’Sides, that’s not what I want from him. Tell him to think about what we’ve said, ‘kay?”
Assuming he means saying no to the boss more, you nod, emotional with how lucky both you and Jungkook are to have run into such kind people. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t really cover the gratitude their thoughtfulness has inspired in you, and on top of everything else you’ve been through today, it’s almost enough to set you to crying again.
Namjoon seems to sense you’re at a loss for words; at any rate, he fills in the space. “If things change for the better in the new year, we’ll see more of you, Y/N. In the meantime, take care! I hope you and Jungkook have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!”
Your voice comes out husky with gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you. I – Hope you both have a Merry Christmas, too! And a Happy New Year!”
Then you’re out of the car, shutting the door carefully behind you, your jaw tight to keep back the ridiculous tears. Yoongi and Namjoon wave, you wave back, and then Yoongi pulls away, leaving you standing and waving in the parking lot until the car turns and is gone. You take a couple of deep breaths, a smile easing the urge to cry. The excitement hasn’t dimmed at all, and, clutching the fast-food bag tightly, you pivot towards the Gallery, little shivers of anticipation darting under your skin.
You practically run to the doors, and nearly commit the same mistake that student had, years ago, when they don’t open at your touch. The thought of smacking into them and announcing your presence to Jungkook that way has a low laugh bubbling in your throat. Yanking yourself to a halt, you try pulling and pushing on the doors, to no avail; they’re locked. You give them one last jerk, just to be sure, but they remain stubbornly shut. It’s not enough of a deterrent to dampen your spirits, though you find yourself bouncing impatiently on the soles of your feet, unable to get rid of the fizzy energy coursing through your veins.
You’re okay to wait outside until Jungkook comes out – it’s still not that cold out, and how much longer could he really be? – but nonetheless you start heading to the right, circling around the building, peering into the windows on the off-chance you can catch sight of your boyfriend and get his attention. The lights are off in some of the areas, but a few are flooded in a soft glow, and you skim your eyes over all that you can see. The more you look, the more confused you are about why Jungkook would be here. There are no other customers that you can see, so clearly, it’s not some sort of special Christmas showing. You literally can’t think of another reason he might be here. And hadn’t Yoongi said he was meeting someone?
It’s a mystery you can’t solve yourself, and you keep up your roaming examination. Most of the building has glass walls, except for an area near the back, and you can see inside fairly easily, where the lights are on. The Gallery is pretty typical, all open spaces and white, dismantlable walls, the better to more starkly exhibit the art pieces scattered across the wooden floors. There are paintings and sculptures, a few more abstract works, little plaques beside most of them –
But no Jungkook.
Lips pursued, you make your way further around, until you’re on the other side of the building, ears keen for any sound of a door opening. Wouldn’t that just be typical? While you’re wandering around out here, he comes out and leaves…
You should text him. A surprise visit is one thing, but at this point you being outside is going to be surprise enough. With that thought in mind, you begin fumbling in your pockets, awkwardly cradling the fast-food in one hand as you search for your phone. Not in your back jean pockets. A horrified panic starts building, and by the time you’ve clawed all the lint out of your sweater’s pockets, you’re certain. You don’t have it.
A memory, stilted and strained, of your hand falling to your side when you’d been talking about Jungkook’s stress in Yoongi’s car. In your anguish, it suddenly becomes clear to you; you’d dropped it. Forgotten to pick it up again. It was in the car!
For a second, you think that’s going to be the breaking point. The straw on the camel’s back. Your frustration peaks, eyes stinging, hands balled into fists as your excitement is drowned in self-reproach and an overwhelming sense of despair. Why were you so stupid? Fighting with Jungkook, sulking around the apartment, this dumb idea to get fast-food that’s definitely cold by now, and now – now this. You start walking again, barely looking, just planning to get to the front of the building and maybe collapse on the pavement. The crushing unhappiness doesn’t let up. Were you cursed? Was the world out to get you? Had you kicked a puppy in a past life? Why did you end up –
Your raging internal soliloquy is interrupted by movement within the Gallery. Someone is moving inside. Someone tall and muscular, with his black shirt rolled up to the elbows, long, shaggy black hair tucked behind his ears as he lounges against one of the white walls. He’s partially turned; you can only see half of his face, and even that not perfectly because of the narrow angle, but the sharp definition of his jaw is obvious, even from here. There’s something rectangular leaning against the wall next to him, wrapped in brown packaging paper, but you barely notice it. He’s talking to someone equally as tall, their back turned to you, but you barely register them.
Jungkook. It’s Jungkook!
It is not an exaggeration to say that for a second you doubt your eyes. Everything has just been so, so shitty today that you’d almost believe he’s a hologram or a figment of your imagination before buying that your flesh and blood boyfriend is standing some twenty feet away and that all it will take to end this horrible experience will be to catch his attention.
The person he’s talking to must say something funny, because his nose crinkles, lips rising as he tilts his head back and laughs. It’s just a giggle, quickly stifled, but it’s also a needle; the second you see that laugh, your bubble of disbelief pops with a force that’s almost audible. You can’t hear him, but at the same time, you can, fully aware of the way his snicker of amusement started out low and then pitched higher in tandem with his head being thrown back. The sound that isn’t a sound but a memory and a gift and a promise altogether gives rise to something hot and aching in your chest.
“Jungkook,” you say, barely aware of the name slipping between your tingling lips. There’s a rushing sensation in your ears, through your veins, like your blood has just remembered that it’s alive and is eager to prove it. The misery of moments and minutes and hours ago doesn’t disappear, but the sight of your boyfriend is enough to lift you out of it, to buoy you above the churning waves and set you, heart alight, in the clouds.
“Jungkook!” you call, a shout this time, and start waving. He doesn’t hear or notice you, attention fixed on the man he’s with. You still don’t recognize whoever it is, but then again, with his back to you all you can see is the vibrantly patterned orange shirt stretching over his shoulders and a fluffy bit of brown hair. However, whatever he’s saying has sobered Jungkook; from what you can see of his face, his lips have tightened, and he shakes his head now and again.
Who the hell is that, anyways? More vigorous gestures still don’t pull Jungkook’s gaze away from the other person. You know that any second now he’s going to look over and see you, break into a silly, bemused grin, rush over to the window, if only you could just– You’re about to tap on the glass when whoever it is abruptly steps closer to Jungkook. From what you can see, the guy’s large hands are moving passionately, persuasively, and a moment later he grabs Jungkook’s wrist, other hand rising up towards his face. You can’t quite tell what’s happening, except that Jungkook doesn’t shake him off or push him away. Doesn’t push him away, even when he leans closer, their faces inches apart, and the way they’re standing, you still don’t know who it is.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that his personal space is being invaded. There’s an attempt at a scowl on his lips, but you can tell it’s fake, a laugh on the verge of breaking through. You realize your hand is still raised to knock on the window, and let it fall. Brows pulling together, you try to make sense of what you’re seeing. The other man leans in even more, and when their lips are about to touch you wrench your eyes away.
For a long moment you stare at the pavement at your feet, mouth moving silently, like you’re searching for a word that fits what you just saw happen. It couldn’t be what you thought. Any second now, a reasonable explanation is going to come to mind. You’re going to find some frame of reference that makes this understandable. There’s going to be something that changes your point of view, makes reality into fiction. Because this can’t be true. This can’t be happening.
Jungkook could not have just kissed someone else in an empty art gallery while he thought you were waiting for him at home.
Except that’s exactly what happened. You feel yourself change. You’re not a person anymore, not a human; you’re a wound, red and open and weeping. With a strangled sob, you suddenly find your feet moving to match your reeling thoughts, and you stagger away from the warmly lit building. The disbelief is like novocaine, numbing the screaming pain of the betrayal, but it’s not strong enough to force your gaze back through the window. Back to your boyfriend and whoever he’s with. Who knows what they’re doing now?
Stopping yourself from crumpling to your knees and curling into a ball takes almost all of your strength, and you can’t keep yourself from doubling over slightly, one hand across your middle as you stumble blindly down the sidewalk and away from the Gallery. You press on your eyes to keep back the tears, cover your mouth to stifle the high, anguished gasps you’re making, but it does little to fool anyone, least of all yourself. Each sob rips from somewhere deep inside you, opens up the injury even further, until it feels like you might very well be tearing your chest apart.
He couldn’t have. He just– he couldn’t have. You can’t reconcile what you saw with what you know, but how can they be two different things? How can your boyfriend – loving, loyal, protective – exist in the same place as that man who hadn’t mentioned he was meeting anyone, who snuck around on Christmas day to see someone else? How can Jungkook be a cheater? How? How?
How could I not have known?
Bewildered, you scrabble through your memories like they’re a pack of spilled cards, struggling to piece them together, to pick them up and put them in order after they’ve fluttered to the ground in a chaos of white and black and red. At first you can’t find a hint. Can’t find a reason. There’s warmth and laughter and closeness in your memories together, with only spots of friction and hurt. What could the memory of you throwing tinsel around Jungkook’s neck and him parading around the living room teach you about this moment? What could the recollection of Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your shaking form when you’d received news of your grandmother’s passing tell you that you should have already known? What could the shadow of his quiet admiration as you showed him your most recent design reveal to your befuddled mind?
Was the staying late the only clue? The only ace card that trumped every other moment together? Or had there been others? Did you confuse his withdrawal from you as stress when it was really guilt? Had the silence been resentment? Boredom? Was he really going to the gym? Or into someone else’s arms? Did you do something wrong? Say something wrong?
Is this your fault?
You don’t know what to do, and as your steps slow, tears still going strong, you realize you barely know where you are. It’s fully dark now, and people are passing infrequently, with the streetlights only vaguely reassuring as they spill over faces. You haven’t taken any side streets, just followed this main road passed gas stations and boutiques, offices and fast-food joints, so you’re not lost, exactly. But you don’t have your phone. How are you supposed to get home?
Home. Suddenly the ache is more real. Present. Demanding. How are you supposed to go home when you thought home was Jungkook?
What do you say to him? What can you say? The thought of facing him has you trembling with something approaching nausea. Or maybe it’s the cold. It’s late enough now that the temperature is dropping, your heaving breath misting from your mouth, and you hadn’t planned to be out so late. The sweater is doing nothing to keep you warm. The sweater…
“Oh, God…” you mumble, your fingers digging into the tacky material, creasing the bunny that had made Jungkook so happy. “What do I do?”
What do I do?
---
With a grunt, Jungkook shoves Taehyung away using a hand against his stomach, the other man’s breath spilling across his face as he huffs in surprise. The push is strong enough to send Taehyung staggering back several paces, and he nearly trips and falls. Even as he catches himself, Jungkook is regretting the violence of the motion. It’s just – he’s feeling so vulnerable right now, so strained, and his friend acting like a clown doesn’t help matters.
Rubbing at his stomach, the other man complains reproachfully, “I was just trying to show you what to do!”
Jungkook sighs, rubbing at his face. “I don’t remember saying I needed help with how to make out,” he points out.
Taehyung throws up his hands. “You’ve missed the point!” he exclaims in disgust. “Didn’t you see the concern in my eyes? The tenderness? Dude, I was stroking your face. That’s how it’s done!”
He snorts but the irritation is already fading, replaced by the amusement he’d had when Tae first started his shenanigans. Jungkook shakes his head, clearing his hair from his eyes, and relents a little. “Do you really think I should do it like that?” A beat. “Well, I mean, not like that. Better.”
With a grand gesture at their surroundings, Taehyung ignores the insult (or misses it, it’s hard to tell with Tae sometimes) and tells him, “You’re already doing better. You’ve got her a painting from an artist she loves.” He stops, points to himself. “Courtesy of your friendly neighbourhood art dealer, who sacrificed his Christmas night and drove all this way to make sure you got it. Plus, there’s the big news – she’s going to lose her mind when you tell her. Anyways, yeah, Koo, I’m pretty sure she’s gonna forgive you, even if you don’t use my sweet moves.”
“But I still don’t know what to say.” Jungkook hates how whiny his voice sounds, how uncertain. At the same time, it feels… good, to admit how he hasn’t got a clue how to make up with you. Or– That isn’t quite right. He does know, somewhere in his gut, in the palms of his hands, in the way his lips ache to skim along your skin. It’s just turning that feeling into words that’s struck him dumb.
“Dude, say what’s in your heart.” There is no one in the world but Taehyung who could say that earnestly and not sound like a weirdo, yet there the other man is, mouth set solemnly, somehow almost making sense. “You love her, you’re sorry for what’s happened, you want to hear her opinion, you’re working to make it better… Koo, you’ve told me all of that in the last half an hour. Now you just need to say it to her.”
“But what if…” He can’t even put it into words, the fear and uncertainty and guilt. Is he asking too much of you? Does he even deserve to ask anything? And what if… what if…
Reading him like a book, Taehyung smiles, simple and brilliant. “She’s going to forgive you. You’ve already forgiven her, so what else is there? Just the getting it done.” Still Jungkook hesitates, and his childhood friend says, a little more gently, “You’re a good person, Koo. I know that, and she does too. Talk to her. You won’t regret it.”
He hangs his head, slowly running his fingers against each other, exploring their lines like they might lead him to the courage he’s searching for. The call with you this afternoon had – shaken him. Although Jungkook had been aware – painfully so – that the two of you weren’t spending enough time together, he hadn’t realized how much it was harming you, and your anger had been both shocking and hurtful. Work had just sucked, so much, and to have you yelling at him…
But after the initial defensive reaction, he couldn’t get the thought of you sitting alone out of his head. It was never his intention to leave you for the whole day, but when he broached the subject of leaving with the boss, the look he got on his face, the way he said, “Well, of course, since I assume you’re done everything you were assigned,” had just been…
You still shouldn’t have left her. Jungkook knows that, knows equally that he didn’t have all that much of a choice if he didn’t want to get fired. It was the balancing act between those understandings that had his shoulders hunched, his cheek fair game to be chewed on. He was working on changing the situation – Namjoon and Yoongi were helping – but what if you thought it wasn’t fast enough? What if you decided you had enough? How can he bear to face you with that possibility on the horizon?
Taehyung gives him space, just hums under his breath and wanders a little, examining the various pieces on display. The Golden Closet Gallery isn’t one of his usual haunts – he tends to deal with artists further up north – but he’d come at Jungkook’s hesitant request, with an alacrity that still has Jungkook wondering what he’d done to deserve such a friend.
He’d had his eye on your favourite local artist’s website, and when the painting went on sale, he’d known he had to get it. However, Projeck employees didn’t get paid until the 20th, and by the time he had enough money to comfortably purchase it, the artist wasn’t available on short notice and wouldn’t have been around to give it to him until after New Year’s Eve. Taehyung is well known in the community, though, and the painter had had no qualms letting him deal with establishing the price and then handing the piece over. It was practically a miracle, even if Tae had only been able to slip away from his family on Christmas afternoon.
Eventually, with Taehyung’s deep baritone hum a soothing presence, Jungkook tamps his fear down. Gets it to a manageable level. At the end of the day – Taehyung is right. He loves you, more than anything, more than he thought he could love anyone. That’s enough. It has to be enough.
He looks up, clears his throat. “Thanks, TaeTae,” Jungkook says quietly. “I really couldn’t have done this without you.”
His friend beams. “Nah, you couldn’t have. But what else are friends for, right?”
“I’ll get you an early release copy of Urban Anonymous. I think you’ll like it,” he promises. “But in the meantime… I think I’ve got someone to, uh, speak my heart to.” For half a second Jungkook thinks he’s about to die from the sheer cringe of saying that, a blush flooding across his cheeks, but at the same time – it feels kinda good to say. Goofily so, and very embarrassing, but still.
If anything, Taehyung’s beam intensifies. “Then my job here is done! I should hit the road anyways, I wanna get back home. I promised my parents I’d make them something nice for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Sure you don’t wanna stay over?” Glancing out the window, taking in how dark it is, Jungkook feels bad to be sending Taehyung out on the road at this time.
The other man snickers. “And get in the way of a beautiful thing? Nah. Besides, you know I like driving at night, and it’s only a little over three hours. I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so…” Jungkook snags the painting off of the floor, and together they walk through the Gallery, to the doors Taehyung had locked behind them when they entered. He unlocks them now, and they leave the aesthetically pleasing space, spilling out into the chilly night air. As Taehyung locks up, Jungkook glances around, breathing in deeply. Now that he’s resolved himself, he actually feels – a little better. Steadier, as though his world isn’t about to jerk out from underneath his feet.
Their cars are parked together, and once there Taehyung flings himself at Jungkook – scrupulously avoiding hitting into the painting, of course – and they hug, Jungkook staggering under the weight of his friend. The fond affection is a fluffy, sleepy thing, and, with one hand wrapped around Taehyung’s shoulders, Jungkook repeats, “Thank you, TaeTae.” It’s not eloquent, but with Taehyung, it’s enough.
They break apart, and Taehyung is grinning, a wide, boxy affair that has the nostalgia and warmth growing. “I’ve missed you, Koo. I’m glad we got to meet up. Tell Y/N that I miss her too, okay? And that I wish her a Merry Christmas.”
“We’ll have to get together again soon; Y/N will be disappointed she missed you. Although I know she loved your blue hair, so she’ll probably be sad you changed it.” It had even surprised Jungkook a bit when Tae had first ducked out of his car. The blue had just been so… riveting, and compared to that, the darker tone really changes how he looks. Not to mention that Tae went with a curlier style this time around.
Taehyung runs a hand through his fluffy brown locks before shrugging. “I got bored. Besides, I haven’t had brown in, what? Five years? It was a nice change.”
“It’s a good look. Almost as good as mine,” Jungkook teases, and Taehyung laughs in his deep, rolling way. “Okay. Merry Christmas, TaeTae. And have a Happy New Year! Don’t drive into a ditch, but if you do, call me.”
“I’ll get you to drag the car out by yourself,” Taehyung agrees amiably. “You look like you could manage it these days, and it’d save me the cost of the tow-truck.”
He gives Jungkook’s upper arm a cheerful poke, whistles in exaggerated admiration and then dodges Jungkook’s swipe at him. “See you soon, Koo! I’ll send you a text when I get home. Hopefully you’ll be too busy to read it until tomorrow.” And with a wicked little giggle, he gets into his car.
“Bye, Tae! See you! Thank you!” Jungkook waves until the other man has pulled away, blasting an R&B version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, and then he gets into his own car. Being with Tae is like inhaling a warmer version of helium, all uplift and expansion. It suddenly occurs to Jungkook, with a little jolt, that he’s excited to get home.
No matter how scared he is, scared of the future and scared of the conversation ahead, picturing you, thinking of walking into the apartment and seeing your face, is enough to drive a sharp spike of joy through his trepidation. You are the best thing in his life, and even with this fight, even with the hurt still nestled against his ribs, he wouldn’t have drawn it any other way.
It’s as he’s starting the car that he realizes he got a text from Namjoon and didn’t notice. Hey Jungkookie. Can you let Y/N know we have her phone? She left it in the car.
He stares at the words, waiting for the moment when they’ll make sense. When sense is not forthcoming despite scrambling his brains for what it could mean, Jungkook types out a reply, his fingers sweaty with sudden anxiety.
what car? you saw Y/N today?
…Yeah? We dropped her off at the Gallery. Did she not mention it?
at the gallery?? when?
His heart is in his throat, the unease ricocheting to unprecedented levels, and Jungkook shoves open the car door, begins looking desperately around like you two could have possibly missed each other in the empty lot. When his phone vibrates thirty seconds later, he almost drops it in his haste to unlock it.
Thirty minutes ago. Around there. Is she not there? Is everything okay?
Jungkook rips his eyes from the screen to the empty parking lot and back to the screen, a bewildered trek that gives him no hints, and he doesn’t know the answer.
---
When you finally get back to the apartment, your hurt has become a cramped, flattened pressure at the back of your throat, and every breath scrapes painfully on the way out. It’s taken you close to two hours to get back. The first person you’d asked for directions had given you the wrong bus number, and while you’d realized it eventually, you’d been going the wrong way for a significant period of time.
Usually, you and Jungkook laugh at how bad your sense of direction is, but this is just more humiliation to stoke an already raging fire of shame. Your steps literally drag – you almost trip on your way up the stairs – and your fingers are tingling, almost numb. It’s gotten progressively colder as the night wore on, and by now the icy feeling has sunk deep into your bones, passed the hard exterior until its wrapped around the marrow.
You’d thought about checking into a hotel. You at least hadn’t forgotten or lost your credit card. There was something tempting about postponing the moment when you had to see Jungkook. But at the same time… If you didn’t answer your phone and didn’t come back, he might worry (would he worry?) and worse, he might get other people involved. What if he talked to Namjoon and Yoongi? Or phoned your parents or brother? You can’t stand the thought of having to explain to them what happened without any preparation – without even knowing what happened yourself.
So here you are, facing the door, empty-handed. You’d thrown out the fast-food at the first trashcan you’d come to after deciding to return. Would Jungkook be home by now? Had he finished with – was he done? Or was he still out there, still… You have to say it eventually, you try to tell yourself firmly, but your whole being cringes from making that acknowledgement, from putting it into syllables that might somehow trap it in reality. It’s not something you can manage tonight. You really don’t know what will be worse, him being inside or not, but you can’t just stand outside forever.
Forcing the key to the lock is no harder than flinging yourself off a cliff, and you approach it with the same amount of dry-mouth apprehension. Your hands are shaking so bad it’s hard to get them to align, but when you finally do, the click of the key sliding in is too loud, like its announcing that you’ve slunk back in shame to all of the apartment building inhabitants. A ridiculous notion, but you flinch anyways, heart seizing as your stiff fingers fumble with the little jiggle required to get the door to open. It takes you three attempts, your anxiety growing, and when you finally manage it, you’re so strung out with tension that you don’t hesitate. You just fling the door open and stumble through.
Straight into Jungkook.
For just a second, it feels like the magnetism you learned about in school. For just a second you fall into him like there’s nothing else in the world more natural than falling, and for just a second you press against his chest and feel dizzy with the light, clean scent that surrounds you. For just a second, as he catches your weight and closes his arms around you, calling your name with a voice of choked relief, you let yourself forget.
For just a second.
And then reality floods back in, a tainted torrent of regret and grief, strewn with rage and humiliation that drifts just below the surface. Though you’re so unsteady you can barely see, your lungs blocked and battling to heave in enough air just to keep breathing, you struggle to get away from him.
“Let go of me,” you say, dry and curt, and when his arms only tighten – more, you suspect, to keep you from pitching over than in denial of your demand – your efforts become harsher, more violent. Without room you can’t get any momentum to really push away from him, but your motions are frantic with the desire to do just that. There’s a panicked, screaming need to get away from him, to get enough space, like he’s the reason your lungs are crumpling in on themselves. “Let go, Jungkook!” you cry, your voice spiking up into shrillness, shattering the syllables of his name.
Like he’s been electrified, Jungkook jerks, his arms flying open. Instantly, let loose, you scramble away, down the entrance hallway. Just as off balance as he’d feared, you nearly trip over something long and cumbersome leaning against the wall that you’re too distraught to look at, and you have to windmill to catch your balance. A moment later you slam your shoulder into the corner of the wall as you try to take the turn too sharply. “Y/N, please, stop!” you hear, and wish you hadn’t. Barely registering the sharp throb in your shoulder, you catch yourself and keep going. Seconds later you’re in the bedroom, and you slam the door shut.
It doesn’t have a lock. Putting your back to the door, your air rattling hollowly out of your mouth – too fast, too shallow, but you can’t seem to calm down – you slide down the solid surface. Pulling your knees to your chest, you rest your forehead against them, eyes tightly closed, still gasping. Your eyes are aching, but you can’t cry against the immense pressure of overwhelming panic. There’s just a stinging sensation and a pulsing rigidity in your face, like each and every muscle there has chosen to stage a personal rebellion at the exact same time.
I can’t, I can’t, oh God, please, I can’t do this I can’t look at him I can’t I –
“Y/N?” Jungkook sounds like he’s directly on the other side of the door, but he makes no attempt to open it. “Baby, please, are you okay?”
His voice is so raw with worry that it’s red. The colour blooms across your closed eyelids, swathes of crimson and scarlet, and you imagine that it’s blood, trickling from the wound inside of you. You can barely tell where your back ends and the door begins, like any moment you might slide through it, or maybe through the floor, or through the ground, or maybe you’re already there, floating in nothing, and the red breaks into jagged pieces of black and orange and you still can’t breathe.
“Y/N? Can you talk to me? Just – say something, okay? Just so I know you’re okay.”
You can’t even manage that. Even if you wanted to. Even if he deserved to know. Throat moving convulsively, you choke out a sob but nothing else comes after. Just wheezing breaths, and you think you’re shaking but you’re somewhere outside of your skin so it’s hard to tell.
“Okay, okay. I’m – I’m gonna be here, okay? Right here. If you need me, I’m here.” Even through the hazy distortion swamping you, Jungkook’s clear, resonant voice comes through. Maybe it’s the concern, too heavy to be swept away by the raging panic. Maybe it’s the compassion, too anchored in you to be broken away by the tremendous pressure.
Or maybe you just know Jungkook’s voice so well that even your disassociation can’t make it unfamiliar to you.
“You’re doing good, Y/N. I’m still here. Just on the other side of this door.” A pause, a deep chasm of silence, and then he continues. “I think it’s a panic attack. I know it’s scary, but it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Later, you will be both annoyed and touched that Jungkook realized you were having a panic attack before you did. You’ve had a few throughout university, but none within the past year or two, and in the moment, you’d been too overwhelmed to identify what’s going on. The insight is helpful though, something to cling to and repeat to yourself. A grounding. It’s a panic attack. You’re going to be okay.
Jungkook keeps talking, slow and steady. Nothing serious. Just words. You lean on his voice just as hard as you’re leaning on the door, and, slowly but surely, in a stretch of time that doesn’t mean anything to you, the constrictive bands across your chest loosen. You sink back into yourself. The tips of your fingers make sense again.
And you start crying.
“Y/N? How’re you feeling?”
Funny. Now, with your throat something other than a fist and pain, you still struggle to say anything. This is a softer kind of crying, not quite quiet, with little, hiccupping gasps as the tears run down your face. Possible to speak through. You just don’t know what to say to the man who just talked you, with kindness and compassion, through a panic attack. Who cheated on you. Your fingertips might make sense, but nothing else does.
“I – Y/N, baby, I get that you’re upset, but I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.” So anguished. Why did he have to sound like that? What right did he have?
You don’t know if it’s outrage or bewilderment or grief or pity that has you answering. Is it possible to have all of them in your mouth, gritty across your tongue? At any rate, your tone is as washed out as you feel, fatigued and grey. “I saw, Jungkook,” you whisper to your knees.
There’s silence on the other side of the door. Denial? Guilt? His reply is sluggish, thick with confusion. “You saw what?”
That makes you laugh – or not really, though the tortured sound was supposed to be one. “I was there. At the Golden Closet Gallery.” Will he really keep pretending after he knows you were there? Could he really be that brazen? The Jungkook you know couldn’t. There’s no way he could carry a lie like that, holding it effortlessly in the face of the truth. The Jungkook you know would blush, shuffle, collapse like a house of cards. He’s really not good at lying.
The answer isn’t a lie, but it confuses you all the same. “I know you were. Namjoon texted me to say he’d dropped you off, but – Where did you go? I – I drove around for like an hour trying to find you, and I couldn’t and when I got home you weren’t here…” The stream of words dies out like Jungkook can’t quite find any more to say, or maybe he’s embarrassed to say them.
When your reply isn’t forthcoming, confusion churning up anything you might spit out, he continues, more subdued. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you after what you just went through, I just– Are– How are you feeling? Was it – did something happen while you were getting here? Is that what took so long?” Another pause that you can’t fill, that stretches on and on as you try to understand what he’s talking about. How he can apologize for that and not the actual offense.
Abruptly his voice bursts out. “Why won’t you talk to me!?” Tighter and more uncertain than you’ve heard tonight. Maybe more afraid than you’ve ever heard him.
It rips at your heart, and you realize in a swell of furious sorrow that you can’t stand to hear him sound like that. With a sudden, unstable surge, you get to your feet. Immediately your vision falters a bit, and you stagger, but catch yourself before you fall, clinging to the doorknob. You take a deep breath, fighting away the residual nausea and light-headedness. It clears within a few seconds, and your hand tightens on the knob as you take a deep breath. You can’t just leave him standing out there. You can’t just leave this incomprehensible thing hanging in the frame between your two lives.
You open the door. Slowly. Reluctantly. But you open it.
His long black hair is a wild mess, pushed back from his forehead, strands sticking up here and there. Even as you inch the door open, he runs his hand through it, ruffling it even further. His shirt is wrinkled, only partially tucked in, one sleeve rolled to bare his forearm, the other slipped down almost all the way. With his jaw so tense it’s a wonder he’s not cracking his teeth, Jungkook stares at you, lips set and pale. He doesn’t look like someone who committed a betrayal only hours before; if anything, the anguished panes of his face speak to a betrayal committed against him.
You’re so, so tired. Too tired to grasp at the outrage that wisps at the edge of your consciousness. Sniffling to clear your throat, you wipe at your face, trying make yourself a little less pitiful. “I was at the Gallery, Jungkook. I saw you,” you repeat because it’s still so hard to think of anything to say. When his expression doesn’t change – unless his eyebrows furrow, just a little, in innocent perplexity – you exhale. “I saw you with that guy. I saw you…”
“That guy? Who do you–” Jungkook breaks off, examines you more closely, like you’ve given him something to be concerned about. “Are you talking about Taehyung?”
The name is startling in its sheer unexpectedness. What the hell did Jungkook’s best friend have to do with any of this? “Taehyung? No, I’m not talking about Taehyung. I’m talking about that guy you were with tonight, in the Gallery. The guy you–” The words catch, but only for a second. You push them through with a surge of vehement exasperation for the blank expression he’s wearing. “The guy you kissed!”
In another place, the nonplused spasm across his face would have been hilarious. As it is, it just heightens your frustration, and the way he starts sputtering does absolutely nothing to reduce it. Even when he finally gets himself together and manages to talk, your aggravation is here to stay.
Right next to your mortification, as it happens.
“I didn’t– Y/N, that guy at the Gallery was Tae! Could you not tell it was him? I know he has brown hair now, but…” Jungkook shakes his head, flipping his own hair back. The tension seems to have slipped from his jaw, at least a little, and it might very well have crept into yours. “Is that– Is that what this whole thing has been about? You thought I did something with some random guy?” His lips twitch, and it doesn’t seem like he can decide if he wants to smile or scowl, and you feel the beginning of a flush heating up your face.
“It was Taehyung! And I didn’t kiss him. I mean, he tried to kiss me but it was just to–” Abruptly there’s a wash of faint scarlet crawling up his cheeks – cheeks that are rounder than they were a second ago, as he looks down and away, gaze slipping from you for the first time since you opened the door.
“Just to what?” you demand, the challenge extra belligerent to make up for the belated shock of suspended relief that hangs like smoke over your head. Too intangible for you to catch with your hands right now, though present enough to burn your throat with its sooty possibility.
He’s still looking at the ground, the blush becoming more prominent, and he begins to shift, the rustle of his dress pants loud in the fraught silence. “Um,” Jungkook begins awkwardly, head ticking to the side the way it always does when he regrets saying something or doubts his ability to do something. “It’s just, uh… he was helping me.”
“Helping you.”
Jungkook winces at your deadpan echo. “Yeah. I, um, asked him to…” Hands drumming on his thighs, drawing your attention for a second before you snap back to his flushed face, Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet. “Uh… This is totally not how I planned this,” he mumbles, before hauling his gaze up to meet your own. “Hold on for a sec, okay? I just want to grab something.” For all that he’s definitely lightened a bit, the request is tinged with urgent appeal, his eyes scouring your face hesitantly like he’s afraid you’re going to retreat back to the room the moment he loses sight of you.
You’re not entirely sure that isn’t going to happen, but there have been so many emotional upheavals today you’ve just about exhausted your ability to feel more defensiveness. The more Jungkook speaks – the longer you’re in his presence – the more the sheer impossibility of what you’d believed is sinking in. He’s just – he’s Jungkook. Such a focal point of light and energy, such a reserve of easily offered comfort in a form so much more substantial than words. Somehow – maybe because of his prolonged absences, maybe because of your staggeringly challenging day – you’d managed to forget just what he is, but it’s in front of you now, demanding to be seen and acknowledged against the backdrop of what you’d thought. What had seemed so possible, even an hour ago, suddenly seems ridiculous when set next to the quiet solidity of him, of everything he is.
Wiping again at eyes that haven’t ceased watering yet, you nod.
He hurries away, down the short hallway and back towards the front entrance. You hear a thump, a muttered curse, a short dragging noise, and then Jungkook rounds the corner, hefting a rectangular object covered in brown paper. When you examine it more closely, you’re pretty sure it’s what you almost fell over when you ran inside. By the time he’s standing in front of you, the unwieldy item put on the ground and balanced against his knee, you’re pretty sure you know what it is by the shape and packaging alone.
And somewhere, in the back of your mind, you’re beginning to make connections. About Taehyung and the art gallery and the thing on the ground in front of you.
Jungkook just speeds up the process. “I was gonna wrap it in something nicer,” he offers apologetically, “but I was… Baby, I was so scared when Namjoon said you should have been at the gallery and I couldn’t find you and you weren’t at home. I thought – hell, I didn’t know what to think. That you got kidnapped or something.” He laughs, that shaky sound of amusement reserved for disasters that are absurd to imagine until they actually happen, and you shift, the heat crowding your face growing.
With a slight roll of his shoulders, he nudges the brown-wrapped object. “Anyways… Tae was helping me get this. For, um, you. Because I thought you might like it.” When you make no move to grab it, his eyebrows knit together. “Y/N? I swear, I didn’t do anything with anyone else. I wouldn’t do anything with–”
“I know.” You cut him off, unable to bear the imploring tone. It’s impossible to meet his beseeching gaze with the burden of your stupidity weighing on you, and you keep your eyes on your fingers. “I know you didn’t. Jungkook, I’m…” The winded feeling is still lingering, a hollowness in your lungs, and you have to inhale deeply just to remind yourself you can. Your anger at being abandoned by Jungkook for work died out so long ago it might as well be a relic, and with the betrayed grief swept so thoroughly out of your stomach, you’re left feeling strangely empty of anything but guilt.
“I’m so sorry. I – God, I’m so stupid. I saw you two and I thought – I assumed…” All of the logic that had founded your incorrect assumption is trickling through your grasping fingers, and you don’t know how to explain in a way that makes sense. In a way that justifies how you’d leapt to conclusions.
“I’m sorry,” you continue unevenly. “I just…”
“It’s okay.” When you keep staring down, Jungkook moves closer, reaches out, tentatively puts his arm around you. Light enough that you could break away if you wanted to. You don’t. You absolutely don’t.
The contact feels like an anchor, pulling you ever closer to reality. Making the trembling relief that much more real. The embarrassment, too. “Really Y/N, it’s – I know today has been…” After a moment he sighs, faint and low, shaking his head. “Today has sucked so bad, and Christmas isn’t supposed to be like this. I get why you thought what you did. After everything that’s been happening, after I’ve – I haven’t been around.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” is your whispered protest, still unable to look at him. “I should have just talked to you.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that would have saved us both a bit of panic. But Y/N…” He waits, waits longer, until you’re forced to bring your eyes up. Meeting the dark softness of his gaze summons up more guilt, more regret – but also a clear, undeniable relief. Light at the end of a pitch black tunnel. You’re not out of the darkness, but with those sympathetic eyes on you, you have a sense of striving. Like taking a step, and then another, is possible. And might just be worth it.
“Y/N, baby, it’s not all your fault. It’s on me too.” His arms are resting lightly on your shoulders, fingers gently rubbing across the nape of your neck. “I haven’t talked with you enough. Kept just pushing it off, pretending it’s okay.” When he laughs softly, his breath tickles your face. “Not quite okay, hey?”
Your strained giggle isn’t heartfelt, and it fades quickly. “In the car, when Namjoon and Yoongi gave me a ride, they said – It seems like work has really, really sucked. More than I thought it did.” You lean back, just a bit, his arms a steady support against your back, and search his face. He’s biting his cheek, little lines skittering across his forehead. This close, the dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced, his skin sallower than it should be. He looks tired, but he doesn’t look away from you.
“Jungkook,” you say quietly. “How bad is it?”
Something flickers behind his eyes, a shadow of his normal reserve. You can feel the tightness in his body, the slight tremor that suggests he’s about to move away. The protective distance he clings to when he doesn’t want to worry you rears up – and you kill it with your hand, trembling only slightly as you tenderly trace your fingers along his temple, down his cheekbone, to cup the strong lines of his jaw. “Please, Jungkook. Tell me.”
The admission comes, fast and breathless, like he needs to get the words out before his teeth clench over them. “Bad. It’s bad. I hate it there.”
“Oh. I–” This is a different kind of pain from most of what you’ve been feeling today. More selfless, an anguish that extends and expands outward instead of curling up. “I’m so sorry. Kookie, I didn’t know. I should have but–”
“I didn’t tell you. How could you know?”
“I should have,” you insist.
His mouth quirks, a flash of teeth showing in mild amusement. “You can’t expect me to know you’re upset, but you should know when I am? I don’t think it works that way, babe.” When your mouth opens to object, Jungkook pulls you to his chest, cutting off your protest. You sink into his embrace, boneless and aching and grateful for the support, and if the gift’s hard frame weren’t digging into your leg, it would almost be perfect.
Perfect enough.
Pressing your face against his shirt, you feel him kiss the top of your head, arms still wrapped firmly around your shoulders. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispers.
“I’m glad you told me about work,” you mumble into his chest, reluctant to draw away. “If I told you to quit today, would you?” You’re not really joking, even though you know what the immediate answer has to be. You don’t have enough savings for one of you to quit without any other prospects lined up.
“Actually…” There’s something restrained in his voice, teetering on the edge of anxiety, or maybe excitement.
Shock has you looking up, resisting the comforting pull of his warmth for a moment. “You did!?”
“Oh, uh, no,” Jungkook says hurriedly, biting at his lower lip. Far from pleasure, the reassurance has disappointment funneling into your heart, funds be damned. To say that Jungkook’s job was the mother of all evils would probably be both unfair and exaggerated, but if it’s making him (and you) as miserable as he says...
“It sounds really bad, Jungkook. Killing yourself trying to please a bunch of jerks isn’t worth it.”
“You’re right.” He’s smiling now, smiling completely, showing off his teeth. “I don’t know if I can keep working for them for much longer, but… Ah, I was so scared to talk about this, and here you are, making it easy!” In his excitement, he’s playing with your hair, hands restless as they dance around. For once, the mystery isn’t extended. “Namjoon wants to break off. Start a new company, one that’s not an absolute dumpster fire to work for. He’s got several other people lined up who are happy to go, and Yoongi, obviously, and he asked me if I would join, too!”
“Is that why they gave me a ride?” Even as you demand it, you can feel yourself picking up on Jungkook’s energy. Not too much – the exhaustion sucking at your bones won’t allow it – but still, the lightness in your chest is a far cry from the sodden despair that’s taken up space there for most of the day.
Your boyfriend jiggles his head back and forth. “I dunno. Maybe. But I think mostly they did it because they’re pretty nice people.” He sounds a bit awed as he continues. “We can’t start for a couple more months – Namjoon said something about getting funding from some rich guy, Bang Sihyuk – but I still can’t believe they want me to come along. I mean, some of the people are, like, the best there are, Y/N.” You can almost see stars shining in his eyes.
Your response is firm, albeit playful. “So, it makes perfect sense that they’re having you join! Kookie, you’re gonna fit in so well, because you’re one of the best, too.” And honestly, you’re not even just shovelling empty praise; Jungkook is a truly talented artist in his medium.
His smile grows, eyes thinning with happiness. “And – you’re okay with it? There aren’t any guarantees that it will work out, with it being a new company.”
The trials of the day – mostly made from your own mind, though no less difficult for all of that – pass through your head. The loneliness and anger and sadness. All of it dimmed if not gone entirely, simply because here you are in his arms, speaking to each other instead of covering your hurt up. “Jungkook, one of the few guarantees I have of anything is that I love you, and you love me. If you’ll be happy working with Namjoon, with moving companies, then that’s all I need to hear.”
With a low hum, Jungkook sweeps you into another hug, and you’re glad to give up what space is between you two. Enfolded in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, is about the securest place you can imagine being. “I love you,” he says, voice thick with the truth of what he’s saying.
“I love you, too. Thank you. Thank you so much for everything.”
“I haven’t even given you your presents yet. Here –” And you’re breaking apart again – although not really, because you can still feel the connection as a thin warmth snuggled beneath your ribs – and Jungkook bends down, picks up the item sandwiched between you two. “Feel up to opening it?”
“The mystery gift that almost broke our relationship? Yeah, I’m up to it.”
Nose scrunching, he hands it over, and in your haste to see what’s inside, you make short work of the brown packaging. You can’t honestly say you’re surprised with the first glimpse of the mahogany frame – you expected a painting – but as more of the brown rips away, you feel shivery awe cascading down your spine. Once the painting is completely uncovered, you clutch it with sweaty palms, well aware of how precious a gift you’ve been given. You’d recognize the style anywhere.
“Jungkook,” you breathe, “oh my God, Jungkook, this is one of Ayeong’s, isn’t it? You – you actually got one of her paintings!?”
The quality is unmistakable. It’s a detailed piece, zoomed in on a small, dilapidated house. Almost everything about the house is bleak; the colours are all dull greys, blacks and browns, the porch is crumbling, and the shutters over the windows are chipped and cracked in places. However, right in the center of the house, taking up a good portion of the painting, is a door flung wide open, and the inside is flooded with warm colours and details in stark contrast with the exterior. There are people inside, crowded around the entrance, laughing and vibrant, and they dominate the doorway with their collective presence. One person, the only one who is looking outward, has her hand raised in greeting, as though inviting the viewers in.
“It’s called Homecoming.”
Soft and reverent, the name feels like an echo, a reverberation of your hopes and fears, and against a suddenly blurry vision, you smile. “It’s beautiful! It’s so, so beautiful. Thank you, Jungkook.”
“Do you feel like opening the rest of our presents? Or should we wait until tomorrow? We can grab your phone in the morning, too.”
Your fatigue drags at you, overwhelming even your hunger, but you try to rally, lifting your chin up. “What do you want to do? Do you want to open a present?”
His head tilts as he looks you over, a quick assessment. “I don’t have to. It’ll be nice to look forward to it later.” You’re absolutely positive he’s saying that for your sake, and it makes you just that closer to crying in gratitude for what’s in front of you.
Swallowing hard, you suggest, “How about tomorrow, then? We can…” You pause, scrambling for the memory, and then grin tiredly. “We can reset. Start over tomorrow.”
Jungkook’s laugh washes over you in cozy tides of amusement. “Now there’s a great idea. Whoever thought of it is a genius.”
With a chuckle, you carefully set the painting to the side, planning on figuring out where to put it tomorrow. As soon as it leaves your hands, Jungkook is there again, claiming the free territory. His grip firm and warm, he asks you, “Do you wanna eat? Or maybe nap for a bit?”
Your panic attacks always leave you drained, and the fact that Jungkook remembers is just another fond ache to add to the collection in your chest. “Nap,” you reply gratefully. “But… do you wanna lie down with me? Just for a bit?”
He couldn’t have looked any more solemn, or any more beautiful, if he’d tried. Squeezing your hand, he says, “I’d lie with you forever, if I could get away with it.” A second later the somber façade breaks apart, leaving a blush and a squirming, quietly giggly Jungkook.
With a snort, you pull him along with you, into the bedroom, a tightness across your chest that has everything to do with just how much you love the man next to you. “Now I know you were with Taehyung.” That makes you remember, and as you both walk to the bed, you glance at him, narrowing your eyes. “Are you going to tell me what Taehyung almost kissing you had to do with helping you out?”
As expected, his blush grows, painting his cheeks with a pale pink, but he surprises you by pulling you closer. With a hand under your chin, the other arm wrapped around your waist, he tilts your head up. Meeting your eyes with a tenderness that floods you with reassurance, he brushes a thumb along your lips, leaving a tingling trail. When it comes, his voice is hoarser than before, firmer. “He was trying to teach me something I already know.”
And then his mouth is on yours, steady and certain. Your lips soften against him, and time becomes languid, moving by the count of each breath that flutters against your lips. Jungkook isn’t demanding, not tonight; he kisses you sweetly, gently, conveying everything that he hasn’t managed to put into words. His body has a gravitational pull all its own, drawing you closer, and you skim your hands against his back, relishing the powerful certainty of his shoulders and the intimate confidence of his mouth on yours.
A second later, he sweeps you off your feet, and you gasp in surprise, breaking off the kiss. Jungkook places you on the bed, stands looking down at you with unmasked adoration. You open your arms, a wordless invitation that unwittingly bares the front of your top. His eyes fix on it, and if anything, they soften.
“I like your sweater,” he comments quietly, and as you laugh, he climbs onto the bed with you.
You take off the sweater in question, and your jeans and bra, easy and unhesitant in his presence. He follows suit, and then grabs your pajamas, placed as they always are at the foot of the bed. You wiggle into them, and for his part, Jungkook just throws on a pair of loose pants. The feeling of familiarity sinks into your system like a sigh of contentment, and when he pulls you against his chest, you snuggle into the embrace.
Wrapped in his arms, the smooth warmth of his skin pressed against your cheek, you let the drowsy bliss sweep over your body, and you relax, sinking against the sheets even as you curl closer to him.
Jungkook’s voice ripples against your mind, a soothing undercurrent taking you closer to sleep. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas,” you mumble. With one last faltering effort, you say, “Jungkook?”
“Hmm?” You feel the inquiring murmur just as much as you hear it, a smooth hum on your cheek.
“Thank you for coming home.”
#thebtswritersclub#networkbangtan#jungkook x reader#jungkook#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#bts fic#bts fanfiction#my fic
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Riddler hug/cuddling Headcanons
so like. no excuse for this, its pure self indulgence but tbh id kinda like a hug so im imagining how these nerds might give me one.
warning, i got very carried away with writing.
Arkham !Riddler
oh boy arkham riddler REALLY needs a hug. he is probably the most touch starved of all the riddlers, definitely the most clingy. he is too afraid of being hurt, physically or emotionally, to be the one to initiate the hug and if you come to him he will absolutely fight it. at the start anyway.
he’s going to cry if you give him a decent hug. he’s been so high strung for so long that a simple touch like that is going to send him overboard.
it starts off with him a stiff as a board, tense incase he needs to run away. but once he realises you wont hurt him he’ll start to relax a little, he usually crosses his arms across your back, under your arms rather than over. he also likes to rest his head in the crook of your neck.
like i said, he’ll probably cry at some point, so he becomes tense again as his shoulders shake, he starts to dig his hands into your back for fear you’ll let go. he keeps burying his head into your neck/shoulder so you cant see how red his face and eyes have gotten. he’s embarrassed to be like this over a hug, especially around you.
after that he will always be in your space. he’ll want to lie across you on the sofa, sit in his lap/ him sit in your lap while he works on his computer and he literally cannot sleep at night unless you have at least one arm draped across his back ( but preferably let him curl up in your arms completely )
he’s quite boney tbh. when you hug him you can feel his ribs and spine, he really likes to press his entire body to yours. He also hugs quite hard so don't be surprised if you lose your balance when he runs to you.
Blacklight! Riddler
blacklight riddler used to be like arkham riddler, he was touch starved and desperate for affection. But unlike arkham riddler, he actually receives hugs on a regular basis.
He’s around 5ft8 so he is a great height for giving and receiving hugs. if you are smaller than him he likes to rest his head on top of your head , maybe give optional head smooches while hes at it. if you're taller than him he likes to press his face into your chest/neck, especially if this is a comforting hug. Your scent is calming to him
he hugs kinda weird. its always one arm over your shoulder and one under your arm. He also likes to sneak up on you, rest his chin on your shoulder while he’s hugging you. strange but at least they're warm and soft.
i've mentioned before he likes to sleep in people's laps, but he enjoys being big spoon just as much as little spoon. he likes having people sit between his legs but he is very fidgety, don't expect it to last for long.
he’s not clingy persay, but he does love sharing space with people. hes a “give them an inch and they’ll take a mile” kind of person when it comes to personal space.
the only time he doesn't like hugs (rare as that is) is when he’s having a meltdown/implosion. SOMETIMES he likes deep pressure to calm himself but it should really come from something like a T-jacket or a weighted blanket. if you touch him when he’s like that it’ll just stress him out more. just use your words and give him some space. Later, when hes calm or if he’s feeling embarrassed about having a meltdown/implosion somewhere people can see him, that's the time he’ll want comfort.
BTAS! Riddler
this riddler is a bit touch adversed. he usually tolerates hugs in a social setting but just about. other people touching him, particularly people he doesn't know well , sets his teeth on edge.
its different with people he knows, however. he’s very casual with his hugs, and very happy to have You in his personal bubble. even if its just tossing an arm around your waist or shoulder as you walk, its nice to be near a comforting presence like you are to him. he’s fond of hugs that don't close you both in, even though he can usually see over the top of you, it makes him feel claustrophobic
hes pretty tall, you’d be hard pressed to be level with him so he usually hugs by putting his arms around your shoulders, maybe crossing his wrists at the back of your neck. as he is so tall, most peoples hugs on him will probably be around the waist. don't be surprised if he bends down to give you a quick peck or head bump while you're hugging him.
Its sometimes hard for him to spoon given he is quite tall, but he doesn't really mind what position you maneuver into to give him cuddles. he likes to rest against people while sitting on a sofa or lie with his head on your shoulder in bed
He gives good comforting hugs, he’s naturally very warm both in personality and temperature . lots of “oh darling dry those eyes” or “there there my love” with head pats and soft cooing . he wont even complain if you mess up his suit by balling your hands in the fabric or crying all over his sleeves. and he REALLY likes his suits.
can be a little patronising with the head pats but honestly, he is a gentle giant type guy, he doesn't mean to be rude, everyone is just so small compared to him he cant help but treat them like kids sometimes.
Original!Riddler
another tall lad, but he’s like one of those big dogs who doesn't know he’s big. He is friend shaped, gives excellent hugs that are very warm and all encompassing. you would feel very safe getting a hug from this riddler
the only danger is being squished a little. sometimes he doesn't quite know his own strength when it comes to hugs.he’s particularly bad at this while cuddling in bed. if he’s half asleep and you try to move away, he might reflexively latch on and inadvertently hurt you in the process. the utter horror of thinking he’s hurt you is enough to make him not want to be near you for a few days while he apologises profusely .
he is very lanky, his hugs can wrap all the way around you until his arms are nearly touching him on the other side. only a small risk of being suffocated.
he likes it when his partner jumps for him, into a hug so he can catch them and spin them in his arms. no idea why, guess he’s just a dramatic dance kid at heart. he also prefers to be little spoon with a special fondness for partners who completely wrap themselves around him like a warm, scenintient backpack
likes lying under a blanket on the sofa, his face pressed into your tummy with his arms around your back. you can use him as a table if you like, he wont mind. His back is always sore ( probably because he lies like this a lot) so he appreciates back rubs while hugging .
mooves around in his sleep too much to be constrained by cuddling. if you try and hold onto him it’ll either be like riding a bucking bull or trying to get out of quicksand, no inbetween. he sleeps like a dead man too so good luck waking him if you’re uncomfortable.
telltale! Riddler
hugs are few and far between. doesnt hug much, even at home. He likes to use hugs to show off or rather, show you off. he likes having some one pretty on his arm for casual, public cuddling as a power move.
has occasional nightmares about what SANTUS did to him and as a side effect of the LOTUS. this is one of the rare times he’ll tolerate and even expect to be held and cuddled by you. he needs something like the pressure from a good ,long hug to ground him back in reality, in the here and now.
in public he’s most likely to throw his arm around your waist or shoulder, quite possessive if i'm honest. he can be a little rough at times, gripping your shoulder or waist a little too hard when someone is pissing him off or making a move on you. he has left bruises but its never intentional. he’s a lot stronger than the average man and sometimes he forgets that.
in private he’s a little more relaxed. sometime he just likes to share space, like having your legs over him on the sofa. sometimes hes more demanding and wants you to sit in his lap with your arms draped over him.
He demands a lot of you, but never physical contact. if he wanted a hug he would simply stand and wait for you to initiate it. likewise, he’ll always ask for your permission before he comes into your space.
He likes to hug from behind and often picks you up off the ground, whatever way he’s hugging you. He likes to show off how strong he is despite being one of the shorter riddlers.
Zero year!Riddler
his idea of cuddling is resting a body part on you. he might stretch his legs over yours, intertwine them while sleeping or use you as a pillow while he reads. Hes not great at being big spoon tbh; if you want him to do much more than just chilling there and letting you do the work, youll need to tell him.
like btas riddler, he’s a human furnace. he just radiates heat all times of the year. good for warming up in the winter, bad for not sticking to one another in the summer. He’s basically a big cat. cuddles on his terms, paws at you when he wants something and pushes you away when he doesn't.
thinks he’s a smooth mfer when it comes to cuddling and spooning. has 100% done that old yawn, stretch and slide an arm around you thing that all teenagers think is the height of sophisticated moves. it only works sometimes though, more often than not he’ll simply huff and drag you towards him from the other side of the bed or sofa and demand hugs.
hes another tall riddler. he likes to use his height to his advantage by hugging you around your head so you cant escape. he also likes to have a hand on your head and one on your shoulder, sort of like he’s shielding you from something. it can be nice but sometimes, you do need to see where you're going.
he likes to press his face into your chest/breasts just for badness. he has large hands so he can almost wrap them around your sides and back at the same time for maximum squish. he doesn't often press his entire body into you while you hug but when he does, oh boy i hope you don't have plans. you wont be leaving for a while.
he likes to cuddle in weird places. like you might be riding the subway and he’ll sneakily link his arm with yours and rest his head on your shoulder. maybe you're eating dinner and he’s trying to twist your legs together with his. maybe you're minding your own business on the sofa, he’ll try to slip between you and the cushions so you're practically sitting on him instead.
OH BOY THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT. WOOPS THERE GOES THE ENTIRE DAY.
lmao i had fun so i guess it was time well spent.
got anymore headcanons you want to talk about? wana ask me something specific about riddler? hmu with an ask, im always happy to talk about our favorite curious menace💜💚
#riddler#edward nygma#edward nigma#the riddler#riddler headcanons#arkham riddler#arkham knight riddler#btas riddler#batman the animated series#btas#arkham knight#blacklight riddler#blacklight au#original riddler#telltale riddler#zero year riddler#my stuff#my art#my headcanons#headcanons
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For Victor: 2nd Entry
I’d like to dedicate this work to @sayumiht, a co-Victor stan who made this suggestion. Hope you like it. <3
Subtle Jealousy
Victor is a serious guy. As a CEO, he exudes intimidating and powerful aura wherever he goes. You can probably say everyone fears respects him. That includes her. But it was only at first.
MC still has high respect for Victor as a boss and investor of her company but things were different now. Before, she was as intimidated and fazed to the CEO of LFG like everyone else. That maybe he was just all business and nothing else. He wouldn’t waste time on nonsensical things especially if it won’t bring him any good or benefit. But now... she doesn’t feel that gap anymore.
It‘s probably because she's the object of his hidden affections and love. At first, he was indeed annoyed and mad at her for doing things wrong or talking back to him. He couldn’t tolerate such behavior. With her though, that he changed. He tried to be more patient and accept such changes to his once constant and uneventful life.
Victor admits he suppressed his feelings for her because he had a promise to fulfill for someone in his past. Who would’ve thought that the person he searched for the longest time was her all along?
The people closest to Victor know he isn’t a vocal person. He never really tells what he’s feeling. No matter who it was. That is until he admitted all his feelings to MC after confirming she also felt the same.
He was adamant to confessing first. It wasn’t because of pride or fear of being rejected. Victor considered her side and what she’d feel if that situation was to happen. Him telling her what he truly felt which was out of his character and her being put in a tight spot. He knew of all people how kind the girl he fell in love was. If anything, she’d give a dumb face out of surprise but in the end smile.
But Victor also thought how it would be in her shoes. He wasn’t the one who’d be dealing with a confession from him. It was her. She’ll have the burden choice whether she’ll accept or reject it. And depending on her decision, she’ll have to face the corresponding repercussions. He was well aware being linked to him meant the scrutiny of the public and everyone at work.
Luckily, she felt the same and they got together. After all those years of waiting, Victor is finally with her. Although there were slight changes after being in a relationship, one thing hasn’t change: he was still unable to convey what he felt into words properly.
Victor: What are you doing? You’ve been texting on your phone for quite awhile now. Don’t even think about complaining to me that you’re feeling dizzy or your head hurts later.
MC is currently on her way to work together with Victor in his car.
MC: Almost done. I’m currently talking to Professor Lucien and asking his advice about the current program we’re doing.
Considering the field of work, Victor understood MC had to meet and talk to different people everyday. Even he had the same thing going on. But he can’t help but feel a sudden distaste upon hearing another man’s name. He kept his eyes on the road but had a change in mood instantly.
Victor: Professor Lucien? You could’ve just come to me for advice.
MC: Huh? Should I ask advice from you regarding a neuroscience topic for a show? You’re being a bit weird today, Mr. CEO. The topic is Professor Lucien’s specialty. Plus I heard from Goldman you have a very busy schedule these past few days so I wouldn’t want to bother you with such matter. It’s all taken care of. Don’t worry.
The girl explained it to him but for some reason that even he couldn’t explain, he was silently becoming more and more irritated. With the looks of it, everyone at work will be his outlet.
Victor: Can you tell me what this is?
Victor said while looking sharply at the department heads. He was already in a foul mood after what happened while going to work and as much as he didn’t want to vent his annoyance to his subordinates, they weren’t being any help.
Department head 1: Sir it’s... we’ll revise the report as soon as possible.
Department head 2: We’re very sorry about this, Sir.
Victor: As you should. Get back to work. You’re all dismissed. Send me the revised report through email by the end of the day.
This wasn’t a great day at all. Victor was used to having tons of work and meetings but today particularly, he felt stressed and fatigued.
Goldman: Sir, MC called and just informed she’d be cancelling her meeting with you today. She said there was a sudden event invitation from her alma mater that she needed to attend to.
For one, Victor didn’t believe in luck. But why did it seem like he was quite unlucky today? He pinched the bridge of his nose before asking his secretary if there were still things he needed to attend to for the day.
Goldman: The last on your schedule for the day is with Miss MC, Sir. Since she cancelled, should we have the teleconference with A Company moved this afternoon instead?
The supposed meeting with MC was business related and her giving him a report but he also considers moments like that as some time off from his busy schedule. But now...
Victor: Don’t change anything. We’ll proceed to having the teleconference as scheduled. I’ll take my leave early so have the car ready.
Goldman was surprised the CEO would leave work very early which was unlike him but he didn’t say a word and did as he was told.
Seeming as to how he’s becoming more and more restless, Victor decided to give her a call. What happened next made him feel like he’s been soaked with freezing cold water.
Gavin: Hello, you’ve called MC’s phone. This is Gavin. I’m taking the call for her since she went for the restroom and left her phone with me. What’s...
Without hearing any further, Victor ended the call. It was rude and very unlike him to do have such behavior considering his professionalism and objective way of doing things but this...
Goldman: Sir, aren’t you going to Loveland High to meet Miss MC?
Victor: Change of plans. I’m tired. Go straight home.
Victor was sure MC wasn’t doing anything unfaithful or of the likes behind his back but what was it he was feeling? It was very unpleasant and foreign to him that he just couldn’t explain.
After reaching his home, Victor did his usual routines and finally rested on the sofa. He wasn’t fond of watching television but since his girlfriend produced tv shows... he bought a tv for the living area. Opening the tv, the program on was an interview with a famous superstar.
Interviewer: I see. This is a question many of your fans are curious about. Can we know what our favorite superstar’s future dream projects are?
Kiro: I think I’ve been able to do many projects thanks to my management and fans. But now, I really really want to have a project produced by MC. MC if you’re listening lets do a program together.
So even this young superstar knows his girlfriend. At this point, he wasn’t surprised. Coming to his senses, Victor thought this was normal. She was a producer earning her own reputation in the industry. He should be happy and proud about it and yet... he can’t keep his emotions in check.
Turning off the tv, Victor let out a sigh. He was lost in thought. Why was he feeling this way? He opened his phone thoughtlessly and flashed was his wallpaper. It was a picture of him and her the day they became official.
The picture was rather candidly taken to say the least. They were both wet after what happened in the pool but because of happiness and the effect of alcohol, she insisted on taking that photo on his phone. It was a selfie of MC’s tipsy self smiling while Victor instead of looking to the camera, had a look of tenderness in his eyes directed to her. There was no doubt that was the happiest day of his life.
With all the things that happened, Victor dozed off on the couch. He woke up to a warm hand intertwined to his.
MC: Victor, you’re up. Sorry... Did I wake you?
Victor: It’s fine. I think I dozed off for a while. What time is it?
MC: It’s 9 pm. I’m sorry about suddenly cancelling our meeting earlier. That was wrong of me. I promise to make up for it by doing whatever you want!
Victor: Dummy, you’re being too loud. It’s already late.
MC: Seems like Mr. CEO is back to his usual self after a good nap on the sofa. You still looked formal while sleeping though. Just a little less intimidating? Hope your back isn’t aching. I did want to wake you and bring you to bed but you seemed so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb your precious rest.
Victor: Idiot. You were apologizing just now for cancelling a meeting and here you are now blabbering about nonsense.
MC: !
Victor: You said you’d make up for it by doing whatever I want. I want you to just listen to to me and not say anything. I’ll only say or be like this once so listen carefully. Being with you made me into a dummy. You always smile and find meaning in the simplest of things. You’re kind to the point that you’ll unknowingly be taken advantage of. You complain about gaining weight but still heartily eat my cooking. You’re most of the times scared but put on a brave face and stick to your decision until the end. You’re probably the epitome of contradiction to me in every possible way.
Before, I worried how things would be if I told you how I felt. You’d be the object of everyone’s eyes and criticisms. You’d be looked upon differently. The burden of being with me concerned me more than anything else. Who would’ve thought I worried for nothing. You were a dummy who was capable of handling herself without my help or anyone else’s.
You’re probably thinking why is Victor being very outspoken today and if it’s already the end of the world... I know what’s in an idiot’s head that’s why. I felt strange emotions today. At first I couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly but I think I figured it out. You may be all the things I’ve mentioned MC but you are my equal.
You are the only person who worries me and yet assures me everything is going to be alright. You are the balance in my life I never knew I needed until now.
I’m well aware of the fact that being with me has a lot of weight in it. Still you accepted me without hesitation. I’m sure this idiot will meet people... people far better than me and be fascinated by them. They’ll show or make her realize things I may not be able to. She has so much ahead of her and that I know very well more than anyone else. All I could ever do is wait for her and be the support she needs. She’ll stumble and cry but I hope she knows by the end of the day, she has me.
MC: I’m not sure if this is what I think it is but... is this Victor’s jealous side? Hmm...
Victor: Idiot. Think whatever you like. And didn’t I say you were only suppose to listen and not say a word?
[Author’s Note]: The lines above were supposed to be part of the story but since it kinda affects the speech of our dearest CEO...
Anyways, ahhh I hope I was able to do jealous Vic justice. 😭 He isn’t one to talk his emotions so I hope it still fits his character. What’s it like seeing a jealous LFG CEO? It isn’t the usual, right? Of course, he is Victor Li after all.^^
#mlqc#mldd#mlqc victor#mldd victor#mr love dream date#mr love queen's choice#mrlove victor#victor li#love and producer#evol x love#mrlove mobile#mr love fanfic#mr love game#mlqc li zeyan#mlqc fanfic#mr love li zeyan#mlqc headcanon#mr love headcanon#mldd headcanon#mldd fanfic
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mercs react to their s/o being terminally ill. ~
Hi I don’t know if you’re an angst person but I hope you consider my request. May I request the mercs with an s/o that gets diagnosed with a terminal illness that has no cure and could potentially be fatal? How do they deal with the idea that they could die?
How about mercs with an s/o who is very sick? Thank you and good luck!
so y’all tryna break my heart today, huh. i love writing angst but it always ends up hurting me :’)
terminally ill could be considered a heavy topic so i will tag it accordingly! poor mercs.. please enjoy! ❤️
[ TW: TERMINAL ILLNESS MENTION/ALCOHOL MENTION]
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Scout:
scared to death for them. his face grows white upon hearing the news and he freezes, his stomach turning at the realization that he may lose the only person that could understand him, not as a scout but as himself.
will probably hurt more than his other half and the news weighs him down greatly, affecting his everyday tasks. he becomes very clingy and is worried that once he leaves their side, they’ll be gone from his reach.
not the best caretaker and doesn’t really know how to assist a sick person, so he calls his ma up for advice and tries his best to follow it, even if he makes a few stumbles here and there. you know he means well even if he nearly burns all the food he makes for you.
Soldier:
demands the medical center to do something about it and says it’s an order, his voice booming around the quiet area. when they apologize and inform him that nothing could be done, he nearly loses his shit and has to be held back before he decides to blow up the place.
tries to be strong for them, even if he’s godly worried but doesn’t show it. he highly believes they can make it through their sickness and tries to keep their spirit up no matter how low the day is; “this disease has got nothing on you, cupcake! you are the strongest fighter i know!” and when they smile, it motivates him to continue on.
Pyro:
they whimper cause they know something isn’t right. though they can’t quite put their finger on it, they do notice the change of behavior their s/o has as time passes. the way they drag their body, eat and sleep less, often too weak to move and it just worries them. they know something is wrong.
hugs and rainbows and everything bright makes everyone happy right? so they do just that. even if they can’t understand what they’re going through, they try to cheer them up with everything they have; stuffed animals, their favorite food, cuddles and even sets up little skits for them.
on their worse days, where they’re terribly ill and can’t build up the strength to do even the simplest of tasks, they just stay by their side, hugging them here and there to show that they’re not alone.
Demoman:
tavish is heart broken but he doesn’t show it to his s/o. the last thing they need to see is another crying face around them. instead, he asks how his s/o how they’re feeling and comforts them in their time of need despite the tears threatening to spill.
he mostly grieves in silence at first, not even alcohol being able to silence the pain that ached inside him. he cries to himself for a while until his s/o catches him one night, hunched over on the table while he let out soft sobs. they hug him from behind until he’s ready to talk and when he does, he feels much better. 
once he composes himself the day after, he tries to cut down on the alcohol to be sober enough to care for his s/o properly. he wants to be there for them completely in their time of need.
Heavy:
is deeply saddened for his s/o, not knowing the impact it had placed on their shoulders. he doesn’t say much but hugs them gently, caressing their back for comfort. “(y/n) will be okay. misha is here.”
he’s already a worry wart so upon learning this, he becomes even worse with his concerns and frets about his s/o often, commenting on every little thing. if they cough too loud or even vomit, he freaks out inwardly and does everything and anything he can to help them.
he often asks medic for advice on how to help them cope with their disease at the least and follows his tips to the bone. he also makes sure that his s/o doesn’t overwork themselves at all and tells them to rest often.
Medic:
he thinks that the doctor is just pulling shit out of their ass and probably just giving his s/o a scare. they’ve been acting and looking fine lately, so it’d be strange for them to have an incurable disease. he brushes it off his shoulders for the time being.
but then as he slowly observes them more, he does notice major changes that he hadn’t caught before. the way they moved, spoke, and even the way their beautiful smile weakened eventually caught up to him and he’s completely devastated, reality finally striking him.
stays up countless nights to find a cure, anything and everything that could at least prevent it from worsening. it’s true, he could always bring people back to life but it wasn’t always an assurity and he wasn’t sure if a disease was the same, so it worries him more. even if his s/o begs him to take a break, he just won’t. not when they’re in danger.
Sniper:
he gets angry at the doctor at first, spewing out questions that he knew the doctor couldnt answer himself; “wut do ya mean ya weasels can’t do a thing? isn’t that your job?” when his s/o drags him out of the medical center, he grows eerily quiet compared to the moments earlier and keeps his head down the rest of the way home.
when his s/o does confront him later that night, they cup both his scruffy cheeks in their hands and he leans into their touch unconciously. “i’m gonna be okay.” he stays quiet, staring at them with a sullen expression. “oi know.” he murmurs, “oim just- just afraid to lose ya.” and they shake their head and wrap their arms around his torso, “you won’t.”
afraid is just the beginning. he’s utterly mortified with the idea of losing them, often keeping him awake at night and sending him into nightmares. he’s lost so many people in his life and he knows the pain of it, but this was different. this pain is absolutely unbearable and he holds them tight as they sleep, silently begging that they don’t take away the one perfect thing he has going in his life.
Engineer:
he tries not to cry right in front of his s/o as they announce the news to the both of them, but his s/o knows he’s one second away from breaking down so they pull him out of there as soon as possible. he tearfully apologizes to them, blaming himself for not taking care of them more often and how he should’ve noticed. his s/o tries to reassure him it’s not his fault but it doesn’t really change his mind.
doesn’t deal with the idea of losing his s/o very well. he smiles less and worries more, stressing himself out but tries to maintain his positive attitude for the sake of keeping them happy during these times.
anything his s/o needs, he does without a complaint. no matter what time of the day or how busy he is, he will drop it just to attend to them. he takes it up a notch once he’s aware his s/o is sick and you best believe it’ll be done in a heartbeat once those words leave your mouth.
Spy:
he’s had a feeling for a while that his other half was sick, hence the reason why he forcefully decided to drag them to the hospital. when the news is confirmed, he thanks the doctors and quietly pulls them out of the building. he sees the teary eyes of his s/o and sighs deeply, embracing them in a tight hug, whispering sweet nothings to them.
is aware that their s/o’s mental health may decline due to the sudden shock and tries to lighten up their day often, buying them things they want or complimenting them whenever he sees them. he also starts conversations whenever they’re around. even goes as far as dancing with them in the middle of his quarters.
makes sure his s/o is relaxed as possible at the same time. he messages their back and wherever it hurts, holds them whenever they need it, and becomes a mother hen whenever they fall terribly ill. even if he’s outwardly fine, he’s honestly devastated but tries to keep his head on his shoulders, knowing that panicking will only worsen the situation.
#team fortress 2#tf2#team fortress 2 x reader#tf2 x reader#team fortress 2 imagines#team fortress 2 headcanons#team fortress 2 scenarios#tf2 imagines#tf2 scenarios#tf2 headcanons#tf2 sniper#tf2 scout#tf2 soldier#tf2 pyro#tf2 heavy#tf2 engineer#tf2 engie#tf2 spy#tf2 demoman#tf2 demo#angst
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In case it helps anyone to know -- if you struggle, you are not alone.
I think many people who who've followed me or known me for a long time probably think I have my shit pretty together. And in a lot of ways, my life is great, and I have done some cool stuff. But despite that, I struggle with mental health, and my brain is sometimes a terrible place to live. I've spent a bunch of time recently:
Feeling incompetent and like a complete imposter
Feeling like a failure and a disappointment
Feeling like I'll never be able to do any job well and will end up penniless and without healthcare (but still with chronic pain) and an enormous burden to everyone
Feeling like a waste of resources -- "I have so much privilege, and so many advantages, and I squander them by being useless and by not even enjoying my life"
Feeling like I'll never enjoy anything again
Feeling like life will never be anything except stress and despair
Lying awake feeling all my muscles clenched and my heart racing
Having a tremendously hard time getting out of bed
Having an even harder time attending work meetings or doing work
Not being able to eat much and experiencing nausea and digestive issues (where usually I tend to eat larger amounts than usual in response to stress, occasionally it flips and I have to force myself to eat)
Crying unpredictably, e.g. while doing dishes, and having to awkwardly explain to housemates
Feeling numb and impatient and distracted while trying to read/watch TV/browse Tumblr
Feeling So. Much. Guilt. And. Shame. Just constantly.
This is all in spite of the fact that (a) I have substantial and even recent evidence to the contrary about a lot of this stuff (e.g. I got feedback at work not that long ago that I was doing really well and could consider going up for promotion soon). And (b) I've had intense episodes of anxiety in the past and then gotten better, so I have plenty of examples of how these intense feelings don't necessarily predict the future.
Despite all this data, and despite my loved ones telling me wonderful, helpful things, I have spent a lot of time feeling viscerally quite horrible over the past few weeks (as well as for much longer stretches, at times in the past). And parts of my brain have compellingly argued that this will probably last forever.
I've dug myself partially out by talking to a doctor (though I realize healthcare is a privilege not everyone has, though we all should) and getting a short term Rx to help me relax at night enough to sleep. And signing up for therapy again. And discussing longer term possible changes to my meds (I'm on an antidepressant that had been working well till recently). And doing simple breathing exercises. And forcing myself to go do some small amount of work -- especially to make progress on a couple of the things i was most dreading, or to ask others for help with them. And forcing myself to eat and go for walks. And spending time petting kitties. And admitting to my closest peeps that I am struggling, and getting them to say that they'll still like me even if I lose my job. And remembering all those past episodes of anxiety and depression (as well as panicky bad drug trips) that I was sure would last forever at the time, but didn't. And realizing that life is long, and there are many ways to survive and find joy in this world -- and even if I thoroughly fuck up one path, there are other things to try.
I also had to do a big hard thing at work this week that was very stressful (definitely the dread of this has been one contributing factor in my recent spiral). Afterwards, I immediately felt drenched in relief, and feelings of interest and joy and hunger have started to flood back into my life again. "HAHA JUST KIDDING," the unhelpful parts of my brain suddenly said. I still would like to get to a much more stable place mentally, and I'm going to continue to work toward that, and to develop my toolbox for coping. But the sudden easing of some of the terrible sensations feels miraculous, and I'm grateful, and amazed at how fast my internal state can change. And even if maybe it turns out I feel worse again tomorrow, I'm going to enjoy today and try to remember that I did so.
So. If you're struggling, I empathize so much. And it's worth trying to keep in mind that:
Strong feelings of incompetence and/or certainty that the future will suck don't stem from reality. Our brains+bodies sometimes make us feel these things strongly even when actual evidence says otherwise.
That means anxiety/depression is like a bad drug trip. It feels very real, but you're likely to feel at least somewhat differently -- and sometimes substantially better -- if you can hang in there a while.
Just because your brain may be lying to you doesn't mean the resulting struggle isn't real. It's legit hard sometimes to do the basics of survival -- Eat. Sleep. Move the minimal amount needed to get food & water, go to the bathroom, etc. When you're finding those things hard, you're ill. And you deserve time off and self care and a trip to the doctor, if you can manage any of that. If you can't? If you're taking care of others/working or going to school/doing anything else on top of being ill? You're a superhero. I hope you can get others to help take some of your duties for a bit, or to help you book a doctor's/therapist's appointment, or to at least listen and sympathize and send you cute animal pics or memes.
Other people who may appear to have their shit together may not. Many of them are going through big struggles of their own.
The pandemic & state of the world right now are making things much harder for so many people. My doctor (general practitioner) told me that nobody she's seen in the past year is doing that great mentally, and the number of people having acute mental health issues has skyrocketed. Be as kind and forgiving toward yourself as you can manage (in general, and even more so now).
Good luck. Hang in there as best you can. I'm rooting for you. 💗
(Feel free to reblog or to reply, but I may not have energy to respond to comments... responding is hard right now.)
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hi! random question that you’re not obligated to answer (i just love your ka metas): do you think that aang acted like he was entitled to katara’s affection? sorry for the bother if this is a question you’ve gotten before, i’m just curious about your thoughts
Hi anon! It’s always lovely to hear people like my metas 💛 And you’re in luck - I have not gotten this specific question before, though I have answered similar questions, and as such I will probably link those posts throughout.
Forewarning: I use the general you very liberally in this post, so like. It’s not directed at you, anon djhskdjsajs I don’t want you think my sarcasm is in response to your ask (your ask was very lovely!! 💕)
Okay. Let’s get started! The funniest thing about the (nonsensical) claim that Aang acted “entitled” to Katara’s affection is that there is no canon evidence to support it. Opponents more often than not can only bring up one (1) episode as an example of supposed “entitlement” because no other Kataang interactions in the series demonstrate entitlement from either end! Like, wow. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. And I’m sure we all know what episode opponents love to propagate, don’t we?
Yep, you guessed it: “The Ember Island Players.”
From the get-go, the fact that people who vigorously oppose Kataang essentially only appeal to the contents of one episode for Aang’s supposed “entitlement” is a major indicator that, in fact, the entitlement is not truly there, and that those opponents are actually misconstruing the entire episode. I mean, if you are trying to make an argument about something but you only have one piece of “evidence” to support your claim, then a) any half-decent teacher/professor would fail you, rip and b) that’s a sign that maybe your claim doesn’t hold water. If you can’t find evidence to support it, then you’re probably looking at your case from the wrong angle. Analysis 101.
As such, I find the “entitlement” claim particularly ridiculous because opponents repeat the same faulty rhetoric over and over! The only people that might be convinced are those with confirmation bias. I’m sure that’s their audience, of course, but it’s still hilarious dfjaksdasks.
Anyways. Here’s the excerpt from the EIP transcript that opponents l o v e to spotlight with their “entitlement” claims:
Aang: Katara, did you really mean what you said in there?
Katara: In where? What are you talking about?
Aang: On stage, when you said I was just like a… brother to you, and you didn’t have feelings for me.
Katara: I didn’t say that. An actor said that.
Aang: But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.
Katara: Aang, I don’t know.
Aang: Why don’t you know?
Katara: Because, we’re in the middle of a war, and we have other things to worry about. This isn’t the right time.
Aang: Well, when is the right time?
Katara: Aang, I’m sorry, but right now I’m just a little confused.
Aang tries to kiss Katara.
Katara: I just said I was confused! I’m going inside. [Exits the balcony.]
Aang: Ugh, I’m such an idiot! [Puts down his head on the balcony railing.]
Opponents claim Aang’s behavior is “entitled” here for two reasons:
1) He asks Katara several questions about their relationship status.
2) He kisses her.
Before I get too far into this, we have to consider the context of the episode. Katara and Aang have this conversation after just watching 95% of “The Boy in the Iceberg,” aka Fire Nation propaganda. I have talked about the specifics of the play being imperialist propaganda here, but the gist of it is that this play is meant to demean the Gaang, to portray them as lesser and weaker than the Fire Nation. The fact that the play ends with Ozai’s victory is a stark reminder of this mentality. So: Katara and Aang have just watched this play that preys upon their insecurities and paints them as awful caricatures of their true selves. It is only natural that they would be more tense than usual. The reason I bring this up is solely to inform their conversation on the balcony, however; I don’t think their frustration solely defines what they say/do, but it’s worth keeping in mind, “Hey, they’re stressed and upset, of course this conversation might not go perfectly.”
Now, I have talked about the infamous EIP kiss before and approached all the rhetoric surrounding it like Snopes Fact Checker in this post, lmao. I did discuss in there why the kiss is wrong, which no one has ever argued against, but also why the kiss is simply a mistake: not sexual assault, not entitlement, not an unforgivable decision. I’ve copied and pasted specifically my notes on the “entitlement” claim below regarding the kiss, but if you have time, I definitely recommend the whole post jksdhjasdka (I’m quite proud of it). Anyways! Here’s the excerpt:
Claim: Aang acted entitled to Katara and her affection.
Status: False.
I’ve briefly addressed this already, but Aang backing off when Katara pushed him away is the exact opposite of entitlement. An impromptu kiss is not always indicative of entitlement. It can be, especially if the person being kissed has never expressed any interest in the person kissing them, but Katara and Aang were mutually interested in each other. They’d mutually kissed twice already by that point: in CoTL and during DoBS. The EIP kiss was inappropriate. NO ONE HAS EVER SUGGESTED OTHERWISE. But when you’re 12 and you’re already kind of in this semi-relationship with a girl you’ve been through hell and high water with (who has kissed you twice on the lips and on the cheek multiple times, not to mention it is only you she ever expresses such affection towards), it is not fucking “entitlement” to make a move on her, even when the timing is off. IT’S JUST A MISTAKE. A POOR DECISION. NOT ENTITLEMENT. NOT MANIPULATION. NOT SEXUAL ASSAULT. Full stop.
Also, these EIP people love to call Aang entitled for this kiss, but there isn’t a single peep heard from them about Zuko’s line in TSR where he demands to know what’s “wrong” with Katara, since she hasn’t forgiven him yet when everyone else has. And look. I think Zuko was just frustrated here, and that he, too, made a mistake and is obviously not irredeemable for it, but. If you’re going to argue that Aang was entitled in EIP, you’d better be ready to acknowledge the argument that Zuko was acting entitled in TSR, too. And hell, let’s take it a step further! Call Aang entitled for EIP. Call Zuko entitled for TSR. Call Sokka entitled for choosing to stay at Boiling Rock on the off chance his father would arrive, thus making Suki and Zuko feel obligated to stay behind with him, effectively putting all of them in danger. What an entitled decision, risking his friends’ lives on the 0.01% chance Hakoda would be one of the many, many possible war prisoners arriving at Boiling Rock!
Damn. That sounds ridiculous as fuck, doesn’t it?
And guess what. That’s exactly how the “Aang was entitled” arguments come across. Hate to break it to you. Trust me when I say to do yourself a favor and stop perpetuating that faulty rhetoric!
So that is what I have already assessed, lol.
To be frank, the most frustrating thing I see perpetuated is that the EIP kiss somehow ruined Aang and Katara’s relationship. But when it comes to assessing weighty issues like the notion of “entitlement” in a relationship, the fact of the matter is that you have to look at both the relationship as a whole and the context in which it is situated. Opponents never want to do that, because doing so debunks their entire (baseless) argument, lmao. Katara and Aang are best friends. And by EIP, they have both expressed romantic interest in each other multiple times. (Here is a post explaining the development of Katara’s feelings for Aang, just to put out that fire before anyone sets it lmao.)
So why, why do opponents think Katara would never find it in herself to forgive Aang for a mistaken kiss? Katara is shown over and over again throughout the series to have one of the biggest hearts. She wants to see the good in people. That’s why she gives Jet a second chance (even though a person could argue he did not “deserve” one); that’s why she helps the Fire Nation village in “The Painted Lady”; that’s why she forgives Pakku (once she sees he’s willing to change); that’s why she is the second person in the entire show (excluding Iroh) to offer Zuko a hand of kindness (in CoD)! That’s why she eventually forgives Zuko, even after all he has done to the Gaang (e.g. sending an assassin after them, being complicit in Aang’s death, attacking her and kidnapping Aang at the NWT, manipulating her with her mother’s necklace, to name a few, lmao. bless his heart, but like Jet, someone could easily argue Zuko doesn’t “deserve” another chance - and yet Katara still gave him [and Jet] one. in fact, she gave Zuko multiple).
In other words, Katara is almost always willing to extend friendship and compassion and forgiveness to others - why would she revoke that privilege from Aang after a single error that is comparatively lesser to all the other horrible things she’s experienced in the war? Again, I’m not downplaying how terrible of a decision Aang made. It’s inexcusable. But it’s not the end of the world, and considering the context of the show (e.g. Aang and Katara liked each other and they both knew it), it’s… not some heinous crime. Compared to, oh, how about attempted murder? lmaoo
Even beyond Katara’s innate kindness, Aang is Katara’s best friend. She loves him. The show portrays it as romantic through the seasons, but even if someone isn’t into shipping (which is super valid), Katara and Aang’s connection is one of the primary lynchpins of the show! (The other being Aang and Zuko, the greatest foils of all time.) Katara and Aang epitomize several of A:TLA’s thematics (and aesthetics) because they are complementary: yin and yang, push and pull, Tui and La, moon and ocean, blue and orange, water and air. This gifset and related commentary beautifully demonstrate how even when Katara and Aang disagree, they respect the other’s the decision. So after 60~ episodes depicting Aang and Katara as having mutual respect and love for each other in every form as well as emphasizing Katara’s natural inclination towards kindness/giving people the benefit of the doubt, opponents still think Katara wouldn’t forgive Aang because of one mistimed, inappropriate kiss? What?? Make it make sense, lmao.
In sum, the kiss was a mistake, not an act of entitlement, and it’s absurd to think Katara would hold that against Aang for the rest of his life.
To backtrack a bit, opponents also love to use the fact that Aang asked Katara several questions about their relationship status as examples of his “entitlement.” Just typing that out highlights the ridiculous nature of this assertion, lmao! Let me rephrase it for maximum hilarity:
“Aang was unsure about where their relationship stood? Well, how dare he ask numerous questions to resolve his confusion!”
Like, what was the alternative jskfajksdas if you are in relationship limbo with someone, it is far better to ask them ‘too many’ questions for clarification than to simply assume one way or the other! Kissing Katara was wrong, flat-out, but asking her questions to better understand where they were in their relationship was like. exactly the right decision, lmao. I genuinely don’t see how that could be indicative of entitlement? Especially because, once again, Aang and Katara both like each other and they both know that by this point in the show. That’s why Aang doesn’t ask if Katara likes him - he knows she does. That’s why Katara doesn’t negate her feelings - she knows she’s interested in him, and the blockade between them is not a lack of reciprocation, but the fact that they’re “in the middle of a war” and consequently it’s not “the right time” for them to begin a relationship. Katara has seen Aang die before! She knows he’s facing a near-impossible victory! I can’t blame her for not wanting to start a relationship with him at that point. It would hurt twice as much to lose him again if they were together in a romantic fashion (amatonormativity, am I right?). Again, Aang’s kiss was entirely inappropriate, but him asking her questions about their relationship is a) an example of fostering healthy communication and b) what any therapist would encourage, lol.
Oh, but I’m “forgetting” something, aren’t I? Right. This line:
Katara: Aang, I’m sorry, but right now I’m just a little confused.
If we want to talk about parallels, which I know the A:TLA fandom adores, this line sounds suspiciously like:
Yue: … but I like you [Sokka] too much and it’s too confusing to be around you.
Yue and Katara are actually in similar situations here. Outside forces are interfering with their relationships; for Yue, there is her arranged marriage, and for Katara, it’s the life-or-death nature of the war itself. They aren’t confused about their feelings, as Yue knows she likes Sokka and Katara knows she likes Aang, but they are confused about how to reconcile those feelings with their external circumstances. And can you blame them for that? They are facing impossible decisions (the fate of their nation and the fate of the world respectively). I would be confused, too! So Katara’s response isn’t a reaction to any so-called “entitlement” from Aang; she is experiencing genuine confusion about how to approach her own feelings for him in the midst of a war.
In sum, Aang asking questions about their relationship was a logical step to take resolving his confusion and is in no way related to “entitlement.” Katara’s confusion was not “letting Aang down easy” and interpreting it as such requires disregarding every preceding line of the conversation and its context.
As you can see, Aang’s actions in EIP are not at all “entitled.” His questions were understandable. While his kiss was inappropriate and inexcusable, it was also a mistake, and there is no canon evidence to support the conclusion Katara would never be able to forgive him (her literal best friend!) for it.
Before I end, I’ll touch briefly upon the DotBS kiss, because it is also occasionally used as an example of Aang’s “entitlement” towards Katara’s feelings. Whether you like the trope or not, this moment falls under what is called the “Now or Never Kiss.” TV Tropes actually lists Kataang/DotBS as an example under the Western Animation tab:
“Avatar: The Last Airbender: The fact that he’s finally going to face the dreaded Firelord, and possibility that he might not come back alive from that battle, gives Aang enough motivation to kiss Katara.”
Again, whether you like the trope or not, it involves reciprocation from both parties:
“The Not-A-Couple [i.e. both parties] don’t want to go out without revealing how they [i.e. both parties] really feel. It’s now or never. They kiss.”
Katara and Aang both like each other. When Aang initiates the DotBS kiss, Katara kisses him back. Her lips are still puckered when he pulls away. Furthermore, Katara had initiated a kiss with Aang prior to this incident, in CoTL. Katara was also the one to initiate every cheek kiss with Aang (who is the only character she ever demonstrated such affection towards). So Aang kissing Katara during DotBS follows an established precedent of Katara initiating different kisses, romantically inclined, with Aang. It’s not entitlement; it’s him knowing they mutually like each other and him realizing this might be the last time he ever sees her. Again, you can hate the trope, but don’t blatantly misconstrue its meaning. You’ll sound like Fire Nation propaganda, lmao. (For clarification, jic: the general you. not anon!)
Here is a fantastic post by @imreallyhereforkataang explaining the DotBS kiss in more detail as well as discussing why Kataang’s progression in the second half of Book 3 was, in fact, well-developed, and how Katara and Aang are best friends above all else and know that (which was the core of their relationship from the start).
And a bonus fun fact: in the original storyboard (link takes you to storyboarder Giancarlo Volpe’s DeviantArt with said storyboard), it is noted that Katara smiles after Aang kisses her. Why? Because she likes him as much as he likes her! It was changed by a “higher authority,” according to Volpe, probably to add more realism to the romance (i.e. Katara likes Aang, yes, but as she herself points out in EIP - there’s a war going on, and love is always terrifying to reconcile with war).
(Seriously, though, do read Volpe’s description on the storyboard. Takes you a second to scroll down and maybe a minute to read. Short yet informative, discussing how you can see on the storyboard itself that someone revised the image so Katara isn’t smiling after the kiss.)
Anyways! Opponents’ argument that Katara wasn’t interested in Aang therefore is and has always been entirely inapplicable.
To conclude: the entitlement assertion is laughable. There is no canon evidence to support it. As such, I encourage you to laugh whenever you see it! Pull an Azula, for that matter:
[ID: Gif from “The Beach” episode of A:TLA. Ty Lee, mimicking a guy, asks Azula, “Hey there sweet sugar cakes. How ya likin’ this party?” Azula proceeds to burst into exaggerated laughter, earning stares from everyone else at the party. End ID.]
Thank you for the great ask, anon! Hopefully my response was satisfactory 💛
#surprise friends!! a kataang analysis!! i probably will not write any others until may 💀#kataang#kataangtag#aang#katara#atla#avatar the last airbender#atla meta#amy answers#anon#amy analyzes
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A/N: Hello everyone, Happy Gruvia Week to you. I didn't expect that I would be writing contents for this year's event too. But I'm really happy to be writing stories about my favourite anime couples.
Hopefully, everyone likes it. This year the prompts were very similar to previous years. It had me in fix how to write content without making it a repetitive fashion.
Finally got an idea and tried to merge all those 7 prompts into a storyline. Hopefully, it convinces you all.
Thank you for reading and spending your time here.
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Main Pairing: GRUVIA
Summary:- Celebrity Gray x General Public Juvia, Modern AU
Words:- 2K
Currently, Fairy Tail Agency has arranged for a press meet to officially declare the facts of the new movie in which two of their most famous actors are going to be a part.
Gray Fullbuster, 25 years, tv artist turned actor and Lucy Heartfilia, 24 years, model turned actress, has signed up for this movie which is under the production of Straussl Inc.
As the reporters who out various questions regarding the details of this upcoming venture and some related to their personal life.
"So, Mr Fullbuster, tell us about how you feel knowing that you have been nominated for 3 categories of awards this year?"
One of the reporters asked and was ready to note Gray's response.
"I'm sure that I will receive the awards for best actor and handsome face. Also, my last movie 'Icy Days' has been nominated for the best movie of the year. But not sure about the 'Gem of the decade' award."
Gray confidently answered and smiled which made the female reporters squeal.
Lucy interrupted, "Not to ruin Gray's fantasy but my movie 'Starry Night At Stella' was a blockbuster hit. Myself and my co-actor Natsu Dragneel were praised by critics for our performance. So, Gray, don't forget that even we are on the race too." Lucy smiled which made everyone chuckle after hearing her opinions.
"Sure Lucy... All the best to you and Natsu" Gray told and looked at his manager, Erza Scarlet, who also happens to be Natsu's manager, to know when this press meet is going to end.
"Another 10 minutes" Erza gestured by hand signals.
Suddenly, one of the reporters from Magnolia Times shot down a question that took Gray off guard.
"Recently, there was a photo of Mr Fullbuster with a child in his arms. Who does that child happen to be? And is it true that you are having an illicit affair with someone, Mr Fullbuster?" That reporter smirked.
Gray remained indifferent and calmly answered him while his team members and staff panicked.
"Everyone in Fiore knows that it was a piece of fake news. In today's era of modern technology, it is easy to photoshop one's picture with anything and anyone, Mr Invel.
Even my agency owner, Mr Makarov Dreyer and my manager, Ms Scarlet have clarified about it. So, don't go digging the old hoax rumours."
Gray stood up and thanked everyone for their time and presence before dashing off to the exit where Lucy followed him back.
It was Erza and the production team who bid a farewell to the reporters before joining the actors in their cabin.
Once Erza reached Gray's cabin, she saw him tossing his coat and tie around the room while Lucy stood silently.
"Gray, I think you should disclose your relationship before it gets exposed in a bad way," Erza said calmly and patted his back.
"That's what I was thinking, Erza. I can't continue to hide this big news about my life for a long time from my fans. I will reveal this during the awards function." Gray looked determined and hoped that his fans would take it on a positive note.
"They will surely accept your relationship status just like how they received mine and Natsu's." Lucy encouraged him and patted his arms which seemed to make him calm down.
"Gray, tomorrow you have your day off then, on Wednesday, we will be going to Phoenix Mall for a fan meet up event where other actors of our agency will join us." Erza informed him and handed the invitation.
From the invitation, it was clear that this mall was quite near to his apartment complex. Moreover, it was arranged by Mr Makarov himself so there was no way of turning it down.
"Fine, I will get ready for this. Just send the car near the children's park no need to come in front of the complex." He informed Erza and thanked them both for their words of motive before he left them.
After half an hour, Gray reached the children's park and put on his disguise, cooling glass, mask and a cap to conceal his identity while he was dressed up in a simple t-shirt and jeans.
"Max, tomorrow's your day off. Pick me up here at 9 am on Wednesday. Bye."
"Yes, Mr Fullbuster. Bye, and Good night" The driver left him while Gray made his way towards his home.
The apartment complex in which he lived was one of the expensive housing in Magnolia. The higher the floor level, the higher is the cost and the higher is the security.
Till the 11th floor, the general public who did high order jobs lived while the next 10 floors were occupied by celebrities of various fields.
One of the perks of this housing agency was that their identity remains secret, not even their neighbours know about them until and unless the involved party discloses it.
Once Gray reached the 17th floor, which had two apartments where one was still vacant.
As he hit the doorbell of his apartment, Gray could hear voices coming from inside which brought a smile on his face.
The door opened and his eyes met the gorgeous lady who welcomed him with a beautiful smile that captivated him.
"Welcome home, Gray-sama"
"I'm home, Juvia," Gray said and got inside.
Soon, he removed the disguise and leaned forward to kiss her lips which she reciprocated back.
Once they broke off the kiss, Juvia hugged him and whispered, "I missed you, Gray-sama."
"Even, I missed you, Juvia. It's been a week since I last saw you and…." Before he could finish, both of them felt someone hugging their legs.
And it was none their 3-year-old daughter, Yuki Fullbuster, who resembled her mother but had father's hair and eye colour and his sharp nose.
"Papa"
Seeing his daughter's smile was enough for him to get distracted from his wife, then, have his undivided attention on his little munchkin.
Gray raised Yuki in his arms and kissed her cheeks and forehead who did the same to her papa.
"Yuki missed you, papa."
"Even, papa missed you, darling. Were you a good girl during papa's absence?" Gray asked her as they moved towards the living room.
Gray let her down who ran up to a table and tried to fetch her drawing notebook.
Juvia made her husband sit down and inquired him about his work as he looked tired and kinda depressed.
Gray convinced her everything was fine and told her about the press meet excluding the details of the rumours.
#
It had been 4 years since Gray started his acting career starting as an ad shoot model to tv artists then to movie star.
Gray, Natsu and Erza were childhood friends who did their schooling from the same institution till college.
It was during the 3rd year, Gray and Natsu got scouted to act as models for a tv commercial which they accepted readily as of then they needed some kind of part-time jobs to meet their ends.
Even, Erza thought that it was a good opportunity for them to succeed as the agency, Fairy Tail, was well known throughout Fiore and persuaded them to take up the offer.
Once, their commercials began to reach people mainly because of their handsome features and physique especially Gray got popular among the female fans.
It was during this time that Gray and Natsu had to move out of the college dorm so that they could work freely without time restrictions.
That's when Gray meets Juvia for the first time in his life. She was his neighbour whom he thought lived her boyfriend but it turned out to be her best friend, Gajeel Redfox, vocalist of Phantom Bands, an upcoming band.
Gray rarely started any kind of conversation with anyone. It was with the help of Natsu that they befriended Juvia and to date, Gray was thankful to his friend.
Until the moment he met Juvia, Gray was never keen on love or relationships.
But to him, Juvia was way different from the girls he had met in his college. She was modest and shy but a kind person with a large helping tendency.
Gray knew her personality and beauty had beguiled his attention and wanting to know more about her made him fall for her head over heels.
Of course, they would exchange greetings whenever they met while leaving the house together. Slowly they deepened their connection and exchanged numbers.
Due to her friendly nature, Juvia would invite Gray and Natsu over to her place for small weekend parties which she would arrange for Gajeel to relieve his stress.
At first, he was reluctant to invade a party meant for Gajeel but the latter happily welcomed them.
That way, they got acquainted exchanged their work details and stress with each other.
It was after a few months of that weekend party that Gray had offered Juvia a dinner date which she accepted after a week of thinking.
By this time, Gray gained quite a lot of recognition. The reason he called her out on a dinner date was to reveal that he has signed up as the main lead for a tv drama which was produced by a well-known production house.
Juvia was elated and congratulated and wished him luck. It was during that time Gray confessed his love for her and waited for her answer.
To his surprise, Juvia readily accepted him. He still remembers her words from that time,
"Gray-sama, even I feel the same for you. I was afraid to convey my feelings to you as each day our world was getting apart. I was determined to tell you today after dinner.
But to my surprise, I never expected even you would feel the same. I love you, Gray-sama."
After hearing her say those golden words, Gray got hold of her hand and kissed it lightly and asked Juvia to be his girlfriend which she agreed.
Once they reached their respective place, Gray kissed her lips and shared a hug before calling off that night.
The next day, both of them informed their friends about their relationship. Erza and Natsu were supportive.
But Gajeel was reluctant he wanted to tell Juvia how difficult it would be for her to date a celebrity.
She has to remain under the shadows. Moreover, if words go out then obsessive fans might harm her and she would be constantly under paparazzi's scrutiny if Gray's facing bad times.
But Juvia was ready to face any difficulties and wanted to support her boyfriend in his career.
#
Once the family had their dinner together, Gray tugged his daughter in her bed before planting a kiss on her forehead and wished her good night.
Juvia was washing the dishes when Gray snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her neck which made Juvia squeak.
Gray turned off the tap and turned his wife so that she could face him.
"Juvia, tomorrow's my day off. Even the night is still young. Moreover, I missed my wife…" He leaned forward and kissed her lips which made her moan against his lips.
"Gray-sama…."
"Juvia…." Both of their eyes were clouded with lust and decided to continue their passionate night inside their bedroom.
After an hour, both was them were under the blankets, Gray had his arm around his wife and hummed in her ears as she talked about her day with Yuki.
Juvia could sense her husband's hold around her waist getting tight. He did only when he felt insecure or paranoid.
Juvia turned around to face him who kept looking at her. She cupped his face with both of her hands which startled him.
"Gray-sama, what's on your mind? Spill it out. Don't go huddling up those stressful thoughts within you. Share it with your wife. I will help you lessen those burdens." Juvia conveyed her thoughts and smiled at him.
"This is what I'm beguiled about you, Juvia. You can easily find out my conflicting thoughts just by sensing my actions. I'm really lucky to have you as my soulmate, dear." Gray said earnestly and kissed her forehead which made Juvia feel special.
Then slowly Gray disclosed his fears about how the world will perceive his relationship and worried that this shouldn't cause any harm to either Juvia and Yuki especially.
After hearing his fears, Juvia cradled her husband and patted his back just like how she does it for her daughter whenever she has nightmares.
Gray seemed to relax from this action. Juvia assured him that nothing terrible is going to happen and just hope everything turns out well.
Suddenly Gray raised his head and questioned her, "What if things repeat? And this time to our Yuki."
Juvia's eyes grew wide, but she can't show her fear, at least, not in front of her husband for now, who himself was feeling paranoid.
"I'm sure nothing will happen. Let's have faith in ourselves and your fans, Gray-sama.
I'm just worried that your fan number might get reduced once you reveal your married status." Juvia voiced her concern.
This time it was Gray's turn to convince her, "Nah! Just like you said let's hope for the best. I love you and Yuki. Remember that, okay"
Gray smiled and kissed her lips, "Juvia, you are still warm. Wanna continue from where we left?" He teased her.
It seemed her Gray-sama was back to normal for now.
A/N: Sorry for posting it bit late. Hope I will be able to update for the rest of the event.
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