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#ignore the shoes that don’t match :3 we had nothing else

lovewithasideoffries · 2 years

Note

Okay okay- but can you even imagine and Eddie x reader during the guitar scene, she’s basically drooling over him? But she’s also playing the guitar!

Like omg sorry it would be such a badass scene of them playing together while Dustin is counting down until they need to run!

hi omg sorry it took me so long to write this! but yes i tried my best to put your thoughts into words, here ya go!!

Most Metal

summary: Eddie and Y/n kill it on the guitar in the Upside Down.

warnings: idk swearing? spoilers for v2

word count: 1211

You showed up at the clearing that your friends had parked the trailer they stole their trailer in and came out, slamming the door of your car.

“Hey, how was buying illegal shit from The War Zone?” you called out, trekking toward where Eddie and Dustin were standing near a couple small crates and showing off their fancy new weapons.

“Uneventful, besides the fact that Jason and his gang of assholes were also looking to buy ‘illegal shit’, most likely to hunt down your boyfriend. Wait, remind me again why you weren’t there y/n?” Robin replied.

Had it been anyone else you would’ve felt a bit offended, but you brushed it off. You knew your friend didn’t mean any harm, you had gotten used to her bluntness and lack of social cues.

“Well, seeing as I’m the only one here who has access to their house and can run around Hawkins in a car without causing suspicion - also Jason isn’t actively hunting me down because he doesn’t know who the fuck I am - I figured it’d be best to get home and change and grab supplies and shit.”

“Y/n, when we said change we meant into something you can fight in. Yet here you show up in a pleated black skirt and 3 inch heels,” Dustin chided you playfully.

“Trust me, kid. I can fight in these shoes.”

He looked to Eddie, eyebrows raised. “She can, it’s crazy. That girl could run a marathon in those,” your boyfriend whispered back loudly.

“And for the record, these are only heeled boots. You should see me fight in real heels. Besides I’m going to be playing guitar in the fucking Upside Down. I’m not going to be wearing yellow Converse while I do that.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with yellow?”

“Nothing, but Eddie’s old guitar is red. Is it really so bad if I want to match my shoes with the guitar? I mean if I’m gonna die I wanna die looking hot.”

“Hey.” Eddie stood up, wrapping his arms protectively around your waist. “None of us are going to die during this, okay?”

“Eds,” you turned around to face him, holding his face in your hands. “I know we’re all getting out of this alive, it was just a joke.” You smiled up at him in the most reassuring way you could, surprised at his sudden seriousness.

“I- I know, it’s just… with everything that’s happened this past week, it’s too much to be making jokes about death.”

“Then, if I’m going to be performing a concert for bats that wanna eat me alive, I wanna be doing that looking hot. Better?”

“Much, and don’t worry darlin’. You look hot no matter what shoes you wear.” The two of you shared a kiss, ignoring Dustin’s fake and loud gagging.

Dustin, Eddie, and you had just finished boarding up the Upside Down version of Eddie’s trailer. The three of you stared at your work in awe for a few moments.

“Not bad,” you commented.

“Not bad at all,” Eddie and Dustin replied in unison, putting a smile on your face. The dynamic between the two warmed your heart. You could tell they both needed each other.

“Now for the fun part.” Eddie chuckled, eyes locked with yours, your determined smile mirroring his.

All of you burst into his room, Eddie stopped in his tracks. He slowly walked toward the guitar hanging on his wall. “It’s like she was destined for an alternate dimension…”

You and Dustin shared a knowing look.

“I swear he gets turned on more by instruments than me when I dress like a slut,” you joked, receiving an amused and slightly disgusted look from him.

“I heard that,” Eddie deadpanned, turning around to face you with his hands on his hips.

“It’s true, though. Now, let’s find the guitar I’ll be playing babe. Is it in Wayne’s room?”

“Uhhh… yeah I think my old guitar should be in his room. Y’know we’re pretty lucky that this place has time travelled to right before I broke my uncle’s guitar but right after I got this new one.”

“FUCK THIS LOOKS SO SICK!” you call out from Wayne’s room, walking back to Eddie and Dustin with a sleek electric guitar, similar to the one Eddie holds in his hands but in a dark shade of red with shiny black highlights.

“Hell, sweets, you made fun of me about getting excited over my guitar? Look at you,” your boyfriend quipped, but truly he was fawning over you fawning over his old guitar. One of the things he loves about you is that the two of you share so many mutual interests.

The three of you had just settled on top of Max’s house and set up when you got the message from Robin to move on to Phase 3.

“Copy that, initiating Phase 3.” Dustin plugged in the cords connecting your guitars to the amp. “Let’s hope they hear this.”

“Let’s,” you responded, both you and Eddie taking your picks off of your matching necklaces and preparing to start playing.

You had been slightly nervous when Eddie told you his song choice considering that although you both knew Master of Puppets by heart, you’d never once played it together. But when you strummed out a few heavy metal chords at the same time, you figured it’d work itself out.

As the two of you played, the loud squawks and screeches of demobats could be heard. You ignored it, focusing on playing in time with your boyfriend.

Honestly, of course you loved the song and absolutely jumped at the chance of playing a song you love in the Upside Down, you weren’t entirely sure why you had decided that playing guitar was the best way to gain the bats’ attention.

Your best guess was that, despite how sure Eddie had seemed of it earlier, there was a good chance that not all of you were going to leave this damned place alive. And you’re sure that your boyfriend would’ve wanted to play this song at least once before you guys die.

As you heard the song near what you assumed was Eddie’s favourite part, you paused, allowing him to play out the chorus as a solo.

You stood, almost drooling over how hot he looked right then and there, jamming out to a song you both loved and doing something he was passionate about.

Also the face he made while playing always awoke the butterflies in your stomach. God he was hot.

“Y/n, you gonna join me or is the rest of this song gonna be a solo, hmmm?” Eddie’s voice snapped you out of your, rather inappropriate, seeing as you were currently trying to save the world, train of thought.

“Sorry!” You continued playing.

“Guys!” Dustin screamed over both the music and the demobats’ cries, “We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!”

The two of you shared a look and then turned to Dustin and gave him a nod. The young boy was clearly counting down in his head and when he gave you the warning of 20 seconds, you immediately dished out a riff which led to the two of you shredding the electric guitar until time ran out.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things finale #stranger things 4 #stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things x reader #asks answered <3

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leos-regression-cove · 1 year

Text

The New Little

23. Rainy Rains and Choo-Choo Trains

Synopsis: Thor and Sylvie get the littles ready to go see Frigga in her retirement community.

Word count: 1,025

Stand Alone?: 1/?

Warnings: reference to breast feeding

Notes: If you've been keeping up with me on here, you already know how excited I am for this arc. It's 40 pages long at the moment of posting this and growing (but this chapter is very short), and plotted with the 3 act structure of a traditional novel. I consider this chapter to be a scene setter or prologue.

Read it on AO3!

“Thor?!” Sylvie yelled from the other room.

“Hm?!” he responded as loudly as he could.

“It’s starting to rain!”

“I see it!” he told her. “I have them!”

Loki, in just his diaper, sorted through the clothes in his closet, like every day, while Thor put Mobius in some corduroy overalls, helping him get his legs through the holes and making sure the straps weren’t twisted as the little tried his best to click them into place around the bib, sitting on the open edge of his crib.

The sides had been left down for a couple of days now.

“I don’t think they’ll let you onto the train looking like that,” Thor told the nearly naked toddler still sitting on the floor.

Loki stuck out his lower lip.

“How about we get you into a matching outfit?” Thor suggested. “Mummy would find that precious.”

Sylvie poked her head in while Thor buttoned up the straps over Loki’s shoulders. “Look at you two all matchy-matchy!” she cooed.

Mobius smiled and hopped down from his bed to run up to her. “Momma, we go!” he told her, flapping his hands by his shoulders and bouncing on his tip toes.

“We are going to go somewhere!” she agreed, “that is, if you and Loki can put your shoes and socks on.” She reached behind him to pull out a drawer and began to help him with this difficult part of dressing.

“There we go, you’ve little kitties on your feet now!”

“Kitties!” he repeated.

“Kit-ties!” Loki squeaked back as he looked through his own sock drawer to find a pair.

“Here are your kitties!” Sylvie told him, showing him the second pair of cat socks in her hands.

Then, soon, Thor picked Loki up and lugged him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and grabbed the little’s diaper bag and suitcase as he did so.

Sylvie on the other hand, squeezed Mobius’ hand and briskly led him behind the brothers.

Then, when she could leave him with Thor and Loki, she ran inside to grab a stroller.

“Why did you grab that one?” Thor asked.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Loki’s pretty big, and Mobius is walking on his own, do we need to take the baby one?”

“It’s comfy for them! And we might as well get our money’s worth,” she reasoned, stuttering a little. “Look how nicely it fits all the bags, too!” That part was true, as the reclined seat did cradle the bags nicely.

Thor shrugged.

The stroller hardly fit on the train, but there was a spot in the corner of a car where Sylvie could put it. If nothing else, it was a little more compact than the toddler stroller was.

Thor set Loki down on a seat just before the train started to move, one that faced a small table. “No! No backwards!” the little one fussed as the car lurched forward.

Sylvie sighed, cut her losses, and let the tall little awkwardly try to sit in her arms, clinging onto her with his bum on the table so he could face forward, just like Thor and Mobius.

At first, she tried to ignore him, and instead hold a normal conversation with her co-caregiver, but unfortunately, Loki was too cute and she ended up running her fingers through his hair and petting his back.

“Ah ah, nope, we’re not doing this that way right now,” she said very suddenly when his squirmy hands began to lift her shirt up.

Loki murmured something incomprehensible.

“If you’re hungry, this is all I’m going to give you right now.” She reached down just slightly to grab a bottle out of the diaper bag by her feet and tucked it into her neck for him.

“Trains always turn you into such a little baby, hm?” she smiled. “Are you going to be a baby when you see your mum?”

Loki didn’t do much to answer, besides readjusting his arms around her and making a tiny peeping coo.

“Are you seeing what Mobius is up to?”

Mobius almost seemed startled as his attention was ripped away from window-watching by Loki tugging on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Bee! Mo-bee!” Loki cooed.

Mobius reached over the table to pet the little one’s hair, running the inky curls through his fingers just like he had seen Sylvie do. “Hi Loki!”

“Ooh! You got the ‘L’ look at you!” Sylvie smiled.

“Mobius, are you feeling big today?” Thor asked.

The little nodded.

“Big enough to try one of Loki’s favorite games?”

“Bigger n Loki!” he exclaimed.

Thor rooted around in the diaper bag for a coloring book as well as a box of crayons and set them out for Mobius on the table.

The boy flipped through and landed on a page he liked before selecting a color and sliding the box over to Thor.

“Would you like me to color with you?” Thor asked.

The little one nodded silently as he got to work. So, Thor grabbed a crayon and joined him.

Frigga’s retirement community was four hours and two train transfers away. Precisely the reason that Thor had taken the time to convince Sylvie to spend the night there. Lord knows it hadn’t been her first idea.

By the time that this third train had stopped, Loki had only grown more awake, hyperactive, and grown-up in headspace-- up to his very top limit of three years old to impress his mother with what a big boy he was, much to Sylvie’s disappointment.

Luckily, she still had one more little to baby.

“You know, if you don’t take a nap soon you’ll have to take one at nana’s,” she told Mobius flippantly. “Are you sure you don’t need to sit in the stroller? We wouldn’t want a repeat of last week.”

Cautiously, he agreed and sat down, letting Sylvie buckle him in. Even though he crossed his arms and didn’t dare touch any of the toys.

The pattering of rain on the nylon fabric shielding him from the rain and fleece baby blanket over him, must’ve felt quite nice.

For a moment, Sylvie almost felt jealous.

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ghost-ghost-baby · 3 years

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We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 1/?

Pt 2 / pt. 3

A/n: kinda annoyed that I had to split this but it’s almost 2k words so,,,, another series is born!!!

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: omegaverse, obvi, yandere themes (my boi Izuku is a stalker), possessiveness, pining, hurt/comfort, reader is kinda dense, mad swearing,

“So are you and Bakugo like- ya know-?” Mina mimed what you assumed was meant to be a bonding bite, and you thanked god Katsuki was elsewhere.

You were sitting in the college park with Denki and Mina, and since you were approaching your 21st birthday, when alphas usually decided on their mate, or mates if they wanted a triad, and they were grilling you to high heaven-

“No, we’ve just know each other since we were teenagers so we’re just kinda close friends!” You waved your arms frantically, and Mina just raised her eyebrows as Denki laughed.

“Bro- we’ve seen him scent you, you’re always lending him your jackets that reeks of you, and you’re trying to say the two of you aren’t courting?” The blonde stopped laughing just long enough to ask, but he dissolved back into laughter when your flustered scent filled the space.

“I tried to bring it up with Katsuki but you know what he’s like! I asked what he was gonna do for his heat and he locked me out of the apartment! I don’t think he wants an alpha at all, really-“ you stopped the second your nose picked up the familiar burnt sugar smell, frantically shushing Mina and Denki when they made kissing noises as Katsuki approached.

“You forgot your fucking lunch, dumbass.” He dropped a bag in your lap, completely ignoring your friends as he inhaled and then gently shoved your head. “Why the fuck do you smell so worked up?” The hint of concern in his voice made your heart twinge, maybe you did wish things were different, but you pushed that thought aside as you reassured him nothing was wrong and you were just worried about a test. Katsuki believed you, barely, reminding you not to be late to dinner before he stalked off to god knows where, Denki and Mina bombarding you the second he was out of sight.

You were two minutes from home when you smelt it, an omegas scent that was so distressed it almost had you gagging. You back tracked your steps to where it was strongest, heart dropping when you couldn’t see down the alley but could hear some kind of scuffle. Katsuki was going to kill you. You walked down the alley as quietly as you could, the distressed scent only getting stronger and sending your protective instincts into overdrive, and if you weren’t so worried maybe you would have stopped to wonder why the omegas scent was affecting you so much.

“But you smell so sweet omega, surely you’re close to your heat?” That voice made your skin crawl, and the nails you had been digging into your palm were quickly turning into claws.

“I-I’m not really, please, I just want to go home- I’m sure you have places to be-“ the second voice trembled and your heart broke at the fear in it, that must be the omega.

“Bullshit, we can fuckin smell how much you want it-“ the third voice was accompanied by a thud, and distressed chirps followed, pushing you over the line and causing a growl to rip out of your throat.

“Well look here, somembody else wants to join-“ the sleazeballs voice cut off when you stepped into the light, your teeth bared with your canines extended, when an alpha was this pissed off the best thing to do was run. You kinda hoped they didn’t.

“Don’t worry man, we can all share him-“ The second one tried to passify you, but couldn’t help baring his neck in submission when you let out an even louder growl, your angered scent pumping off of you in waves.

“Leave. Now. Before I make sure the two of you never fucking mate anyone.” A feral grin spread over your face at their fearful scents, unable to resist tripping one of them when they ran past. Only once they’d disappeared onto the Main Street did you register the distressed chirps coming from the figure hunched on the ground, and your scent instantly switched to as comforting as you could get it, subconsciously crooning to try and calm the omega down. It seemed to work, and you gently crouched down across from him, desperately wanting to hug him but not wanting to over step. The decision was made for you, however, when the omega launched at you, rubbing his cheek against yours and thanking you over and over in one of the sweetest voices you’d ever heard.

“Hey no problem, uh, what’s your name?” You asked when he finally calmed down, pulling back just enough to take out his features. You almost got a nosebleed. Teary emerald eyes and matching green hair framed his face, with freckles dusting his cheeks and a slight blush covering his entire face, you were so in awe you almost didn’t hear his name.

“Sorry! I’m Izuku Midoryia- I live just down the street and was walking home when these guys chased me down here, thank you so much for saving me!” He hesitated, and you realised you hadn’t even told him your name.

“Oh! I’m y/n l/n! Do you live in the big blue apartment complex?” You gently stood up, reaching down to help Midoriya up with you, and ignoring how warm you felt when he immediately nuzzled into your side.

“Yeah! Do you know it? I only moved in a couple days ago!”

“I actually live there with my friend, I can walk you home if you’re comfortable with that?” You almost died when he let out a happy chirp, he was so cute.

“That would be so amazing, are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“Oh course not- anything to make sure you get home safely!

Midoriya had moved into the apartment opposite yours, (you were too tired to wonder if it was more than a coincidence) and the two of you had laughed about it before you said goodbye, promising to catch up again at a later date. Now, you were standing outside your apartment door, ready to face the music from what would surely be a very, very angry friend. Katsukis enraged scent hit you the second you walked in the door, almost completely covering the smell of the ramen that must have been dinner, and you called out as you took off your shoes.

“Katsuki, I’m home, sorry I’m so late! You wouldn’t believe what-“ you were cut off by a growl, slowly straightening up and looking across the room to where your housemate stood. Katsuki stalked towards you, and you froze when you saw how wide his pupils were blown, was he really that pissed about you being late?

“Why the fuck do you reek like some scared omega.” He snarled, and your eyes zoned in on how his fangs had elongated. Shit, this was bad, was he nearing his preheat? That could make make him more sensitive-

“Funny story- I was walking home and I heard this commotion and…” you trailed off when he reached you, red eyes fixed on your neck in a way that made you blush.

“I don’t care, you smell fucking disgusting.” He pulled you close once he reached you, and you were too scared to say anything, face going bright red when he rubbed his scent glands over you, until your scent just smelt like him.

“That’s better, now we can actually eat before you shower and get the remainder of that stench off of you.”

Katsuki didn’t know why he was so on edge, and when you came home smelling familiar, that mint and honey scent that he hadn’t encountered in years, his instincts had pushed him over the edge. You were his, how dare you let some other omega scent you? The two of you were practically together, he cooked for you and scented you, and you’d scent blankets and pillows and such for his nest, so why the fuck were you coming home reeking like that? He was just waiting until you turned 21 and had your rut for the two of you to seal the deal. He couldn’t sleep, growling to himself as he realised the only way he’d get any rest was with you. The apartment was dark as he quietly opened his door, walking down the hallway and not even hesitating before he opened the door to your room. You were asleep in the middle of the bed, hair a mess over the pillows and your shirt rumpled up so your midriff was exposed. The room was saturated in your content scent, and Katsuki let out a sigh of relief when that was all he could smell, other than his own scent quickly spreading through the room and mingling with yours. He padded over to the bed, crawling under the covers and positioning himself so he was facing you, his face pressed to your neck and one arm thrown over you. You mumbled something in your sleep but didn’t wake, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a happy chirp when you automatically rested your arm on his waist, pulling him closer till your legs were tangled together. It was… more peaceful than he was used to, and he pushed down the nagging feeling that something was missing, your scent and warmth quickly lulling him to sleep.

#omegaverse #bnha #bnha x reader #yandere x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere izuku x reader #bakugou x reader #poly #izuku x reader #omega izuku #omega bakugou #omega Katsuki #omega midoriya izuku #alpha reader #bnha omegaverse #bnha yandere

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sanzu-sanzu-sanzu · 3 years

Text

songs about toxic people 7*

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

—

*IMPORTANT NOTE: this is more like an interlude/bonus chapter actually centering more on misc bonten x reader Gen! interactions. it still ties in with the whole story, it’s just there’s less to zero sanzu in this one cus the focus will be more on the other bonten haha, so if you’re here exclusively for sanzu x reader, you may skip this if you like! 😬

it’s just i got these headcanons that idk what to do with and also they are somewhat short 😭

—

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

chapter 7: We may not be a perfect family but we love each other (until we don’t) - koko

Koko thinks of cats when he thinks of you; partly from the circumstances of your first meeting, partly ‘cause of the way you sort of simply glide in and out of rooms quietly with the stealth and fluidity of one.

(Although Sanzu had insisted he thought more of ghosts and wraiths, a comment which Koko only made light of even though he wasn’t wrong.)

She even kinda fights like a feline, he’d told Inupi one time all those years ago, as he thought of the way your lithe and minimal movements were always able to take bigger guys down along with the quiet ferocity to match.

Maybe she learns from all the cats back in the shrine, Inupi responded—a joke, essentially, in his own terms. Koko suppressed a smile: cat and dog, you and her, maybe that’s why you two get along so well went his own, sad attempt at humor, because you and your second-in-command were obviously very close and very unlike cats and dogs. The joke, however, sadly did not seem to land, and Inupi’s forehead only creased, his expression dumbfounded.

That’s not how it works.

Koko never forgets the day you were first introduced by Mikey. It’s at the back of Toman’s abandoned shrine, at the edge of the thick forest surrounding the area, that their new leader had said they’ll be meeting Black Dragon’s temporary captain. He never specified what anyone would be doing in the forest at this hour in the afternoon, and neither him nor Inupi had asked, but then there you were: in your bare feet and in your school uniform, attempting to move a big pot of plant from one spot of land to another, your expression almost annoyed. (At the pot, most likely, which did not seem to budge.)

Mikey called your attention still a few meters afar:

“Hey. Whatcha up to—”

in a tone that very clearly did not seem to intend to place whatever you were up to above this particular Toman business at the moment, so really, it would not have made any difference whether you answered or not. Which you didn’t, only glancing at your president once—not with the angry expression, at least—before continuing with your ordeal.

The pot nudged just a tiny bit.

Only when Mikey finally stopped right in front of you and you noticed Koko’s and Inupi’s figures behind him did you finally stand straight, looking at Mikey quizzically. “What’s up?” Quick nods to Inupi and him. “Hello.”

Mikey briefly introduced all of you and proceeded to explain that you were to be formally placed as the Black Dragon’s new captain today, to which your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh, I thought you said tomorrow.”

Mikey hesitated at first but then shrugged. “Hm, they came here already today so I thought might as well. Come on, it’ll be quick.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and then to his two quiet companions but then so agreed anyway, and as Mikey ushered you in front nobody else aside from Koko seemed to notice your lack of shoes. You’d only taken a few steps ahead when you tugged at the sleeve of Mikey’s coat, making him pause.

“I don’t have my Toman jacket,” which was obvious but was not what Koko was expecting for you to say, if he were to be honest.

Mikey looked at you blankly. “Well, where is it?”

“Well, something happened to it,” was your only vague response, but then you turned your head to where you just came from making all three boys follow suit. On a wooden bench slightly obscured by the plants were a family of cats consisting of a mother and her kittens, all sleeping peacefully in a cozy pile on top of your balled up Toman jacket.

“Oh. Okay.” Mikey only nodded like he completely understood. Without thinking about it twice, Sano Manjiro, Tokyo Manji gang’s No. 1—feared around the streets of Tokyo, bowed to no one and stepped over everyone—took off his billowing Toman coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, you can borrow mine,” he simply said. “I mean, you gotta look the part.”

Your mouth stretched into a grin.

Beside him, Inupi gave Koko a quick, wordless glance accompanied by that tiny, upward curve on the corner of his mouth that anyone else could’ve missed. Inupi rarely smiled at anything anymore those days—perhaps one of the reasons why this singular, initial meeting had stuck in his mind all these years. It’s one of those memories Koko always thought he could probably live without, occupying a quiet little corner in his mind which, frankly, a much more practical or life-changing memory could have occupied, if it were up to him. But then there you were with your cats and your air of schoolgirl abandon making Inupi smile, an information that he simply didn’t know what to do about.

“Alright, boss. But please, no speeches.”

This made Mikey laugh. “Can’t promise you that, I’m sorry.” It’s only after a few more steps that Mikey did finally notice your bare feet.

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

“Oh, they got wet,” you quietly said. “I was playing with the cats…” and three pairs of eyes stared at you like it wasn’t enough of an answer. “With a hose. Manjiro, I was watering the plants.”

And so you stood atop the shrine steps while addressing the men from Black Dragons, your feet bare and covered in scratches and the Toman president’s much bigger coat over your shoulders. Nobody questioned the absence of shoes—at least not out loud—not with your leader Manjiro right by your side, in his flip flops holding a half-eaten taiyaki in one hand.

The memory comes unannounced in snips and pieces some years later as another Bonten meeting ends. There’s various movements around the table by now, but then Koko catches your undivided staring as you sat across from him, your chin propped up against one hand. He ignores you for a short while as he fixes his things, until he finally decides to look up.

“Anything wrong?”

You suddenly purse your lips in a small smile amidst the gloomy and rigid air of mid-morning Monday meetings and for a moment, it’s as if Koko is thinking of another memory.

“I just realized you kinda look like my Mr. Kaku,” is all you say. The little remark makes not-your Kakucho look up from the document he’s reading without really turning his head, while Rindou who is seated beside you squints—in curiosity or amusement, Koko can’t tell. From his own right side, Takeomi is slowly angling his head as if meaning to take a better look at Koko behind his curtain of silver hair.

Mr. Kaku, of course, is your pet cat, the one with the smooth silver fur that you’d rescued from an abandoned site during an out-of-town business trip some months ago. You and your unimaginative pet naming sense landed on “Mr. Kaku,” in honor of your then-partner Kakucho who had volunteered to keep the cat inside his bag thru the doors of the hotel that didn’t allow pets. But he looks nothing like Kaku, Manjiro had quipped, earning a few grunts of approval from your ever-biased circle, but you couldn’t have been bothered so you stuck with the name.

Koko is quick to decipher that in your-speak, cat comparisons are more or less compliments and never a form of insult—not that in your mid-20s, you all haven’t already gotten above petty verbal affronts, after all. So he humors you, eyes now back to his things but with his attention still on the matter at hand. “What, is it the hair?”

“Yeah, it’s the hair,” Rindou says before you can answer, his head lolling lazily on one shoulder. “Can’t believe no one had noticed before.”

“And the eyes,” you simply nod. “They both got these nice, sharp eyes.”

Would you have named him Mr. Koko if you thought he resembled Kokonoi before? is the one lingering question that none of the men around you bother to ask.

It’s only a couple of weeks later, after another Bonten meeting, when Koko hands you a souvenir from his weekend business trip: a red cat collar with a customized pendant, a tiny enamel engraving of your Bonten tattoo. The pendant is black on one side and gold on the other, and the small gasp you let out makes every head in the room turn—the almost unfamiliar, genuine sound of delight thawing the usual morning’s stern atmosphere.

“There’s a shop right across the hotel where they make rush engravings like that.” Koko is saying casually like it’s no big deal, but he sees the expression on your face and he can’t help but grin. “Thought Mr. Kaku might like it.”

Your eyes perk up at the mention of ‘Mr. Kaku’ like Koko is the first person to ever acknowledge that Mr. Kaku doesn’t need to be named anything else apart from ‘Mr. Kaku.’ “Oh, it’s perfect, Koko. I’ll send you pictures once I make him wear it,” you say, your attention instantly back to your hands, choosing to ignore his ‘I think just one picture might be enough.’

From the other end of the room, Sanzu is making his way towards the door. “Congratulations,” he smirks as he passes by behind you, quirking one eyebrow up at Koko. “Now she won’t be shutting up about it all weekend,” because Sanzu will be spending the next three days with you over in another city to conduct business with another drug scion, of course.

Across the table, Kakucho only sighs before shaking his head. “I still wish you could’ve picked a better name for your cat,” he says—a valid complaint, Koko thinks bemusedly, now that your own Mr. Kaku looks more like a feline version of himself.

chapter 8 >

this one goes out to my closest friends the ones who make me feel less alien

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tobi-momo · 3 years

Text

You Belong With Me

“What was she so mad about?” Your voice bleeds through his phone as he scribbles on his homework with his number two pencil, sighing at your question. He looks up briefly to his window to see you at your desk across your two properties’ filing the papers for your math class, organizing your work. Your phone is sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes narrowed as you focus on what assignments are what.

“Kei?”

He shakes his head as his mind snaps out of the daze, his golden eyes flicking down to his work. “Uh,” he sighs as he re-grips his pencil, “I teased her a little bit and she got mad,” he finished. You chuckled before covering your mouth with your hand, finally looking up at the man through your clear panes.

“You’re kidding,” you giggle, a smile leading onto Kei’s face while he listens to your voice, although refusing to look up at your face, he shakes his head in a joking dismissal.

“No, I’m not. But we are never mentioning it again.”

“Oh, good luck getting me to keep quiet!” You shout as your back straightens against your desk chair, a smug look playing on your face once the blond male looks up at you.

He stands up, a reciprocating smirk laying on his lips before he says, “You will,” before he takes his phone away from his ear, pressing the “hang up” button and raising his arm to close the drapes. You laugh with satisfaction while you exit his contact, turning on some music and tossing your phone on your bed before cleaning up your area and strumming your fingers like an imaginary guitar.

He opened his curtains expecting to see you sulking while doing your work, only to see you dance like an idiot while you blast your music, your pencils acting as a microphone as you perform your concert in front of your stuffed animals. He could hear the music from across the yard, him identifying it as your shared playlist that you two made a couple years back, the duration over fifteen hours as about three-hundred songs reside. An accidental chuckle escaped him as his eyes rested on your jumping figure for just a couple seconds. It was for entertainment. Yeah. That’s it.

~.~.~.~

Sticking your fabric marker on the construction paper, you write out your message to Kei.

“I love you”. It was a message that would tell him that he deserves the best and nothing less. It was something that you treasured and wanted to share that value with him. Something that told him that he belonged with you.

You hoped that one day you’d be able to give it to him, to tell him how you really feel, to show that you can do a better job than her, but you never got the chance. Carrying the folded slip in your pocket, ready to pull out, his phone rings. As you sit on the bench on the side of the road, you wonder how long it had been since you had seen him really smile. You had made him smile a lot before, even if he doesn’t smile a lot genuinely, there are some times where real happiness seeps through his facade. You like it when that happens, always have. You noticed how much his happiness had reduced over the course of these last few months, though.

He answers the phone very monotone, very uninterested. He sounded obligated while he spoke to his girlfriend, sighing sharply once he hung up.

“What was that about?”

“Just drama. Kind of sick of it at this point.” He sticks his phone in his pocket, looking over to your concerned expression. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he says while rolling his eyes, placing a soft hand on your head and letting it rest. His hand retracted quickly when the sound of his name rings through his ears, his head whipping towards his girlfriend's figure. He readjusts his glasses, sitting straight up and swinging the strap of his school bag over his shoulder before he gets up and sluggishly walks across the street, meeting up with the one he was set to have a date with later. He subtly waved to you prior to turning his head away and continuing his stroll with his date hanging on his arm. You ignore the glare served your way when you wave back to him, forgetting the multiple reasons of why you wanted him away from her so he can enjoy his date. Hopefully.

~.~.~.~

As you stand on the bleachers of Kei’s game, you watch him stride over the court and jump to block the ball, a playful smirk residing on his lips as he sends the ball to the other side. You clap for him, shouting praises his way in hopes he might hear you over everyone else. Especially her. The screaming and unnecessary noise making your ears bleed a bit. You didn’t mean to be irritated by it, but the pulse on your forehead and the grit of your teeth made it painfully obvious you didn’t really like her.

When the end of the game hit, you were overloaded with joy at Kei’s victory. You hurriedly make your way over to him before gripping him tightly in a hug, not caring about the sweat that drips off his body. You could feel his arms flex as he raised his arms to hesitantly reciprocate your actions until his arms completely dropped, his body stiff.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he firmly moved you aside to walk away. Following after him, you let your head peek out from the side of his back, watching it all occur in front of you. “What’s this?”

“What? Nothing, Kei,” she mewls, setting her hands on her boyfriend’s shirt as if she thought he was silly.

“Yeah, we were just, uh, talkin’.” The man before her fibs.

“Not according to what I just saw,” Kei accuses the two with a furrowed brow, fed up. You come out from behind him, glaring at his girlfriend in hate. This was it.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” the man dismisses, turning to keep the conversation with her going.

Stepping forward, you place an arm in front of Kei, stopping his movements as you eye his girlfriend. “Tell me you were not just flirting with this man and we’ll leave.”

“I wasn-”

“Don't,” you pause, taking a deep breath as you watch her take a step back, “don’t lie to me, or you will regret it,” you threaten, a sharp glint in your eye telling her that you are oh so serious about this. Behind you, Kei watches as you make his girlfriend stammer on her words, a subconscious smile leaking on his face.

She stomps away with anger, the man beside her moving away as well, scoffing.

~.~.~.~

He didn’t say much on the way home; you trailed behind him as he walked away in part anger and denial. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you go back and find the girl and beat some sense into her? Should you give some words of the wise to Kei? Would he even take it?

As you watch him slow down to match your pace, you grow confused. You were headed to your place, so why was he suddenly following? “Kei?” He hums in response, his head hanging low. “Would you like to stay at my place? I can make coffee and we can stay up shit-talking our least favorite people,” you giggle and softly bump into his side, a stifled chuckle escaping him.

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an obvious smile as he continues to walk with you. When you quietly shut the door and take your shoes off, you softly tread to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine- the man that you took home followed, his arm planting on the marble counter as his eyes trail over your moving figure.

As you sit on the stool next to him beside your kitchen island, you converse about the drama he’s been scooped in, him rolling his eyes twice a minute and his irritation level going off the charts as he recalls the events. He hated it, you could tell. He made it pretty obvious he wasn’t happy about it, too.

“Are you still going to the dance with her tomorrow then?” You speak curiously, twirling your fingers around each other while staring blankly into the marble as you awkwardly sit there, awaiting an answer.

It takes him a second to respond, a long sigh and a deep thought coming into play in his mind once he looks over to your spaced expression. Does he really want to go? Did he want to go with her, or with someone else- you? “Probably.”

Oh. “Are you sure you wanna do that? After what happened today?”

“Why not. Nothing better to do,” he justifies, shrugging. Yeah, you probably should have seen that coming.

The note that resided in your pocket seemed to crumple a little bit when you came to terms with the fact that he may never notice you the way you wanted him to.

~.~.~.~

“Are you going?” Kei asks over his phone as he takes his suit out of his closet.

“Ah, no,” you breathe out as guilt pools in your stomach, your elbow balancing sitting on your desk while dozing off into something that is not mathematical equations.

“Oh,” is all he says before telling you he needed to get ready, giving his goodbye.

After the call ends, you see the light fading away from his room as he closes the drapes, giving you a sign to start working again. You wondered what would happen if you possibly showed up. You originally were going to go, but the date that canceled soon beforehand gave your mind a gentle squeeze, telling you that the dance wasn’t for you. Still, the tiniest urge told you to make an appearance. You groan in waver, giving in.

~.~.~.~

You felt good. You felt really good. Wearing your planned outfit to this dance, you make your way inside carefully, minding the crowd. You catch the eye of the one girl that you held a grudge against, watching her grope another man on the dance floor. You roll your eyes in disgust as you move your head around to find a tall blond in the crowd. He leaned against the wall across from you his arms crossed while his dilated pupils trace the light that bounces off the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him, his attention whipping to you as he raises his head.

“Hi,” he reluctantly answers you while standing straight up, a relieved smirk leading onto his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t want to put my outfit to waste,” you smile, spreading your arms to show your attire.

“Yeah, well you came at perfect timing,” he points towards his girlfriend which you identified earlier, although he seemed like he didn’t care all that much.

Gripping the folded paper in your pocket, you slip it out with two fingers confidently. “I have something to tell you,” you admit, your eyes staying centered on his black suit.

“Go on,” he eggs, hands staying at the side of his body while he watches you fluster yourself. It takes you less than a second to shove the note in his stomach and turn around, your face turning hotter and hotter every moment. Your hands lay against your cheeks as your nerves rattle beneath your skin, your ears tingling when you hear a sweet chuckle glide against his lips. “You should have told me a long time ago, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to deal with,” his eyebrows turn up as his head tips towards the dancing figure just a couple of feet away from you guys, “...that.”

You turn around slowly, disbelief covering your face when you look at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me this,” you gesture at the both of you with your pointer finger, “could have been something a long time ago?”

He sucks in through his teeth, taking a grip on your arm and pulling you with him as he walks through the crowd to the middle of the room. “Yep. Guess you missed out.”

“Says you,” you roll your eyes with attitude as you pick up your pace and place your hand in his.

He knew he belonged with you, he was just wondering when you would admit that.

aaa here it is! three days of work! sry i havent been posting lately ive been working <3 (reupload bc tumblrs a little bitch)

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are VERY appreciated!

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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years

Text

Drabble Interest Check #1

So just a quick recap, refer to my previous post for a more in depth explanation- I wanna start sharing some drabbles I write more off of a whim, when idea’s hit me really suddenly, and I just start writing them down, and they never turn into much afterwards. But, I thought if I shared them with you guy’s, maybe they’d prompt some inspo to request more, to turn them into full fics, with a full story- as most of my drabbles spawn from me thinking of one specific scenario, and building off of it a bit until I get to a drabble length- or more, as this one is nearly 2K lol don’t ask me how, I was super into it as I was writing. Or urge me to try and and add a real start and finish to them, so put out as full fic’s myself. I also think these drabbles will give you a guys a better idea of what I like to write, what I'm willing to write, and what I'm open to writing. As my drabbles usually hit more angst and nsfw/kink notes. ‘Problematic’ or otherwise. I’ll add some notes to the end of the fic to give an idea of what I had in mind with this drabble, and go more in depth on that. But here it is, I'm actually very proud of this one, and hope to figure out how to finish it at some point. Established Enji Todoroki X Male!Reader Additionally: Natsuo Todoroki x Male!Reader angst, unrequited love (or is it? ;3))

Shuffling into the kitchen, you grimaced as the carpet turned to cold, hard tile below your feet- wrapping your arms around yourself as you did your best to stay quiet, rummaging around the Todoroki kitchen for some snacks. You’d woken up restless, your stomach growling, and after prying yourself from underneath Enji’s death grip, you’d worked up quite the appetite. The soft sizzle of pork on the stove could be heard soon enough. Not too loud, but that, alongside the soft beeping of the rice cooker, and the delicious scent of your cooking wafting across the lower levels of the house, are what woke Natsuo from a fitful sleep. Rubbing both of his eyes with his fists, Natsuo yawned. Brow lifted in question as he sniffed the air, and checked the clock. Who the hell was cooking at two in the morning?

Legs swinging off the bed, he stuffed his feet in his house shoes, and set off towards the kitchen. Yawning as he went, lifting up his shirt briefly to rub at his stomach, as he came to a stop in the kitchen doorway. The scents pouring out of it pulling a soft moan from his lips, his stomach twisting with want.

Though not just for food anymore. Not when he saw you moving swiftly around the kitchen, like you’d cooked there your whole life. Trying to be silent, but humming under your breath quietly. Clad in nothing but a pair of sleep shorts...and one of Natsuo’s fathers much larger shirts. The younger Todoroki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, ignoring the steering jealousy that raged within him, in favor of whistling lowly, catching your eye, and offering you a shake of his head, and a soft smile as he moved around the island, towards you. You had enough sense to at least look apologetic, though Natsuo quickly shrugged it off, coming around to inspect your cooking briefly, before allowing himself to be dragged into a hug by you. Something he could vaguely recall being off put by, the first time his father had introduced you to them all. Your affection. Your ability to be so close in so little time. Trusting, caring, sweet, kind. Intimate touch of any kind was something Natsuo had rejected all his life- well, when he could start rejecting it- as his own advances for comfort and touch as a child had been snuffed out quickly. Point being, it had taken him a while for him to come around to you being so...hands on, with him. Seeing you be so hands on with his siblings. It settled something, deep within himself, he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge even existed, but it helped. It helped a lot. Though now, Natsuo rationed quietly in his own mind...now maybe he took things too far. His hands slung around your waist, your arms around Natsuo’s neck- hands in his soft, white hair, face in the boy's neck, where it would usually be pressed to Enji’s chest. You and Natsuo were almost the same height, though Natsuo had you beat on mass- taking after his father already, broad shouldered: muscular. Handsome. He was going to be a fine young man some day...he already was, really. An uncomfortable flip of your stomach followed as Natsuo nuzzled into your neck- and you were quick to pull back slowly after, patting the boys chest with a smile, looking up at him through your lashes briefly, before turning to the stove to flip the cuts of pork in the pan. “Are you hungry?” You whispered, almost conspiratorially, grinning as Natsuo blushed, laughing under his breath, before nodding. “Good. Grab two bowls, it’s almost finished.” You both ate in relative silence, only your contented sighs, and Natsuo’s soft affirmations of how good the food was. As always. You even had Fuyumi beat when it came to certain dishes. Though he’d never tell his sister that. When the food was gone, and all that were left were empty plates, you lead Natsuo back to the large family room, adjacent to the kitchen, both of you taking seats on either side of the love seat/ feet tangled together under a blanket you threw over you both, before dissolving into random, half asleep conversation. Stomachs full, bodies warm, and pliable. Your eyes closed as you recalled something from your childhood- natsuo suddenly wide awake, as his eyes drifted down over your neck, counting your freckles, and blushing as His fathers shirt rode down far enough to see some of your chest hair, and the definition between your pecs. God you were handsome, Natsuo thought, consumed with the need to lean over and press his face info your chest. Rip his fathers shirt off of you, and swaddle you in one of his collegiate sweatshirts instead. It would keep you warm so much better. Plus, Natsuo thought suddenly, heatedly: you’d just look good in something of his. The icy blue of Natsuo’s color palette reflected in your eyes. God... “Natsuo?” You called across to him, snapping the younger man out of his daydreaming- a deep crimson flushing down over his pale cheeks, as the younger Todoroki averted his gaze, and rubbed at his neck. “Sorry, I just...I got...I was somewhere else, for a moment. I apologize.” Natsuo finally stuttered out gruffly, staring off at the corner of the wall, trying to calm his thoughts. But they were swarming now, insistent, /fiery/, burning up his chest, and his mind. “It’s alright, I-“ “why-“ Natsuo caught himself, biting his tongue as he cut you off, feeling embarrassed. You paused, smiling and shaking your head as you motioned for the man to continue.

“....why are you with my father?” Natsuo finally asked. Voice soft, hesitant. But firm enough that it was clear he was demanding an answer this time. Because he’d asked this very same question just weeks after first meeting you. When you’d fixed the young man with a knowing gaze, rested a hand on his chest, and simply said “because I like him”. Natsuo couldn’t fathom anyone so much as tolerating his father, let alone liking him. So it was a bit jarring, to say the least. “Do we really have to go over this again?” Ah, Natsuo thought. So you remembered that too. “My father could live a thousand lives atoning for what he’s done, and it would never be enough to deserve someone like you,” Natsuo said, voice heavier now, a little louder, breaking the quiet space you’d created there on the sofa together. Gaze directly on you now. Your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes that looked at his father with such admiration, that it made Natsuo ill sometimes to bear witness to it. “You are not the sole keeper of your fathers misgivings, Natsuo. He hasn’t just hurt you. Whether you choose to see and actively acknowledge the man he’s trying to become, is on you, and I won’t force your hand or try and tell you how you should feel. But don’t question my love for your father, because it’s just that: mine.” You matched the young man's tone, voice even, and soft, yet affirmative- leaving no room for argument. Though Natsuo seemed to want to test that. “So you love the old man then, huh? You really love him?” Natsuo urged, sitting up suddenly, much closer now as you stared. “Not that it is any of your business, but yes, Natsuo, yes. I’m in love with your father, and I see myself living a long and happy life with him. Getting married, settling down, having-“ “having what? Kids?!” Natsuo questioned, eyes wide as he stared at you. You paused, wondering if this was a conversation you should be having with Enji at your side. Natsuo was sweet, and soft spoken- when it was with anyone who wasn’t his father, that is, since that usually resulted in a shouting match between the two. Now though, he was feeling combative apparently- questioning your decisions, which you didn’t appreciate in the slightest. “Please tell me you’re not stupid enough to want to have /children/ with that man?” Natsuo urged, half desperate, half pleading, as he sat up on his knees, nearly towering over you now as you looked down on you. “Watch. Your. Tone.” You warned him, sitting up so you were on even level again, noses nearly brushing as you did so. “Your father may put up with your snippy, accusatory remarks because he thinks allowing you to walk over him will somehow bring you two closer together, but I sure as fuck won’t.” Your cursing nearly made Natsuo flinch out of pure guilt, but he stood his ground. “You’re fooling yourself if you think he’d be any different with your kids. Look at how we turned out! Is that what you want for your own children? A childhood of solicitude and abuse, to feel unwanted, and uncared for? To wonder every night when they go to bed why their father doesn’t love them?! Is that what you want!” Natsuo was shouting now, panic rising in his throat, and you suddenly felt wholly unprepared for this conversation. “I’ll be damned if I allow that sorry excuse of a man and a father, to think about bringing up new children. Robbing you of your chance to have a real partner by your side. Someone to help you care for, and love your children. You...you deserve so much better than him, I don’t understand.” Natsuo was holding back tears now, chest heaving as he breathed, and you couldn’t take it. Gathering him up in your arms, you brought the man in for a tight hug. Cradling him in, and rubbing his back as he began to cry, mumbling nonsense into your neck as you just held him, and closed your eyes, willing back your own tears as you bared witness to something for the first time: the result of Enji’s fathering. Or, your brain offered up weakly: the lack thereof. Even more so...his abuse. Here you were, experiencing the aftermath first hand, and it made your heart hurt so deeply, and your mind race. You wanted to beat the shit out of Enji for doing this to Natsuo, but what could be done about it now? Enji was trying, he was trying so hard every day. But Natsuo was clinging to his hate, and his anger, and his fears, and who were you to tell him he should let them go? At least this way, you rationalized, you could be there for him when they became too much. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Im sorry,” you whispered into his hair, raking your fingers through it as Natsuo shuddered through another sob, and shook his head in your chest. “I'm so sorry, Natsuo. I’m so, so sorry.” He mumbled something then, body tense, refusing to be pulled back to see your face, even as you tried. “What?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to hear him better. “Do you love /us/?” ‘Me’. Do you love me he’d asked first, you realized, and your heart beat sped up as you did your best to squeeze Natsuo impossibly tighter- head in his hair as you nodded. “I love you all so much. Fuyumi, Shoto. I have love for your mother, and for Toya. And I love you, Natsuo, I love you so much. I’m honored to be able to call you my family now. I do love you,” you reassured him, shushing him quietly through a new set of sobs, before tensing when Natsuo suddenly sat up, hot breath and humid, tear stains cheeks ghosting across your face as icy grey eyes met yours. He was nearly panting with the effort to stop his crying, clearly looking for something as he stared at you, before he was leaning forward and smashing your lips together in a heated, desperate kiss.

thus concludes the drabble, now on to the end notes lol

So yeah, that’s it lol, lemme know what you guys think? The plan for this originally was to have some sort of double todoroki x male!reader endgame, where he’d end up with both Enji and Natsuo, by some means. Though not without a fair bit more angst thrown in. Arguments, fighting, etc etc. But I did wanna have them all three be endgame someway or another. Which, yes, would include incest. Whether direct or indirect, cuz one could make the argument they’re sort of just dating the same person, which is also fine- cuz it’s adorable to me, but they’d all be fucking at some point, even if most of the attention is solely on the male reader, it would happen. That’s part of the big reason I wanna do this drabble interest checks, because they give you a glimpse into my problematic mind, and you can decide for yourselves if you wanna stick around and be a part of it, or leave. Not to say poly relationships are problematic in the slightest, of course- I adore poly ships, and hope to write some in the future- but incest? Boy howdy. But I love it sksksk >;3 So lemme know what you guy’s think of this fic! If you want to see it continued, if so, how so? Feel free to ask me anon or otherwise about kink and dynamics, sfw or nsfw, if you’d like too. I’m gonna make an updated kink list with kinks I will be writing about eventually, so you can decide to stick around and see them, or show yourself out so they don’t bother you. My space is mine, so I will not be responding to, or entertaining people who want to be upset about them, or disagree with my tastes. It’ll get you nowhere, telling you right now. But yeah. Lemme know guys. <3 Vixen

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catchmewiddershins · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu Characters Overhearing their crush talking about them

Includes Iwaizumi, Suna and Tsukishima: Feel free to request more characters for future parts!

Iwaizumi Hajime:

Iwaizumi was cleaning the changing rooms outside the gym, having volunteered to take down the net and tidy up alone. Oikawa had been overworking himself again, and Iwaizumi had forced him to go home for some well-earned rest. As for the second and third years, they were tired, and Iwaizumi didn't particularly want to be left alone with a bunch of them, feeling slightly drained himself... Mattsun and Makki had gone home straight after practice, having a quiz in one of their classes that they needed to study for.

So there he was, mopping the floor and picking up stray volleyballs. The silence of the gym, previously interrupted only by the squeak of his shoes, was shattered by the sounds of laughter passing by. Iwaizumi felt his ears heat, he had recognised your laugh immediately, and hearing it always made his stomach twist into knots. You were walking past with a friend, on your way out of the school after working together in the library.

The two of you noticed which gym you had walked past, and your conversation turned to the club. "So?" Your friend ribbed, playfully elbowing you in the side, "Is that where that handsome volleyball player you like trains?"

"Don't make fun of my feelings!" You sighed dramatically, and Iwaizumi stifled a laugh. You were probably talking about Oikawa, he told himself. People were always fawning over Oikawa. He didn't begrudge his best friend the popularity, he was happy without it... But he couldn't help but wish that your affections were for him.

"What was his name again..." Your friend continued, "Iwatsun?"

You lightly shoved them, indignant, "His name is Iwaizumi, and he's the best player on the team!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever, you've got it bad you know?" Your voices drifted off into the distance and Iwaizumi stood there, heart pounding, gripping into the handle of his mop. You liked him, not Oikawa, him! He finished his cleaning as quickly as possible, ready to go home and plan exactly how he was going to tell you that he liked you too.

Suna Rintaro:

Another day and another test. Suna groaned as he left the school, his brain hurt from having to answer so many questions on literature and algebra. Evening practice had ended early because all of the second years were too tired to play properly - with the condition that they all stay an hour later tomorrow. He trudged down the streets that led to his favourite place, a small park near his home, with a few hot food stalls nearby. Grabbing a warm snack from one of the booths, Suna walked over to a tree and sat on a bench, gently blowing on his food.

He heard a voice drifting over from a nearby bush and, glancing up from his food, he noticed your familiar figure; he saw it every day, sitting next to him in his maths classes, and occasionally passing him in the corridors between lessons. He’d grown used to your steady presence and had, over time, found himself drawn to you. He loved to interact with you, he thought you were wonderful to talk to, you helped him with what you could, you respected when he needed space and when he was tired, and you were attractive.

You were busy, on a phone call, and thus didn’t notice his quiet staring. He focused on the faint whispers of your voice, talking to your friend from another lesson.

“You’re sure that you don’t mind helping me later?” You asked, talking in the way that you always did, in the way that he’d come to love. “I would do the work they set in my own time, but I’m desperate to go to the match, so I’d really appreciate it if you’d talk me through the answers later!” Your face lit up, “Thank you!” There was a pause, and then you laughed, “What do you mean ‘what match’? The volleyball match of course! What other match would I want to go to?”

Suna started, his match? You wanted to go to his team’s matches, and would ignore your workload in order to do so? He was undeniably flattered by your interest and... couldn’t help but hope that you were there for him. You turned slightly, your posture hunching slightly as heat came gradually to your cheeks, “Umm...” You were quiet, “I just want him to see the interest he has in me, is all.” He leant forwards, intrigued, “He plays amazingly, you know!” You were a lot more enthused again, “The way he spikes the ball and the control he has! It’s wonderful!...” You hid your face at the words from the phone, “... and attractive.” Suna was on the edge of his bench, desperate to hear who you fancied, he clenched his fists while you huffed and then, “The spiker! Suna! Who sits next to me in maths! Stop teasing me, you know I like him!”

Your phone call continued, but Suna just sat there, dumbstruck. Him. You liked him. A slow smile spread across his face, and, when he got home, he immediately messaged you with a request for a date, he couldn’t help but cheer when you said yes.

Tsukishima: Honestly, Tsukishima thought, it showed how soft he’d gone, recently, that he’d agreed to tutor Kageyama and HInata in the first place. However, nothing on Earth could convince him to tutor them outside of the agreed times. Therefore, he was making a tactical retreat (read: hiding) in the library, knowing that it was the last place that the two volleyball-brained idiots would want to look.

“Oi! Is that him?”

He shot a sharp glare in the direction of the voice, locking eyes with you, one hand over the mouth of your friend, who was next to you. “Sorry”, you mouthed, looking very apologetic. He nodded slowly and turned his gaze back to his book. If it was anything else, he probably would have been a bit more scathing, but he could never be too sharp, when it came to you. He’d found himself falling for you in the times you’d been in class together, and had a soft spot for you as a result.

Hushed whispers drifted over from your table.

“That’s him right? It is! The one who sits next to you in-” You made a ‘quieter’ motion with your hand and your friend huffed. “But you like him!”

“Yes.” You murmured, “But this is a library, you have to be quiet.”

Your friend rolled their eyes, “Sorry. But you’re always talking about him! Blond, tall, handsome Tsukishima with his glasses and big brain and volleyball skills and-”

Your friend hummed in annoyance against your hand, once again over their mouth. “Listen,” you said, “We are trying to work. He is trying to work. Yes I like him but can we please talk about this later?” Sighing and nodding, your friend turned back to their work.

Tsukishima, meanwhile, sat in his chair, staring at the same sentence he’d been looking at for your whole conversation. You liked him? Wow, that was surprising, he didn’t think he’d be your type. Then again, you’d probably say the same about yourself to him. Smiling faintly, he turned the page, but all focus was lost as he thought about how to invite you to one of his games.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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eureka-its-zico · 3 years

Text

Irrevocably Yours Pt. 2

Part 1

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has some of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So Part 2 is that slow burn build up (with possible cute moments?) and part 3 will be the actual SMUTTY goodness. Hopefully this is something cute and fluffy that is enjoyable and helps progress the story a little more so when a full length next part of a bunch of smut comes it all makes sense. Or idk anymore lol I edited this thing four times and I just really hope you all like it Please enjoy this wordy mess. I wasn’t sure how to properly write it out the end and yeah...I winged it. If it needs to be fixed lmk please!! As always, I hope you all enjoy. Much love, Jenn

P.s. when I wrote this I listened to Lauv’s “I Like Me Better,” and Pink Sweat$ Feat. Kehlani’s “At My Worst,” on repeat like crazy.

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15,496 (I know:it’s a hefty boy)

Genre: Fluffy/Smutty, slow burn,

The next day at school you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was going to happen. And sure, maybe you did wake up from a dream replaying that moment in the mud. The ending is a little bit different. This time, dream you didn’t let your chance to kiss him go by. When the opportunity presented itself, and you were both looking at one another like before, you’d leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t surprised to feel him kissing you back.

You could still feel the ghost of the imagination of him leaning down to press his lips against yours. The way he leaned in; eyes soft with longing as his body leaned deeper in against you. The weight of him pressing you into the mud until you were sure an imprint of this moment would be there forever. This imaginary kiss you’d shared was sweet, chaste, and everything you could’ve hoped for. Deepening at the last second as your alarm blared you back into realty.

It made you want to ring your hands through your hair in frustration.

Your whole walk to school was nothing but foggy images of the dream on repeat. A mixture of yesterday’s events accompanied them with each frame until you weren’t sure which was the actual moments or what your head had created. I mean, you did know he didn’t kiss you, but...the look in his eyes. Maybe Jungkook hadn’t, but there was that moment you swore maybe he felt the painful comedic romance moment of it all too.

All these unanswered what if’s you'd created had built an impossible chasm that seemed to stretch infinitely wider between you in your head. In the end, you were your own bully as your mind stayed up until three that morning playing out every scenario you could think of. Even the ones that ended with you probably reading everything wrong, because what did you know about body language? Or, more specifically, boys built like Jeon Jungkook.

It didn’t matter that you had two tests today and never finished your homework for home period, but what the hell. Nothing like hopelessly daydreaming about the boy who may or may not have flirted with you and harmonized along to songs with a hidden voice of an angel, am I right? And sure, a large part of your night was spent chastising yourself half the time to remind you there was no way in hell Jungkook could feel that way towards you. Even just a little. Your inner monologue of bringing yourself back down to earth, another culprit in the growing list of reasons why none of your assignments were completed.

What can you say? You were a mess.

Your only game plan you’d been able to agree on was just to daydream out the window. Writing out your own hapless love story starring the boy who sat across from you in the home room. With a silent plea to the universe that you weren’t called on to answer any questions.

Your arrival at homeroom was met with barely seconds to spare. The bell rang behind you, and a few other students, as you rushed towards your desk.

“Hurry, hurry to your seats! Or I’ll write you up as late!”

Mr. Choi was all talk. Everyone knew it and his excessive arm movements to rush every body that passed his desk made him look exactly like a conductor. His crazy movements were enough to distract you for a split second from the one person you were desperate to ignore.

“Good morning, class. I hope you are all fully rested and awake for class this morning. Let’s have us open our books to page two hundred and forty-two and continue on with our lesson.”

In unison the sound of backpacks unzipping with students reaching in their backpacks to bring out textbooks filled the class. The only person who didn’t currently have said book was holding his hand up, and seated directly across from you.

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“Seonsaengnim, I’m sorry. I haven’t received my textbooks yet.”

“Ah, that’s alright, Jungkook. You can go ahead and share with Y/N, again.”

You hoped your face wasn’t giving away the panic you felt rising up to match the blush that was streaking across your cheeks. Jungkook’s hand was already on the leg of your desk. His fingers tips grazing across your knee in passing as his hand wrapped around the bar and used it to bring you closer to him. You kept your eyes glued to page two hundred and forty-three and refused to look in his direction. Jungkook seemed to find a way to remedy this; his hand came into view and grabbed hold of the book corner and slid it over to his side. And as if he was the world’s greatest magician, he now had your attention.

Your eyes immediately shoot up to acknowledge his presence, instead of staying on the book. You knew that devilish smirk of his would be there to greet you even before you actually saw it.

“Well, good morning to you too, Y/N.”

His voice practically hummed a tune as he spoke. His eyes heavily searched your face, and you prayed whatever he found wasn’t any lasting signs of rosy cheeks.

“Good morning, Jungkook. I hope you slept well.”

“I slept very well, thank you.”

“That’s good-“

He cut you off fast, his next words a hush of teasing: “Even though some crazy girl tried to smother me in mud yesterday.”

Your world narrowed in on his smug position in his chair, but quickly realized he just wanted your attention. The smile he wore softened around the edges as his eyes tried to look away from you and yet found their way back. You did your best to hide your smile and must have failed miserably for his face noticeably brightened.

“I’m sure if that’s what she was doing - which I doubt - you probably deserved it.”

Jungkook pretended to be wounded and caused you to practically jump out of your seat when his free hand landed on top of yours.

“I can’t believe you think I deserve to be smothered,” he pouted.

You rolled your eyes in a weak attempt to look away from him. Anything to not be swallowed up by how stupidly cute he looked in this exact moment. The fingers that held your pencil lazily tapping on the pages of the math book to bring his focus to something else that wasn’t you.

“We need to pay attention.”

It was the only valuable excuse you could come up with to look away from him. But who were you kidding? You didn’t have to be looking in Jungkook’s direction to be painfully aware that he was there. His own gaze burned straight through you and left a trail of heat everywhere his eyes seemed to land.

Right now, you were aware they were on your lips and stirring every emotion from your dream you tried to suppress. Plus, you weren’t being cute. Unless Jungkook found the sight of you chewing your bottom lip into dust attractive.

It was a terrible nervous habit that seemed to only backfire right this second. You were sure he was ready to make a comment on it. You waited patiently for it to come in between you mindlessly copying equations off the board and the sea of arms flying up to answer whatever it was you’d just written. My gosh, you were trying so damn hard to not pay attention that you were doing nothing but paying attention to him.

Please don’t let him just see I’m doodling.

Mr. Choi was in the middle of showing how to work out a long equation when you decided it was safe to give Jungkook a glance. It was instantaneous how quickly you regretted it.

You jumped back against your seat in a weak attempt to recover some space. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d missed it -missed him- getting so close, but you had. Jungkook’s face was mere inches from yours and it took everything to not show him you weren’t at all bothered.

“Jungkook,” you whispered fiercely. “What.are.you.doing!”

Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes squinting as they looked around the side of your head. The gesture made you increasingly subconscious until you couldn’t keep your hand from going up to brush alongside it.

“What? What is it?”

You were expecting the worst.

“I think I see some mud still stuck inside your ear.”

And like magic your earlier blush reappeared. Your tongue rolled against the bottom of your teeth in a weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to stop it as the urge to give in tugged mercilessly at your lips. The playful glint in his eyes was enough to keep the panic of how incredibly close he still was. Your eyes hopelessly glancing at the pair of lips that plagued your dreams.

Jungkook noticed.

And how did you know this, you might ask?

Jungkook gave it away by the dramatic way his lower lip was drawn in by his teeth. Every movement he made sure was exaggerated and stupidly slow. His eyes watch for your reaction. He didn’t have to wait long; your eyes were glued to them long before his teeth joined the equation. You should’ve felt more embarrassed at your own blunt display - or maybe at his -but, god help you, you weren’t.

You tore your gaze away from him and did your best to pretend whatever part of the lesson you’d missed was interesting. The dirt on your shoes could’ve been more interesting at this moment; anything to keep you from looking back at him.

“I rinsed my hair three times in the shower. Thank you very much.”

“Did you think of me while you were washing yourself clean?”

If what Jungkook was after was seeing your face light up brighter than a tomato he’d succeeded. Your cheeks instantly flushed and felt scolding hot. The only line of defense you could think of to fight the devilish look in his eyes was to give him a smack on his arm. The motion only caused his sinister smile to turn into a full blown grin; a bark of laughter leaving him seconds later.

Jungkook chuckled out an, “Ouch!” His body leaning back, faux wounded, and rays of sunshine pouring out of him in waves.

“I meant when you were getting the mud out of your hair.” His voice carried the singing sweetness of his laughter; airy and light. This boy who you did think of in the shower. All hard edges and softness; sour and sweet. Your very own sour patch kid. “I mean, I thought of you when I tried scrubbing it out from behind my ears.”

Your heart gave a brief jump at his omission. What you wished you would’ve focused on was the fact he’d admitted to thinking of you...in his own shower. But nope! Instead, your mind appeared to focus more on the fact it was while he scrubbed at his ears.

“I scrubbed my ears too.”

Oh. My. God, you inwardly cringed.

Is that really what your magical brain decided to say in return? Jungkook leaned back in, eyes inspecting not just your ear, but your entire space. Recklessly moving in dangerously close, and your heart was ready to beg for mercy. Whether to completely close the space between you or to stop teasing, of which you weren’t sure.

“It appears you didn’t do that good of a job,” he huffed.

A gurgled scream flew into your throat; the sound was utterly ridiculous and Jungkook ate it up. His head flew back in laughter as your hand moved to swat at him again.

The disruption turned the attention of your teacher directly to the two of you, and Mr. Choi was quick to address it.

“Jean Jungkook! Y/L/N, Y/N!”

The both of you rose from your seats in unison. Jungkook’s rise the definition of graceful, while yours in comparison was met with anxiety and your knees colliding with your desk. Your small “Oomph,” of pain sending him into a fit of giggles beside you. The hand you sent in to pinch at his leg only sent him into another fit.

“Y/N!”

Stupid, stupid! Of course he would see.

“Seonsaengnim!”

To appease him, you felt your body respond in a ninety-degree salute. Your face keeping down to stare at your shoes and praying you weren’t about to be sent out of the room.

“Would you mind explaining what Jungkook and you found so interesting that the two of you felt like you didn’t need to be a part of class.”

God, it wasn’t a question. He really wanted you to tell him, and what could you say?

“Oh, he was just asking me if I was in the shower...thinking of him. And he was thinking of me too!”

Which wasn't a lie. Maybe it wasn’t as dirty as he might have intended, but it was enough to make your cheeks flush to life with their usual color these days. Your mind was still racing with an appropriate answer for Mr. Choi. You were taking so long you were ready to blurt out anything he might want to hear.

“Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook gave a respectful bow and lifted his head. His full attention now resting on the impatiently waiting man at the front of the class. “We were discussing the fact that you, respectfully, have written the equation wrong on the board.”

The entire class seized up. A collective air was taken at Jungkook’s bold attempt to correct him. It was awkwardly obvious that he wasn’t happy at the idea of being corrected. However, Jungkook remained unfazed and waited for the right time to speak.

“Is that so?” He snapped. “If it is so wrong, Jeon, then please, come and fix it for me.”

You were sure his order for Jungkook to go to the front would make him back down . No one enjoyed doing class work on the board up front for all to see. But you’d forgotten Jungkook wasn’t like everyone else. He kept his head high and moved to grab his cane; his hand wrapping tightly to its handle. Jungkook stepped out from inside his desk and let his feet carry him forward. He walked with a noticeable lack of a limp and you were willing to bet that strike of pride was costing him.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t believe that Jungkook was able to walk without it. It was just that your memory forced you to recall the pain he was in during the field trip. The flashes of frustration as his eyes threatened to spill over with tears.

Jungkook came to stand beside Mr. Choi. His hand reaching out to take the marker that the older man had held out waiting for him to prove his equation wrong. He plucked it from the older man’s hand and moved the last few inches to stand in front of the board. His eyes scanning the problem quickly. Your breath held tight in your chest as you watched him get permission to grab the eraser. The class transfixed on his every movement.

You wondered how many of the girls in your class focused on him like you were. The same way your eyes ate up every simple movement he made. The notable flex of his back while he stretched to erase the middle and last part of what Mr. Choi had written out.

“You had a good start here, Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook paused to stretch out his hand. Fingers marking underneath the start of the problem. “But you didn’t multiply these after they were divided, and because of this the middle became wrong. With your core of the problem being wrong the solution was never able to end in its final conclusion.”

With every word, Jungkook’s voice became more self-assured. His presence enveloping the room and demanding the attention he’d already received without question. Mr. Choi watched on with his arms crossed; index finger hugging his mouth in concentration as he watched Jungkook work. From the back of the class, you could see students writing down the new formula. Some of them realized the obvious error Mr. Choi had made.

Jungkook looked at the problem over again on repeat. If it’d been you, you would have left it where it was knowing you’d done what no one else did. But Jungkook wanted to know, for himself, that it was correct.

Finally, he stepped back from the whiteboard and handed the marker back to Mr. Choi. Who looked measurably impressed with him. His index finger he’d used for thinking now covered up a timid smile before he dropped it to grab a hold of the marker.

“Go ahead and have a seat, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gave him a passing bow as he made his way back towards the back of the class. Back to you. It took everything you had not to notice how everyone’s view of him seemed to change. Even the honor students; the ones bound for scholarship glory to prestigious colleges now seemed to take new interest in him.

You’d heard stories about Jungkook, like everyone else did. The Boy Wonder. The boy who seemed unfairly good at everything. Before you’d ever met him, a part of you believed there wasn’t a way the universe would seriously do that. And yet, as he moved to sit back down beside you, you suddenly felt the overwhelming sensation of being below average. Your subconscious rose up to stop whatever sunlight you’d felt at his earlier words, and crushed it until it began to dim. All but snuffing it out.

Jungkook fell back into the seat at his desk riding the high of confidence he’d gained from proving he’d know how to fix the answer. Not just know it; teach it. The air around him completely changed. He was the sun and the rest of you were becoming helplessly lost in his orbit. From the backwards glances of the others around you, you were pretty sure they weren’t going to mind one bit.

Either Jungkook was honestly oblivious to all the attention or he just didn’t care. He practically beamed as he leaned himself closer to you completely unaware at how breathless he made you. That smile you’d admired during your field trip showed itself beaming and bright. He was so damn pleased with himself his eyes sparked with joy and you wish you could’ve pouted. Maybe found the strength not to care or to wonder if he could see how he affected you.

You wanted to pout and be in your own bubble, damn it.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I don’t think he’ll bother us again.”

Us.

Those butterflies you’d sworn to yourself you were not feeling towards him began to come to life. Or were they butterflies? You weren’t sure what to call the feeling Jungkook gave you.

Sure, Jungkook made your heart thunder in your chest like a caged animal. And yea, maybe you swore to yourself there was an attraction there that you couldn’t explain, but that was just your dopamine talking. That didn’t mean the two of you were soulmates or the universe decided to bring you both together by a mess of unseen choices.

But...when Jungkook looked at you this way it was hard to tell your thundering heart anything else.

The two of you continued to look at one another. A heartbeat of time passing between you with Jungkook waiting for your reply. You watched the edges of his smile start to wilt as realization set in that you weren’t planning to reply. No smile or teasing remark was headed his way, and just as fast as he noticed it, determination swiftly replaced the light weighted joy he’d shown moments earlier.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’m positive he will leave us alone the rest of the class. I promise.”

God, why did he have to make things so difficult? When Jungkook spoke the words, “I promise,” they’d been so earnest. He meant them. Here he was trying to turn the tables and be your knight, instead of you being his. It would have worked, but what he didn’t know was that you weren’t worried about Mr. Choi. Not really.

No one could tear you down further than you were able to do to yourself.

He was still waiting for the answer that you would never give. You turned to face forward in your chair and tried to forget the ripple of sadness that moved over his face. The cost of your stubbornness suddenly felt too high. No matter how it made you feel though, you refused to look over in his direction.

An awkward chasm had built between the two of you. Mostly, well, obviously it was all because of you. You figured Jungkook would eventually stop looking at you. You prayed he would stop. Every time he did it your body became painfully aware of his gaze, and the longing it held for you to acknowledge him. And every time you remained facing front. You no longer could pretend to focus, however, and that seemed to be all the signs Jungkook needed to know you were in some way paying attention.

Your notebook that’d been left unattended on the desk became his private art museum. The doodles started off silly and slowly morphed into small faces and objects that held impressive detail. You tried your best to ignore it; his arm practically took up most of the space on your desk. The angle forced him to shoulder into your space to the point that if you did finally turn to look at him you’d run inches away from his cheek.

You were doing your best to pay attention to whatever your teacher was doing at the front. Your eyes watched as a wave of hands went up to answer questions you’d never heard. Yours kept sliding back down to the latest doodle he was making. The latest one he was working on had forced Jungkook to move further inland on your notepad. His forearm getting dangerously close to having to rest in your lap.

It continued like this the remainder of class. For all the effort you’d put in the last half hour of pretending he wasn’t there, Jungkook shattered it within seconds.

He’d repositioned himself with each new doodle he started. His shoulder wedged itself against yours and his forearm had completely taken up what little space was left on your desk. You were trying very hard to not pay attention to how said forearm was dangerously close to your chest. There was no hiding the redness of your cheeks.

Without thinking, you whipped your head to look at him and almost yelled. You knew he was close, but nothing prepared you for this.

“Excuse me,” you whispered, voice incredulous.

Jungkook turned to look at you and...was he pouting? His eyes played up on the childish quality as he turned to you and batted his eyes.

“Can I help you?”

“Ugh, can I help you? Do you need paper or something?”

“I have paper right here. Thanks.”

Jungkook patted the notepad with the end of his pen. Satisfied with his answer he turned his attention back to his latest artistic endeavor.

“You know this is my desk. Right?”

“I like to think of it more like our desk. Sharing a space like we shared music.”

“Ya, Jungkook. You realize you blackmailed me into using my ipod.”

Jungkook feigned shock. His mouth dropping open and his eyes brows going too high up into his hairline. The entire scene was exaggerated and ridiculous. The scene forced you to roll your lips against your teeth to keep from smiling. The effort it took to hide your grin wasn’t unnoticed by Jungkook, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’d been his goal all along.

“Blackmail sounds so crass. I like to think of it as bargaining.”

“So we agree it’s called blackmail, then.”

The theatrics of his face dropped into a serious stare that left his face completely blank. Void of all emotion except the annoyance that drew a heavy frown from his face. It was stupidly cute and this time you did allow yourself to smile. Your fingers reached out to grab one of his puffed out cheeks and gave it a sweet pinch, like a grandmother, and cooed in his direction.

“Oooooh Jungkookie, don’t frown. We’ve all gotta be wrong sometimes.”

He playfully nipped at your hand to make you snatch it away. It took everything in you not to make a sound at his sudden movement. Your mouth hung open in an awkward smile-shout as you brought your handle against your chest.

“I think you’re misinterpreting the facts here. Maybe you hit your head on a small pebble or something when you fell in the mud.”

“You mean when you pulled me in.”

He shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I don’t think I recall any force being used yesterday. You just fell on my chest trying to take advantage of me in my time of need.”

Now it was your turn to look deadpanned in his direction. Jungkook didn’t try to hide his wicked smile, however, and the cage of butterflies that were housed in your gut were released all over again.

“Your appa must be a lawyer. It’d explain why you’re so good at bullshitting.”

“CEO, actually. But I would say you’re close. They are also full of shit.”

You weren’t sure what to say to this omission about his father. Underneath the sarcasm felt like a heavy chasm that spoke of the death of a relationship. Your curiosity threatened to get the best of you, but you decided to just throw it away. Filing it away inside a little folder you’d made for little known facts about him.

The bell rang and the mass of bodies in class all began to rise from their seats. All of them eager to rush from the classroom and do whatever plans they’d made to enjoy their little bit of freedom. You were reaching for your bookbag when Jungkook’s hand was just there. A part of you worried he’d decided to play a game of keep away, or something that fit his playful mood, Instead, he placed it down on the desk.

“Oh, thank you, Jungkook.”

God. Why were you staring? Why was he staring?

The room was still filled with the small display of chaotic teenage energy. Most of them had already filed out of the classroom, while some were still putting things away. Honor students were arguing with the teacher about markings he’d left on papers. Small groups of friends chatting happily as they moved in tight clusters through the door. So much was going on around you, and yet the only person you were aware of was him.

“You’re welcome. Have a good lunch, Y/N.”

The playful air that’d been around him had completely disappeared. This boy who stood before you now was more reminiscent of when you’d first met than the boy you’d grown to like. What had made him grow so distant?

“You too, Kookie.”

It slipped out. You couldn’t stop yourself. He’d already started to walk away in his retreat. As soon as his pet name you’d given him hit his ears he completely stopped moving. His head whipped around to glance at you with that devilish grin raised high on his cheeks.

“Kookie? Are you calling me a snack?”

If your eyes could’ve gotten any wider, they would’ve left your skull. The embarrassment was hot on your cheeks and you knew Jungkook would tease you without mercy for the slip up. By the look in his eyes you could tell he was never going to let this go. Not ever. He would be too happy to remind you of this until the day you died. Or until graduation. Whichever came first.

This time you scooped up your bookbag and snatched your book off the desk clutching them to your chest. In your haste to grab them and go, your knee collided with the edge of the desk, but you’d worry about that possible bruise later. You just needed to flee before Jungkook got any closer.

“No, no. It was an accident.”

“You called me a snack by accident?”

You were backing up towards the safety of the open hallway. Your shoulders shrugging too high and your laugh too high-pitched in your attempt to play it cool.

“No snack nicknames here. It was just a slip of the tongue. I must just be hungry, ya know.”

“Are you hungry for me?”

Oh, he was intolerable sometimes. It didn’t matter how flustered he made you. A part of you knew his endless teasing was growing on you. You liked it, and the sane part of you wondered if you’d gone crazy.

“Ya, Jungkook-”

“I think you mean, Kookie,” he cut in.

Jungkook held a single finger up to silence you. He’d stopped moving towards you and let out a laugh as you tried to swat his hand down. He looked so much happier than he did moments ago. That alone made his teasing at your expense worth it.

“No I mean, Jungkook. It’s the name your parents gave you.” You stated, proud that your voice sounded more stable than you felt. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch now. You should do the same and I’ll...see you later.”

You waited for him to argue. To continue to make comments in passing to keep your face rosy and flushed. He surprised you by just standing there in silence. His smile wide on his face and eyes looking at you like you’d held the moon. A look you weren’t used to and made you unsure how to respond.

You started to walk back towards the door and found yourself disappointed when he didn’t follow. You sent him an awkward wave as your arms still held onto your things from your desk. Jungkook showed his amusement by giving you a wave in return.

“See you later, Y/N.”

At his words you turned on your heel and headed out towards the courtyard. No longer eager to eat your lunch that you’d packed. Your mind replayed his words and knew, without a doubt, he would keep his word.

—————-

Lunch went by as quickly as it came. Instead of eating your lunch with friends, you’d opted for sulking in the auditorium. Absentmindedly taking small bits off your food as you considered what had happened between Jungkook and you.

There was flirting there. You may be a little delusional, but you weren’t delusional about this. It was obvious to anyone who witnessed it and yet you tried to deny its existence at every turn. Of course, you knew why.

It just didn’t make logical sense. You were two opposites that shouldn’t be in the least bit interested in the other. Well, that didn’t really seem correct when it came to Jungkook. He was attractive to everyone and probably even inanimate objects. But you...you just couldn’t see yourself that way. You’d only ever had one relationship in your life and it had been short-lived and in the third grade.

Throwing what little was left of your sandwich back inside it’s little brown coffin, you removed yourself from your spot. A huff left you as you reached out to pick up your mess and started to hop back down the steps one-by-one.

You weren’t sure what walking around was going to do. For the hundredth time since this day started, you were lost in your own head. The only thing you knew for certain was that you’d hoped to run into him again. A thought came to you that maybe, just this day, he’d shown up in the school's cafeteria.

You could think of a million excuses for why you’d need to go into the cafeteria and it wouldn’t be weird. Just the thought of not coming off weird, while most certainly being weird, made you beam at your own creativity.

You’d reached the last step and we’re crossing the field when you noticed, on the other side, the very boy you were looking for. He was alone and sitting under the shade of the only tree next to the amphitheater. His back against the bark and a knee drawn up to give his notepad a place to perch. Whatever he was writing, drawing, or formulating held his interest and refused to let him look up.

All your previous bravado deflated in a second. It would be harder to deny you weren’t actively seeking him out if you went to him now. But, who said that you wanted too?

Grabbing the strap of your book bag tight, you started back on your mission. Your legs made quick work across the field. It wasn’t until there was only a few feet left between you that he looked up. His brow still furrowed in tight creases of concentration as he decided if you were a friend or foe. Your feet almost tripped over themselves when he smiled at you.

“Y/N!” He called happily. “What brings you over here?”

“I came looking for my snack.”

The surprise on his face made your bold choice of a response worth it. Jungkook, being who he was, quickly recovered and set his notebook and pencil down beside him. He placed his arms casually on his propped up leg and leaned forward as if he was about to tell you a secret.

“Well, you found me. Why did you come looking for me? Really.”

You tried to think quickly of what to say. The idea of telling him the truth, that you’d just wanted to see him, felt painfully honest and might press him to ask for you to explain. How could you explain that in the short time you’d met him he was both the most interesting and infuriating man you’d ever met. But he was also the most beautiful, and had a delicate softness under his hard exterior that you were growing to love. He was basically the perfect description of the onion from Shrek.

An idea clicked in your head and your hands quickly moved inside your bag and produced another brown bag.

“I wanted to come see if you’d eaten. I had some spare kimchi rice ball’s my omma made.”

You extended the bag out to him. Your eyes locked together as you waited for him to either accept it or deny it. Jungkook surprised you by leaning forward and taking it gently from you. It took some effort, but he crossed his legs -his bad one in an awkward position - and plopped the bag down between his legs.

You moved to sit beside him in the grass and took your book bag off your shoulder and into your lap. You watched as he moved to open the bag and peered cautiously inside.

“It’s not a bomb,” you chided.

“I never know with you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile spreading like wildfire across your lips. Jungkook was so charismatic it felt inevitable and fighting against it was futile. He took a large bite of the rice ball and practically swooned. His eyes had fallen shut and a ridiculous chanting of endless “Mhm’s” had started rising up around you.

“Should I leave you two alone?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open and for a moment you were worried maybe you did pull him out of some weird food ritual. His eyes were blank and then, all at once, he was back to being his usual animated self. The hand that held the rice ball shaking in your direction before shoving what was left inside his mouth.

“This is unbelievably delicious.” He mumbled around his food. “You said your omma made these?”

“Yup!”

You’d said it in English just to dramatically pop the P at the end. Extending out your own kind of dramatics to match Jungkook’s. You leaned your hands back into the grass and noticed Jungkook watch your every move as you did.

“Is your omma married?”

Your face fell into a deadpan stare as you replied, “Seriously? Of course her and my appa are still married, you creep.”

“If you can cook like your omma, Y/N I’m willing to lend you my amazing tutoring services. All for the low price of making things as delicious as this.”

He was already mid-way through shoving the second rice ball in his mouth. His head tilted back to drop it down. A piece of rice must have dislodged itself from its balled shape, because he erupted in a coughing fit. You couldn’t help but laugh as you handed him your water.

“I think I’ll steer clear of rice treats. Just to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

Jungkook was about to lift the bottle up to his lips and stopped. His eyes falling on you with a playful glare. You held your hands up in mock surrender as you leaned forward. Your hands clap together to get pieces of grass and soil from your hands.

While he drank the water you’d offered up the two of you fell into companionable silence. You didn’t mind waiting and Jungkook was happy that you did. When he’d finished with the bottle, he set it down beside him. His hand moving like a flopping fish in your direction to make you give him something that you’d had no idea he’d asked for.

“Come on. Let’s see your math homework.”

“For what?”

“To start your tutoring. Duh.”

You hated how cute he’d made the word sound. The way his lips smiled around it and left him beaming at you like a little kid on Christmas.

“Can we pass? We just left the class and I hate math. A lot.”

Jungkook tsked you but didn’t look disappointed.

“You can’t get better at something if you give up on it. Luckily for you, you’ve got the best person in the subject to tutor you.”

“For a fee,” you pointed out.

“All the best things come with a price. I’m most definitely one of them. Now. Book.”

His hand movements were more controlled now. His fingers simply waved once -twice- for you to hurry it up and place what he’d asked in his hand. You really didn’t want any part of this. The thought was sweet, but when you said you hated math you meant it. So yeah, maybe you were grumbling a little as you reached inside your book bag and taking a little longer than was necessary to hand it over.

Jungkook took it from you in one smooth motion and had it open to the spot previously in class. All your homework problems you’d left unfinished glaring against the white of the page. His eyes were already scanning over what little problems you’d written down. A clicking noise from his closed mouth reminding you why exactly you hadn’t finished more of it. The reason was sitting right in front of you.

His hand flicked back out and he held it open. His eyes never lifted off the page as he demanded, “Pencil.”

“What the heck? Why am I supplying everything.”

“Cause I’m supplying myself,” he shot back. His hands taking the pencil you handed over to him. “Plus, I also can’t seem to find any in my bag.”

“You didn’t even look.”

Jungkook gave a graceful shrug. His attention was fully engrossed in the problems. You weren’t ready for how cute he looked. How adorable those concentration creases in his forehead made him look, even deadly serious, with his fingers tapping the pencil absentmindedly on the paper. When he figured out what was missing from the equation he quickly erased and reconfigured everything on the page.

You were staring intently at him, both because his angle’s were ridiculously handsome but also, the way the sun fell down on him here, peaking through the trees, felt like magic. It was hard to believe the universe was more than just molecules and that luck was thrown out randomly. If it was, maybe you’d caught some.

Your thoughts were running wild and your concentration was no longer in the safe zone. Maybe that’s why when he finally looked up from the notebook and found you staring he’d smiled. Not his teasing one. Or the condescending either. This smile was soft like a secret, and directed only at you. \

“See something you like?”

His voice was gentle in his playfulness. As if he wanted to take the cautionary approach in case you were spooked.

“Maybe I do.”

A smile of your own spread to match his and Jungkook wasn’t surprised. He was just happy, and it was a lovely sight to see. He looked away from you with his hand moving up to smooth out the hair on the back of his neck. He flicked the pencil down on the notebook and brought it forward for you to see.

“Let’s get back to this. I’ll be honest with you. It’s pretty bad. You missed a whole line on the third problem that left you with an incomplete answer. Not to mention,” he lifted up the notebook and motioned towards the whole page, “Where is all the rest of the homework?”

Jungkook’s voice was filled with the beginnings of laughter. Not specifically towards you, but just the blatant fact you did not care. You gave him your best nonchalant shrug. In reality, you did care. It bothered you it wasn’t finished.

Your fingers were digging in the grass and ripping some of it up and throwing it out into the field.

“I had a hard time concentrating last night. Plus, if I’m being honest math has always been the hardest subject for me.”

“And that is why I’m going to help you.”

“For a fee,” you reminded him.

“I’ll teach you the easiest way I know how to do these and I promise you, you’ll be flying through these problems in no time.”

The sincerity in his voice was evident. Jungkook really believed it and he wanted you to believe it too. You just couldn’t understand why and you found yourself speaking your mind.

“Why are you wanting to help me?”

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. His face went blank as he looked at you one last time before he looked away. Whatever he was looking at he wasn’t really seeing. He just needed someplace else to look than the person he was talking to you. You did it plenty of times yourself.

Whatever he’d decided on to say had caused his shoulders to square. Determined that whatever he needed to say he would make sure it meant something.

“I like spending time with you.”

The smile you’d worn completely shattered as you stared at him. The butterflies rushed up and up until they trapped themselves in your throat. Jungkook’s admission was basically three words dropped away from just saying he liked you.

This surprising admission should’ve been enough to make yourself not care who you saw walking. Or care when he stopped, his small mob with him, and start gesturing at his imaginary watch. His fingers rubbing together for money owed.

It was worse when Jungkook looked back and took notice. Even worse when he looked back at you with questions swirling in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

Your eyes looked down to the safety of your hands. The way they were helplessly fidgeting back in the grass and tearing it apart like a miniature tantrum was brewing inside you. You hated that after all this time, you let Lee Kwon upset you by making you feel embarrassed about your dad. That he felt the need to tell everyone the business deal between his father and yours. How every time he told it he’d turned him more and more into a villain of his own misfortune.

Without a reason why you took back your notebook from Jungkook and shoved it inside your bag. You were ready to leave. You didn’t want to explain, but you knew Jungkook wouldn’t let you just leave without one.

He reached out and his hand gently wrapped around your wrist to stop you. There was no force. Nothing that hinted that he would keep you there if you didn’t want to be kept. Looking at him felt harder. His genuine worry almost threatened to let the tears from your frustration spill forward.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. Your vision dragging away from him and back to the retreating back of the sociopath, Lee Kwon.

You didn’t try to shake him off. You actually felt comforted by his worrisome touch. The way he leaned in closer as if he would pull you into his arms at any moment. As much as you wanted that to happen, you knew it wouldn’t happen. A deep sigh had built up in your chest and you released it while you looked back at him.

“Look. Eventually, I know you’re going to hear about it: my dad, I mean.”

“That’s kind of odd high school kids would talk about someone’s appa.”

“You and me both,” you agreed. “But Kwon’s dad is a banker who doesn’t believe in client confidentiality. So he tells his son about his day over dinner and-“

“And he decides to bring it to school to make your life miserable,” Jungkook finished for you.

He understood and didn’t need you to simplify it anymore. His hand left your arm and you suddenly found yourself missing his comforting touch. It was still there, that comfort, in the way his eyes softened and he leaned in intent to listen to whatever you needed to get off your chest. You appreciated his attention, but also hated it at the same time.

“What’s your Appa’s thing?”

God. He did understand. Maybe just a little too well for your liking.

“Gambling. It started when I was in the seventh grade. At first it wasn’t anything too crazy. He’d always been able to even it out. But then he became obsessed with the idea of winning big. Kept betting on things we couldn’t afford to lose. Eventually, he bet too high and ended up losing the business he and my mom built together and our house. They had to pay the bank back.”

“A bank this dude’s Appa works at.”

“Correct. My Appa...he isn’t a bad man. He’s paid his debt and hasn’t gambled since. What good is it for me or anyone else to make him feel bad for the rest of his life?”

“I don’t get it. Why does that have to do with you, though?”

You’d wondered the same exact thing half of your adolescent life. You shrugged and looked at Jungkook wondering if maybe he’d be able to make sense of it better than you could.

“Twelve year old boys enjoy making up stories. First it was that we became so poor we lived with pigs. That's why I smelled.”

You put air quotations around smelled and Jungkook practically howled with laughter. You tried your best to show no emotion, but could feel the corner of your lips threatening to curl into a smile.

“He probably said it because you didn’t know how to wash back then and, judging from earlier, I still don’t think you do.”

You moved to playfully shove at his shoulder. A scoff of laughter leaving you even though you told yourself you wouldn’t. Jungkook was waiting for you to make a move and when you did he easily grabbed a hold of you. The feeling of intimacy, just like yesterday in the mud, was swimming back to the surface.

Your eyes looked up into his with your laughter being met with a wide grin. The way he was looking at you now made you believe in fairytales and left your lips aching to be kissed.

Before either of you could decide what to do next, the bell for the end of lunch sounded. You could hear it going off all around you, but still the two of you stayed holding each other. Your bodies close enough that if he wanted to make a move all Jungkook needed was to lean down. To say your heart dropped a little when he moved away was an understatement.

You focused on getting up from the grass. Your hands patting down your uniform as you struggle to find something not so awkward to say. You wanted to sound confident. You wanted to sound like you weren’t affected by him at all.

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

God, you sounded awkward. You turned to start heading to your next period. You closed your eyes tight and mouthed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You’d gotten a few feet away when you heard him call to you.

You turned to look back at him and found him still standing under the tree. His hands in his pockets and his eyes solely on you.

“Would you let me walk you home?”

Did he really have to ask? You’d let him walk you to the edge of a volcano. You didn’t say that, however. You wanted to play it cool, but on the inside you were screaming.

“I’d like that.”

When you turned back around to make your way to class, the memory of how his face had brightened at your reply, stayed with you. You couldn’t wait for the day to end.

_________

True to his word Jungkook waited for you after school. You couldn’t help looking for him over the countless shoulders as you walked with the sea of students towards the entrance. The hole in the pit of your stomach opened back up from the underlying dreadful thought. That he wouldn't show up. You’d be left standing there waiting for him forever. But Jungkook continued to prove your pessimism wrong.

The closer you got to the school’s gate, you were able to spot him instantly. He was leaning coolly against the gate. His bag at his feet and his cane positioned strategically out of view. If anyone just casually walked up, they would’ve never been able to tell he’d needed one. Maybe that was why he’d done it.

He looked to be searching for someone in every face that passed him. It came to an end the minute his roaming eyes found you. No longer did he appear cool and composed. His body became animated with what you could only explain as a giddiness at your oncoming presence.

By the time you reached him, Jungkook was wearing his backpack on his shoulder and his cane in his hand. He was standing and waiting for you. The happiness at being next to you was intoxicating and you could only hope you looked the same.

“It felt like I was waiting forever,” he admitted.

The two of you started in sync out the gate and turned left onto the main road.

“It felt like an eternity just to get to you. I have Mrs. Chun’s chemistry class for the last period. The classroom is pretty far.”

“Mhm, like on a planet far far away.”

Your eyes rolled up to look at him. The affection you found in the warmth of his eyes was startling, but not a surprise.

Your mom used to tell you to always be careful with smiling. It caused laugh lines. It helped make crows feet. That smiling was a woman’s secret enemy she never knew about when it came to aging. She told you over and over to be careful who or what you wasted smiles on. Smiling up at him now, Jungkook was definitely worth it just to see him respond with his own.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only, like, one planet away.”

A soft hush of laughter left him as he looked away. His gaze roaming around the street signs and their multiple names before looking back at you.

“Are we going the right way to your place? I just realized I never even asked for your address.”

“Does it matter? I mean, with your leg and all.” You hated yourself for spoiling the moment by bringing it up. You knew it was a touchy subject when it came to his leg for Jungkook. So you weren’t surprised to see that spark of warmth fade ever so slightly from his face. His smile wilted at the edges of his lips before it all but disappeared. “You know I’m sorry I said anything. I shouldn’t have. I mean obviously you know yourself and your limits. You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t able to do it.”

You were rambling. You were fidgeting and waving your arms around while you talked, because why not? You were doing everything else besides hyperventilating at this point. All you knew was that you felt like a jerk for even bringing it up. When all you wanted was to know he was okay.

You were so lost in the space inside your head and worrying that you didn’t notice him laughing at you. You were mid-arm swing. Inhaling for another round of mouth babble to start asking for forgiveness when he waved for you to stop. A finger tip landing on your lips to quiet the words in your throat by shocking you into silence.

“You really don’t have to apologize so much, Y/N. It’s alright. I understand why you would ask.”

You were tempted to lick his finger away, but it felt too intimate. But so was a finger on the lips. Before you could decide your next move from your internal dilemma, Jungkook solved it for you. His finger detaching from your lips as quickly as it’d come.

“No, you don’t. I’m just worried about you. I know I should trust you to know yourself better, but-“ you did an over exaggerated shrug as you finished: “I’m a worrier.”

“I’m flattered, I have you to worry over me.”

You knew he was teasing you and you couldn’t have been happier. You preferred it to making him sad. Plus, he was back to looking at you like you controlled the stars and oh, what a wonderful look it was.

“You should be. I’ve only got so much extra space up here.”

You tapped your head for added effect and were rewarded with a soft laugh that was followed up by a smile. God, you could get used to this.

“I guess I need to work harder to take up more space.”

“Please, no. Let’s not do that. I need my sanity.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing so well at flirting. Usually, your sarcasm won out and you resorted to awkward winking, but this was definitely an improvement.

“I’m not sure you have much of that left either,” he joked.

You tried to hide your laughter with a scoff. You knew you were failing miserably at being offended. Your mouth fighting too hard to ward off a smile as you playfully bumped your shoulder into his arm. Jungkook was ready for you with his cane digging into the sidewalk to give him extra stability.

“Ya, if I do finally go crazy it’ll be your fault, specifically.”

“I think you’d have a hard time proving that in court. My counter argument would be pretty persuasive.”

You looked at him in shock.

“Court? Wow...that escalated quickly.”

Jungkook nodded his reply. He stopped in front of a bookstore and pointed at a manga in the window. You weren’t too familiar with the title, but it's a cover you’d seen plenty of.

“It would happen as quickly as an infection from a zombie’s bite. It would seem all slow until suddenly you jumped up and tried to eat me.”

You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face as you glanced at him and back down to the manga. A part of you wondering if it was one he’d read before or just wanted to use to make his point.

“Question: why are we together during a zombie outbreak?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I’ll be walking you home. I’ll try and save you and while feeling all heroic about it, I won’t even realize you’d been bitten until it’s too late.”

The two of you moved away from the bookstore window and began to walk back down the sidewalk. Your mind trying to dissect what he was trying to say, but all it left you with was imagining a zombie version of you trying to take a bite out of him.

“You must watch too much Walking Dead.”

“It’s a good show,” he shrugged.

“Did you know that there’s actually a fungus out there that’s sort of like a zombie infection. It’s called Ophiocordyceps. It basically infects the host and within nine days of infection it takes control of the host's body movements.”

You were still walking and looking around while you spoke. Your fingers running gently over a row of gardenia’s that were planted in carefully placed pots in front of someone’s home. You were aware Jungkook had left your side by the sudden coldness of his absence. You turned to look for him and found him standing a foot away from you. A mixture of astonishment and amusement etched on his face.

“Why do you know something like that? Actually, how do you know something like that?”

His eyes were dancing with curiosity as he moved to fall back into step beside you.

“Let’s just say I like to read. I like strange things and facts. And science is full of both facts and strange things.”

With each small statement you held up a finger. When you ended on the third and final small fact about yourself, you wiggled all three fingers at him. The motion earned you a giant smile that only seemed to grow wider as his head shook slightly back and forth.

“You are the strangest girl.”

“How am I strange?”

“You just told me about a body snatching fungus,” he chuckled. “What other girl is going to do that?”

Jungkook had a point. A very strong point. For all your new found confidence when it came to him, you couldn’t keep the heat from rushing to your face. Or the back of your hands from trying to hide it.

“I would tell you to stop being embarrassed but it’s cute when you blush.”

The two of you came to a complete stop at the crosswalk. The red light blinking to tell you two it wasn’t safe to cross. It felt like a weird metaphor for this moment in your life.

Stop! Do not keep staring back at him as if he strung every star in the sky. Stop! Don’t continue to entertain the thought that he looked like he wanted to kiss you or that you desperately wanted to kiss him back. Stop! Even though you already knew it was too late.

You had plans. It’d all been strategically mapped out in your head until you could read it forwards and backwards to yourself. Do your best to graduate high enough in the percentage range to get into a decent college. Get a degree for a job, it didn’t matter what it was, that made enough money to help your parents. For all your careful planning, none of it had included him and yet, the universe had you both standing at a stoplight looking at each other like there couldn’t be any other reality where you weren’t meant to end up right here. Standing at this exact light and looking at one another like no one else existed.

Luckily, the light changed signaling for you to begin to cross. The mass of bodies that had accumulated behind you began to push you both forward and, reluctantly, broke your gaze free from him. Your brain was scrambling to pick up a conversation you weren’t sure how to resurrect. Your mind too busy daydreaming all the scenarios you would’ve taken in different realities if you were braver. Clearing your throat, you did your best to wipe the thought clean and focus on your current reality.

“If it makes you feel better,” you started your body turning to consider him as you spoke, “the study was only ever done on the tropical ants that resided in the forest. The actual effects and what it could do to humans has never been studied. Yet. But I’m willing to bet it would take longer than nine days for it to take hold of a grown adult's nervous system and larger batches.”

He was looking at you in inspired mock horror. You weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Or if your unusual fact telling about zombie fungus had completely killed the mood. You got your answer in an excited hush of, “Holy shit it’s like you’re writing your own super villain backstory.”

A smile erupted on your face as you playfully rolled your eyes away from him. It was hard to miss the mischievous glint in his eyes or the way his whole face still swam with the playfulness that lurked underneath his teasing. Jungkook was so alive. A force that required you to hang on or else you would get swept up in him without even realizing it’d happen.

You wondered if this is what falling in love felt like.

“I would make a terrible villain. I’m too clumsy,” you stated. Your weak attempt at downplaying yourself being met with a stern look.

“How clumsy are we talking?”

“Hmm, I would say, ‘Kronk giving the llama potion to Kuzco,’ kind of clumsy.”

A hiss of air whistled between Jungkook’s teeth. A mock look of worry on his face as his hands moved to reposition his bag.

“Can we call that clumsy, though?”

“What else would it be?” You asked.

You could feel the lines grouping together in your forehead just trying to figure out what he was getting at. Jungkook didn’t seem to be in any rush to answer you. The two of you walking a few feet before he must have decided you’d waited long enough for him to reply.

“I always thought Kronk was stupid throughout the whole movie, but really, he was just a good person. He’s a good guy tasked to do a bad thing and he just wants to make people happy. Even if it means doing the wrong thing.”

You wanted to ask if maybe he was talking more about himself than The Emperor’s New Groove at this point. He faced forward with his brow creased in deep thought and whatever it was that held his thoughts didn’t appear to be anything good.

“Or,” you started, voice light enough to drag him out of his head, “it’s just a kids movie.”

Sure, Jungkook was looking at you, but he didn’t seem to actually see you. Somewhere inside his head, he was reenacting or seeing something that ate up all the sunshine that lived in his bones. It felt silly to feel a sense of panic about something that might not even be true. And yet, you couldn’t stop the awful thought that sadness was trying to make a home inside his soul.

Without giving it another thought you reached up and pretended to wipe away a pretend rogue eyelash from his cheek. The suddenness of your fingers brushing on his skin jolted him from wherever his thoughts had held him hostage and back into the present. His eyes darted around your face and his own hand came up to gently take yours.

“Sorry.” Your words came out breathy as you struggled not to focus on how he was practically holding your hand. “There was an eyelash. The wind must have blown it away.”

The earlier sadness that’d hollowed out his eyes was gone. What replaced it was one of knowing you weren’t telling the truth. His head tilted slightly down to inspect your empty finger of the proof you knew your words didn’t have whose eyes sparked with his usual teasing and something else. Something that left a different kind of heat flooding your cheeks.

“I’m sure there was.”

Reluctantly, you removed your hand from his and continued to walk. It only took him a couple seconds to fall effortlessly into step beside you making you wonder if his leg was as injured as it seemed.

A warm silence swelled around you as you continued to walk. A comfortable pace setting between you as he looked in the windows of every store you passed in between the changing streets. He never once asked if you were getting close to your home or how much farther it might be. It was like the moment on the back of the bus. The two of you enjoyed that the other was there without ever feeling the need to say it.

But you knew it was soon coming to an end. In only a few blocks, you’d be home and your fairytale moment would end. You were struggling on how to break this, more to yourself than Jungkook, when you noticed he pulled a Nikon camera from the side of his bag. He was squinting through the lens and taking photos of something up ahead. Of the landscape or the people and buildings that framed it you weren’t sure.

He must have sensed your silent question as he snapped a few more quick photos before turning to acknowledge you.

“Y/N, I have a serious question for you.”

It was hard to keep the amusement off your face as you both came to a stop. The place felt random, but it was anything but that to Jungkook. Whatever he saw in this space you both inhabited must have felt like magic to him.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Do you think we have enough time for me to take some photos?”

It felt like such an odd request. Why should anyone have to ask to do something that they loved? Jungkook didn’t fully say he loved doing it, but no one spent that much money on a nice camera if it wasn’t something they enjoyed doing. The look on his face was just an added bonus of proving your answer meant something. One that made you wonder why he felt like he needed your permission at all. And then it hit you: he wanted to stay in your company while he did it.

You considered teasing him, but he looked too vulnerable standing there. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. A pleading in his eyes that reminded you of a child asking a mother to go on just one more ride before they were forced to go home. You considered giving him the bad news that you had more than homework to do when you arrived home. But that could come another day. On this day, with him, you could spare an hour just to make him happy.

Instead of coming right out and letting him know you’d made up your mind, you decided to play coy. A soft, “Hmm,” hummed around you as you looked everywhere but him. Your index finger tapping on your lips for dramatic flare.

"Ok," You shrugged. "I think I have some free time I could spare."

His eyes squinted in question as you moved to stand in front of him. The movement simply to let a couple go by in peace, but somehow placed you closer in front of him. Jungkook’s gaze was roaming your face to find an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“You planned on saying yes this whole time, didn’t you. You were just trying to make me suffer waiting for you to answer.”

You gasped in pretend shock and did your best not to smile at his accusations. By the growing smile on his face you knew you were failing miserably.

“Me?! I would never do such a thing.”

“You’re secretly a sadist!”

Jungkook’s smile only widened as a scoff of disbelief passed from your lips. Your own smile grew to match his own when his hands lifted up his camera. Seconds later the sound of the shutter clicked and you felt your soul leave your body. The earlier playfulness was swiftly swept in your own dark cloud and the idea you probably looked hideous in that photo.

“Oh god, Jungkook delete it,” you pleaded.

Your hands were reaching out to grab tightly at this shirt. Your fingers curled in the white fabric until there was a small chance you could tear holes. The camera in question was being held far from your reach. His hand easily held it above his shoulder as he used one hand to steady you against him. You’d invaded his space without even realizing, but you had no time to be embarrassed. Not when he had a picture of you forever saved on that camera.

“Why would I delete it?”

He was his usual amused self you could tell, but he wasn’t egging you on. His question was out of curiosity. His own eyes brimming with it as you considered keeping one hand tightly wound in his shirt and the other to jump up and reach for the camera.

“Because Jungkook I’m not cute. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t ruin the camera.”

All his earlier playfulness drained from his face and what was left made you instantly feel like you were about to be scolded. His hand that had firmly planted itself on your hip was achingly apparent now as his fingers gripped you closer to him. Your own awareness at how close you actually were to his chest made your lips feel dry. Your tongue flicked out to wet them and god, it took everything in you not to focus on the fact his eyes had followed the movement.

“Y/N, why would you say that? You shouldn’t let anyone talk down about you, and you shouldn’t do it to yourself either. You’re beautiful.”

He spoke like it was a fact. A statement that not just the two of you knew, but the universe did too. And what were you supposed to say back? While you were held captive to the thought he was still looking from you to your lips. The determination for you to understand his words and believe them setting soft lines in his face. You tried to keep looking at him, but under his watchful gaze you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting. Your eyes moved down the line of his body until it landed on the tops of your shoes.

You weren’t sure what to say back. Thank you didn’t fit here. It didn’t feel like a moment where he was trying to boost your confidence the way a friend did. This felt more like someone who noticed something in you while you hadn’t been looking.

So instead of saying anything remotely clever back you began to dislodge yourself from him. Your hands releasing their hold on his shirt and forcing his hand off of your hip. Standing there with only inches between you, your body was achingly aware that his hand was gone. It’s weight leaving a burning of longing to have it back forced your hands into your pockets and your body turning away from him. You waited for him to start moving back down the road. The motion forced him to either join you or stay where he was.

“We should get going before we run out of time.”

You hated yourself for dismissing him. For not being bolder like you’d promised yourself earlier in the day. It would’ve been the perfect time to thank him. To tell him how you were pretty sure there wasn’t a soul on earth more attractive than him, but that what made him beautiful is what he refused to let people see. The soft tone of his voice still singing along to the songs on the back of the bus had ended up being an unspoken lullaby when you’d gone to sleep.

A part of you considered turning on your heel and telling him this. To tell him that you saw him; actually saw him for who he was and not who he felt like he needed to be. But you just kept moving forward and weren’t surprised when Jungkook found a steady rhythm back beside you.

The both of you stayed quiet. This time it felt more forced than the easiness of earlier. Like the two of you had so many missed starts at creating a conversation that neither of you could understand why it ended.

You watched him as he focused on the area around him. His camera training on an old couple who sat waiting for the next bus. The husband had clutched his wife’s arm close to his side. In his hands he was peeling what appeared to be an orange and with each freshly peeled slice, he gave one to her and one to himself. No one knew what they were conversing about, but it didn’t matter. To them, they were the only two people there. The wholesomeness of the moment made you wonder what they were like back in their youth.

You listened to the flutter of the shutter click repeatedly. His hand twisting on the lens to bring it in and out of focus, while he himself remained deadly focused on capturing their moment in time. You were curious how the photos would turn out in the end and wished there was a way to show them how their love translated on film.

You were in the middle of watching Jungkook turn his attention to a couple birds inside a cherry blossom when he spoke.

“Thank you for agreeing to walk with me while I do this.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook.”

A sad smile curled his lips as he dropped his camera down in front of him. His thumb skimmed over the buttons to quickly go through what he’d previously taken. The last one he landed on made his entire face light up and you felt a pang of jealousy at what it could be. How you wish he would look at you like that.

“Maybe, but I feel like I do. Ever since my accident, my appa hasn’t been able to force me into things. For once, I get to just do what I want. Sucks it only had to cost me a friend and a leg to get some freedom.”

Your feet had carried you to the next stop sign. The sudden halt in moving forced you to look at him, really look at Jungkook, like you’d never seen him before.

He wasn’t looking at you now. His ears a screaming red while his fingers danced over every part of the camera. His eyes roaming over its edges and flicking too fast through pictures to actually even be looking at them. For the first time since you’d met him Jungkook was scared to look at you. Scared for what you might see if you did.

Looking at him now, you couldn’t have been happier to indulge him. You’d indulge him for the rest of your life if he’d let you.

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”

You mentally smacked yourself at your choice of words. Jungkook, however, was backing to his beaming self as he finally glanced in your direction. His eyeing ate up your embarrassment as it was your turn to face forward. Your feet hopping in place as you waited for the light to flash it was okay to walk.

“I’m supposed to be at physical therapy right now.”

“Wait, what?”

The light was flickering finally for you to all move. Your feet moved to carry you forward unintentionally, just to keep with the flow of traffic, as Jungkook gave you a small shrug for an answer.

“Did you say you were supposed to be at physical therapy?”

Another shrug and another long pause with no answer. It seemed he had been waiting for you to round the corner onto a quieter pedestrian free street before he replied, “After school. I have appointments almost everyday and I never go.”

“But why? It’s meant to help you get better, isn’t it?”

“Get better to do what, exactly?” He huffed. Jungkook’s entire body took on a broodier tone. His cane practically dug small holes with each press into the pavement. “Who even says that I can get better?”

“Well, doctors for one,” you pointed out. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have signed you up for it if they didn’t believe you could get better.”

“If I was going to get better it would’ve happened already.”

It felt like walking on eggshells. This side of Jungkook was the boy you’d met on his first day of class. His guarded demeanor up on high alert, as he kept his gaze stoically forward and his chin held high.

“You’re not an idiot, Jungkook. You know injuries take time to heal from. It doesn't just magically happen overnight.”

“Who says that I want to get better?”

The coldness in his words forced your legs to stop working. Your feet were unable to move as he continued to push on ahead of you. His own movements became slower now as the long walk was beginning to take its toll on his leg. He knew you weren’t beside him anymore and still he tried to keep pushing forward, before eventually he had no other choice but to turn around.

The look on his face was as defiant as ever. Underneath that defiance was a sadness so raw you only wanted to reach out and hold him. If just to remind him that he was seen and that his pain mattered.

That’s when the realization hit you.

“Unless you feel like you deserve this.”

The stone façade he’d worked so hard to create in the past few minutes began to chip. His eyes being the first to show by the soft uprising of tears that you were right. Somewhere deep inside Jungkook believed that he deserved what happened to him. That this was punishment for losing a friend at his own hands, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with.

The tears that threatened to spill never did, but they were there. They floated dangerously at the surface of Jungkook’s control and he refused to let go. The rawness of his pain hit you and all you wanted was to help ease it. You weren’t sure if he would accept any kind of affection, even in a small hug. So your only option was to move closer to him. As close as he would allow without pushing you away.

With each step you could see his jaw clenching tighter; pulsing like he was fighting from saying something wicked to send you skirting back. He was just as afraid of what you were about to do as you were at being the one to do it.

When the tips of your shoes nudged against his you drew your eyes up until they landed on his. A spark of something; fear or uncertainty, flashed in his eyes. Was he expecting you to be cruel? To yell at him to stop being a child and to grow up? How much had he already heard those words shouted by adults? How long had he been standing there like this, in a world full of grief, and no one there to pull him out to breathe before the next wave suffocated him once more.

You weren’t sure if it was you or if what you said would matter, but it was important he heard it. It was important he knew that this was okay too.

“You got to forgive yourself sometime, Jungkook.”

The words themselves were simple. Simple and spoken between you as if there was a secret meant only for the two of you to hear. All you really wanted was for him to feel the sincerity of your words for him to know it was okay. Okay to feel sad, unsure, and helpless at times when all the world felt against you. It was okay to not know your first steps and okay to take those first steps when you were ready. Eventually, we needed to forgive, if only to give ourselves the chance to heal and move on.

His gaze was still misty with unshed tears and still they refused to fall. The pain and defiance that had turned his features harsh began to soften. All that hardness he struggled to keep himself in and others out was beginning to fade and the only thing left was him. All that sunshine that you’d seen lived in his smile and echoed in his laughter that crinkled in the corners of his eyes. The way he cared for others and making them feel cared for. The softness of his singing and the way he eagerly filmed people at their most vulnerable: at their most beautiful.

It was at this moment you felt your universe shift and tip until it realigned itself. With your fingers back to holding the edges of his shirt it took everything in you not to close those final inches and hug him. Jungkook closed that distance for you instead.

His lips crashing down on your cheeks causing a soft squeak of surprise to push free from your lips. A chuckle came as he came back into view and your mind struggled to comprehend what happened.

It wasn’t a kiss on the lips but…

“Did you just kiss my cheek?”

Your hand was up to the aforementioned spot. A wicked smile wiping away all of his sadness until you weren’t sure if it had been real at all or if you’d imagined it.

“I could kiss your lips if you’d like that instead.”

If your cheeks could get any hotter you could’ve fried food on them. You felt a surge of disappointment when Jungkook took a reluctant step back from you as his eyes dropped to check the time on his phone.

“As much as I hate to say this: I have to go.”

“All of the sudden you have to go,” you huffed.

Your words felt brave, but inside your heart was thundering wildly against your chest.

“I could stay if you want?”

Smoother than expected, Jungkook slid his way back to you. His chest bumping against you making you lose your footing just enough that it forced you to grab on to his shirt. Jungkook’s own hand had moved behind your back to steady you and bring you closer to him all at once.

You playfully smacked his chest and earned a soft laugh from him. Unfortunately, you found yourself peeling away from him. Your hands grasping at the strap of your bag to keep them from reaching back out for him.

“Not a chance.”

Your reply earned a playful pout from him as he started walking backwards away from you.

“I’ll remember that, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to start walking the rest of the way home. You didn’t get more than a few feet before he called back to you. Your eyes found him instantly in a crowd of people that continued to pass in front of him.

“I forgot to ask: what’s your number!”

He held up a pen expecting you to come back to him and write it down presumably on his arm or hand. You didn’t see any paper and could only assume. You knew it was all just a ploy to get you to come to him. The knowledge evident by the wicked grin on his face.

“You’re a math wiz, right?” Jungkook was perplexed for a second before you started reciting your number as loud as you were willing to shout it. The wind blew it away as he no doubt struggled to listen.

“Wow! What a way to play dirty.”

“If it’s meant to be you’ll figure it out.”

And maybe that was true. Maybe you both had a chance to write your own love story like from the movies and shows you used to watch with your mom. Like Rose and Jack from Titanic or Ross and Rachel...okay...maybe more like Chandler and Monica. Or maybe you were an idiot and should’ve just gone and wrote it down. It was too late now as he was already on the other side of the street.

You were ready to walk the rest of the way kicking yourself for being so lame when you heard him call your name again. When you turned you didn’t expect him to be trotting across the road. You didn’t expect him to stop in front of you and give you another quick kiss on the cheek, this one gentler than before, with every fiber of your body remembering just how soft his lips felt.

“I could fall in love with you, ya know.”

You watched as in the same breath he hopped back across the street and couldn’t help but think you already had.

————-

Later that night you were snuggled up inside the sheets of your bed. The only thing sticking out was the current book you were reading and the top of your head.

You hadn’t heard from Jungkook the rest of the day. Your heart hammered inside your chest every time your phone chimed with a new message only to deflate when you realized it wasn’t him. You loved your friends and all, but they weren’t who you’d been looking forward to all evening.

Maybe you should’ve just gone to him and written down your number. Like a normal human being would’ve done. You just had to be clever and yell it out like a lunatic. For all you knew, you could end up with a random stranger texting you at all hours.

Your current book that you were supposed to be reading but couldn’t really read because you couldn’t focus was now face planted onto your nose. A soft groan echoing into its pages as you fought not to close it and throw it somewhere in your room. You were a hundred percent sure you’d read the same sentence a few dozen times at this point.

In the morning, you decided, you most definitely were just going to write it down. Like a sane person would’ve done. You closed your book and placed it down beside you. Your eyes roaming up to stare at your ceiling and wondering if you were ever actually going to go to sleep when your phone chimed off.

You weren’t in any hurry to look. It could just be your parents from the restaurant making sure you were in bed. It could be one of your friends asking about making plans this weekend. It was probably still everyone but Jungkook and yet…

Your curiosity got the better of you. You shuffled inside your comforter, reached an arm out to grab your phone from the nightstand, and quickly pulled it back inside. You waited for your facial ID to unlock the screen to see who or what you’d received. Your own mind hyping up the suspense of the moment until it read over a reminder text from your dad about your chores for the upcoming weekends.

You hated you’d let yourself have even a glimmer of hope. It was official. You’d ruined your chances when it came to giving out your number. A groan was creeping its way up your throat as you quickly sent back a text. You knew your chores took over almost every weekend. Even when you’d made plans with friends, you’d ended up never going.

As soon as you’d hit send you were rolling over to put your phone back on your nightstand. The shrill sound of pinging messages stopped you cold. There was no way your dad had learned to text back that fast. You laid yourself flat back against the mattress and brought the phone to hover above your face.

Y/N?

Is this the right number finally?

Hello?!!

If this is the wrong person, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not crazy. Just looking for a girl.

Your heart leapt into your throat. It was beating so hard you were scared it would burst from your chest. Your eyes were still skimming over the line of text messages when another one sounded. You were so caught up in reading the next line you weren’t aware your clammy fingers had let the phone slip and it crash landed down on your face.

“Ooow!”

One hand scrambled to pick it back up off your face, while the other massaged the now swelling brim of your nose.

How many people have you texted before me?

There wasn’t a need to send a hi. To give him a coy response to continue to tease him or make him believe he’d gotten it wrong again. Your curiosity at the desperate way he seemed to have been looking for you was endearing. The thought that he’d spent so much time sending out random messages for a response, no matter how crazy he looked, felt silly but cute too.

Jungkook thought you were worth the trouble.

OH MY GOD IS IT REALLY YOU?! And maybe like... seventeen.

You snuggled deeper into your comforter as a soft giggle joined the growing smile across your face.

I’m sorry I should have just wrote it down when you offered the pen lol

It definitely would’ve made it a lot easier.

You’d asked yourself that question all evening while you’d waited for him. You bit your lips as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Unsure if you should take the chance and tell him.

“Screw it,” you whispered as you typed.

Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting forever.

Well, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. This girl thought it was a good idea to shout random numbers at me 😅😂.

Your head was shaking as you tried to figure out something witty to say. You couldn’t believe you were here. Inside your comforter cave smiling at your phone like a lunatic and wondering if maybe Jungkook was doing the same. Or what was he even doing? You were getting ready to type out that exact question when your phone pinged to life.

So, ugh, on to more important matters. It read. I was thinking about your love of random facts and I think I got one for you.

Ooooooo kekeke this should be good

Do you want to know it or not?

Okay okay! Lol please tell me Kookie

You could practically feel him screaming through your phone as a sideways glance emoji was sent back in a long lined response. You wondered if you’d completely ruined his fact telling when your phone went off.

I found this article that said the chances of finding your soulmate out of 500,000,000 people was impossible. But, if you just place it to where you are, to your age group, and timing it narrows it down to a 1 in 10,000 chance. What I’m trying to get at is...I think your my 1 in 10,000

You read the message on repeat. Over and over until you were sure you’d practically memorized it front and back. You wanted to ask him for his source material. Where such an article could exist. None of that really mattered to you and how could it?

You must have spaced out because you never sent him a reply. Your thoughts were still spinning in a world all their own as you wondered if he was sitting at his desk doing homework or lying in bed. If he was inside or outside and what had made him so brave to send that message: believing you felt the same.

The vibration of the phone brought you back down to earth. You expected to see question marks or another line of, “Hello?” To have left him on read. Instead, the only thing that greeted you was a simple, Goodnight, Y/N.

This time there was no hesitation from you.

Goodnight, Jungkook

See you in the morning ?

His text felt so hopeful. A silent undertone that if you said no there was a chance you’d break him. You bit your lip as you thought about what this meant. The beginning of small promises that eventually grew into bigger ones.

I’ll meet you at the gate

You both finished up with another round of good night’s that felt like the embarrassing texting equivalent of “no you hang up! No you!” And placed your phone back on your night stand. It took forever for the sandman to finally claim you. Your dreams consisting of the magic of being Jungkook’s 1 in 10,000.

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Permafrost: Chapter 1

Summary: After Virgil agrees to follow Roman into the Imagination, a shift in the weather and an unfortunate misstep sends Virgil plummeting into uncharted waters. If only it didn't take a matter of life or death and a race against time to realize the Prince might not hate him after all.

TW: Drowning, progressing hypothermia, effects of severe cold

Notes: Romantic Prinxiety (pre relationship, they’re pining idiots) Right now I think this will only be a couple chapters, but let me know if I should make a taglist for this story!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“This is stupid,” Virgil said for the third time in the last ten minutes. “We’re gonna freeze to death.”

It was very clearly pissing Roman off, and if he wasn’t so miserable he’d be grinning like an idiot at the Prince’s clear exasperation. “We’re not going to freeze. Don’t be dramatic, Negative Nancy, that’s my thing.”

Virgil scoffed, glancing up at the expanse of snow covered trees towering overhead, branches bare and twisted, coated in sparkling white. It felt endless, everything around them perfectly identical and a little overwhelming.

He shuddered as the wind picked up again, drowning out anything he might have been about to say, and he absently shook off snow sticking to his shoes, really wishing he’d decided to wear his combat boots today.

Then again, he hadn’t expected to be trapped in the Imagination in below freezing weather.

“Let me complain, Princey,” he said, hoping that their familiar banter could make this whole thing suck a little bit less. “You’re the one that trapped me in here.”

“You’re the one that agreed to follow me,” Roman shot back, a little more sharp than Virgil had been hoping for. “You didn’t have to.”

“You invited me. And someone has to make sure you don’t get killed in here.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Roman said. “The cold is no match for a dashing Prince! Besides, the beast is dead, my realm is perfectly safe when I need it to be- if it weren’t for someone refusing to enjoy the scenery, this might actually be a nice walk.”

“It’s freezing and we have to walk for another hour,” Virgil argued. “How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this?”

It hadn’t been snowing when they’d first stepped into the Imagination, some two hours ago now. It had been warm and sunny, the world around them lush and green, bright and inviting as Virgil followed Roman on his apparently routine adventure.

He hoped it hadn’t been obvious how excited he’d been when Roman had asked him to come along. He and the Prince had never been close, (that was putting it lightly, Virgil was all too aware of how much Roman hated Anxiety) but ever since Virgil had revealed his name things had been...better.

Not great, nowhere near perfect, but better. Their fights had started to devolve into banter, and Virgil found he actually enjoyed talking to Roman now. He wasn’t reduced to a villain anymore, and he’d never actually realized just how much he hated the tight feeling in his chest when Thomas had always dismissed him as the bad guy. He’d been pushing the hurt down for so long and now…

Now wasn’t the time to think about it. Now was the time to focus on moving forward, as shaky as the progress was sometimes. It was still progress.

Virgil knew Roman didn’t like him, and he probably had no intention of even being real friends, any effort to be polite for Patton and Logan’s sake only.

Which Virgil might have been able to live with, if he hadn’t recently figured out that he really, really liked Roman.

He’d sort of...not actually hated the Prince for a while now, just another hopeless, gnawing feeling that drove him to consider ducking out in the first place.

The feelings had come out of nowhere, slowly sneaking up on him and only growing now that they were closer, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

The things Roman did that Virgil had once thought were annoying became...begrudgingly endearing. His rants, his dramatic gestures, the constant singing and humming under his breath...it was all so stupidly charming. Roman was funny and kind and passionate and brave and...and Virgil might have developed a little bit of a crush.

Dammit.

He knew nothing would come from it. He could be pretty stupid, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise. Roman had declared him an enemy since day one, and Virgil was just beginning to hope the Prince might actually tolerate him enough to call him a friend. Just a friend.

But Roman had invited him into the Imagination today, to be an extra set of eyes while he slayed the monster patrolling the realm, and Virgil had agreed without a second thought. If he and Roman could just learn to coexist...Virgil didn’t need anything else. Anything was better than being hated.

And having Roman as a friend was far from the worst thing in the world. It still gave him the Prince’s smiles, his laughs, and his company.

That being said, trudging through the snow and freezing his ass off for the next hour was not how he’d like to be spending the day. Why couldn’t Princey invite him to do something normal like watching a movie?

“Aren’t you supposed to be Creativity?” Virgil called over the wind picking up. God, it was cold. “Why can’t you just change the weather back?”

Roman had his back to him, keeping a few paces ahead, but Virgil could practically feel his eye roll. “I don’t control the weather here. Thomas does.”

“Thomas?”

“Not intentionally,” Roman said. “When it’s snowing like this, it probably means he’s worried or…or stressed about something.”

Virgil didn’t miss the slight hesitation, the way Roman glanced back at him, and he instinctively hunched his shoulders and pulled his hood tighter around himself.

It wasn’t his fault. He knew everyone liked to point fingers and place the blame on Anxiety whenever Thomas wasn’t feeling his best, but Virgil wasn’t here to hurt him. He just wanted to help, and he’d been trying so hard to be better lately, but he still managed to be the bad guy.

He opened his mouth to mutter an apology the Prince would probably only scoff at, but Roman beat him to it.

“Ignore that,” he said quickly, tone suddenly nowhere near his usual bravado. “I didn’t mean to imply...nevermind. Sorry.”

It was clearly forced and a little desperate, just like it had been in front of the others whenever Roman would catch himself on an insult or a nickname, but Virgil found he appreciated the effort all the same. As awkward as it was.

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. “Seriously, it’s whatever. I’ll...I can check on Thomas when we get back.”

Roman didn’t respond, but he did look over once again to flash Virgil a genuine smile, and he forcibly pushed down the butterflies rising up in his chest. It was just Roman. He was not about to get flustered because Roman had smiled at him.

But maybe it was a sign that they were getting somewhere. Maybe-

“Shit!”

Virgil froze, Roman’s curse almost drowned out by the sudden CRACK that echoed through the snowy forest. A chunk of ice broke under Roman’s boot, just big enough for him to stumble, his leg disappearing up to his knee.

“God dammit that’s freezing!”

“I thought the cold didn’t bother you,” Virgil teased before he could stop himself. He moved to help, only for Roman to hold out a warning hand. “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” The Prince wobbled a bit before he managed to pull his leg up and out of the ice, the soaked and dripping cloth clinging to his skin. “Except that my leg is going to fall off!”

Virgil couldn’t imagine how cold that must be, to feel icy cold wind against soaked clothes, but he could recognize that Roman wasn’t actually hurt or scared, despite the way he’d started shivering a bit. Thank god the water was only up to his knee.

“Stop panicking,” Virgil said, and smirked despite his own rising worry. “That’s my thing, Princey.”

Roman scoffed and shook out his leg, drops of water seeping into the plush white snow. The ice they hadn’t even realized they’d been walking on creaked under the movement and Virgil paled, eyes flying to Roman who quickly noticed the anxious side’s distress.

“Relax,” the Prince said. “It was just a weak spot, and it’s only a couple inches deep. I could reach the bottom.”

“We should still be worried about getting our clothes wet in this weather.” It seemed to have gotten colder, even as Virgil remained perfectly dry. “Didn’t Logan do a whole lecture about hypothermia a few years ago?”

“We’re not getting hypothermia, Panic at the Everywhere. Logan gives a lecture on everything. Worst case scenario is I come down with a little cold, and our dear Patton feels guilty and smothers me for a few days.”

Virgil laughed, carefully stepping around the hole Roman had created. “I’m pretty sure it’s not Patton’s fault you’re so clumsy.”

“No, but he practically forced me to bring you out here.” And just like that Virgil’s good mood was gone, stomach twisting uncomfortably as the words set in.

It shouldn’t be a surprise- of course Roman wouldn’t voluntarily spend the day with him. Patton wanted everyone to get along for Thomas’s sake, and he’d made Roman drag Virgil along like an unwanted nuisance.

“Oh.”

“So if we look miserable enough when we get back, we can coax Pat into making us cookies and hot chocolate,” Roman said, and he didn’t seem to notice Virgil’s shift in mood. “Just try to watch your step, ok?”

Roman clearly didn’t think he had said anything wrong, only scowling at his now soaking wet pant leg before turning to continue forward. He obviously thought Virgil knew this, that he wasn’t stupid enough to think he was actually wanted.

Well, at least Roman was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Even if Virgil apparently was that stupid.

They kept walking, Virgil ending up trailing a bit behind with slightly numb hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. Roman managed to make it even farther ahead, humming some vaguely familiar tune as he watched the snowfall, and Virgil wondered if he should just let the Prince make the rest of the walk by himself, kind of wanting to just lay down and let the snow bury him.

The wind was picking up, and Virgil was clearly finding it more difficult to trek through the snow than Roman was. The Prince didn’t seem inclined to leave him behind though, slowing down and smiling patiently at the anxious side every few moments, letting him catch up on his own time.

He wondered why Roman didn’t just quicken his pace and leave him. It wasn’t like Virgil would go tell Patton just to get him in trouble. As much as it hurt knowing Roman wanted nothing to do with him, that someone had to make Roman spend time with him, it hurt worse to think that the Prince had just been faking it.

He’d thought...God, he’d actually thought they might be getting somewhere. That maybe, maybe Virgil’s feelings for the Prince weren’t as pointless as they’d once been.

The soft little smiles sent his way, the light touches on Virgil’s back or shoulder, the quiet jokes meant just for him, the way Roman’s eyes would linger for just a second…

He noticed it a second too late, caught up in his own head instead of paying careful attention to where he was stepping like he usually would, only pulled from his thoughts by another ear splitting crack as a piece of ice gave way right where he’d stepped down.

It was sudden and loud, and Virgil yelped when he stumbled and fell to the ground, hands losing feeling completely as they grabbed at the snow and his foot disappeared under the ice.

“Fuck- Roman!”

He heard Roman laugh, but it was almost impossible to make out over the howling of the wind and the pounding of his own heart. The water was so cold, (thank god he’d managed to stop himself before it went past his shin) like a million little knives dancing along his skin, paying no mind to what little protection his clothes offered.

“You’re fine,” Roman called, voice small and distant like he’d kept walking. Virgil didn’t dare look up, eyes on the ground beneath his hands. “It’s not deep, Virge, you can stand up.”

Virgil nodded even though he doubted Roman could see it, his voice refusing to cooperate. He squeezed numb hands into shaky fists, took a breath, and pushed himself up to stand on his free leg.

The next moment happened so fast, Virgil didn’t even register that more ice had broken under his weight until he felt himself falling, and suddenly the icy cold water was much higher than just his leg.

It felt like he’d been hit by a bus- a very, very cold bus- and Virgil gasped as all the ice below him gave way, the water rising up to his chest, wrapping around his body like a vice and yanking him forward without warning.

It was like hundreds of frozen hands were grabbing at him and tugging viciously, shoving him along with the water’s surprisingly violent current while trying to drag him down below the dark surface. Virgil barely had half a second to force his arms to move, frantically reaching for the nearest chunk of intact ice.

He couldn’t feel his fingers, and his hands were shaking so bad he almost didn’t make it, but he managed to get a grip on the edge just in time.

He gasped as he pulled himself to a sudden stop against the relentless current, weakening arms protesting the sudden strain, choking and coughing on the frigid water that managed to lap at the corners of his mouth.

“Princey!” he tried to scream, but he could barely hear himself over the roar of the river. The water hurt, the cold seeping into his skin and stealing his breath, and it took all of his quickly fleeting energy to keep holding on. “Roman!”

There was no response, at least not one that Virgil could hear, and he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to see if help was coming, terrified that if he looked away from his hands he’d forget how to hold on.

He had to strain to keep his head above water, and he felt like there were boulders in his pockets weighing him down. He was left kicking desperately against the water, because it was definitely not shallow enough for him to stand.

Roman had said it was. Roman had laughed and kept walking and he’d...he hadn’t...he hadn’t left, had he? If he’d done this on purpose-

The dread and fear that came with the thought was almost more overwhelming than the thought of drowning, and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut as he tightened his hold, because Roman wouldn’t do that. He may not like Virgil, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t...he wouldn’t do this.

A grim voice in the back of his head told him Roman wouldn’t care, that Virgil would never be worth worrying about. Maybe it wasn’t the wind and rushing water blocking out the Prince’s voice...maybe he’d really just already walked away.

He choked back tears and put all his fading focus into staying above the water, the current’s pull growing stronger as his kicking became weaker and weaker. He couldn’t keep holding on. It was so cold and he was so tired-

“Virgil!”

Roman? It was so hard to tell for sure, everything distant and hazy compared to the roaring in his ears and his own too shallow breaths.

Oh god, he couldn’t hold on, he was slipping, he was going to fall-

“Virgil! Hold on, I’m coming!” Either that was Roman, or Virgil’s brain was being very cruel to him right before he died. The latter honestly seemed more likely. “Hold on, please just- I’m coming just hold on!”

He couldn’t feel his hands, barely able to comprehend anything around the all consuming pain settled around him like a blanket, leaving him shaking and numb, teeth chattering in his skull louder than a gunshot and he couldn’t do this- he couldn’t hold on he couldn’t-

“Virgil!”

Virgil didn’t even register what had happened, left only to wonder why the strain on his arms had suddenly been lessened for a single blissful second before realizing his frozen hands had slipped from the ice.

There wasn’t time to take another breath, the river seizing its opportunity to rise above his head and push him under the dark and freezing water, everything suddenly horribly silent.

#fanfiction #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #thomas sanders #sanders sides #hurt/comfort #this fic is so self indulgent you guys #writing

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debbierhea · 3 years

Text

and the world around us shatters / better call saul / wc: 2392 / kimmy jimmy omaha cinnabon reunion / special thanks to @kimberly-wexler for the beta <3

Summary:

She’d been searching. For years.

She’d been searching. For years. Hired a PI and then another. Scoured every database she had credentialed access to and then a few she didn’t. Even adopted a cat to soothe the loneliness, lull the throbbing emptiness she felt in her chest. She’d had one as a girl once, a stray really, whom she loved. But this cat was as sulky and capricious as she had become and no matter how committed she was to ignoring it, the ulterior motive of pet adoption was glaring, if not to anyone else, to her.

After three months of No. Not like this. You can’t. Leave it alone. Don’t get involved, the ill-tempered tabby was Kim’s foot in the door. It was a Thursday when she sat across from his veterinarian, cat on the exam table, and said, “I need your help.”

“What kind of help are we talking?” He eyed her, stroked the tabby between her ears.

“I’m looking for someone.” Silence followed.

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that.”

“You know him. Jimmy McGill.”

His eyebrows rose. More silence.

“Well, can you help me or not?”

“You know it’s not always a matter of can I help.”

Kim tilted her chin, raised her eyes to meet his, unflinching. “Does that mean you won’t help me?”

“Hm?” The cat was purring into his hand, licking his thumb. “Oh, no. Just that my price may be something you’re unwilling to pay.”

She swallowed. “That’s not possible.”

“Okay then,” he nodded, stuck out his hand. She shook it.

Now, she was wandering through a sea of midwesterners in puffy coats and mittens, dusting snow off their shoulders, chattering about the weather. She hasn’t been back to this part of the country in years and it oddly feels like a homecoming, though she stopped considering Nebraska home the moment she left. It was simply a place she had lived, never one that offered family or comfort or love. There were sparse memories of joy with the odd classmate and a fond recollection of the first grade teacher who encouraged her to read, helped her get her very own library card. But now as then, there never existed a sense of ease or belonging for her. Even so, the familiarity of the Casey’s General Store on the corner, the Runzas on menus across state rest stops, the flurries of snow reddening her nose and chilling her bones, fostered a small flame of hope deep inside. She could still recognize, even find comfort in, a place she so detested. After the passage of so many years, this place was still the same and, underneath the new high rises and parking meters and sushi restaurants, she could see the bones of this city. Maybe the same could hold true for other things in her life.

Looking over the map in the lobby, she cupped her hands before her mouth and blew into them. The chill rested deep inside her, the hope she fostered in her heart doing little to warm her weary bones. All her work was to lead to this: trudging up the tiled stairs in damp snow boots surrounded by people who knew nothing about pain, not really. Not pain like hers.

She smelled it before she saw it, curving with the second floor walkway past storefront after storefront of clothes and books and knick knacks. She had just side-stepped the man trying to give free lotion samples when the warmth of cinnamon and sugar wafted over her. Her footsteps stuttered and her gait slowed. It was like watching a car whose engine was stalling out. She was light-headed, unable to string a thought together, parse out what she was feeling in her body besides a deep urge to run. Her therapist would tell her that she wanted to run because of her fear of being vulnerable and then being left behind. Again. Kim pushed hair that had fallen loose of her ponytail behind her ear, took three deep breaths, and followed her nose.

A small line stood in front of the cash register, three or four people, waiting for a treat to get them through their holiday shopping. She contemplated her next step from across the food court. Anticipation fluttered through her, givinggave rise to goosebumps beneath her layers of knit and down. Then further, deeper, beneath the adrenaline, lived something twisting and gnawing inside of her chest. She knew this thing like she knew the location of every security camera at the Hinky Dinky or the route she took home after school when her mom got too lost in the liquor aisle to remember to pick her up. This thing she knew was fear—fear of hope, of the inevitable ache of a further bruised heart. She crossed the food court despite it.

Trying to slip back into her midwestern skin, move through this world unassuming and deferential, she stood to the right of the registers, observing the ebb and flow of workers behind the glass. Dough was being kneaded by one, another opened an oven to check the progress of the bake. A third manned the register. A second till was sat unused, cash drawer open and empty. She stood there, just outside the current of customers, twitching her chapped fingers, tapping them against the inside of her own palm. He used to tease her for it. Five minutes passed, then ten. The line grew longer. Her flame of hope was waning.

Then, a voice—a bellow, more like—broke through the low hum of conversation in the food court.

“Coming! I’m coming, Miranda!” Kim froze.

A man in an apron and mustache came through the door marked “Employees Only” and made his way to the front of the store, a full cash drawer in his hands.

“Sorry! For some reason the safe just wouldn’t open.”

Kim was drifting through the crowd, pulled toward his voice. Her eyes began to burn.

“Here are some quarters for you. I figured you might be running low.” His eyes flicked up, scanning the crowd, estimating how many rolls they should throw into the oven. “I’ll open this one up and—,” his roaming gaze stopped. “And I, uh....”

She swallowed, her throat tight, eyes glassy. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He stood, slack jawed, staring.

“Um, Miranda I—Just, uh, just take this,” he handed the cash drawer to the teenager standing next to him, eyes never leaving Kim’s. “I’ll be right back.”

His shoes squeaked as he made his way around the counter and out into the seating area of the restaurant. Kim hadn’t moved, stunned like a deer in headlights on a Nebraska back road. He seemed as though he was moving in slow motion, each step towards her an eternity, and yet it was still not long enough to prepare herself for him to be standing directly in front of her. She felt like she’d just fallen through the ice into a glacial lake. No, she hadn’t fallen. She’d jumped. On purpose. And broke through.

He stood there, inches from her; she could see the gray in his mustache. He paused, just for a moment, then said, “Follow me.”

And she did.

They weaved in and out of tables and shoppers and janitors picking up fast food wrappers off the floor. He glanced back at her once, as if he was scared she wouldn’t be there behind him, as if she hadn’t been following him, chasing him, for what felt like her whole life. He led them down a hallway, empty save for a woman waiting on a bench between two bathroom doors, one labeled with a dress, the other a tie. Kim gave her a close-mouthed smile.

Jimmy stopped abruptly, reaching for the door to the family restroom. He held it open, looked into her eyes. Kim gave the woman another glance, cheeks reddening, and walked through the door before she could think or feel or do anything that would make her stop herself. She moved towards the far, tiled wall and as she turned, heard the clicking of the door’s latch, then the lock.

He paused then, there, gripping the door handle, his head resting against its grain. His body was tense, coiled and bound and, she realized, foreign to her. Stooped shoulders, billowing polo, slight waist cinched by an apron. Even from behind, he looked bleary, posture like a drooping flower on the sill. What happened to him?

Kim was grateful for this pause he was granting her. Everything seemed to be moving at a pace she was incapable of matching, an emotional marathon she had not trained for; she never did have much emotional stamina outside of simply holding them all in, like a child holding their breath in the deep end of the pool.

Then, he turned.

He was just as unfamiliar from the front as he was from behind, cheeks a bit sallow and stippled with five o’clock shadow, wiry glasses. His nametag read “Gene.” But Jimmy McGill was still the same in his bones and in the time it takes to exhale that breath you’ve been holding under the gentle waves of your childhood pool, the split second it takes for that breath to form a spray of bubbles racing you to the surface, they were in each other’s arms.

Centered on the yellowing, speckled tile, they grasped at shoulders and elbows, knees knocked, tears fell. Finally, Kim slipped her arms around his ribs and clutched him to her chest, nails digging into cotton and, beneath, soft skin. His face caught between shoulder and neck, he inhaled the scent of her, goosebumps rising as her puffy, down sleeves brushed against his bare arms. His hands roamed her back, skidding and sliding across slick fabric. It felt as if his hands had been frozen and he had finally found the fire he’s sought to warm them. Sneaking his right hand up and up and under the thick wool of her scarf, he hesitated just a moment before placing his fingertips to the soft skin of her neck. She gasped, a sob drawn out on a breath. His left hand pushed into the small of her back. She pulled him in tighter.

They held each other there, flushed and desperate and weepy, for a time—how long, neither could say. As the hand rubbing her back would slow, she would squeeze his middle gently as if to say Not yet and he would answer with gentle pressure between her shoulder blades. When her grip on him would loosen, his fingers would drift into the hairs at the base of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, and she would let him. This is how they stayed, questioning and answering each other as only they could with little more than a sigh passing through their lips.

Then, Kim began to pull gently away. He stiffened the moment he sensed her movement from him, but she did not try to leave his embrace, this wasn’t her intention, not truly. She only wanted to see his dear face, maybe say hello. Placing one hand on his chest, she leaned ever so slightly back as his arms moved to circle her waist. Tears clung to his lashes and dripped from the tip of his nose. He swallowed hard as her eyes roamed his face, different but somehow entirely the same. She felt like she was back in the HHM parking garage bumming a smoke from the new guy in the mailroom. Hundreds of days and miles from then, he was still hers.

Bringing both hands up, cupping his jaw, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs, she smiled. “Jimmy.”

At this, his eyes closed, Kim holding him tenderly in her palms. He hasn’t heard that name in years. When was the last time he thought of himself as anyone other than Saul Goodman? Saul the criminal defense attorney. Saul on the run. Saul posing as a Cinnabon manager. More tears fell free.

Removing his hands from her waist, he held her delicate wrists, one in each hand, his thumbs mimicking her caress across his skin. She gave the slightest tilt of her head and he answered with a reed-thin voice, a sad smile, “It’s you.”

She knitted her perfectly arched brows, that tell-tale wrinkle emerging between them, her eyes soft and wet, red-rimmed. She bit her lip and began to shake her head, never removing her gaze from his. After a moment, she smiled again, smaller this time, lips closed, and slipped one hand smoothly into his, the other onto his shoulder, not willing to break contact.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

More tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes as he rolled them to the ceiling, heart aching.

“Kim…I…”

“I know.” A pause. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Baby, I know.”

From shoulder back to his neck, Kim guided Jimmy with her hand, resting his forehead against her own, meeting in the middle, holding him there.

“Oh god—” a sob broke from deep in his chest.

Kim stroked his neck, shoulder, face, back. Jimmy wept.

Tears darkened the collar of his polo shirt and the tremors running through his body prompted Kim to wrap herself around him once more, burying her nose in his neck, focusing on the sickly-sweet scent of yeasted dough rising, cinnamon, and icing sugar over the pain so fierce living in the main between her arms.

As all things do with time, his sobs became weaker and fewer, until his breathing returned to a shallow, exhausted inhale, sniffly exhale. Kim lifted him from her shoulder and he raised his eyes towards hers. Her lips twitched, and then she brought them to his cheek. One, then the other, over and over, like salve to a wound she covered his drying tear tracks with her lips. Gentle and soft, like the flap of a butterfly’s wings did she kiss him. And then, she centered herself, hand threading into his hair, she moved to his lips.

“Kim,” he whispered, a breath from her lips.

“Yes?”

“What if you’ve come all this way to find someone who…doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”

Again, Kim knit her brows and shook her head. She placed her right hand over his heart, lifted her shoulders gently in a shrug.

“It’s you.”

#better call saul #bcs #mcwexler #my fic

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primalsouls · 3 years

Text

white rabbit pt 4

langa hasegawa x gn! reader (pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3)

anon: will white rabbit have a part 4? ( if yes pls pls give them a happy ending hehe ) but its oki if you dont want to, no pressure! i just really enjoyed it and i love ur writing btw :)

⚠️ : im terrible at picking up what's a trigger, so let me know is there's anything uncomfortable!

theme: general

note: ooh my heart 💔 rip white rabbit 🐇🙏🕊 anyway, here's pt 4! :> i hope you like it and enjoy it! and thank you for reading! let me know what you think. :) i really like this chapter the most lol

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

"Leave... Wonderland?"

"Forever?"

Reki and Langa stared at Adam with frowns on their face. Eyes widen at the words. Whispers surrounded them quick, destroying the small silence that gave the words to settle in for everyone. Blue eyes looked back at the [h/c]-haired skater. Their head still hanged low but he could see the sheer rage their fists held.

"He's saying that... [Y/N] [L/N], the White Rabbit, is leaving S." Miya repeated.

"Forever. Meaning.... They're kicked out." Shadow sighed, shaking his head.

Hearing those words, [Y/N] gritted their teeth and unclenched their fists. They looked up at Adam, a pleading expression on their face as they pulled their hoodie back.

"P-please... I don't wanna leave." They said, voice cracked in the beginning. Langa's heart broke at the sight. But before he could do anything, Adam walked up to them. "I'll do anything, please. Let me stay!" They continued but they flinched when their board was taken away from them harshly by Adam.

"A bet is a bet. Besides, it's about time S gets rid of its pests." Adam grinned. He snapped his finger, a couple of men bringing in a can of gasoline and a box of matches. Their eyes widen. Langa and the rest of his friends stood frozen, unable to believe the scene before them. Silence took over the crowd. [Y/N] knew they couldn't do anything to stop Adam from destroying their skateboard. "You should have won and this wouldn't happen. Remember, it's your fault." He said quietly. And with sheer power, he lifted the board and broke it in half with his knee. [Y/N] stared at him with wide eyes and mouth gaped slightly in shock. Tears pooled up and streamed down their cheeks one by one, one after the other.

"N-no... please, don't..." They whispered, a hand reaching out weakly but it didn't move much. [Y/N] was too shock to move any more than an inch.

Adam threw the broken board on the ground. He was handed the gasoline and the box of matches. He poured the liquid over the pieces, his masked eyes never leaving his younger sibling's face. Their look of terror filled him with chills. He loved it. Such as he loved the finish touch to the punishment. With elegance, Adam pulled out a match and stroke it on the igniter side of the box. Fire bursts on the matchstick. Adam flicked it onto the broken board like it was nothing and within seconds, flames burst to life, consuming the skateboard.

Langa watched with horror. [Y/N] didn't deserve that. They didn't deserve to leave. A bet wasn't even established. So, why? Why was this happening? His eyes went up to [Y/N].

"White Rabbit-"

"They're no longer go by that title." Adam interrupted coldly. "By losing this beef, no only are they banned from S, their title is no longer theirs to claim. White Rabbit is dead." Langa's eyes widen as his frown deepened. He couldn't believe it. This was not supposed to happen. Not supposed to lead to this results. No one supposed to be kick out or strip from their title. Adam reached a hand out. Langa saw how tensed [Y/N] got as the hand grew closer to them. The gloved fingers gently held into the S pin. It was on their collar of their hoodie but the next second, it wad ripped off from them. He threw it into the flames.

"I... I'm sorry..." [Y/N] apologized. Langa didn't understand. There was nothing to apologize for. Was it for Adam? For losing the race and everything they built for themselves? [Y/N] kept staring at the board, not noticing Adam turned his back on them. But his last words lef them in breaking in pieces.

"And don't bother coming home. A wild animal like you don't belong there. Never had and never will." As his final saying, Adam picked up his board and walked away but stopped to face Langa with a smirk. "Oh, and once again, my dear SNOW, congratulations." Langa blinked, watching Adam disappeared from everyone's sight.

"Damn..." Shadow muttered.

"Vanished from S... what a turn of events." Miya commented quietly.

Reki frowned at Adam's disappearing figure before he turned to Langa and [Y/N]. Everyone else slowly departed. Reki walked up to the two skaters, the broken board still caught in flames. Tears continued to spill from their eyes, Reki saw. Before the two could say any sort of comfort words to them, [Y/N] turned away from them and ran, ran as fast as they could. Away. They needed to get away and breathe. They couldn't breathe properly. Their chest was killing them. Sobs caught in their throat when they tried to cry. It hurts them. Their heart hurts. Everything was always their fault. They deserved. They believed they deserved it. They weren't a Shindo. They were a pest in the family. That was why Adam-no-Ainosuke told them not to come home. He was kicking them out. He was probably make up a lie to their aunts to make it seem it was their decision. For the better of the Shindo Family, they would say.

Life truly wasn't fair.

"C'mon, let's go!" Langa said, getting ready to chase after them but Reki grabbed his arm, pulling him back. He winced, the grip on his arm reminded him of the injuries he received during the race. "Wha- what? We have to go after them, Reki." He said, pointing towards [Y/N] running off.

"But you'll hurt even more with injuries like this. Besides, it's not our business. What happened with them was between them and Adam." Reki said. Miya nodded as he walked up to them.

"He's right, Langa. We should stay out of it. They're no longer of importance." Miya added in, crossing his arms over his chest. Langa frowned at the two boys.

"It's probably not the best time to even go after them. It's best that we mind our own business for now." Shadow advised, the other two boys giving affirmative responses. Langa tried to come up with reasons to go after them, but Reki shook his head and led Langa awau from the factory, pointing out the cuts once again. That was the last time Langa saw [Y/N].

The past couple of weeks, they were no were in sight. No familiar white hoodie resembling a white rabbit was found around S. No one spoke about them. It was like they never existed in the first place. As if S never heard of a skater called White Rabbit. Langa tried to find ways to get into contact with them but whenever he mentioned them, he was ignored, shut down, avoided. He was worried for them, for their safety. If Adam truly meant his words, then where would [Y/N] be? Langa wanted to make sure they were okay. That was all he wanted to know.

"[Y/N]... where are you?" Langa muttered as he walked through the park. He was planning to meet Reki at their usual hangout. Although, he wanted to clear his mind out of [Y/N] and the events that occurred. It wasn't their fault. It was his. If he never beef against them, Langa would had still see them every night at S, even from a fair distance to admire them. They would still be in his life, somehow.

"Ah, sorry..." A tired voice said. Langa looked down, not realizing he bumped into someone. He did felt something hit him as he walked, but he didn't pay too much attention. Langa opened his mouth to apologize instead but words were caught in his throat. His eyes widen. He couldn't believe it. The board in his hand dropped to the ground beside him, both hands reaching up a bit.

"It's you..." Langa whispered. Confusion replaced the apologic gaze on their face. "White Rabbit." When the title left his lips, it was their turn for their eyes to grew wide. Langa smiled brightly. "It's you, White Rabbit. [Y/N]." Langa was happy. He found his white rabbit once more. But no more words left Langa's lips as a hand slapped his cheek. It took him a second to register the outcome. A shaky hand of his reached to touch the burning cheek. He flinched when his fingers came into contact. "Wh-what?" A handprint appeared as a light red shade on his cheek. His eyes focused on them. They didn't wore their signature hoodie. Only a black one with dark blue jeans and white Vans shoes. Their eyes were still the same crimson color but filled with anger. And sadness? Langa parted his lips, unable to say anything.

"Don't call me that name. Because of you, I'm no longer.... that..." [Y/N] spat out, glaring dangerously at Langa. "You took everything away from me. You ruined my life!" They yelled, all the feelings they tried to bottle in exploded. Langa watched with a shook expression as they ranted off on him. He may be dense to others' emotions but he could pick up the hurt in [Y/N]'s voice. The way they trembled with rage. He didn't like that. Langa didn't like seeing them upset. Especially when hd was the one who caused it.

"I'm sorry."

[Y/N] paused, staring at Langa with wide eyes. Their frown grew deeper as they tried to find any sort of pity or joke in his baby blue eyes. In which they felt like they were looking at the ocean. So blue. Like the sky. [Y/N] shook their head rapidly, gritting their teeth.

"Oh, shut up. I don't need your pity. And I doubt you're sorry! Because of you, not only was I kicked out of S, I was kicked out of my home... Not like it ever felt like home anyway..." They said, mumbling the last words but Langa caught them.

"Wait? Home... Where were you staying at?" Langa asked, voice filled with concern. [Y/N] scrunched their nose, eyes narrowed. "I swear, I'm not pitying you. I'm actually... worried. I've been worried for a long time now. Ever since you left S." Langa said, looking away from them, sudden feeling timid for no particular reason. They raised a brow, watching Langa's movements to fact-check his worries. There was no hint of him lying. But they still kept their guard up. "I even asked around back in S for the past few weeks. Not one single person said anything...It's like you-"

"-never existed." They continued for him softly, eyes casted down to the ground. Their features relaxed but Langa noted the sadness stayed. No anger in sight. They sighed tiredly, running a hand through their hair. "Doesn't matter... Just stop it." [Y/N] crossed their arns over their chest, raising a brow. "Beside, the hell you kept asking about me? Aren't you happy I've been kicked?"

Langa shook his head right away once the question next their lips.

"No. I'm not happy. In fact, I..." Langa took a deep breath, trying to think on his words before they left his mouth. "I'm not enjoying myself." He mumbled, making [Y/N] take a step closer to hear him properly. They tilted their head, lips tugged down a bit as they urged him to repeat himself and keep going. "It makes me sad not to see you at S anymore. I didn't want any of that to happen. I didn't even know what was going on." Langa shrugged, looking at them with a pout. A pout they found adorable. He looked like a kicked puppy who didn't like the fact their owner left their home everyday. [Y/N] mentally cringed at the thought. What were they thinking? This was the same guy who went up against their brother and banned them from S. They hated him. They were supposed to hate him. [Y/N] clicked their tongue, throwing Langa off the sense, wondering if he said anything wrong. A faint red hue decorated their cheeks. They turned their back on him, hugging themselves.

"Whatever. Whether you knew what was going on or not, doesn't matter. My board got destroyed and I can't go back to S. Everything happened..." [Y/N] whispered, arms slowly fell back to their sides as they watched the sun beginning to settle down for the rest of the day. "I've got nothing... I've got no one-"

"You got me." Langa butt in. The words made them do a double take on him. It caught them off guard. And Langa continued to surprise them. A determined glint in his eyes as he stepped closer. "Reki can build you a new board and we can all skate. Together. We can skate outside of S, anyway. It'll be fun!" Langa bounced a bit in his steps, smiling brightly. "We can hang out together. And if you don't have a job, you can work with Reki and me. You even move in wi-"

"Stop..."

"We can go to school togeth-"

"Stop it."

"You got us! So, you don't have to wor-"

"Shut up!"

Langa blinked, taken back by the sudden outburst from [Y/N]. He focused back on them, confused why they told him to quiet down. Their brows knitted down, hands clutched by their side. The sunset shoned behind them. The soft breeze brushed against their figure out. And if Langa squinted, he could had notice their faint blush reddened slightly. They looked cute. He wanted to see them blush again.

"Just... why are you doing this?" They asked, their eyes looking anywhere but Langa. They were shy. They found it unbelievable but it happened. They were shy.

Langa stared at them for a moment, making [Y/N] nervous.

"Because I like you."

Those words froze [Y/N] on the spot. Their eyes widen, lips parted slightly. The words ran through their mind like an echo. Langa's charmed smile implanted with it.

"And I want to be your friend."

Impossible.

"That's..." [Y/N]'s face was burning up. Cheeks redder they matched their eyes. "That's stupid." They blurted out quickly, taking a step back. Langa frowned a bit, not unexpecting that sort of answer to his confession. A confession they weren't sure if they were happy about or sadden by it.

"No one wants to be my friend. No one likes me... That's what they always told me." [Y/N] took another step back, brows knitted down but not in anger but in sorrow. Every step they took back, Langa takes one forward. "I'm unlovable... I don't... deserve it." The young former skater shook their head, as if snapping into reality. Tears welled up on their eyes. "You don't like me. You don't. You don't, you don't, you don't, you don't," They repeated quietly, hugging themselves as the tears rolled down their cheeks. Langa panicked. He didn't wanted to upset them. What they said made him wonder who told them such statements. They trembled and he didn't know what to do.

Except for one thing. And he hoped he don't get slap doing so.

Arms wrapped around their frame, a hand on their head as the other rest on their lower back. The hand stroke their head as the other ran their back in a circular form. Langa closed his eyes, hugging [Y/N] closed to him.

"Shh... shh... It's okay, [Y/N]..." He whispered. "Whoever told you those things, they... they don't know what they're talking about." Langa took a deep breath. "But I'm telling the truth. And you do deserve it." He pulled away a bit, cupping their face with his hands and made them looked at him. "I like you. I like you very much. And even though I want to be more, I do want to be your friend." Langa smiled genuinely, blue eyes staring into red ones. "So, please... let me be your friend."

[Y/N] stared at Langa, stunned in his embrace. The blush darkened as Langa continued. They couldn't believe it. Their heart pounded little by little with every word Langa spoke. The hands on their face felt nice. The comfort hug was something they never experienced. They only got hurt by the hands of those who dared say they loved them. But, for whatever reason, they trusted Langa's words.

"Please... don't hurt me..."

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bowieandqueen11 · 3 years

Text

Time For Reading / Dewey Denouement Imagine

Request: Dewey does deserve to be happy. I can imagine having the sweetest/domestic evenings with him after a long day at work. He seems like he would read to you while sitting together.

I love this man so much thank you for letting me imagine this <3

If you enjoy, please comment!! I may have stayed up writing this oops

Dewey Denouement may not be the kind of man to place his feet up at the end of the day, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t.

It was a cold night, the sort of chill blowing through the cracks in the library’s doors that made you thankful for the crackling fire by your feet. The embers flashed red, hot and heavy before leaving their smoky trail in the October air as they fell back down onto the kindling. You stared at them for a moment, dancing like a circus troupe in front of your vision. A trapeze artist there, some juggling pins in another corner of the pit, and finally, the fiery lion’s roar rises from the middle of the heap, before falling onto the floor in a pile of ash. You snuggle down, burrowing deeper into the suit jacket you had stolen off of Dewey’s shoulders this morning. He had never seen it coming, too busy pressing back against the kiss you had pressed against his lips when you had come in to deliver him his morning coffee. He had smiled against your lips as he pulled away, nuzzling his nose against yours with a twitch of his moustache as you massaged his shoulders, gently levering the jacket down before stealing it away.

You wished he would hurry back, missing him already despite the fact you had only just heard the final, surprisingly pained sounding whistle of the library’s kettle. Although you knew, since his parents perished in that fire you both blamed Olaf for before his fifth birthday, that he would keep his promise to try and spend some more time away with you, rather than his catalogue. He was trying his best, you knew that. He also made it clear how much he loved you, evident in all the old bookshelves that lined the library’s walls that he had filled with your wish list, numerous treasures and memories stuffed into every crevice and nook of this small home he made yours. He knew, and had tried to tell you time and time again, that this was no life for someone as precious as you, but you had refused to leave him to this fate alone.

So instead of one librarian, Hotel Denouement gained two.

You sigh, kicking off your shoes and placing them up onto the old leather chair. You turn your nose back to your book, letting your mind fall back into a similar world of adventure and wonderment. You had only got a few more pages in, the book old and heavy in your tired hands, before you could hear the familiar sound of Dewey’s warm, deep humming swirling through the air as if in a dream. Before you can even place your bookmark back into the worn, crumpled pages before you feel a warm breath of air beside the tip of your ear.

‘I’m sorry I took so long, Y/n. The tea took quite a while to brew, on account of the brewing time of the leaves and the fact... we need a new kettle.’

You grin, reaching over the top of the chair until you grab the collars of his dress shirt. Running a thumb over his maroon tie, you pull his smiling face down until he reaches his lips. When you finally let go of him, he presses a final kiss against your forehead, moving to place the two steaming cups of jasmine tea he carried within the ornate china cups with his fingertips down onto the wooden side table of the living area.

He glances over at you, a glowing, slightly goofy but completely enamoured smile playing on his lips as he takes his usual seat in his own matching leather chair, placed facing towards your own on the other side of the fire. You lift your feet up, the two of you set in a steady and comfortable routine. He wipes the creases off of the front of his trousers, before replacing them with your feet. You beam at him thankfully from over the cover of your leather bound novel, breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne, and the warm feel of his fingers as they dig into the muscle of his feet. He only raises an amused eyebrow at you.

‘Ah, an interesting choice tonight Y/n. A tale of smoke and mirrors, quite fitting, don’t you think?’

You hum, folding your arms down until you could see the fond look Dewey gave you over the rim of his cup. He takes a sip before continuing, glad to finally be able to have a relaxed conversation for the first time today, with all the time spent preparing for the arrival of the Sugar Bowl. ‘It’s been a while since you’ve read a book from the books labelled 818.’

‘I just thought’, you start, leaning further into his touch as he places his now empty cup back onto the table and leans towards you, giving his full attention. ‘Hopefully, we’ll be out of here soon, and we can start again. A real life, a new life for you Dewey, without all these books and secrets and shadows and betrayal. I just thought it would be fun to reminisce before we finally burn all these secrets down.’

Dewey’s silent for a moment, gazing so intensely at you that despite your best efforts, you feel a blush flooding your face. For a moment, you’re worried you’ve upset him, his eyes so thoughtful, heavy and forlorn as they stare unmoving into yours. Your worries sink quickly, though, when that familiar tick of his raises his moustache, and the twinkle returns to his eye - the familiar sign that he’s amused by your words.

‘Yes, we can finally end this terrible series of events once and for all. Then, there is nothing else I would like more than to never be apart from you again, except for when we are at work, of course, but even that might be too much of a struggle.’

‘I suppose, then’, you begin with a slight grin, ‘we shall just have to retire off to some splendid tropical island somewhere, and spend our days drinking from coconuts and growing apple trees instead of having our noses stuck in books.’

As the two of you sit there grinning, hearts fluttering in time in your chest at the look of absolute devotion that lines both your faces, he’s suddenly quick to react. Smiling deeply, he reaches over and knocks the book straight out of your hands and into his own. Ignoring your cries of protest, he shakes your outreaching hands off and instead intertwines your right one within the large, slender fingers of his right. The other hand busies itself scanning over the words, following the paragraphs down until he finds a place to start.

His words, since they are directed towards you, are so beautiful and elegant. There was no other way, he had learnt in all his books, to speak to a lover. To someone who held your heart so tightly in their hands he felt he might drown with the feel of it. There could never be anger, or malice, when speaking to someone who was more of him that he himself was. So he read on, honeyed words pouring from his tongue in the only outburst of love he had ever learnt to give. Each word earned him a welcome groan, and each welcome groan earned you a tug at his lips until he was beaming.

Letting the words flow over you, you gazed up at the old pane of glass that lay above your head. As the night dwindled on, the heaviness of the water’s shade began to cast darker lines across the walnut floor, each specked with a glaring dot of celeste blue. Turning your chin up, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel hopeful for the first in a longest time. Dewey didn’t stop, words gliding from his throat as he admired the way the writhing waves from the pool a world above fell upon your face in an almost otherworldly fashion.

When he was finally satisfied you had fallen asleep, he gently dropped your legs to the floor, one by one. Before heading out, he tucked the jacket he had let you steal earlier tighter around your shoulders, before pressing the most warm, intense and loving kiss he could muster against your cheek, eyes closed in bliss all the while.

He opened them again as he closed the door into the living quarters, leaving all his hopes and dreams locked inside. Instead, he stepped further into the navy shades of glooming water that seemed to envelope his frame.

It was time to prepare for the arrival of the Baudelaires.

#a series of unfortunate events #dewey denouement #dewey denouement fluff #dewey denouement x reader #asoue #asoue netflix #asoue imagine #a series of unfortunate events imagine

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 3

“Fred. How’s their acting like to you?” Jack asked in a low voice.

They were seated at the edge of the stalls. They could also see Bond from where they were, completely focused on the stage.

“I’m not an actor myself, so this is just my personal opinion — but I think they’re awfully good,” Fred replied.

Jack gazed at the stage with a serious look in his eyes.

“I think so too. I won’t discount the fact that their sets and props look a little homemade, maybe due to a lack of budget; but when it comes to acting, each one of them is highly skilled. I can tell that the performers are all deeply familiar with the intent of the script.”

They were no theatre professionals for sure, but they possessed an eye for the true essence of their art.

The creases near Jack's eyes deepened as he quietly groaned.

“And best of all is that lady.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Moran agreed. With Fred included, all of them were focused on the lone person on the stage.

As Jack had pointed out, Maya, the chairwoman, was the standout actress even among the highly-skilled members of her own company.

Although she only held the lead role in “The Little Match Girl”, and was relegated to supporting roles for the other stories, the delivery of her lines, the movements of her body and hands, and even the slight shifts in her gaze — each and every one of her actions was perfectly under her control. They had seen a glimpse of this when she’d stood before her fellow company members previously, but this person on stage was completely different from the one who'd spoken to them at the entrance.

Even accounting for the fact that she had written the script herself, this level of sophistication in acting was not one which could be achieved by some run-of-the-mill actress. Moreover, the lines and pauses in the script had been carefully crafted to make it easy for the audience to relate to the stories.

From then on, the three of them enjoyed the rest of the play in silence, marvelling at her exceptional talent. Eventually, the rehearsal came to an end.

“——That concludes our performance. Thank you very much for coming.”

After her closing words, the company lined up on stage, silently waiting for Bond’s comments. While there had not been any flashy moments during the performance, almost all of them had sweat on their foreheads. Each breath they took revealed the depth of their concentration.

“…………”

For a short while, Bond stared at the stage without saying a word. Growing uneasy at the silence, the company members lowered their gazes slightly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bond cleared his throat, and adjusted his posture. Seeing that, the company members straightened their backs.

“——If I were to summarise my thoughts, I think your acting has already reached a high standard. I’m sure all of you have put in much time and effort to achieve this.”

Their faces beamed at his compliment. But Bond would not allow them to be satisfied with that alone.

He rose from his seat.

“But that’s also why some bad habits have stood out to me. For example, the witch in ‘The Little Mermaid’: there were times when your movements were too exaggerated. I know that you wanted to emphasise her sinister nature, but the way you did so may turn off the audience.”

“Y-Yes……”

The actress who’d been singled out hung her head, perhaps out of shock. But Bond ignored this, and pointed to another woman.

“Now, you played the main character in ‘The Red Shoes’. I watched your steps after putting on the shoes — have you properly studied dance? It’s true that even some stage professionals may think that it’s alright to just mimic the real thing, but if you really want to make your performance more authentic, you must take the time to learn how to do it properly. Your audience will not be satisfied unless you show them a level of skill that will astonish even people in that profession.”

“Understood!” she responded with vigour.

“Next up is you: the way you project your voice——”

Then Bond singled out each of the performers in turn, highlighting in detail what they needed to work on. He only needed to watch their play once to spot areas for improvement at such a fine level of detail — his eye for the arts gave them all a sense of the former professional’s brilliance.

At last, Bond finished addressing every member of the company. But he then swept his gaze over the entire theatre.

“In addition…… this isn’t your fault at all, but your success today was only possible due to the small size of this theatre,” he said, with some distress. “If we were in a bigger venue, the hall would be wider and deeper to accommodate the larger audience. In other words, I’m afraid that with your current performance, your voices simply would not reach the entire audience.”

Maya paled.

“So, in order to accommodate the size of the venue……”

“Yes. The worst-case scenario would be that you have to rework the entire play. By the way, when is the opening night?”

“T—Two weeks later.”

The entire room was enveloped in silence. Even from where they were seated, Moran and the others felt the weight of their despair: all the hard work they had put in thus far, might just have amounted to nothing.

Even Bond, who had revealed this harsh reality, dropped his gaze and grimaced.

“Well, there are a fair number of productions that focus only on the stage, and do not account for the size of the audience, so you may not have to change——”

“——No, we’ll do it.”

Maya sharply interrupted his proposal.

“You’ve seen how I am; I’ve always been timid and hesitant…… but theatre is the one thing I will never compromise on. Especially now — this is a rare opportunity for us. For my fellow company members, for the people who’ve supported us this far, I want to show them something I’ve put every effort into making.”

“…………”

At her words, the rest of the company nodded in silence.

Even with the actual performance only two weeks away, Maya and her company had steeled their hearts and chosen to start again from scratch. That stubborn determination surprised Bond, and even Moran and the rest.

“U—Um…… Mr Bond, I actually have something I wish to discuss with you……”

Out of the blue, Maya’s voice had grown soft.

“U—Um, if it is alright with you, just for the next two weeks, could you sit in during our rehearsals? A—Ah, actually, just whenever you have the time would be fine……”

Bond chuckled.

Even after being told about all those problems, they refused to stand down, and even continued to ask for help. Their mental fortitude sparked hope in him, and he couldn’t help but let out a grin.

Bond shot the party in the stalls a questioning look. Moran looked to Jack and Fred in turn, before giving him a thumbs-up.

With that, the former flames of passion within Bond burned even hotter. He faced the company members with a determined grin.

“——Okay. But I will be especially tough on you all, so be prepared.”

Then, he called out to Fred.

“Fred-kun. I would like your help as well — is that alright with you?”

“Understood,” he replied, standing up.

“Bond, I’m always happy to teach knife-wielding.”

“And you can always ask me about gun handling.”

“Now that would be helpful,” Bond smiled at Jack and Moran’s jests, then turned back to the stage.

“Well then, everyone — for the next two weeks, let’s do our best together.”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“During a performance, you must be always be aware of three things: the audience, the other actors, and yourself. If the feeling of being ‘watched’ becomes too strong for you, first direct your attention within yourself. Then, you will be able to focus on your acting once again.”

“I don’t advocate the idea of getting into a role. In the end, acting is just a skill: what you should focus on instead is how you are moving.”

“Although an effective way of bringing out emotions is to dredge up your past memories, I would advise you to avoid that. Recent memories are too concrete and vivid — if you must do so, use memories from your distant past. And be careful: if you frequently immerse yourself in negative emotions, you will hurt yourself on a spiritual level too.”

In a small theatre in Whitechapel, Bond’s instructions came forth ceaselessly.

He stood on stage together with the company members: carefully reviewing their movements, even acting them out himself as an example on occasion, and putting in every effort to raise the level of their production.

The remaining two weeks were short, but with their foundations already strong to begin with, Maya and her company steadily honed their acting skills to perfection.

One week left until the show. His work as an instructor had finally ended for the day, and he let out a sigh as he sat in the stalls to catch his breath.

“Good work today — fancy a sip?”

Having watched the proceedings from the stalls, Moran handed him a bottle of water. It was a beer bottle — very Moran-like — and Bond accepted it with a smile.

“Thanks, Moran-kun.”

Bond gulped down a single mouthful of water.

“So, how’s the play going?”

“At first I thought we would be hard-pressed for time, but they truly exceeded my expectations. I think we might just make it. ……Scratch that, we will make it.”

Moran nodded.

“That’s right. And they seem to be well-liked by the residents around here. I really hope they can pull it off.”

As Moran gazed off into the distance, a thought just occurred to Bond. He cocked his head.

“Come to think of it, you really didn’t have to tag along with me all this time, you know?”

Ever since the day Bond had agreed to lend his support to the company, his other colleagues had stopped over from time to time to cheer him on. However, Moran had made it a point to come to the theatre every day without fail.

Moran scratched his cheek in embarrassment. 

“……Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do when there aren’t any missions. As a senior member of this organisation, I’m just here to see how my junior works.”

“Even though you’ve been skipping out on chores at the mansion?”

“D—Dammit, I told you before: I always do my share of the work, you know.”

Bond had said that half-jokingly, but his words flustered Moran nevertheless. It seemed he had not been entirely wrong about that.

Bond returned his gaze to the stage.

“……Thank you, Moran-kun,” he said quietly.

“Hmm? Didn’t you already say that earlier?”

“This one means something different,” he said, with a hint of mischief in his voice. Moran raised an eyebrow in bemusement, but the presence of a caring senior alone warmed Bond’s heart.

Just then, they heard the sound of the theatre doors opening.

As the two men turned to look, they saw a portly middle-aged man with a magnificent moustache standing at the entrance.

Maya hurriedly bowed in his direction. “T—Thank you so much for your help thus far! What brings you all the way here?”

From her formal manner, it seemed this was the very noble who had asked them to stage the opening act for his theatre.

“Ah, you’ve been working hard, I see,” he said as he stroked his moustache, a big smile on his face.

“Yes; with your assistance, we’ve been able to prepare for the performance in time. I’m sure the audience will be satisfied with——”

“Well, about that.”

The man interrupted Maya, still all smiles.

“——Your performance has been cancelled.”

“What?”

No one could believe their ears.

Her expression brimmed with confusion.

“U-Um, what do you mean……?”

“What does it mean? Just pretend our conversation back then didn’t happen. That’s all.”

The man made another simple pronouncement, then smiled as if nothing was wrong.

“Honestly, it’s just as well that this has happened, since I’ve also been troubled over your debut. So what I’m saying is, your company doesn’t have to turn up. That’s alright with you, isn’t it?”

The entire company was still in a state of shock. Then, Bond addressed the man directly.

“Now hold on just a moment. What do you mean, you were troubled? Then why did you ask them to perform? What’s more, isn’t it a little late to cancel the performance at this juncture?”

Hearing that, the man sighed in displeasure.

“Who are you, anyway? Someone connected to this company? I’m not happy to be asked so many questions at once.”

“Then I’ll summarise it for you. If you were going to cancel the performance so easily, why bother requesting Maya and her company to perform anyway?”

At Bond’s question, the nobleman shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, that’s simple. I just felt like it.”

“……What?”

Those shocking words froze him to the core.

“I’d heard about a reputable theatre company in the slums. Since there’s this notion of noblesse oblige anyway, I thought a performance would be a good topic for conversation and approached them. But then I grew to realise that the thought of poor people stepping onto the sacred stage of an official theatre just didn’t sit well with me. So yesterday, I finally decided to put an end to this madness.”

“How could you……”

He had asked Maya’s company to perform on a whim, and then cancelled their act on a selfish whim as well. And this was all decided just ‘yesterday’. Even though they had been putting in every effort into their play.

The nobleman continued.

“That’s all I had to say. You poor folk are living off the graces of the nobility, so be grateful that I even bothered to come all this way to talk to you. Now that I’m finished here, I’ll be leaving. The smell here is simply an assault on my senses.”

Right before he walked out, the man spat out one last line.

“Well, at least you all had a nice dream, didn’t you?”

“………!”

A violent rage surged within Bond. Somehow, he managed to grit his teeth and hold himself back. If he were to retaliate right now, he would be inviting unnecessary reprisal on Maya and her company rather than himself. So all he could do was look daggers at the nobleman’s back as he left.

The theatre was enveloped in a mournful silence. Everyone seemed to have lost their verve, and no one uttered a word. Bond was shaking with frustration.

Amidst the heavy atmosphere, just one man — Moran — gazed upon the situation with composure.

Finally, Maya, the chairwoman, mumbled in a thin voice.

“Um, I’m so sorry. I think, I’m not feeling too well……”

Then, with a hollow expression, she headed to the dressing room, her footsteps shaky.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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sweetaesuga · 4 years

Text

in your heart | heartbroken

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: angst, fluff, fratboy!jk, ex-fuckboy jk, bookworm reader, friends to lovers au

warnings: language, pinning, these mfs r in love but scared😔

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: jungkook tells you how he feels.

timeline: takes place before the events of in your eyes

a/n: BE IS COMINGGG!!! sorry for not updating lately <3

Jungkook was struck the second he saw you emerging from out of your apartment building. All swathed in a black dress with purple turtleneck underneath, Jungkook thought you were truly an angel that fell from heaven.

He can't stop himself from freaking out. He hasn't seen you over ever since his Taekwondo match you attended but that doesn't mean you never left his mind. In fact, you consumed his thoughts the entire week that he hasn't seen you. During that week, he managed to break it off with the girl he was seeing.

Of course, he had to deal with her crying and begging him to take her back. He reminded her that they were nothing to begin with. At first, Jungkook felt awkward for saying that but it was what they agreed on. She made it clear she did not want a relationship with him.

He just hoped everything with you would be fine.

You smiled and waved at him, sending Jungkook to become frenzy. He had a trouble time maintaining his eyes from going further down to your legs that were glowing and calling out his name.

He barely caught you when you flung yourself at him all of the sudden. His hands cupped your bottom to hold your weight up. Jungkook's cheeks grew red from what he has just done. He was quick to settle your feet back on the ground, looking anywhere but your eyes to avoid the embarrassment. "Shit, I'm really sorry about where my hands were. I swear I didn't mean to touch you there."

You laughed at him, ruffling his permed hair. "It's fine, I don't care. You're my friend which means you could touch it," you winked at him but he was too caught up over you calling him a friend. His heart stung at the mention. God, he just wanted to be more than friends.

He rushed immediately when you walked over to the car, opening your door. You shot him a look of confusion but he dismissed it. "Okay, you're acting weird," you laughed and watched him walk around to get to his side of the car. His hair bouncing as he walked happily. "What's the special treatment for?"

"Nothing," he shrugged with a grin on his face as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Can't be nice to you once in awhile?" Jungkook glanced over to you, almost swerving off the road when he was amazed with how pretty you looked once again. He had this instinct to pull over and kiss you right there and then.

"I mean, you treat me like shit most of the time together," you smiled at him jokingly. He shook his head, bouncing back and forth between you and the road. He merely wanted to admire you as much as he can.

"Not even. Say that to my fucking face next time when I pay for your food," Jungkook beamed when you sent him your middle finger. "That's what I thought," he muttered under his breath when you don't say anything else. In his peripheral vision, he caught you smiling like an idiot.

It was times like this where he was worried that him confessing could truly put a strain on your relationship. He didn't even know if you had any romantic feelings towards him. Jungkook was very sure certain about one thing though, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

Jungkook led you out of the car, right by your side the second you step foot out. A part of him wished you could've held hands making your way inside the restaurant but it wasn't something you two usually did. Also his hands were shaking and sweating, you would've been disgusted.

"This is really beautiful," he agreed with you somewhat, although he would say you were more captivating than the view of the ocean. "If you would have told me we were going here, I would've put a little more effort on my outfit. I didn't even go over the top with my makeup," you brought your face closer to his so he can inspect it, blinking so that he could notice how you went for a more natural look this time.

He smiled, pushing your nose back to put some distance between you two so he could get a grip of himself. "I know you didn't. You look cute no matter what you do to your appearance," he hid under his menu to cover his reddening cheeks. Unknown to him, you also did the same thing with warm cheeks too

The whole dinner was sweet. Mainly consisting of the two of you shoving your food down your throats quickly and joking loudly, annoying the other customers. There was a different look in his eyes that night. You don't know it but either way you don't dwell on it. He listened closely to your story about accidentally getting the second book to a series instead of the first. He assured you, he'll hunt down the book and buy it for you.

When Jungkook finished the last of his dinner, he quickly nudged you to the beach for a walk. You both leave a trail of footprints behind, a large and a much smaller footprint. His hands are sweaty. Your shoes that he offered to hold were slipping out of his grasp every second.

He wasn't listening to your story about the plushie squirrel you thought was adorable and added to your collection. He kept mumbling short answers to give you the idea that he was. That's when you finally caught on. "Alright, what's wrong?" you watched him freeze, although he was somewhat shaking in fear. "You've been acting weird lately."

"I haven't?" he shook his head before continuing to walk, leaving you behind. His steps are quick which forced you to run to catch up with him. "I'm just distracted that's all," his words are rushed as he comes up with an excuse. He wished that you would just drop it. He was backing out, he can't do it. He would not be able to handle your rejection. Perhaps you were truly better off as friends.

"Distracted about what?"

You.

There's nothing else in his mind besides you. He was just never going to reveal that. He ignored you when you asked again. Abruptly, Taehyung's words from another night where they both decided to have a drink, come back to him. He would regret this if he doesn't do it now. He had to take chances in life.

Jungkook sighed, turning towards you. The sun illuminated down on you as if you were some goddess, which in his eyes you were. His hands stuck into his pockets to hide the way they were twitching. You sensed that something was wrong when he gazed down. "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, go ahead," he blinked before stepping closer. His breathing was uneven, almost if he was afraid to tell you whatever he was going to tell you. "Take a deep breath, take your time." you reached forward to latch onto his hand.

His heart slowed down from your linked hands. Your thumb rubbed over his knuckles, soothing the smooth skin. Jungkook stared at you for one last time before he leaned in. You don't react at first, too shocked from your friend kissing you. He was on the verge of pulling away and leaving in embarrassment when you continued to stay still.

The second he felt you kissing back, he was overjoyed. His hands wrapped around your hair as you pulled him closer. To onlookers, it might've looked like a young couple making out and honestly, Jungkook wished exactly for that.

You nudged his chest back after what seemed forever to Jungkook but really was just seconds. Jungkook already had a big smile plastered on his face. With no more fears holding him back, he let it out. "I like you—more than a friend," his smile faltered slightly when he saw the confusion on your face.

"What?" you breathed out. Stepping away from him, you felt as if you were the one that couldn't breathe now. He tried to hold your hands but you backed away further. His eyes stung as he tried not cry. "I don't think you know what you're saying."

Jungkook shook his head. "I do know what I'm saying," he bit his lip to stop himself from quivering. "I'm really sorry. I just—I needed you to know that," his voice cracked. His entire frame was trembling. You don't comfort him in any way, merely showing discomfort towards his confession. "I'm an idiot," he sniffed and laughed at himself despite the teary doe eyes he gave you. "I thought we could've been more than friends—I don't know, I'm really sorry for thinking that," he stuttered over his words, playing with his fingers that were shaking furiously.

You wanted to tell him that you thought about that too. The thought of being more than friends. Then your dumb brain brought his past relationships and hookups to your attention. The self-doubt arose once again. Never being good enough for him, that was your biggest fear. A part of you wanted to ask about the girl he was with but either way you would've been hurt.

You coughed, watching your friend quiver. "I think I'm going to find my own way back home," he looked up to meet your eyes. The tears spilled down his cheeks more at the sight of you. Your heart hurts so does his. "I'll see you in class." you grabbed your shoes from him and walked away, leaving a heartbroken Jungkook behind. He doesn't miss how your shoulders shook or how you halted in your steps almost as if you wanted to turn back to him.

He didn't tell Taehyung what was wrong. He did not want to tell the story how he was rejected and he practically had a breakdown in front of you over it. Taehyung listened to his story, not making fun of him as he usually would if a girl would reject him.

He doesn't leave out any details. He cried to his best friend that he officially lost you. All because of his stupid confession. Taehyung disagreed however, you had some sort of feelings towards him.

"No, she doesn't. That was so embarrassing for me and probably her, she's not gonna want to do anything with me," Taehyung watched as he took a large gulp from the beer bottle. Jungkook's eyes are red and swollen from bawling them out ever since he got home. Taehyung found him on the couch, wrapped around a blanket you gifted him for Christmas.

"She does feel something towards you. Trust me, you would've been slapped in the face or something," he shuddered at the memory of the girl that had smacked him across the face. "Her reactions give off something, can't put my finger on it. It's like she's hesitate to go out with you." Taehyung snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Just don't give up on her."

And that's exactly what he does.

#bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook x y/n #bts drabble #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fiction #jungkook fiction

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

living after midnight

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke

Summary: Brooke and Montana get a bit intoxicated and get a bit carried away while going night swimming. Based off this post I made a week ago hehe

Words: 3.1k+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and also vague mentions of weed, stripping (no nudity tho LOL), lotssss of sexual tension, lots of fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, weird yearning angst for like .02 seconds lmao

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if this is random but I got random inspo for brotana so.. here this is lmao. Believe it or not I did try to make this under 1k words but.. I got carried away so I’m sorry that’s it’s long 😭. But the fic happens sometime after Brooke and Montana meet but before any camp redwood fuckery happens lmao. Anyway I hope y’all like this!! This is also probably the fastest I’ve ever written a fic so I hope it’s atleast decent haha. Anyway enjoy <3

A gentle breeze danced against Brookes exposed skin. The midnight air cold on its own regard but it seemed to blend perfectly with the extensive heat that radiated from the bonfire she sat in front of.

The night was entirely pitch black. The moon was vacant from the sky, leaving the only source of light to come from the giant fire that sat at Brookes shoes.

It was admittedly a bit unsettling being in almost the total darkness, especially with how many girls had recently gone missing in L.A as of late but the beer in her system had mostly put those thoughts to rest. Plus, being with three men and Montana was also reassuring. Even if she didn’t exactly know Xavier, Chet or Ray that well but.. she knew Montana.

It was nearly impossible to forget about how they met.. in the girls locker room in the showers and well; it’s not as if things were any less weird now. Showers or not.

It’s not as if Brooke and Montana were best friends or super close, because that definitely wasnt the case; but they weren’t acquaintances either by any means. The weird tension and ‘playfulness’ that lied between them ruled out being friends.. or that’s Brooke liked to think anyway when she had one too many things to drink. Like now.

Her legs twitched a bit restlessly; content at the ambience that surrounded her but not content with her current state of being. Like how she knew she should be enjoying herself, drunk, not caring about particularly anything at all but instead all she could do was fucking care. Her thoughts were purely infiltrated with Montana and it was embarrassing, to say the least but now that she was intoxicated there was really no harm in fighting it. No matter how annoying and taunting those thoughts truly were.

After all, Why should she not think about how nice it would be to feel Montana’s hands (which she knew had to be soft and delicate) on her waist and down her back? Why should she not think about Montana’s soft lips moving against her own, a few strands of her bleached hair (which definitely had lost it softness due to excessive over bleaching) brushing up against her face accidentally?

That was a rhetorical question; because she knew exactly why she avoided those type of thoughts on a normal day to day basis. Not because it would make things awkward between them but because it was beyond fucking painful to imagine scenarios that would never happen.. Never.

The smell of the fire and the sounds of the wood crackling, which was far too dry and poorly stacked (neither Xavier, Chet or Ray could build a proper fire to save their life), helped bring Brooke out of her thoughts and bit more into reality. So did the gentle sway of the tree branches which she could see in her peripheral vision, since they were right on the cusp of a forest that cut off to a beach. Ocean waves which slowly dragged across the sand were also soothing to listen too, albeit distant over the sound of Brookes friends screaming and laughing and being heavily intoxicated over what was more than just alcohol and weed.

Brooke reached down and swiftly grabbed the beer can which was previously lodged upright in the sand. Lifting the can up to her lips and cringing and unconsciously tensing up as she swallowed until the can was nearly weightless - wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just to see-

“Montana?!” Brooke nearly yelled. Both alcohol and temporary shock making her speak way louder than what was realistically needed.

Montana, who was previously standing several feet away with the boys was suddenly seated right next to Brooke on the log with no warning. Probably having moved over while Brooke was poorly chugging the alcohol she hated.. but she couldn’t help but to notice that their thighs (as well as basically their entire sides) were touching as she tried to wipe the alcohol that had embarrassingly dripped down her front in a frenzy.

Chet and Xavier looked back at them from a few feet away as they smoked what Brooke knew had to be a joint. Briefly laughing and giving the pair of women an amused glance before turning around and immersing themselves in whatever conversation they were previously having.

Brooke sheepishly met Montana’s gaze, feeling her cheeks grow nearly unbearably hot at the awareness that she was now being watched.. studied almost.

“Sorry,” Brooke added with a giggle.

Montana responded with a slight upturn of her lips; amused with Brookes actions not because she found it necessarily funny or pitiful, but for the sole reason that.. it was cute and endearing that Brooke couldn’t really hold her alcohol for shit.

It made her unique and different from everyone else Montana acquainted herself with. People that Montana had to basically learn to keep up with.. but Brooke on the other hand was different.. She was a breath of fresh air, and that’s why Montana assumed she was so attracted to her (besides her looks, of course).

Montana tried her best to ignore and not be bothered by the fact that Brooke was wasting perfectly good alcohol by wiping it off herself (alcohol that Montana wouldn’t necessarily mind licking off Brookes lips.. or her neck, or really anywhere else off of her). Instead focusing on how suffocated she felt here.

It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. After all; she loved Chet, Xavier and Ray dearly but.. they were also undoubtedly preventing anything from happening between her and Brooke.. and that needed to change.

Montana huffed. Her deep brown eyes quickly flickering at the flame and then Brooke before speaking.

“Im bored,” she announced. Suddenly standing up and not letting her eyes break the gaze she suddenly held with Brooke.

Brooke responded with a simple hum. Her jaw quickly dropping once she noticed that Montana’s bright red nails quickly darted down under her own shirt. Hooking the material under her fingertips before quickly raising the shirt up and over her head. Throwing it back somewhere behind the log Brooke still sat on.. somewhere where Brooke was almost certain Montana wouldn’t be able to locate later.. which was probably done on purpose.

Brookes jaw still stayed ajar when she saw Montana’s hands automatically fly down to the small jean shorts she was wearing. She could do nothing but watch as she saw the button unhook- wait.. what exactly was happening?

“Montana, what are you doing?” Brooke asked with a laugh.

Brooke tried her best to fight the urge to look at her friend who was now well.. in her bra and underwear, out of what she was trying to convince herself was respect, but it wasn’t working. She knew for a fact her cheeks had to burnt bright fucking red; she tried to laugh off the feeling but Montana still stared.. her smile slowly growing wider until sudden laughter momentarily broke the tension again.

Brooke and Montana both looked behind them just to find the boys laughing and whooping as well at Montana’s sudden lack of clothes.

Brooke smiled back at them but it only lasted a second before she found herself overtaken with a emotion she never really felt around Montana before.. was it jealousy?

Just the sight of them staring at Montana (who obviously didn’t give a fuck, or was thriving off the attention more than anything) was enough to make Brooke stand up.

“Go swimming with me?” Brooke suddenly proposed. More than certain that her sudden impulsivity was coming from the alcohol more than anything.. it had to be, right?

Brooke looked Montana in the eyes again as she watched the other woman’s expression suddenly change at her words; looking utterly shocked and.. maybe a bit thrilled.

“You want to go swimming?” Montana nearly sneered, her tone reeked off utter disbelief, “and what are you gonna wear?”

Brooke laughed at what the other woman was implying. Her dark brown eyes slipped down to admire the rest of Montana’s body that she dared not to look at previously. Only looking for a second at the matching cherry red set that Montana wore. A bra which was most definitely too tight and cut a bit small, along with a thong with sat a bit high on her hips which only accentuated her figure even further.

She didn’t have time to think; her eyes darting back up to meet Montana’s which she knew were watching her.

“I’m not going naked-“

“You don’t have too. It’s not like their gonna see us anyway once we get away from the fire. Here.”

They both spoke in hushed whispers. Weirdly paranoid that maybe the boys would overhear and wanna join which- was something they both clearly didn’t want, although unspoken.

The distance between them was minimal enough due to alcohol (and other substances in Montana’s case) running high in their systems. Making personal space something that was now nonexistent.

Montana extended her hand out to Brooke to take. She quickly grabbed her hand, hoping desperately it wasn’t sweaty from how close they were to the fire and also.. just from the situation she was bound to find herself in. But due to Montana’s reaction (or lack thereof) she knew she had nothing to worry about.. sweaty palms or not, she knew Montana wouldn’t judge her. No matter how insane the circumstance; Brooke always felt safe around Montana. That’s why she supposed she was currently following her into the pitch black - her vision getting more and more sparse as they walked away from the fire and into some nearby trees that framed the beach..

“Are you sure they can’t see me?” Brooke asked, trying her best to look through the trees and see if any of her friends happened to be looking but - she couldn’t really make out anything besides the subtle outline of her surroundings which included Montana.

“They can’t see you. Relax,” Montana said with a giggle. “Now do I need to help you undress? Your taking forever and I’m hot- and it’s not like I haven’t seen you wearing less-“

Brooke tried her best to look offended and shocked by her reference to how they met. She knew that normally with nothing in her system she would’ve easily sidestepped Montana’s ruthless flirting but.. something felt different about tonight. After all; why should she keep trying so hard to resist something they both felt? And it wasn’t like anyone could see them anyway..

Brooke quickly turned her head to where she knew Montana was and stepped closer until they were barely a foot apart. Her feet nearly stumbled on Montana’s from the proximity; biting her lip to prevent herself from stupidly giggling once she felt hot breath on her cheek.

She grabbed Montana’s hands which first held hers back limply but briefly held hers tighter before Brooke directed her hands on her shirt.

“Take it off,” Brooke uttered. Her voice barely audible but not quite loud enough to be discerned as a whisper.

Montana didn’t hesitate as she quickly took Brookes shirt off, barely feeling the soft fabric against her fingertips before she quickly threw it behind them into the forest. Montana didn’t wait for Brooke to say anything before her fingers were quickly undoing the button and the zipper of her jean shorts which were only thrown somewhere in the forest as well (hopefully near her shirt.. Brooke could only hope).

Brooke tried her best to not look bothered by her sudden lack of clothes but she also knew that was purely idiotic since they were in the pitch black.

Nevertheless she looked down at herself, trying to discern whether her figure was actually visible or not but Montana grabbed her hand again. Making her gaze snap upward as she led her out. She knew they were going out to the water now; the sand under her feet and the fire now visible from a distance as they continued to go out. The sand becoming more grainy and nearly painful to step on as they got closer to the water.

Brooke quickly looked over her shoulder before she took the first step in - still holding onto Montana’s hand. She quickly glanced to see if any of the men they had came with were watching but surely enough they were still talking and laughing as if they didn’t even notice they had gone missing.. and they probably hadn’t given how fucked up they were.

Perfect.

She continued to hold onto Montana’s hand as she went further and further into the water; not phased by the sudden coolness she felt as the water wrapped around her legs.. submerging her further and further until they both finally stopped. The water lapping around Brookes waist, and well, nearly Montana’s chest since she was a few inches shorter than Brooke.

The water seemed to be a perfect temperature despite them being at the ocean; and the rocks had since disappeared under their feet and changed back into soft sand which also made the current situation a bit more enjoyable.

Brooke tilted her head back a bit, worried momentarily that her hair might get wet but it was worth it. It was absolutely breathtaking.

The night sky which previously looked completely black and void of any light whatsoever was now painted with what looked to be a million stars.

“Do you see this?” Brooke asked.

“What, the stars?” Montana answered, her voice holding a bit of amusement to it and almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah,” Brooke affirmed with a nod. Still keeping her gaze fixated to the night sky.

“What about them?” Montana asked.

The water rippled a bit as Montana started to a take a few steps closer towards Brooke, dissatisfied at the distance between them.

“Nothing. I just- it’s beautiful. I never do things like this,” Brooke responded, tilting her head down to make eye contact with Montana as she finished her sentence.

Montana smirked.

“Never?” She asked with a laugh. “C'mon. I’m not wet enough, let’s go deeper.”

Before Brooke could protest, Montana grabbed both of her hands and pulled her deeper in the water.

“But I didn’t bring a towel!”

“Your not gonna need one. We can warm up by the fire, remember?”

They continued to keep wading until the water almost spilled over Montana’s shoulders. The water barely touching Brookes collarbones but getting some of her hair wet regardless.

She hesitantly let go of the other woman’s hand in the water, intent on using her hand to help her gain balance since a few rocks were still on the ocean ground but - the exact opposite happened.

Brooke didn’t even have time to gasp or scream before her left foot quickly slid on a random rock that just.. of course.. had to fucking be there. Her hands quickly landed on Montana’s shoulders; the rest of her body accidentally falling into the other woman’s but she only felt Montana’s hands suddenly grab gently at her back. Holding her in place against her body.

Brookes eyes instinctively closed shut but when she slowly opened them and reluctantly lifted her head higher up (silently cursing herself for accidentally getting her hair almost entirely wet now) she noticed.. how close they were to each other.

Her nose was only centimeters away from Montana's shoulder.. which meant-

“Are you okay?” Montana asked softly, speaking unintentionally right next to her ear which made a shiver run up Brookes spine.

“Mhm,” Brooke responded.

She rose her head up further - her vision fully black now due to closing her eyes so tightly and being disoriented from slipping, but she knew from hearing Montana’s voice that she had to be close. Very close.

Moving her head a bit to the left.. almost microscopically, not wanting whatever ‘this’ was to necessarily be clumsy but she knew she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Montana continued to whisper.

Brooke couldn’t help but to smile and let out a giggle that made her sound far more drunk than she actually was. She knew exactly where Montana’s lips were now due to her speaking. Thank god.

“You’ll see.”

Brooke leaned in slowly. Briefly bumping noses before catching Montana’s lips with her own. The feeling so heavenly and overdue - not enough but simultaneously far too much to take in all at once.

The taste of dull, gut wrenching beer started to flood her mouth. It was all that Montana basically tasted like.. that and a bit like smoke but Brooke didn’t mind. If anything it made the feelings of infatuation temporarily stronger. Brookes nails started to pierce the other woman’s back; wanting nothing more than to just have.. more. More of Montana; her taste, her hands, her touch.. the feeling was both pathetic but impossible to fight any longer.

The mere thought that this was something she was previously holding herself back from having was almost laughable but- that would be something to think about for another time.

Montana’s lips softly broke from hers.

“Eager.. aren’t you?” She teased.

Brookes eyes still refused to adjust but she knew Montana had to be grinning.

“Sorry.. I just-“

“Don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Montana said lowly.

Montana suddenly leaned in with no warning. Her hands softly grabbed Brookes shoulders; leaning in to pull her bottom lip with her teeth.

After she let go, the feeling to kiss her again was strong but.. she thought of something better. The thrill of the chase was something Brooke always enjoyed, after all.

Brooke took a few steps back suddenly before quickly heading for the shore. Not really going that fast at all due to the resistance of the water pushing up against her legs but she laughed regardless.

She could hear Montana laughing and calling her a jerk in the distance but it was all just noise at this point. Her voice, the water rushing, the fire and their friends (which grew gradually louder as she approached) all started to sound the same.

Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

Even though Brooke definitely felt tipsy, she still felt nervous the closer she got from being fully submerged out of the water. Maybe it was due to the fact she wasn’t certain what was going to happen at the fire, or if their friends had even heard anything but she knew atleast now she would have Montana. Exactly how she had Montana was something to be determined later, but as she finally stepped out and away from the nearly black ocean waves and ran up to the fire to go wait for Montana - she was comforted by the thought that things would now never be the same and forever would be different between the two of them.

Which had to be a good thing; right?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @waitinvain @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist hehe

#brooke x montana #brooke thompson x montana duke #brotana #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #my fic #will post to ao3 soon 😌#did I procrastinate my Andy fic to write this?? maybe lmao #I’m almost done w my Andy fic tho I swear 😭#i know I never talk about brotana so this is probably random asf but I just wanted to write something wlw 😌

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