#still feels unreal that anyone would do that but it's been very fun and challenging | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1kook · 4 years

Text

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jjk♡#jeon jungkook #mine

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soldierswar · 3 years

Text

Kobik - Chapter III

Bucky X Reader

Mostly angst for this chapter

Chapter 2:

Chapter summary: You're learning that the extent of Kobik's power is far more intricate than you could have ever imagined. And you quickly learn that you're going to have to get used to it a little longer than you would have expected.

...................................

“Does she eat?” you asked Bucky in hushed tones standing by the fridge while watching Kobik contently watching tv.

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“You could just ask her.”

You felt a mild shudder travel through you. Whatever reservations that you were feeling towards her earlier amplified times 100 after waking up to her cries last night.

When you had been woken up, by the time you reached the living room you walked into an entirely different room. But not nearly in the way that you had expected. There wasn’t a giant hole in a wall, there weren’t papers flying around the room, or any broken pieces of furniture.

No. It was an entirely different room. Or rather…science lab. When you had first seen it you thought you were dreaming. This had to be some type of nightmare or trance. But when you pinched yourself multiple times, it was clear that this wasn’t in some way, shape, or form unreal.

When Bucky finally followed you into the room, that was when you spotted Kobik crying in the corner looking helpless, and scared. And yet, Bucky was surprisingly if not eerily calm. He didn’t even look surprised.

He sat down in the corner with her rubbing her back and assuring her that she was safe and that it was just a nightmare. When she finally started to feel better, he convinced her to turn everything back to normal. And before your eyes, everything shapeshifted back into place. In fact, everything looked even more organized than before.

When she went back to sleep, Bucky explained to you that one of her powers included being able to shapeshift, and even create new surroundings. Her changing the living room into the place that she had grown up around was some kind of uncontrollable trauma response brought on by some nightmare flashback. Something that you were both familiar with.

That didn’t really deter how freaked out you were about it.

“Y/N she isn’t going to murder you if you just ask what kind of food she likes.”

He really had to say the M-word.

“Hey, Kobik!” he shouted looking you dead in the eye as he waited for her to come over in an inhumanely short period of time.

“Yeah?” she responded giving a beaming smile. It was infectious enough to make him smile fondly. Keyword, him.

“What do you usually like for breakfast?”

She paused and thought about it.

“Pizza!”

“Pizza?” Bucky questioned.

“Pepperoni.”

“Specific,” you muttered.

“How about cereal,” he suggested and pulled out a box of Coco Puffs.

Kobik shrugged and walked over to where the bowls were in the cabinets. When she realized that she was too short to reach them, she jumped from the floor onto the counter in one swift movement from surface to surface without even using her hands to climb up. Couldn’t she at least try to act like a normal child?

Bucky used the back of his hand to close your agape jaw. You might have thought about walking away again, but you were starving.

Bucky had suggested that you try to get used to her and that she was actually a really sweet kid. And here you were hoping that she wouldn’t be around for much longer for you to even need to get used to her.

But you decided that it was time to challenge your own stubbornness and at least try for your poor husband’s sake. At least a little bit.

You sat on the opposite side of the small table from her. You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning a hole through you somewhat afraid of what you might say or do. And you shot him a small facial expression that said,

“You have no faith in me.”

“Hey Kobik,” you started while grabbing the cereal box and pouring yourself a pile of Coco Puffs.

She seemed kind of surprised that you were talking to her. Part of you wanted to be offended…But her reaction was fair.

“Hm?” she replied with her mouth full of food.

“How old are you exactly?”

She thought about it, raising her eyes up to the ceiling. After a few seconds, she raised four fingers up.

You automatically thought about what Bucky said, and how strange her answer was. Bucky said that he had known her for at least a year and that she was that age already.

“Kobik, how long have you been that old?”

They thought about it again counting on her fingers. 2, 3, 4…And stopped, giving you the four fingers again. She had been like that for that long? Was she always going to be like this? Could she choose to get older if she wanted to? Or did she just like being the way that she was?

“Kobik’s happy the way she is right now, aren’t you kid?” Bucky added.

Kobik nodded and gave him a huge grin.

Suddenly Bucky’s phone began to ring. He looked down at his phone and stepped away into your office to answer. You knew this had to be serious.

“Do you like coloring books?” Kobik asked you, making you snap out of whatever thoughts you were having about this phone call.

“Hm?” you answered.

“Do you like coloring books?”

Her little voice was so chipper, and she was so happy asking you this question. Part of you started to feel a little bad about your aversion to her.

Almost.

Again, you were still incredibly freaked out about what happened not even 8 hours ago.

“We don’t have any here, but I think we can—”

Suddenly cupped her hands slightly and delicately and hovered them over the table and made two coloring books and a huge box of crayons appear out of thin air.

…You were just going to tell her to use the iPad.

Bucky wasn’t there to make you close your mouth again.

“You make that face a lot,” she pointed out.

You closed your mouth and then tilted your head.

“And that one.”

You tried your best to make your face neutral as she reached for a crayon and began coloring while using her other hand to continue to shovel cereal into her mouth.

“Y/N?” Bucky said softly signaling you to come over to talk in private.

You followed his direction and comfortably rested your back against the wall crossing your arms.

“You won’t believe what she just did,”

“I’m sure I can…Listen,” he began.

“I just got a call from Sam. They need me to come along.”

“Where? Back to Norway?”

He shook his head.

“Evidence is pointed to them having some base in Germany. I think it’s going to be a couple of days.”

You froze. By the look on his face, you knew what he was about to say.

“I need you to watch Kobik.”

You wanted to say no. You really really wanted to say no. But you knew that you couldn’t. But you still wouldn’t let yourself shut your mouth.

“What if something happens again?” you replied in very hushed tones. You had no idea how good her hearing was.

“Like last night…” Your heart skipped a nervous beat thinking about how reality almost completely bent before your eyes.

“Y/N…I know it freaked you out—”

“Freaked me out?” you shrieked.

“Bucky,” your continued hushing your tone again.

“Freaked out is a complete understatement. Did you not see what happened?”

“But she didn’t hurt you.”

You crossed your arms.

“And what makes you think that it can’t happen? We don’t have just me to think about now.”

“Y/N,” he said soothingly, softly resting his hands on your upper arms.

“She’s a kid. A kid who wants to feel safe. If she sees you as someone that she can feel comfortable around she’s one of the most lovable human-manifested sources of cosmic energy that you’ll ever meet.”

You snorted. This man could convince you to jump off a bridge by making you laugh and you’d still somewhat trust him.

“Okay,” you sighed and let him envelop you in his arms.

“She has never hurt anyone that doesn’t want to hurt her. You might even have a little fun. Do you trust me?”

You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest giving him a soft smile as you nodded.

“Okay.”

Note: Okay I can not thank everyone enough for all the love that this is getting. It makes me so happy that people are enjoying it since I'm so freaking attached to Kobik in the Thunderbolts comics. I love you guys <3

Note #2: I know, what a bitch, right?

Tags: @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae

@flightsandfantasy

#Bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #Winter soldier #Bucky Barnes #Reader #Kobik #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Thunderbolts #bucky x pregnant!reader #dad!bucky #Winter soldier x reader #bucky x female reader #sambucky

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felassan · 4 years

Text

Insights into DAI’s development from Blood, Sweat, and Pixels

The book is by game industry journalist Jason Schreier (it’s an interesting read and well-written, I recommend it). This is the cliff notes version of the DAI chapter. This info isn’t new as the book is from 2017 (I finally got around to buying it). Some insight into DAO, DA2 and cancelled DA projects is also given. Cut for length.

BW hoped that DA would become the LotR of video games. DAO’s development was “a hellish seven-year slog”

The DAI team are compared to a chaotic “pirate ship”, which is what they called themselves internally. “It’ll get where it needs to go, but it’s going to go all over the place. Sail over here. Drink some rum. Go over here. Do something else. That’s how Mark Darrah likes to run his team.” An alternative take from someone else who worked on the game: “It was compared to a pirate ship because it was chaotic and the loudest voice in the room usually set the direction. I think they smartly adopted the name and morphed it into something better.”

A game about the Inquisition and the large-scale political conflicts it solves across Thedas, where the PC was the Inquisitor, was originally the vision for ‘DA2′. Plans had to change when SW:TOR’s development kept stalling and slipping. Frustrated EA execs wanted a new product from BW to bolster quarterly sales targets, and decided that DA would have to fill the gap. BW agreed to deliver DA2 within 16 months. “Basically, DA2 exists to fill that hole. That was the inception. It was always intended to be a game made to fit in that”

BW wanted to call it DA: Exodus, but EA’s marketing execs insisted on DA2, no matter what that name implied

DAO’s scope (Origin stories, that amount of big areas, variables, reactivity) was just not doable in a year, even if everyone worked overtime. To solve this problem, BW shelved the Inquisition idea and made a risky call: DA2 would be set in one city over time, allowing locations to be recycled and months to be shaved off dev time. They also axed DAO features like customizing party members’ equipment. These were the best calls they were able to make on a tight line

Many at BW are still proud of DA2. Those that worked on it grew closer from all being in it together

In certain dark accounting corners of EA, despite fan response to DA2 and its lower sales compared to DAO, DA2 is considered a wild success

By summer 2011 BW decided to cancel DA2′s expansion Exalted March in favor of a totally new game. They needed to get away from the stigma of DA2, reboot the franchise and show they could make triple-A quality good games.

DAI was going to be the most ambitious game BW had ever made and had a lot to prove (that BW could return to form, that EA wasn’t crippling the studio, that BW could make an ‘open-world’ RPG with big environments). There was a bit of a tone around the industry that there were essentially 2 tiers of BW, the ME team and then everyone else, and the DA team had a scrappy desire to fight back against that

DAI was behind schedule early on due to unfamiliar new technology; the new engine Frostbite was very technically challenging and required more work than anyone had expected. Even before finishing DA2 BW were looking for a new engine for the next game. Eclipse was creaky, obsolete, not fully-featured, graphically lacking. The ME team used Unreal, which made inter-team collab difficult. “Our tech strategy was just a mess. Every time we’d start a new game, people would say, ‘Oh, we should just pick a new engine’.”

After meeting with an EA exec BW decided on Frostbite. Nobody had ever used it to make an RPG, but EA owned FB dev studio DICE, and the engine was powerful and had good graphic capabilities & visual effects. If BW started making all its games on FB, it could share tech with sister studios and borrow tools when they learned cool new tricks.

For a while they worked on a prototype called Blackfoot, to get a feel for FB and to make a free-to-play DA MP game. It fizzled as the team was too small, which doesn’t lend itself well to working with FB, and was cancelled

BW resurfaced the old Inquisition idea. What might a DA3 look like on FB? Their plan by 2012 was to make an open-world RPG heavily inspired by Skyrim that hit all the beats DA2 couldn’t. “My secret mission was to shock and awe the players with the massive amounts of content.” People complained there wasn’t enough in DA2. “At the end of DAI, I actually want people to go, ‘Oh god, not [another] level’.”

It was originally called Dragon Age 3: Inquisition

BW wanted to launch on next-gen consoles only but EA’s profit forecasters were caught up in the rise of iPad and iPhone gaming and were worried the next-gen consoles wouldn’t sell well. As a safeguard EA insist it also ship on current-gen. Most games at that time followed this strategy. Shipping on 5 platforms at once would be a first for BW

Ambitions were piling up. This was to be BW’s first 3D open-world game, and their first game on Frostbite, an engine that had never been used to make RPGs. It needed to be made in roughly two years, it needed to ship on 5 platforms, and, oh yeah, it needed to restore the reputation of a studio that had been beaten up pretty badly. “Basically we had to do new consoles, a new engine, new gameplay, build the hugest game that we’ve ever made, and build it to a higher standard than we ever did. With tools that don’t exist.”

FB didn’t have RPG stats, a visible PC, spells, save systems, a party of 4 people, the same kind of cutscenes etc and couldn’t create any of those things. BW had to create these on top of it. BW initially underestimated how much work this would be. BW were the FB guinea pigs. Early on in DAI’s development, even the most basic tasks were excruciating, and this impacted even fundamental aspects of game design and dev. When FB’s tools did function they were finicky and difficult. DICE’s team supported them but had limited resources and were 8 hours ahead. Since creating new content in FB was so difficult, trying to evaluate its quality became impossible. FB engine updates made things even more challenging. After every one, BW had to manually merge and test it; this was debilitating, and there were times when the build didn’t work for a month or was really unstable.

Meanwhile the art department were having a blast. FB was great for big beautiful environments. For months they made as much as possible, taking educated guesses when they didn’t know yet what the designers needed. “For a long time there was a joke on the project that we’d made a fantastic-looking screenshot generator, because you could walk around these levels with nothing to do. You could take great pictures.”

The concept of DAI as open-world was stymying the story/writers and gameplay/designers teams. What were players going to do in these big landscapes? How could BW ensure exploring remained fun after many hours? Their teams didn’t have time for system designers to envision, iterate and test a good “core gameplay loop” (quests, encounters, activities etc). FB wouldn’t allow it. Designers couldn’t test new ideas or answer questions because basic features were missing or didn’t exist yet.

EA’s CEO told BW they should have the ability to ride dragons and that this would make DAI sell 10 million copies. BW didn’t take this idea very seriously

BW had an abstract idea that the player would roam the world solving problems and building up power or influence they could use. But how would that look/work like in-game? This could have used refinement and testing but instead they decided to build some levels and hope they could figure it out as they went.

One day in late 2012, after a year of strained development on DAI, Mark Darrah asked Mike Laidlaw to go to lunch. “We’re walking out to his car,” Laidlaw said, “and I think he might have had a bit of a script in his head. [Darrah] said, ‘All right, I don’t actually know how to approach this, so I’m just going to say it. On a scale of one to apocalyptic... how upset would you be if I said [the player] could be, I dunno, a Qunari Inquisitor?’”

Laidlaw was baffled. They’d decided that the player could be only a human in DAI. Adding other playable races like Darrah was asking for would mean they’d need to quadruple their budget for animation, voice acting, and scripting.

“I went, ‘I think we could make that work’,” Laidlaw said, asking Darrah if he could have more budget for dialogue.

Darrah answered that if Laidlaw could make playable races happen, he couldn’t just have more dialogue. He could have an entire year of production.

Laidlaw was thrilled. “Fuck yeah, OK,” he recalled saying.

MD had actually already realized at this point it’d be impossible to finish DAI in 2013. They needed at least a year’s delay and adding the other playable races was part of a plan/planned pitch to secure this. He was in the process of putting together a pitch to EA: let BW delay the game, and in exchange it’d be bigger and better that anyone at EA had envisioned. These new marketing points included playable races, mounts and a new tactical camera. If EA wouldn’t let them delay, they would have had to cut things. Going into that BW were confident but nervous, especially in the wake of EA’s recent turmoil where they’d just parted ways with their CEO and had recruited a new board member while they hunted for a new one. They didn’t know how the new board member would react, and the delay would affect EA’s projections for that fiscal year. Maybe it was the convincing pitch, or the exec turmoil, or the specter of DA2, or maybe EA didn’t like being called “The Worst Company in America”. Winning that award 2 years in a row had had a tangible impact on the execs and led to feisty internal meetings on how to repair EA’s image. Whatever the reasons, EA greenlit the delay.

The PAX Crestwood demo was beautiful but almost entirely fake. By fall 2013, BW had implemented many of FB’s ‘parts’, but still didn’t know what kind of ‘car’ they were making. ML and team scripted the PAX demo by hand, entirely based on what BW thought would be in the game. The level & art assets were real but the gameplay wasn’t. “Part of what we had to do is go out early and try to be transparent because of DA2. And just say, ‘Look, here, it’s the game, it’s running live, it’s at PAX.’ Because we wanted to make that statement that we’re here for fans.”

DA2 hung on the team like a shadow. There was insecurity, uncertainty, they had trouble sticking to one vision. Which DA2 things were due to the short dev time and which were bad calls? What stuff should they reinvent? There were debates over combat (DAO-style vs DA2-style) and arguments over how to populate the wilderness.

In the months after that demo, BW cut much of what they’d shown in it. Even small features went through many permutations. DAI had no proper preproduction phase (important for testing and discarding things), so leads were stretched thin and had to make impulsive decisions.

By the end of 2013, DAI had 200+ people working on it, and dozens of additional outsourced artists in Russia and China. Coordinating all the work across various departments was challenging and a full-time job for several people. At this sheer scale of game dev, there are many complexities and inter-dependencies. Work finally became significantly less tedious and more doable when BW and DICE added more features to FB. Time was running out though, and another delay was a no.

The team spent many hours in November and December piecing together a “narrative playable” version of the game to be the holiday period’s game build for BW staff to test that year. Feedback on the demo was bad. There were big complaints on story, that it didn’t make sense and was illogical. Originally the PC became Inquisitor and sealed the breach in the prologue, which removed a sense of urgency. In response the writers embarked on Operation Sledgehammer (breaking a bone to set it right), radically revising the entire first act.

The other big piece of negative feedback was that battles weren’t fun. Daniel Kading, who had recently joined BW and brought with him a rigorous new method for testing combat in games, went to BW leadership with a proposal: give him authority to open his own little lab with the other designers and call up the entire team for mandatory play sessions for test purposes. They agreed and he used this experiment to get test feedback and specifically pinpoint where problems were. Morale took a turn for the better that week, DK’s team made several tweaks, and through these sessions feedback ratings went from 1.2 to 8.8 four weeks later.

Many on the team wished they didn’t have to ship for old consoles (clunky, less powerful). BW leadership decided not to add features to the next-gen versions that wouldn’t be possible on the older ones, so that both versions of the game played the same. This limited things and meant the team had to find creative solutions. “I probably should’ve tried harder to kill [the last-gen] version of the game”, said Aaryn Flynn. In the end the next-gen consoles sold very well and only 10% of DAI sales were on last-gen.

“A lot of what we do is well-intentioned fakery,” said Patrick Weekes, pointing to a late quest called “Here Lies The Abyss”. “When you assault the fortress, you have a big cut scene that has a lot of Inquisition soldiers and a lot of Grey Wardens on the walls. And then anyone paying attention or looking for it as you’re fighting through the fortress will go, ‘Wow, I’m only actually fighting three to four guys at a time.’ Because in order for that to work [on old gen], you couldn’t have too many different character types on screen.”

Parts of DAI were still way behind schedule because it was so big and complex, and because some tools hadn’t started functioning until late on. Some basic features weren’t able to be implemented til the last minute (they were 8 months from ship before they could get all party members in the squad. At one point PW was playtesting to check if Iron Bull’s banter was firing, and realized there was no way to even recruit IB) and some flaws couldn’t be identified til the last few months. Trying to determine flow and pacing was rough.

They couldn’t disappoint fans again. They needed to take the time to revise and polish every aspect of DAI. “I think DAI is a direct response to DA2,” said Cameron Lee. “DAI was bigger than it needed to be. It had everything but the kitchen sink in it, to the point that we went too far... I think that having to deal with DA2 and the negative feedback we got on some parts of that was driving the team to want to put everything in and try to address every little problem or perceived problem.”

At this point they had 2 options: settle for an incomplete game, which would disappoint fans especially post-DA2, or crunch. They opted to crunch. It was the worst period of extended overtime in DAI’s development yet and was really rough: late nights, weekends, lost family time, 12-14 hour days, stress, mental health impacts.

During 2014′s crunch, they finally finished off features they wished they’d nailed down in year 1. They completed the Power (influence) system and added side quests, hidden treasures and puzzles. Things that weren’t working like destructible environments were promptly removed. The writers rewrote the prologue at least 6 times, but didn’t have enough time to pay such attention to the ending. Just a few months before launch pivotal features like jumping were added.

By summer BW had bumped back release by another 6 weeks for polish. DAI had about 99,000 bugs in it (qualitative and quantitative; things like “I was bored here” are a bug). “The number of bugs on an open-world game, I’ve never seen anything like it. But they’re all so easy to fix, so keep filing these bugs and we’ll keep fixing them.” For BW it was harder to discover them, and the QA team had to do creative experimentation and spend endless late nights testing things. PW would take builds home to let their 9 year old son play around. Their son was obsessed with mounting and dismounting the horse and accidentally discovered a bug where if you dismounted in the wrong place, all your companions’ gear would vanish. “It was because my son liked the horse so much more than anyone else ever had or will ever like the horse.”

MD had a knack for prioritizing which bugs should be fixed, like the one where you could get to inaccessible areas by jumping on Varric’s head. “Muscle memory is incredibly influential at this point. Through the hellfire which is game development, we’re forged into a unit, in that we know what everyone’s thinking and we understand everyone’s expectations.”

At launch they still didn’t have all their tools working, they only had their tools working enough.

DAI became the best-selling DA game, beating EA’s sales expectations in just a few weeks. If you look closely you can see the lingering remnants of its chaotic development, like the “garbage quests” in the Hinterlands. Some players didn’t realize they could leave the area and others got caught in a “weird, compulsive gratification loop”. Internet commentators rushed to blame “those damn lazy devs” but really, these were the natural consequences of DAI’s struggles. Maybe things would have been different if they’d miraculously received another year of dev time, or if they’d had years before starting development to build FB’s tools first.

“The challenge of the Hinterlands and what it represented to the opening 10 hours of DAI is exactly the struggle of learning to build open-world gameplay and mechanisms when you are a linear narrative story studio,” said Aaryn Flynn.

“DA2 was the product of a remarkable time-line challenge,” said Mike Laidlaw, “DAI was the product of a remarkable technical challenge. But it had enough time to cook, and as a result it was a much better game.”

Read the chapter for full details of course!

#dragon age #bioware #video games #SW:TOR #mass effect #I've seen plenty of this info discussed in articles/thinkpieces and on online communities over the years #but it's nice to read it first hand #some very insightful stuff here #these behind the scenes looks are very valuble #a lot of DAI's elements make sense given the context and what was going on in the background and the tech challenges they faced etc #be kind and respectful to devs folks they're human beings #also in general this book is really interesting and easy to read #funny in places too #it has lots of other chapters on lots of other games including Stardew Valley #I def recc buying it #anyway hope this post is useful/interesting to someone!#oh and as always support good treatment of game devs #crunch culture in the industry is harmful and exploitative

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poguesgold · 3 years

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how did you feel about season? i know most people liked it better than season 1 but i’m not sure how i feel yet🤔 might need to rewatch it

okay this ended up soooo long so i'm giving a tl;dr review here and if anyone cares to read my insanely long thought dump you can feel free. this part is spoiler free also!!

cons: i think they should have further developed the s1 storyline rather than conjuring up an entirely new treasure and conflict; i don't think they did the characters justice a lot of the time, particularly kie and jj; too much yelling and running not enough hanging out; the finale cliff hanger was a stupid writing choice

pros: cleo!!; pope-centric plotline!!!; amazing jjpope moments in the improv sequences; never a boring moment; rafebarry oh my god????; neck kiss shirtless wrestling holding hands standing unnecessarily close jjpope rot; just a straight up nine hour long adrenaline rush and i love that shit.

overall: i definitely did not like it more than s1, but i still REALLY loved it. i think it's worth the watch, just don't go into it expecting good writing or realistic injuries or a comprehensive plot LMFAO. what saves the season is the pogues' chemistry and their improv sequences, for real. and cleo. you WILL get angry about the shitty script and characterization if you’re really invested in that part of things, but as far as vibes and dopamine high it was awesome. it was a fun watch and i'll definitely rewatch at least once to soak it in properly

please this is going to be soooo long i apologize in advance. but i have a lot of thoughts. also ⚠️⚠️spoilers ahead!!⚠️⚠️

most of this review is going to be criticisms tbh so sorry for that but this show kinda sucks (affectionately<3)

i thought season 2 was an absolute TRAINWRECK as far as writing goes. jonas pate was basically like. this season we're going to have an even BIGGER and BETTER treasure!!! but the exact same thing is going to happen. like. we already had gold. and that's what they were going to the bahamas for at the end of season 1 for anyway????? it would have been so easy to just develop the original storyline further, i just cannot figure out why they would completely abandon it for another mediocre storyline. (i LOVED that this other mediocre storyline was pope-centric and the main character energy he was given this season. but. they. could have done that?? with the first storyline?????)

i hate that they brought big john back so so much. SO much. literally it was the stupidest most idiotic lazy cheesy plot choice in the world. it doesn't make sense, we like saw his literal bones at one point like his lifeless corpse, and WHY would they bring back a key character from the PREVIOUS ARC when they created an ENTIRELY NEW CONFLICT AND PLOTLINE FOR THIS SEASON???? jonas pate stuck it in for shock value and cliff hanger in hopes of securing a season 3, and i hate him for it. he's such a terrible writer white men have it so easy

someone in the neck kiss truthers discord earlier pointed out that jb's dead father returning after like a year and a half of thinking he was dead would probably be more traumatic that healing at this point, and i agree so much. also, you know that they're not going to use it for good either way. they're going to use his dad coming back as a way to further traumatize him somehow because obx writers are jombeephobic. and i wouldn't put it past them to bring him back just to kill him off again. jonas pate wants to write john b torture porn and i am TIRED of it

my least favorite thing about season 2 was the characterization. they really did just disregard the characters they created in season 1. kie was completely ooc for like three episodes, and it wasn't because she was mourning. it was just shitty writing. she had no character outside of her relationships this season, which has been my fear from the very beginning and why i have never wanted kie with any of the pogues. season 2 diminished her character to the female love interest, and that just sucked so bad for her.

whether you're a jjpope or not, season 2 completely changed their friendship dynamic. the only time we got glimpses of the season 1 jjpope dynamic was in the improv sequences when rudy and jd took it upon themselves. also during their hugs LMFAO. which is also an acting choice. the writing completely disregarded their friendship and dynamic. it was weird as fuck it was all weird. i also hated that kie and sarah's scripted interactions were just them talking about boys. another case of friendships again being completely disregarded for the cishet relationships.

i just really feel like all of the characters were handled poorly this season, which is crazy because literally ALL we asked for was backstory and character development and pogue screentime. but jonas pate instead decided to write ten episodes of nonstop running and yelling and fuckinf adrenaline, with an ooc script. for funsies

i feel like the magic of season 1 was lost. the vibe of season 1 that makes it so comforting and rewatchable and lovely is sort of just lost in all the silly plot. we see snatches of it here and there, but they feel crammed between unnecessary action scenes and stunts and shouting when we would have been happy with ten episodes of the pogues hanging out in each other's bedrooms.

NOW IM GOING TO TALK THINGS I LIKED OKAY OKAY

i seriously DID love watching it. we pulled an all nighter in the neck truthers discord and binged the entire season and the adrenaline of that kept me going for the rest of the week. it was literally fucking insane absolutely batshit and i LOVED it. the writing was horrible but like. it's obx we know it isn't good LMFAOO. it's part of the charm

i definitely don't like it more than s1, but i did still like it a lot. i LOVED how pope centric it was, like he fr had such main character energy this season and it was wonderful. even though the storyline was weird and didn't make sense jd did so well lolol he did so wonderfully. i loved seeing pope get the attention he deserves this season.

JJPOPE MOMENTS. i was definitely sad they didn't have an arc to themselves like they did season 1, but oh my god jd and rudy FED US with jjpope improv moments this season. the NECK KISS? the WRESTLING? every single one of their hugs?????? they're insane. it sucked that they really didn't have any scenes alone but we take what we can get.

SPEAKING OF GAYS LET'S TALK ABOUT RAFEBARRY. because?? oh my god??? first season it was like a crack ship and then season 2 came out and... what are we supposed to do ignore it? they are literally??? gay????? it's jarring they're insane. i am so so invested in them it's kind of unreal how deep i got into this ship in such a short amount of time (follow @rafebarry babies <33)

cleo. i love cleo. the best new thing to come out of this season for sure. clarah is coming strong i can feel it and i am SO ready. i know that they're most likely going to move toward a cleopope romance next season, which i don't hate? i'm bothered only because a) it's obvious it's mostly being done to get pope out of the way for jiara, and b) i think people often push two dark-skinned characters into a ship just because they're both dark-skinned, and that yucks me out. but i will say i really liked their moments together in s2 and i think they could be really good together if they're canon s3 (which they probably will be.)

overall like. it was a fun watch. i retained like 2% of the plot i was just there for the vibes and dopamine high and that was totally fine. i want to take the pogues out of jonas pate’s greedy little white man fingers and give them the character and relationship development they deserve, but we can’t have it all i guess. the cinematography this season i think i liked better than season 1, wasn’t a huge fan of that weird yellow filter tho. also the lighting. obx lighting guys get demoted challenge. umm yeah season 1 supremacy but season 2 had amazing vibes

#jesus clearly i haven't talked about this enough yet #send in other asks if you want i'm absolutely insane #sorry if there's typos i am not reading through this again #if i'm incoherent you'll just have to deal #asks #s2 asks

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kachulein · 3 years

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✧･ﾟ:*Fave Groups Tag!✧･ﾟ:*

I thought it would be cool to make a tag in which we all share something unique that connects us to our favourite group(s) that we don't (or not yet) have with another/other groups. Idk how to explain it but I promise it will make more sense after reading my examples. :')

Okay so, I decided to use Ateez, Enhypen, Stray Kids, The Boyz and TXT for this tag.

Ateez: A unique thing that connects me with Ateez is that I've been to a concert of theirs before. It was my first (and so far only) Kpop concert I've ever been to, and I've also had VIP tickets, so I could meet them during the Hi-Touch event. It's just so crazy to look back on it and realize I've actually experienced that and I actually go to meet the members. It still feels unreal, especially when I watch them through the screen nowadays and see how far they've come and how much they've grown. It was truly unforgettable and I still have a really cute memory with San and an intense one with Wooyoung lmaooo!! :') 💗

Enhypen: They're not the only group that I knew of before they debuted (I also knew about TXT and Stray Kids predebut, I can't remember for Ateez but I know that it wasn't the case for The Boyz, I only found out about them when "Boy" dropped) but what's unique with Enha is, that I've "created content" for them predebut and I've never ever done that for another group before. It was back in October(?) of last year, that I got an ask on @dreamyaqua to do a chart analysis for Heeseung and I was like "oh, I actually don't follow Enhypen and I haven't watched I-Land" but decided to give it a shot anyway. I thought it would be interesting to see if my astrology knowledge was good enough already to analyse someone I'm completely unfamiliar with and so I took that as a challenge. The responses I got from this post were so so sweet and definitely gave me a confidence boost! And also, I would've never thought that half a year later, my bestie would get me into Enhypen and that I'd count them to my fave groups now.😂💗

Stray Kids: Okay so, I don't think I've ever done either of these two things for another group so far... I haven't been a "proper stan" until July/August 2018 but back when Hellevator dropped, I got this song recommended to me on youtube and I loved it so much that I've kept up with SKZ's music as much as I've never kept up with the music of a group I don't stan. And also, there was once a time in which I stayed up until 6am, just so I could watch Stray Kids live on After School Club together with my friend. We were both so hyper due to a lack of sleep and it was just such a fun and memorable experience.💗 And a third thing is that I actually bought some of SKZ's Japanese releases which I've never bought from another group so far.🤔

The Boyz: Well...this is actually less of an experience with the whole group and rather just an experience with Kevin. In March of last year Kevin went live on the V app and I was watching his live (duh) and when he was answering some questions, I also wrote a comment and asked him something AND HE SAW IT AND REPLIED and I freaked out because that's never happened to me before. So yeah, that was one of those moments that made me incredibly happy and I'll never ever forget it.🤧💗 There's actually a second unique thing I could mention here but this is one that makes me incredibly sad lmao. So lo and behold, The Boyz is the only fave group of mine I don't own any albums of yet??? And I'm very adamant on changing that. But I tend to want to always buy a group's whole discography and since I don't have the money for all of that, I've shied away from ordering albums for them for the past year. Why am I like this- 🤚🏻😭

TXT: This is less of an actual experience... but, in my 5.5 years of being into Kpop, I've only once bought a Season's Greetings so far, and it was TXT's Season's Greetings for 2021💗 (I've just changed the calendar from September to October and that's what gave me the idea for this tag). A second unique thing is that for the first (and so far only) time, I entered a fansign raffle, it was for TXT. I wasn't selected which was to expect since I only bought 3 albums (all 3 versions of the Blue Hour album) but it's fine^^ (I might try again but this time with Enhypen, since I've already preordered the Dimension: Dilemma set from weverse shop,,, but I'm scared lmao). A third thing I could mention here is that I actually have a weverse magazine for TXT with an interview with each member in it! It's beautiful, the pictures are ethereal, and I will definitely use it to improve my Korean!! (ง'̀-'́)ง💗

of course, you don't have to do this if you think this is a dumb idea assfghdkdkl but I'm tagging: @marculees @interstellix @http-peachie @oddlittlefandomist @gyudenial and anyone else who'd like to do it~🥺💗

#tag #kpop tag #fave groups tag #enhypen #stray kids #ateez #the boyz #tomorrow x together

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years

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the 1 - V (Jihyun Kim)

So I haven’t actually done V’s route (I have done the secret endings though) and I haven’t been spoiled much for it either so get ready for your character to be very unaware of what’s happening. Vague spoilers for like stuff about Rika?

Summary: you and V had been pretty close in high school, but you haven’t seen him since he got with Rika. You meet up with him a year after Rika passes, promising to help heal his wounds.

You had known Jihyun, V as he goes by now, since elementary school; he was your first-grade crush. The two of you started to become close when you were in the same classes in high school; a friend group had formed that included the two of you.

Jihyun was the kind of guy you wanted to take home to your parents. He was always polite (he never swore, even when he did poorly on a test or your friends did), extremely smart, and he spent a lot of his free weekends going to church and volunteering. Somehow nobody realized just how much of a catch he was. You set up a few of your friends with him; much to your dismay, it never worked out.

You had never even considered dating him. In retrospect, you had a very unusual relationship. When you’d volunteer together, you’d often go on impromptu trips to get lunch together or maybe ice cream. When the friend group bailed on plans you still went over his house to hang out with him; your parents had gone to school with his so they were particularly fond of you. Maybe from an outside perspective it looked like you two were dating, or “talking” at least, but you had never considered it that way. It was ironic to you looking back that you had set him up with every eligible person you knew back in high school that met the high standards you set for him... except yourself.

Not that it mattered. Because then he met Rika and started spending most of his time with her. They’d volunteer together; he’d drive her home. The days of getting ice cream were long gone. He’d still hang out with you though! Group hangouts were fewer and farther in between, and he even brought Rika to one of them, but you still enjoyed playing games with him during game night and seeing his family again.

You didn’t dislike Rika, no. He seemed to be happy with her. Admittedly, you were kicking yourself that you didn’t set him up with her in the first place; but honestly you had never considered Rika. You had only seen her a few times at volunteering events before her and Jihyun started seeing each other. She seemed nice enough, but more outgoing than anyone you had set him up with in the past.

As you got older, it was more difficult to keep in touch. What used to be messaging each other every other day became random late-night conversations once every three months or so or random snapchat messages. And then Rika died. For a while he stopped replying altogether. After six months he finally let you back into his life; you made small talk. You’d talk about the sky or the newest photo of his that was auctioned off for a fortune and how you had never expected him to take that route. Heck, he planned on going to college to major in mathematics. You still didn’t message often, but you made sure to bring back the late-night conversations. This time once a month to check in on him.

Then eventually he invited you to lunch. You hadn’t seen him in years. You looked so different from your past self; how had he changed? Remember, you scolded yourself, he’s lost the love of his life. The conversation might be... challenging.

You tried not to dress too nice, you wanted to be casual and look as though you weren’t trying as hard as you were. You planned to meet at one of the lunch spots you used to go to, opting to sit outside. You were surprised when you saw him with a cane, though, standing up to greet you.

“Jihyun! It’s been too long,” you smiled, taking your seat across from him. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

He stared at you, assumedly taking you in, although you couldn’t tell behind his sunglasses. “You’ve changed your hairstyle. Altogether still the same though,” he grinned.

“What’s the cane for, if you don’t mind me asking? Did you hurt your leg or something?” But then why didn’t he use it when he stood to greet you? Maybe it was just when he walked. It was odd to see him with such a thing.

“Oh! Ah-“ he toyed with the cane, “I had an accident a while back.”

“Oh no! I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard. Are you alright? Like, you’re recovering, right?” After everything that happened with Rika, he hadn’t deserved this.

“Uhm, something like that. Can we talk about something else?” He whispered, his cheeks flushing at the attention brought to his injury.

You agreed and changed the subject, focusing on a good memory. Asking about if he remembered when you had that one elaborate Christmas party. You were over the moon with meeting Jumin Han, but Jihyun wasn’t phased at all. It was just so unreal for you that you had to make sure it even actually happened.

“Oh that happened. Jumin and I are still good friends. We work in the RFA together,” he smiled, thinking fondly of his friend.

“RFA...?” You asked. You felt out of the loop.

“Oh! Rika set it up,” he paused for a minute, likely composing himself, “we planned parties to raise money for different organizations.”

“I’m sure it was lovely.” You didn’t really know how to handle Rika talk. It made you feel... weird.

He must have sensed so, because he went back to the topic at hand. “Yes, but, I remember it was so funny because you were so flustered by Jumin. I kinda thought you had a thing for him.”

“Agh, no!” You laughed. “He was definitely not my type.”

“He seemed to be-“

“He wasn’t, Jihyun.” The two of you were laughing at this point, getting strange looks from people at the other tables.

“Do you want to hang out at my apartment? We’re causing quite a scene. You don’t have to if you don’t want to!” You added, not wanting to peer pressure him in any sort of way.

“Sure, that sounds nice. But... before we go, I have something I need to tell you,” he paused. You could tell by his face he was clouded by his thoughts. “You’re gonna find out anyway.” He said, seeming to rationalize the decision to himself.

“I’m losing my vision. That’s why I have the cane. I can’t drive anymore or anything like that.”

It made more sense now. He had seemed a bit different. “Okay,” you said cautiously. “Well I’ll just drive you then.” You wanted to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. You were sure he was self-conscious of it.

The two of you stood to leave, and poor Jihyun crashed into the doorway. You gently took his arm in your own to help him lead the way. This felt so natural, walking arm and arm down the street. There was nothing you could do about your relationship with him; it was selfish for even fantasizing these things after what happened to Rika. But you didn’t want to stop thinking about it. It would never work in real life, but it played out well in your head.

The drive was silent for a while until you could no longer hold your tongue, asking the question you had been dying to get out. “Can you get it fixed? Your eyesight I mean.”

“I could but... I don’t know.” He stared out the window. “I wonder if I was meant to live like this.”

“Why would you think that? It was an accident, Jihyun. Not a divine act. An accident. Unintentional. You should fix it. What about your photography? You’re so talented and your photos help so many people.”

“You have a point. I’ve been taking lots of photos before I lose my sight entirely, so I should have a surplus to go off of for a few years,” he explained, his voice careful as always.

“But why do you want to coast? You’ve always been a perfectionist; working hard to have perfect grades, a perfect relationship with your family, volunteering. Why are you settling now?”

“Because it wasn’t an accident,” his voice raised. “Not really. I deserve it.”

You parked your car at the apartment, silently getting out and grabbing his door for him, taking his arm to help him up the stairs. Neither of you talked as you let his words fill the air and cloud your thoughts.

Finally, once you let the both of you into the apartment and shut the door, you spoke. “I’d like to know what happened.”

“I...” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Rika...”

You pulled him into a hug. When was the last time you hugged? Probably not since your graduation ceremony. It was familiar. Him. His cologne. That had never changed. You felt comforted. He dropped his cane and wrapped his arms around you too, dropping his head to your shoulder. “You don’t need to say anything more,” you reassured him. He sighed, melting into your embrace. You hadn’t realized you were crying.

There was something off about her. It wasn’t fair. If you had made a move before he started spending time with her... no. You wouldn’t let yourself think about the what if’s. He needed you here. Now.

“Have you ever thought about... maybe if one thing had been different...” he whispered. You could feel tears slowly saturating your sleeve. You nodded.

“Always. But I’m here now. Let’s think about now. You don’t have to fix your eyes. You don’t have to love me or kiss me or anything. Just let me be here for you Jihyun. Please. I know you’re hurting and it’s been how long? A year now? And you’ve been hurting alone. Please let me help you.”

He squeezed you tighter. He didn’t have to say anything. His actions told you everything.

“I can’t take on your pain. But maybe I can help you face it. Just let me in,” your voice waivered. You were begging him.

Maybe he wasn’t the one. Maybe you had missed your chance with him. It had been fun to fantasize, but he needed you now. No relationship, no false pretenses, just you... here for him. And you would do everything in your power to help.

#mystic messenger #mysme #v #jihyun kim #folklore

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constitutionalweasleymonarchy · 3 years

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for the writing meta ask- 3, 10, 20 would all be great to hear about! thanks (:

Hello, I’m a completely terrible person because you definitely sent me this ask about two months ago.

Part of the reason I put it off so long was #3: What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? The question then cheekily goes on to say “consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway,” so of course, what did I do? Sat around trying to figure out a way to write the thing I can’t be arsed to write, and then when I still didn’t do it, sat around feeling annoyed about it.

Anyway, I wondered a bit about what scene that really is for me, and honestly I think it has to be Ron proposing to Hermione, because I have these really clear little snippets in my mind of basically everything having gone wrong with whatever Ron had planned, and after that all falls to shit, Hermione learns what was supposed to have happened either through a comment Ron or someone else makes, and she basically confronts him, “Did you have something to ask me?” *staring eyes* and when after all this Ron unceremoniously gives her the little box (because he had a good plan but it all went to hell), she looks at the ring and then hands it back and sort of dazedly or excitedly implores him to “Do it properly” (because yes, I like the one knee thing, and I’m convinced Hermione would as well, though she probably acts like she thinks it’s a silly thing). And he does because of course he does.

So there you have it -- I love a good proposal but can’t currently be arsed to do any of the work surrounding this one. I actually did a Romione proposal short story wayyyyy back in the day (like 2009) where I did some version of this scene. It was just objectively bad (not because of the scene, just overall bad) and I took it down and it will never again see the light of day.

#10: How would you describe your writing process?

Long periods of drought where I don’t write anything for weeks or months except for a few measly sentences here and there, either because of being busy with RL (how rude, apparently people expect me to work and do laundry and stuff) or because things just aren’t coming together the right way on the page. It doesn’t help that I definitely edit as I go -- it’s a habit I’ve never been able to break; I can’t bring myself to do word sprints and go back and clean it up later.

Anyway, long, agonizing periods of nothing, followed by a period of time where I’ll sit with my computer for hours or days on end, drinking my weight in tea and absolutely ignoring everyone and everything else while I churn out an entire short story.

A cactus. My writing is a cactus.

#20: Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I like how I sit around thinking about all the (not actually very clever, probably) things I do in my writing, and then the moment someone actually asks me this question I forget everything I’ve ever written. The second I post this response I’m going to remember something I wish I’d said.

I don’t know whether this counts as symbolism or some other device that my midnight brain currently can’t name, but in Irrational I do a thing with Percy’s glasses; they’re like a sort of security blanket. He touches and adjusts them unnecessarily, which is a fidgety, nervous thing to do with excess energy, especially because he’s so laced up -- but it’s also a sort of reassurance, almost like making sure they’re still there, like a shield. He takes them off at some key points when he’s getting really vulnerable in conversation with Audrey.

I think it’s fun to tie fics of mine together that otherwise don’t have anything to do with one another, by setting them in the same timeline/universe and referencing some of the same OC’s. Audrey’s dad in Irrational, Jack Greene, has a cameo in Must Be One of Arthur’s Boys, and he’s also going to be a significant character in a new fic I hope to start posting to AO3/FFN soon, which is about Eileen Snape and has absolutely nothing to do with Percy and Audrey’s storyline. Similarly, Arthur’s Boys has a scene that references the infamous stag night for George, which is a thing that George and Ron tease Percy about in Irrational.

Actually, if you got me started, I feel like I could talk about Audrey forever. I mean, I love that Percy gets paired with someone who is devoid of canon information except a name, so really she’s an OC and it’s amazing to see all the different approaches to her. I created her for Percy. I asked myself, who’s this person he’ll work out with better than anyone, who actually loves and respects him (because we don’t do unhappy relationships here) -- and I was dissatisfied with an Audrey who is either a carbon copy of Percy or a foil to his personality meant to “fix” him or challenge him or loosen him up or whatever. So I have all these thoughts about why I believe this version of Audrey works with Percy, as well as a lot of feelings about how I’ve deliberately written her to be very ordinary -- not bold, sassy, bitter, sarcastic, or otherwise special, and definitely not Not Like Other Girls (TM) -- and tried to write a realistic romance that could happen to anyone, that just so happens to be set against the backdrop of this extraordinary world where unreal things happen.

Ooh, also, I can’t very well ramble about this, because it would give it away, but “clues for future scenes” made me think about this, so I’ll drop this tidbit here: A character in Irrational has (unwittingly) already figured out the answer to the exploding wands situation -- and mentioned it in a conversation without even realizing they’re right.

Thank you for the asks!

#ronsgirlfriday #romione #ron weasley #percy weasley #audrey weasley #hermione granger #percy x audrey #writing #writing meta #fanfiction #hp fanfic

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remys-lucky-franc · 4 years

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Comfort - Remy POV Fic (Queen of Thieves)

“Hey, I wanna ask for a Remy angst. Are you allowed to write angst?”

I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to write this for you, life’s just been a bit crazy between work and studying lately, and it’s so annoying because I’ve had some really nice requests that I’m excited to write for people, but I just haven’t had any time to work on them! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this @ilovewritingfics 💕

Notes: although it’s written from Remy’s POV (I’ve never written a POV before for anything!), the fic is set in Nikolai’s route, which sounds weird, but you’ll see what I mean. No specific TWs for the fic, it covers Nikolai’s trauma surrounding his family, so if you aren’t up to date and don’t want a spoiler on that, or if it’s upsetting to you, consider giving this one a miss.

Word Count 2100

I want to credit my lovely friend @stopforamoment for her suggestion on the topic for this short fic - thank you lovely.

—-

[MORE] [[MORE]]

Dinner Club. One of my favourite things we do together. Every member of The Gilded Poppy is different and everyone has their own interests, of course. But this is something we can all enjoy, and I love this family time so much: everyone laughing, sharing food, telling stories, teasing each other... It’s always such fun to be part of this, and after a successful heist, it’s even better!

After all, tonight we have a beautiful vintage fencing sword in our possession! I know, it’s part of a much larger plan, but for tonight at least, stealing it has made Niko really happy, and that makes me happy. He’s sitting at the end of the table with a glint in his eye, listening to Daisy and Leon chatter joyfully about the (I must say, very predictable) ‘twist’ at the end of some romance novel. It’s a glint that I’ve seen a lot since Daisy joined our (very attractive) crime family. I smile to myself as I watch how her cheeks colour so prettily when she notices his eyes fixed on her, like she’s the only person in the room. It’s been a long time since I’ve saw Niko’s interest pique the way it does when she’s close by, if ever, actually. The energy between them, it’s something quite unique: special. She’s a match for him in ways I’ve never seen before, and the challenge is good for him. It’s like she set off a spark in him and all of the wonderful things that make him Niko, are just ‘more’ with her around. I watch them play their game - anticipation, flirtation, power and control - I’m well-versed in ‘love’ and seduction (some would say ‘a master’) but this something else: it’s not part of a con, not something ‘to get out of your system’... I only hope Daisy doesn’t tire of it, because I’ve never seen someone get the better of Nikolai Stirling the way she can.

I lean forward skewering something delicious from the sharing platter in front of me, popping it into my mouth, laughing along to the friendly debate Zoe, Jett and Vivienne are having. Vivienne’s losing her argument and is trying to convince me to fight her corner, but I’m too preoccupied with how I could use my conman charms to ‘gently persuade’ my best friend and Daisy to forget who is winning their mindgames and push them closer together. Niko will hate me meddling, but it’s for his own good! Maybe tomorrow I can-

My plotting is abruptly ended as the waiter heading to a table behind us is jostled by a man who tries to squeeze past him in a space that’s too narrow. It’s like the world slows down... I can see what’s unfolding, but I’m powerless: I have no time, no way of stopping it. The waiter loses his footing, one arm flailing. I’m holding my breath! He recovers (barely) without falling over, but not before the glass of Amarone perched on his tray swirls and sloshes to one side, a crescendo of blood-red bursting free down the front of Nikolai’s crisp white shirt. The bold bouquet of fruit and spice hits my nose as deep red splatters bleed and seep across the fabric. Nikolai is frozen, complete horror etched across his face. Suddenly, all I can see is the scared fifteen year-old I befriended on the streets of Paris carrying a sick kitten.

The waiter has discarded his tray; he’s panicked and apologising to Nikolai, fumbling for a napkin to try to blot away the mess. Our friends have noticed, but before anyone else can react, I’m halfway across the table with the salt cellar slipped inside my pocket. I wrap one comforting arm around Niko, my other hand on the waiters arm, reassuring him (in flawless Italian, of course) that everything is under control and I’ll take it from here. Within seconds, I have Nikolai on his feet, gripping him close to me as I guide him towards the restroom: always moving forward. I keep my free arm across his chest, deliberately, to shield the stains from his sight; leaning in close, chattering to distract him. Anything I can do, anything to keep him walking until I can get him inside. He’s hyperventilating by the time we enter the plush restroom, and fortunately it’s empty.

“Niko? Breathe. Slowly. Come on.”

He’s still not responding, I gently put pressure on his shoulder, manoeuvring him onto an Art Deco-style chaise beside a large mirror. I crouch in front of him, cupping his face in my hands, offering comfort, speaking softly,

“It’s ok. I’m here. Your Remy’s got you. It’s going to be ok. You’re safe.”

It’s a mantra I repeat several times over while he trembles. Minutes feel much longer, but now his breathing is slowing and for the first time since the spillage, he makes eye contact with me. I’m so relieved! I nod and smile before I press a heartfelt kiss to his cheek. The worst has passed. He’s going to be ok.

I pause, taking just a few seconds to catch my own breath: getting him away from the table to a safe space, keeping him moving, it was all automatic, all done on instincts. But now, my mind races. I’m so glad this happened when I was at the table; would anyone else have been able to get him out the way I did? Would he have let anyone else lead him off like this? He looked so vulnerable just now, it breaks my heart to think of it...

‘Focus, Remy. Come on. You’re not done yet.’

I lean back, fingers shifting to his collar, offering him my most suggestive grin,

“Lose the shirt.”

Nikolai manages a weak laugh (I knew that would get him!) as his fingers move toward his buttons, I realise a second too late that his hands are shaking too much to undo them. He mutters a strangled apology and rakes a hand through his dark hair as I make short work of them, startled by just how hard his heart hammers inside his chest, even now, minutes after the incident. He shrugs his way out of the shirt and I take it to the counter, grabbing some paper towels to blot out the liquid before dumpling half of the stolen salt cellar onto the stain. Selecting an expensive-looking cologne from the selection provided, I head back to Niko, spritzing it around him as I go, trying to erase the lingering scent of the alcohol from his nostrils.

As I join him on the chaise, he clears his throat awkwardly, his usually crisp clear voice barely audible at all,

“Thank you.”

I bump my shoulder against his, still trying to lighten the mood,

“Pas de problème.”

He still looks like he’s met a ghost, and I can feel the seat vibrate under me from his agitated tapping foot. But at least he’s speaking to me: when things have happened before, things that have triggered horrible memories for him, sometimes it’s taken hours to get him to even look at me. The first time it happened, long before The Gilded Poppy existed, we were only street kids, sleeping rough and begging. I’ll never forget it as long as I’m alive. A group of men left a bar near where we were hoping to earn a few francs, one of them was worse for wear and fell to the ground, vomiting. It wasn’t until I turned to Niko, ready to make some sassy comment about how the drunk couldn’t hold his liquor or his wallet, that I realised something was very, very wrong. It took hours for him to come back around, and days to feel better afterwards... I didn’t have a very happy childhood, and I was forced to grow up quickly, but not in the same way as Niko. The things he suffered... I can’t help but put myself into his shoes, picturing my family around our small dinner table, my lovely old meme, my mother bringing food to the table, my father chatting to my young brother about school... How unreal it must have felt to Niko, how terrifying. I cannot begin to imagine: to watch your whole family die... And such a painful death... It’s little wonder it haunts him. I scrub my hand across my eyes trying to shake the sickening scene.

I clap my hand on Niko’s knee as I stand, heading back to check how the salt is working on his shirt: it may seem ridiculous, but a conman has to think fast, and you never know when a cleaning tip like this will be useful! Of course, the shirt is looking much better - now I just need to rinse it and dry it off. Almost done. I bustle around the washbasin, running the breast of Niko’s shirt under the piping water, rinsing away the salt, pink dye flowing down the drain, erasing tonight’s events. I hold it up to the lights, smiling as I do.

“I think the shirt will survive, Niko.”

I start the hand drier, just as I hear Niko murmur something, far too low for me to hear over the roar,

“What was that?”

I stop, making my way back across to the chaise, gesturing for Niko to repeat himself. He looks up at me with the saddest blue eyes,

“I never wanted her to see me, like, this. How can she...” His posture visibly stiffens, “She won’t respect me after this?”

I frown. Of course, he’s talking about Daisy. And something in his voice tells me that Daisy’s ‘respect’ isn’t the feeling he’s truly worried about, but while he’s shirtless in a restaurant bathroom really isn’t the best time for me to play Cupid... I try to tell Nikolai that Daisy is the last person who would think any less of him because of this, she is so lovely: surely he knows her well enough, to know that? Daisy is sensitive and kind: she would understand. But he’s still shaken and so agitated about what happened at the table, my honest words make no difference; his barricades are going up and he mutters that he doesn’t want her pity. I make a show of raising one eyebrow at him, and shaking my head before I march back to the hand drier. I love Niko dearly, but he can be so stubborn, it makes me crazy!

Ten minutes later, Niko is looking much more collected, and is back in his gleaming white shirt: I am a man of many talents, it’s true! He straightens himself up in front of the mirror as I watch on: it’s almost as though nothing ever happened. We exit the restroom and rejoin our friends. Everyone is wonderfully discrete: they pretend we never left the table. Niko doesn’t utter a single word for the rest of the evening. His expression is strained and he doesn’t touch a bite of his food - he’s going through the motions but I know he can’t wait for the evening to end. I chip in some delightful anecdotes to help keep the conversation flowing, but what happened tonight weighs heavily on me: what if this happened and I wasn’t here? What if something like this happened on a heist? What if I couldn’t get to him? What would we do? How could I keep my best friend safe? What if something went wrong and I wasn’t around anymore? Who else understands like me?

I meet Daisy’s big brown eyes over the table, concern is written across her face. She really cares for Niko, it’s so obvious. I wish he would let her in... Having someone else who loves you, an extra person in this world looking out for you, to rely on... She could be the best thing that ever happened to him. She could make him happy, I can see it all.

I make a silent promise to myself: they say that love will find a way? Well, it certainly will when Remy Chevalier helps it along.

#queen of thieves #lovestruck fic #remy chevalier

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ladyofmaidensandwine · 4 years

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Day Seven

Day Seven of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Fem! Reader

Prompt- “Are we friends?” “No.”

Warnings- Drinking? Dean being illegally attractive?

Wordcount- 2,050

You’re sitting in the bunker with Charlie for your rare movie night. Things haven’t been settled enough for the two of you to really see each other, between the last world-ending event, your normal hunts, and Charlie’s responsibilities as Queen of a LARP Kingdom. Ahead of you waits a movie marathon- you would bet money Charlie picked Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings series- girl talk, and movie snacks, and even better, a night off from ganking monsters or stitching yourself and the boys up.

Sam and Dean had even left the bunker for the night, going to have some “brotherly bonding”, which you suspected was a cover for probably getting themselves arrested, absolutely piss-drunk, or both. “Alright, up for some Harry Potter?” Charlie exclaims, already sliding the disc into the large telly Dean had hooked up to what he and Sam called the “Dean-cave” (you refused to call it that). ��Obviously. While we watch, you can finish telling me all about this girl you met.” You tease, wiggling your brows playfully at your red-headed best friend. Charlie laughs and agrees, and you grab the popcorn and change into your pyjamas.

You were both laughing so hard your stomach ached over the story of your latest hunt- on which Dean had tripped right into the grave you’d dug, and the lid of a coffin had closed, trapping him with a skeleton- when the bunker doors open, familiar footsteps clunking down the stairs. “Y/N? Charlie?” Dean calls, peering into the room. “Hey, Dean. What are you doing back so early?” You ask, turning to face him questioningly. “Stealing my popcorn, apparently!” Charlie gasps, looking affronted as Dean reaches over to steal a handful of her popcorn. You laugh, and Dean winks, quickly munching on the popcorn with an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Friends share, Charlie.” He states seriously. “Are we friends?” Charlie asks, and now it’s Dean’s turn to act offended. “No. Apparently, Y/N is the only nice one here.” Dean huffs, green eyes narrowing at Charlie as he crosses his arms over his chest. You snicker and shove the tall hunter’s shoulder playfully. “Who says I’m nice?” You quip, raising a brow. “Unbelievable. You two are- are ganging up on me!” Dean shouts, throwing his hands in the air, and directing a glare at you and Charlie, while you only gave an innocent smile. “Payback for interrupting girl’s night. Now get out, Winchester, unless you want to hear all about my date from last week!” You smirk, Dean’s ears going red as he mumbles inaudibly and whirls around. “I am gone!” He calls from over his shoulder.

You and Charlie laugh at Dean’s expense before you turn back to watch the movie, except her playful smirk that can only mean she’s up to no good is now directed at you. “What? I don’t like it when you look at me like that, Char.” You say nervously. “Oh, nothing. It’s just interesting, is all.” Charlie shrugs nonchalantly, her smirk only growing. “What.” You demand, less a question and more an order now. “You and Dean. How long has that been going on?” Charlie questions eagerly, leaning closer to you. You nearly choke on air. “Me- Dean and- What?!” You sputter, eyes as wide as moons. “Oh, please, Y/N, as your best friend, it is my sacred duty to inform you that you two are making major heart-eyes at each other. It’s kinda gross, actually, in a cute way.” Charlie snorts, rolling her eyes at your apparent obliviousness. “Charlie, I think you’ve been watching too many rom-coms.” You scoff. “Y/N, are you serious? You can tell me, I swear I won’t say anything.” Charlie pleads, giving you a pair of puppy-dog eyes almost as convincing as Sam’s. You sigh, realizing she isn’t giving up, and resign yourself to your fate.

“Alright, fine, you got me. I may, sort of, just a wee bit, kind of... fancy Dean.” You admit. “But if you tell anyone, or even think about it near him, Charlie, I swear to God, I will bloody murder you!” You rush out, panicking at the thought she might let something slip. You loved Charlie, but she was kind of awful at keeping things hush-hush, and you would die from embarrassment if Dean ever found out about your not-so-platonic feelings for him. “I knew it! This is like, amaze-balls, Y/N! In the books the tension was so unreal, and in person, it’s killing me! Dean is totally crushing on you!” Charlie squeals, her face lighting up at your admission. “Holy Batman, you guys are just so cute together! You have to tell him!” Charlie insists. “Charlie, you’re insane. We get along great, and our friendship is really important to me. I’m not going to risk that because of some stupid feelings. Look, Char, I love for trying to convince me to take the chance, but it just isn’t gonna happen, and that’s okay. I’d rather be Dean’s friend than a hook-up or something.” You sigh. “But Y/N, I’m totally serious! You should see the way he looks at you-” “I’m attractive, and I’m a woman. Of course he looks at me. Lust and love are two very different things, Char. Can we- can we just drop it, please?” You ask, mood much more subdued now. “Okay. You’re wrong, though. You’re the Hermione to Dean’s Ron.” Charlie says softly, letting the topic go and playing the next movie.

What neither of you know is that Dean had walked back, about to inform you of the next hunt, and heard everything from your threat on Charlie’s life, to Charlie’s weird, Harry Potter-themed comparison. Dean stood frozen in the hall, and almost dropped his beer in utter shock, his swift reflexes preventing him from being caught. He was glad no one saw him, because he was sure he’d turned a brighter red than Charlie’s hair, eyes bugging out of his head. Dean had been harboring the world’s biggest crush on you since the moment you’d met- first time the Winchester brothers saw you, you were spattered with blood (whose blood it was was impossible to tell) and had just eradicated a nest of at least five vampires, alone, and Dean was pretty sure he’d frozen and stared at you for a full minute- and had kept it to himself (except Sam, who somehow knew about Dean’s feelings before Dean knew about Dean’s feelings) the entirety of the four years he’d known you. The whole time, he didn’t think for a second you might feel the same way. For a split-second, he wondered if he was dreaming, the surprise of hearing you say out loud that you, Y/N L/N, actually fancied him, Dean Winchester, making his head spin and heart rate accelerate dangerously. And he knew exactly what he had to do.

You and Charlie had shoved Dean Winchester and all relating topics aside, completely focused on catching up on all that you’d missed, and laughing over inside-jokes and the movies. “Hey, I just had a great idea.” You say suddenly. “What?” Charlie demands excitedly, smiling wide. “Snacks are great and all, but what would really make this a party is some tequila.” You grin, eyes bright with mischief. Tequila was Charlie’s weakness- two glasses in, and she’d be three sheets to the wind, and singing loudly and off-key whatever horrible pop song came into her head for hours, until she eventually passed out. “Absolutely not!” Charlie denies instantly. “Knew you’d say that. You’re no fun.”, you say with a smile, “but if you insist on denying me my own private concert, I’ll break out the cheap booze instead.” You finish. “Be right back! And don’t watch without me!” You shout warningly, Charlie giggling behind you and claiming she made no such promises.

You were still grinning as you made your way to the kitchen and the cabinet which housed bottles of cheap, but effective, alcohol. Rummaging through your options and humming classic rock to yourself, you didn’t notice someone else entering the room. “I hope you two aren’t drinking tequila. I don’t think I can handle a three-hour repeat of Charlie singing “Walking on Sunshine” again.” Dean’s low voice chuckles, the sound of his warm timbre sending warmth to your cheeks instantly as you recall the conversation about him from earlier. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. Just some trashy vodka tonight. I think the trick is to get her drunk before mentioning the tequila so she won’t be so sensible and say no.” You laugh, turning around with the bottle in your hand. Your breath catches at how close Dean is, close enough to count every freckle, to see every colour in his unfairly gorgeous messy green eyes. Your nervous smile falters under the intensity of his gaze- normally, when he’s as focused and determined, it’s because he’s staring down some demon or monster. Now he’s staring at you, and the air feels charged, and then his eyes drop from yours to your lips. It’s an effort not to let the glass bottle slip from your hand to the wood floor, and you should probably get going, really shouldn’t be doing this, but the rational part of your brain is drowned out in the overwhelming wave of Dean, and his smell, like good whiskey and leather and gasoline, and his eyes, which were seriously too beautiful to even be possible, and the way he was looking at you. He moves, and this time, you do drop the bottle, thankful for Dean’s quick reflexes as he catches it, and places it behind him on the island without looking, his plump lips crashing onto yours, stubble scratching your cheeks in a way that ignites a blaze of fire in your belly.

You kiss back just as passionately, all teeth and tongue and hands that map your body but stay above the waist in a way that’s so gentlemanly and so not. Just as swiftly as the kiss began, Dean ends it, pulling away barely, so you’re breathing the same air, chests heaving. It’s silent for a long moment, just staring at one another, your mind replaying the scene a million times. “You should get back to Charlie.” He murmurs, looking dazed and unfocused, but his eyes are still fixed on you. “Yeah.” You nod, suddenly insecure- was this his way of changing his mind, letting you know the kiss had been a mistake. Something in your expression or flashing through your eyes must give you away, because Dean gently cups your jaw in his rough, warm hand. “Hey,” he says, making you meet his eyes again, the green of them turned dark and hungry, but he’s looking at you with such tenderness, too, “you and me, we’re gonna talk, and I’m gonna kiss you again, probably a lot, but if you don’t walk out of this kitchen soon, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.” Dean says roughly, drinking you in. You suppress a shiver at the insatiable look in his eyes, the firm set to his jaw, and carefully step around him.

You take the vodka bottle, and grip it so tight your knuckles turn white, like it’s the only thing keeping you from jumping the hunter right there in the kitchen. Dean watches your every move, and at the threshold, you look back at him. “So, I take it you fancy me then, right?” You ask, needing to hear confirmation. His lips draw into a smirk, and you want to kiss the smug expression off his face. “Give Charlie a thank you for me. Never been so glad for her Harry Potter references in my life.” Dean replies, watching in amusement as you flush red, realizing he heard you little talk with Charlie. “Hope she wasn’t spendin’ the night.” “Why’s that?” You dare to ask. “’Cause we’ve got plans.” Dean smirks, cocking a brow at you, waiting for you to tell him if he was crossing a line. “I’ve seen Harry Potter too many times anyways.” You mutter, meeting his cocky grin with one of your own, and quickly leaving the kitchen.

“Charlie, I will never doubt you again, as long as I live.” “Well, good, but what happened?” “You and Sam hang out tonight.” “Huh? But- sleepover! Why?” “I’ve got plans.”

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting

#ibw: hello spring 2020 #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #y/n

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tavi-hayes · 4 years

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challenge five ~ a night to remember

((this is longgg (12k) please please please ignore the spelling/grammar errors. also this is the best i could do when it comes to writing, i’m sorry. big thanks to all the lovely people who did rps with me. pia @brookelynnsanders and ana @itzelbm-oc you two are wonderful, i can’t believe i got to be a part of a britzel rp! chris @leanarg my hero, thank you for fixing tavi’s dress and helping me with a specific part of this fic, i seriously wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, and also thank you for that fun rp! and finally anna @hugo-stanton thank you for the nice rps, you always bring a smile to my face! finally to anyone who is going to read this, enjoyyyy!))

The reflection in the mirror is staring back at me. It’s weird seeing myself with straightened hair instead of curls. It had taken my maids over an hour to create this hairdo, working with two hair straighteners at the same time.

I reach up a hand to touch it, but Carla appears out of nowhere and she slaps my hand away. “Do not touch your hair,” her voice is firm, but the usual sharp sting is not there right now. That’s a first. “Your sweaty hands will ruin all of our hard work.” She pushes a towel into my hands, ordering me to dry them. I quickly and quietly do as she says. My hands aren’t even that sweaty.

I place the towel on the sink and look back into the mirror again. This dress is unreal, hugging my body in all the right places. It makes me look elegant yet fierce and maybe even a little sexy, but of course it’s still appropriate for a ball.

My only problem with this dress is the colour: white. Prior to the ball, we’re supposed to attend a dinner and that may be the biggest obstacle of all. If I spill even a tiny bit of food on myself, the beautiful and soft fabric of my dress will be ruined.

A knock on the door startles all three of us. My maids exchange a look I can’t quite place. Carla grabs me by my elbow and turns me around so I’m facing her. She quickly looks me up and down with a critical look in her eyes. “Don’t clasp her hands together during the photo moment. It will look like your protecting your… you know.”

That is something I never thought I would hear her say. But based on her stern facial expression and the earnest tone in her voice, I can tell that she isn’t joking. I quickly unclasp my hands and let my arms hang besides my body instead. Carla gives me a nod, “better.” She pushes me towards the door at the same exact moment Willa opens it.

“Hello,” someone says in a deep voice I don’t recognize, “I’m here to escort Lady Octavia.”

I need an escort now?

I step into the doorway and the unknown man makes me a little bow. He seems to be around my age so that’s kind of a relief. At least I’m not accompanied by some weird older creep.

His eyes really stand out, they’re a dark shade of brown with a little sparkle in them. They remind me of Bambi’s eyes.

As a way of greeting, I curtsy. But it doesn’t go as smoothly as I had hoped, given that it’s a skill I still hadn’t mastered. The eyes of my maids are burning in my back, I will definitely hear about this later.

The guy offers me his arm and I gladly take, eager to get away from Willa and Carla because let’s be honest they could scold me for that poor attempt of a curtsy right now.

When I look back at them, for the first time I think I might see a positive emotion on their faces. Could they be proud of me? Or maybe they’re just happy to see me gone for one evening? It’s probably the second option.

If someone had told me 6 months that I would be attending a ball in the palace, I would have called them crazy. But now here I am and it’s happening. Life can be very unexpected.

I wonder if my family would even recognize me if they could see me now. Right now I look nothing like the Tavi from back home. She only ever wore band tees and jeans, earphones in during most of the day. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s just that the difference between that Tavi and the one here in the palace is remarkable. The one here, me, looks presentable and put together. She wears dresses and heels and she spends most of her time in the library, reading law books. But it isn’t just my appearance that changed, it’s the inside as well. I have learned that not everyone in the higher castes is the same; that my family and friends mean the absolute world to me and I miss them terribly; and most importantly that it’s okay to talk about the shit in my past, because there are people willing to listen.

“Lady Octavia?”

“Yes,” I say, suddenly realizing we’ve almost reached the dining hall. All the other girls are already here, waiting for the doors to open. I turn to Bambi who has a content look on his face. I let go of his arm. Now that we’re just waiting, there is no need to hold on to him. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“It’s Jakob Condle,” the smile on his face reaches his eyes. I don’t know what to say in return so I just nod. Thankfully someone calls out to him, saving me from this awkward moment. He excuses himself before he walks a little further down the line of people.

I sigh in relief, grateful for his chatter to be directed at someone else for the time being. He is the first palace staff member, or whatever his function here is, that I’ve met who talks this much. Not that I’ve met that many of them, but I thought they would only give you necessary and clear instructions, like my maids did. But okay, maybe he just needed someone to listen to him.

“How are you tonight?”

I recognize the voice immediately, it belongs to someone who I enjoy talking to. I turn in the direction of the speaker. “Oh hello,” I return the smile Hugo is giving me. “I'm alright thank you. What about you? Excited for the ball?”

“I'm mostly okay and mostly excited. Are you ready for it?”

“I think so, I don't really know what to expect.” Now that he’s glancing down the hall, I have the perfect opportunity to look at him without him noticing. Hugo is looking very good, all dressed up like this. Very charming and …

I catch myself: Tavi! Friends remember?

“You look nice by the way.” That’s something one friend can say to another, right?

When he looks back to me, there is a little blush on his face. Did I say the wrong thing? I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. “The dress you picked is lovely.” His smile is a bit different from the one I remember so well.

I narrow my eyes a little, I can’t quite put my finger on what the actual difference is. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing!” he says that so quickly that I start doubting whether that’s true. Speaking from my own experiences, I know that saying nothing doesn’t always mean nothing. “Sorry, it's just been a long day.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” That is the very least I could offer. Especially after he had listened to me rambling about my dad and everything coming with that. “If you want to of course.”

This time, he gives me his normal smile. “It's just that I actually wanted to see if you would want to dance with me later. Only if you want to of course.”

I’m surprised by that, I hadn’t thought anyone would want to dance with me. And why is he asking me this now? He could’ve waited till the actual ball was starting. I don’t mind though, at least now I have something to look forward to. I chuckle softly, “don't be silly, of course I'd want to dance with you.”

If there is anyone I would want to be a witness of my poor dancing skills, it’d be Hugo.

As friends of course.

“I'd love that. Thank you.”

“There is absolutely no need to thank me.” As if I would ever say no to him. But I still get the feeling like something is wrong. I put my hand gently on his arm, “are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, I've never been better.” The smile on his face grows bigger and bigger. “I'm just looking forward to tonight.”

A smile appears on my own face, “I'm glad to hear that. Are you a good dancer?”

“I might accidentally step on your foot, full disclosure.”

This dance is going to be great then since my own dancing capacities are very limited. Just the idea of it makes me chuckle. “I can't promise I won't do the same thing to you.”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs. “If anyone's going to step on my feet I'm glad it's you.”

Is that a compliment? A smile automatically appears on my face. “That's what you're saying now.”

“Then you can ask me after too.” The smile on his face widens.

A hush falls over the crowd, piquing my interest. But I just can’t stop looking at Hugo and his beautiful smile.

Eventually my curiosity gets the better of me and I turn around to find out what caused the sudden silence. Oh. It’s the prince with an unknown woman by his side. I had overheard my maids talking about international royals coming to visit for the ball, so maybe this woman is one of them?

Now what is he doing? Is he laughing? I didn’t know he was capable of that.

And then, a whisper near my ear. “I'll see you later?”

“Of course,” I say as quietly as possible. Whispering is also not one of the things I’m good at and I obviously don’t want to steal any attention away from precious prince Arin.

I shift my gaze to see Hugo back away. He smiles one more time at me before he turns around.

A new presence appears at my side and I turn my head to see who it is. Oh. It’s the guy who’s supposed to escort me, Jakob aka Bambi. He gives me a smile, but it just isn’t the same as Hugo’s. I force myself to smile back as a way of greeting.

He offers his arm again. As I take it, I notice that everyone around us is already in formation. The doors open and one by one us girls are escorted into the dining room.

The first thing I notice are the different tables. We used to be seated on round tables, all spread out in front of the royal table. But now there are 2 rectangular tables facing each other, creating 90 degree angles with the ends of the royal table.

Jakob leads me to my place. It’s almost at the end of the right table, for which I’m glad. I’m almost as far away from the eyes of the important people in this room. So if I make a fool of myself, or spill food on my dress, the only people noticing would be the 2 girls sitting beside me.

I let go of Jakob’s arm, but when I reach for my chair he beats me to it, pulling it away from the table. I mumble a thank you to him, knowing that he probably means well. But still, I’m perfectly capable of letting myself sit down on a chair.

He gives me a quick nod before he disappears.

A couple of minutes later, Brooke appears out of nowhere. “Hey girl.”

“Hi hi. I’m glad to be sitting next to you again.” I truly mean it, there is no better company than Brooke.

“As if they could rip us apart,” she winks as she sits down on the chair on my right.

Well technically they could. “It would be a crime if they did that.” We’ve been mealtime buddies since the beginning. If we ever got different seating assignments and Brooke would no longer be sitting next to me, that would make one quiet meal. I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.

Once all of us have been seated, the international royals enter the room followed by the Illéan ones. My eyes fall on Hugo. I simply can’t help myself. But who is that girl by his side? Could that be the sister he spoke of? But they look nothing alike, I feel slightly confused.

I decide to avert my gaze and focus on who else enters the room. These royals really know how to dress up for events like these. All of their outfits suit them so well.

Then there comes the prince. The one we were all supposed to fall in love with. Safe to say that didn’t happen to me. I feel like during that awful paintball date we settled into a mutual feeling of dislike. Something could probably be done to fix it, but I hadn’t felt like putting my time and energy into that. And neither had he, to be honest. We hadn’t spoken since that date.

I don’t understand why I haven’t been eliminated yet, he could simply tell me to leave and I’d be gone.

But for the time being I’m kind of grateful that I am still here. I get to spend all the time I want in that library, still hoping to find something that could help my dad. And, I’ve got to spend more time with the nice people I’ve met. I’m not complaining.

* * * * *

When dinner is over everyone is moved into a big ballroom. There are decorations everywhere. I didn’t know iridescent colours could be a theme, but this sure is working and it’s beautiful.

I don’t even know where to look. Everything looks perfect.

In the fuss of switching to another room, I’ve lost sight of Brooke. Now I’m all by myself and don’t really know how a ball is supposed to work. It’s not like I’ve ever attended one before.

I find a nice spot near one of the walls where I can quietly observe the other people in the room. I see people mingling with others, standing near the drink table, or simply doing the same thing as me. There are also people dancing, which seems to be the main event here. Then my eye falls on the orchestra not that far away from me, playing the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. It’s a great mix of classical music and instrumental versions of popular songs. I know how I’m going to spend my evening.

I have no clue how much time has passed as I’ve been so absorbed by the music, but at some point my gaze lands on Brooke who is just heading my way. “Hello,” I say, smiling at her. “Are you enjoying the ball?”

She doesn’t look to happy. “Not so far…”

“What's wrong?” I tuck some hair behind my ear, just then remembering Carla’s firm words. I wasn’t allowed to touch my hair. Well too late for that now. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she hums as she looks around. “I just need to get something over within a few.” She turns to look back at me then with a smile on her face but it doesn’t feel that genuine. It doesn’t reach her eyes. “How have you been?”

I still feel a little worried about my friend. What if she got herself in trouble? I really do hope she would tell me, but I don’t want to be annoying so I decide to let it go. For now. “I'm alright thanks.” My eyes go to the many decorations around the room, catching the light every now and then, reflecting all possible colours. “This is quite a party, isn't it?”

“It definitely is,” a sigh escapes her. “I am happy I found a way around wearing one of those gowns...” But then she scoffs and shakes her head, “also have you found the bar already?”

“You look stunning, Brooke,” I say, and I mean it. That power suit is perfect for her, it complements her so well. It’s literally her personality in an outfit. She looks amazing. “I don't know if there is a bar, but I believe there is a table with all sorts of drinks,” I look around, trying to spot the table. But there are too many people crowding around us, I can’t find the table anymore.

My compliment earns me a light smile. “Thank you Tavi. So do you.” Before I even know what’s happening, Brooke grabs my arm and drags me to the drink table. Of course she’s the one who spotted the location of the alcohol.

There are so many different glasses lined up on the table. I’m guessing each type of drink has its own glass but, given my limited knowledge on the matter, I honestly have no clue what it all is. I recognize the ones with champagne though and stay far away from those glasses. Not a fan. “What even is all of this?”

Unlike me, it seems like Brooke doesn’t care what she puts in her mouth. She just grabs the one closest to her and downs it in one go. “No clue.”

I eye the table again. Some glasses are filled with some brownish liquid. I’m not sure if it’s whiskey but I’m not about to try my luck. I don’t have a lot of good experiences with that specific drink. Just thinking about the last time, when Brooke had brought over those bottles, I can already taste the flavour in my mouth. Plus it had given me one of the worst hangovers I’ve ever had. Or maybe that had more to do with the fact that I had finished almost the entire bottle…

I decide to go for some clear drink. Perhaps this is just regular water? I take a little sip, yeah definitely not water. It tastes like a gin-tonic, with a very very distant hint of gin. But alright. I turn around to face the dancefloor again. People are dancing around like they have no care in the world. It’s quite magical to watch them move completely in sync with the music.

“So what's this thing you've got to take care of?”

I slightly tilt my head, waiting for Brooke’s response. Her face tells it all, she’s worried. “Gotta break up with the princey.”

I almost drop my drink. That is not what I was expecting to hear at all. This could only mean one thing. “You're leaving?”

She nods her head, “I didn't come for the love of the prince.” She sighs, but there is also a hint of smile. It lights up her entire face. “But I found love nonetheless.”

Weeks ago, she told me she didn’t think she had ever been in love. And now hearing her say she has found it, I feel so happy for her. I can barely contain my excitement as I grab her arm. “You did?”

“You know Itzel - am I right?”

“Oh my god Brooke!” I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly. I completely forget about the glass I’m holding and my drink spills all over my hand. But I don’t care about that right now. The only thing that matters in this moment is Brooke. “I'm so happy for you.”

“Thank you Tav. Didn't think something like that would ever happen... But it did.”

“You deserve it.” I hold onto her for a little moment longer. When I let go, I find her grinning at me. “Tell me. How did this happen?” She never mentioned anything during mealtimes and I never noticed anything different about her. I do remember the sparkle in Itzel’s eyes every time she mentioned Brooke when we were in the music room though. It makes sense.

“Thank you.” The smile on her face grows bigger and bigger. “You are actually the first person to know.” There is a brief pause. “I just randomly ran into Itzel at my runs a few times. And I don't really know. But she just - it just feels so right being around her. I actually never thought that I... You know. But I actually can't imagine a life without her anymore...”

I can’t help but smile myself, Brooke deserves the absolute world. “That sounds so great. And Itzel is such a kind soul.”

“She is indeed. Shines bright like the stars.” Brooke is practically glowing with happiness.

“Where is she now?” I look around the room but I don’t see Itzel’s face anywhere. Seriously why is Brooke over here talking to me when she could go and have fun with the lady of her heart.

“I haven't seen her yet - but she should show up any minute.”

“Hm,” I don’t recognize the song the orchestra is playing now, so I will definitely have to look into that. The cellos play the most beautiful notes, their sound flowing perfectly through the music created by the rest of the orchestra. But still they manage to stand out among the other instruments. “How are you going to drop the news to the prince?”

“I still haven't found a sensitive way to be honest. I was slightly debating sending him a ‘breakup’ cake.” I can hear the nerves in her laugh.

The thought of a breakup cake makes me laugh, that’s definitely something Brooke would do. “That would have been funny. Do you think he'll be upset or something?”

“Probably more relieved.”

I take a sip from the now half-empty glass in my hands. Such a shame that most of the drink got spilled on the floor. “Then why are you nervous?”

“Cause then it's really real.”

I reach for Brooke’s hand. I wish I could do anything to help but this is something she and Itzel need to do by themselves. “You'll be fine, you deserve happiness and love.”

That’s when Itzel joins us. “Ladies, I hope you are having a wonderful evening now that I have arrived.”

Brooke says something and then winks at Itzel. How did I not know there was something more between them? “Itzel hello! You look gorgeous.” The dress she’s wearing suits her so well, the colour of it really makes the brown in her eyes stand out.

Itzel smiles at me. “Tavi! Awww,” she waves her hand to shrug off my compliment. “And you look stunning! Very sophisticated and ready to rule the world.”

That makes me laugh. Ready to rule the world is definitely the vibe I’m going for. Just hand me crown already.

I thank her anyway.

“And Brooke, you seem ready to break a couple of hearts. Very...” Itzel hums as she looks at Brooke from head to toe. “Ethereal.” Brooke replies with an eyeroll. They’re so adorable, it warms my heart. Then Itzel turns to me with wide eyes. “Oh Tavi. I heard your band and told ya I actually enjoy it. Not what I usually listen to, but definitely have amazing songs.”

“Oh really?” I had forgotten about her promise to listen to my band’s music. “I actually didn't expect you to enjoy our music. But I'm glad you did. Thank you.” The fact that she put in the effort to look for our music makes me smile. We’ve been working so hard on creating our own music for years, making it extra special to hear someone saying they like them. It means the world to me.

Itzel nods her head, “Yep. I actually sent it to my dad and he loved it. Says it's right up his alley. No problem, Tavi.” Before I can reply, she clears her throat and looks between me and Brooke. “So what were you two talking about? It looked quite serious.”

She had talked about her dad during our last encounter. She said music was like an escape for him. Just like it is for me. “Your dad really sounds like a man after my own heart.” Brooke is holding out a drink to me and I take it and thank her. I feel like I shouldn’t be the one to tell Itzel what we had been talking about so I remain quiet, hoping Brooke will open her mouth.

Itzel laughs because of my comment about her father. “What can I say many ladies were, and obviously are still, enchanted by my father.”

I really wonder who would be able to resist a man like her dad. He ticks off all the essential boxes. Too bad he is already married and has children. And I could be his daughter. What a shame. I can’t help but laugh.

No one has answered her question yet, but the laughter has died down, resulting in a silence. Itzel tilts her head, patiently waiting for an answer.

Minutes go by before Brooke finally replies, “ohhh I just told Tavi about the scene we will cause in a few.” She nudges Itzel with her elbow.

“Ah, I see.” She chuckles softly. “It's going to be grand. A good way to end this, at least that's what I think.” Itzel shoulders relax a little, I hadn’t notice how tense she was. I could only imagine what their conversation with the prince is going to be like. It must be nerve-wrecking, having to tell him you’ve found love elsewhere. “If things go south, then I have the necessary help to make a run for it. Me and my beautiful lady.”

I look between the two of them, a warm and fuzzy feeling falling over me once again. “I'm so happy you two found each other.”

“Tavi stop being so sappy.”

I shoot Brooke a look, “sorry I can't help it.” What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t feel any kind of joy for them?

Itzel links her arm with Brooke’s, smiling at me. “Well thank you, Tavi. I'm sure you'll find someone who makes you feel...all these feelings.” I myself am not so sure of that. If only someone would change his mind. But I don’t see that happening in the near future. Or ever.

Brooke and Itzel start talking about a dance. I’m the obvious third wheel here and they deserve to have a moment for themselves. “I take this as my sign to go?”

But that is not what they have in mind apparently. Brooke smirks at me and drags both me and Itzel towards the dancefloor. “No one is getting out of this party without shredding the dance floor with me.”

Itzel laughs at that. “Guess not, Tavi. It's a party and Brooke isn't gonna let us go easily.”

There is nothing I can do to stop this anyway, so I decide to just go with it.

The orchestra is playing the instrumental version of some popular song. Without a dance partner or a list of dance steps to follow, I can now freely move on the beat of the music. Such a relief.

Brooke is doing the same as I am, having fun while breaking into some dance moves. Itzel on the other hand seems to be a little more hesitant. But Brooke manages to twirl her around. They both look so happy with bright smiles on their faces.

I take a few steps backwards to let them have their movement. That’s the least I can do.

At some point, Itzel makes her way over to me pulling Brooke with her. “I'm slightly intimidated by how well you two seem to dance.”

That makes me laugh. “Don't look at me, Brooke is the pro here.” She really has a natural feeling for the rhythm in music, making it all look so very easy. Next to her, everyone else looks more like an amateur.

“Would have been a waste of money if that weren't the case,” Brooke replies.

“Well... I'm going to get a breath of fresh air. You two carry on.” Before Itzel walks away, she plants a quick kiss on Brooke’s cheek.

They really seem like the perfect pair, balancing each other out. Adorable.

“You okay?” I ask Brooke once Itzel has disappeared. Something about her facial expression has changed, perhaps she’s worrying about her upcoming talk with the prince again.

“Yeah...” She sighs deeply and stops dancing. “I just realized it's probably gonna be my last night here.”

I stop dancing as well. I hadn’t realized that she will be leaving the palace so soon, but of course it makes sense. Why would the prince keep her here? “Are you going to miss it?”

“Never thought I'd say it,” she says as she turns to look at me. Her eyes betray her nervousness. “But yes...”

I link my arm with Brooke’s. “Come on, let’s get you another drink.” I know that doesn’t solve anything, but perhaps it could take some of her nerves and worry away.

I let go of Brooke as we reach the drink table again, handing her a drink. “What are you going to miss the most?”

“You... And maybe the food…”

Hearing her say that, breaks my heart. We had walked into this experience together and now she’s leaving. “I'm glad you put me before the food. But I'll miss you too.” Terribly. I know it’s a little selfish, but I don’t want her to leave me behind. Who am I supposed to talk to during mealtimes when she’s gone?

“Was a thin line.” And then she’s pulling me into a hug.

I don’t want to let go of my friend. Can’t she just stay by my side forever?

But I know she can’t, especially now that she has Itzel. They deserve to start a life together. Let them have their happiness.

“Group hug?” Itzel says from behind me somewhere.

I laugh softly, “please join in.” And so she does.

“My loves,” Brooke says, hugging us even tighter.

When we let go of each other, I can’t help but feel very sad. How will I survive this without my friends?

I’m not really listening to what Brooke and Itzel are talking about what else they’re going to miss. Itzel says something about a small forest and by the look on her face I can tell something has happened there. I don’t want to know the details of that.

“Tavi?” Brooke voice brings me back to reality. She’s holding a little eyeliner pencil towards me, “phone number.”

I take the little pencil from her and write down my number on the wrist she’s offering. “You can call me any time, okay?”

“Watch me call you 5 seconds after I left this place.”

Itzel laughs, “or we could kidnap her every now and then, I'm sure she's allowed to leave the palace if she'd like.”

Brooke raises her eyebrows at that. “Promising plan.”

Itzel winks, “exactly. Like I have been saying before I have eyes and ears here. It could work.” For some reason I don’t think she’s exaggerating.

“I can leave on my own account, you know. No need for a kidnapping action.” And besides that, I feel like my days of staying in the palace are soon to be over anyway.

“Shhhhh kidnapping sounds more fun,” Brooke winks at me. Yeah sure, of course kidnapping sounds fun to her. She’s not the one being kidnapped.

“It's no fun if it's too easy,” Itzel says, crossing her arms. These two really are a match made in heaven, aren’t they?

I look from one to the other, suddenly unsure whether they’re joking. “Can you at least warn me in advance?”

Brooke shrugs her shoulders. “Sure - we'll give you a smog signal.”

“I will stay near a window at all times then.”

Itzel seems way too excited for this, “Sounds like a plan!”

I’m going to miss these two so much. “This place is going to be so dull when you two are gone.”

Brooke hands something to me. “For the bad times.”

I take the package from her and look at it. Of course. Weed. What else could I have expected from her. “Thank you Brooke, you really are a great friend.” A little bag of weed is all I ever wanted... But still I appreciate the gesture.

“Camping trip once this is all over?” Brooke’s gaze shifts between me and Itzel.

We both agree. At least I have something to look forward to now.

Brooke and Itzel go into a different direction. Perhaps they’re on their way to the prince for their chat. Or maybe they just need a little more time with each other before that moment.

I make my way back to one side of the room, the spot where I can go enjoy the music without being in the way of people. I realize I’m still holding the little package of weed in my hand. What am I even supposed to do with this? I didn’t bring a bag and my dress doesn’t have pockets. There is only one other option, I try to tuck it into my bra without anyone else noticing. Hopefully it will stay there.

* * * * *

A sudden tap on my shoulder surprises me. The music had consumed me once again. I didn’t notice someone had approached me. But when I turn around and see who is standing there, I feel disappointed. It’s not the person I was hoping for.

It’s Bambi. Or should I say Jakob?

“You promised me a dance,” he says, offering his arm to me.

Oh god. I don’t remember that but I must have agreed to it during our walk to the dining hall, when I hadn’t been listening to anything he was saying. Sigh. Is it too late to say no now?

After some serious debating in my head, I take his arm. I don’t want to dance with him but the other option is rejecting him on the spot and that may be even worse, especially if he is going to cause a scene.

He leads me to the dancefloor. Other people are already paired up and moving on the rhythm of the music.

Bambi takes my right hand in his own, placing his other hand on the back of my waist right on the spot where my dress is showing some skin. I really don’t like the feeling of his hand there. With my free hand I move his arm slightly upwards so that his hand is now resting a little higher on my back, far away from my skin.

I place my hand on his shoulder and he starts the dance. I wish I had paid more attention during the dance lessons we’ve had this past week. For some reason this type of dancing just isn’t for me. You’d say someone who’s into music as much as I am, would be able to connect the music to the required movements. But something apparently went wrong in my head because I just couldn’t make it work. This dancing was just a little stiff and there were so many steps to remember. Pfft.

I feel my dance partner’s eyes on me. I turn my head away so I don’t have to look at him. He’s talking to me, but I don’t listen to any of the words coming out of him. Instead I focus on the music. It’s pure and beautiful and touching.

Someone bumps into me. Isn’t it the man’s job to pay attention?

“Oh, I’m sorry… hi!”

“Oh it's okay.” I turn to see who bumped into me, even though I’m pretty sure I recognized her voice. Leana. “Hello.”

The guy Leana is dancing with tries to lead her away from me, but she’s not having any of it. “How’re you liking the party?”

Bambi however understands what she’s trying to do and keeps us close to one another so we can continue our conversation. “It's quite fun, isn't it?” I have to turn my face to see the girl I’m talking to. Dancing and talking is not a good combination when your conversation partner is not the same person as your dancing partner. “What about you?”

I notice her gaze shift to someplace behind me. I turn my head to see who or what she’s looking for, but I can’t figure it out. After a brief moment of silence, she replies, “it’s being ... quite a surprise.”

“A surprise?” I raise my eyebrows, but I don’t think she notices. Her gaze is still focussed on something else in this room. “In what way?”

Our dance partners are not really making it easy for us. Right now, Leana’s partner is blocking my entire view of her. “I mean... I had been in big events but nothing like this.”

“Yeah,” I answer as if I relate to what she’s saying. The biggest event I’ve ever been to, was a rock concert in the Park Theatre back in Winnipeg. And the vibe during that concert was the complete opposite from the one right here in this ballroom. “The royal family sure knows how to organize a party.”

I wonder if she even heard what I was saying because her partner is trying to lead her away again. But then I see her open her mouth, “what about change partners, should we?” She lets her partner twirl her around one last time.

Before I even realize what’s happening, she is standing in front of me.

I look to Bambi just in time to see his round eyes go even bigger. He doesn’t say anything, even though he doesn’t look too happy with this sudden change. Leana’s partner is looking at him with the same expression on his face, completely lost. The sight of them makes me laugh. I don’t think they were expecting something like this to happen.

“You want to dance with me? I have to warn you, this is not one of my talents.” Understatement.

“I know, I saw you at the dancing lessons,” Leana replies. Well at least she gives me an honest answer. “I’m not that good either but I refuse to stay standing at a party.”

“I was hoping nobody had noticed. But I have to agree with you, the music is worth dancing to.” Even now the rhythm of the music is calling out to me, encouraging me to start dancing. As long as I can move freely, there is absolutely no problem. But whenever a dance partner appears, everything goes wrong. I honestly don’t know what my problem is.

Leana is swinging along on the rhythm, her eyes are again trained on something or someone else in the room. “Hey, you should have play something for us tonight.”

I turn my face to look at the ensemble creating some beautiful music at the moment. “Nah I'm good, I wouldn't want to impose.”

“After listening to you playing I don't think anyone would see it that way,” she shrugs.

“Thanks,” her compliment makes me chuckle a little, “but I think I'll pass.” I honestly don’t feel like putting myself in the spotlight right now. This is not my ball and I don’t want to be the centre of attention. In fact, I’d rather be enjoying the music and everything from the side line. “Hey, you've got moves. Have you done this type of dancing before?”

That makes her laugh, “I have but I’m not that good...”

“Don't be so modest,” I offer her a reassuring smile. If she is ‘not that good’, then where does that leave me? “You're better than most of us.”

She bobs her head a little. “I won’t argue about that...” A crescendo in the song catches my attention. Leana apparently heard it to because she switches places with me right when it happens. We continue dancing, but in reality it’s more like she is dancing and I’m copying whatever she does. “How does your family spend this holiday?”

I refrain from saying that I feel like it’s only the higher castes that consider Independence Day as a holiday. For me and my family, it’s a day just like any other. “We don't really celebrate it to be honest. But we do have a more elaborate dinner that day, with other family members coming over and such.” I tilt my head a little. “What about you?”

“There’s always an important dinner hosted by governors, so we haven’t celebrated it as family for a long time... just my mom, now, my little brother and me eating something delicious.”

“Oh,” it never occurred to me that families might not see each other on a day they consider to be a holiday. I can’t imagine what that must be like, if everyone in the family has different obligations. “I'm sorry. Do you miss your family?”

Leana keeps on dancing, every move she makes is in sync with the music. “I do miss them, but we didn’t see each other during the day much, just breakfast.” She raises a shoulder as if it’s nothing. “I have texted them and called them so I’m fine. What about you?”

“I miss my family terribly.” They are the most important thing in my life. I just want to hug them and never let go again. “Phone calls just aren't the same.”

“Uh videocalls?” she raises an eyebrow at me.

“I mean,” I sigh softly, “it's just not the same as real life you know.”

Leana nods her head slowly, she’s not really looking at me anymore. “It’s hard to be used to be around someone every day and suddenly he’s not ...”

I don’t really understand what she’s talking about. “Uhm I'm sorry?”

She blinks her eyes a couple of times, finally focussing back on me again. “I mean family, having the family away it’s hard.” She reaches out to me and places a hand on my arm. The smile she gives me seems genuine.

Is she talking about my dad? How did the conversation take a turn to this?

“Yeah it sucks.” I don’t feel like elaborating about it, not on a night like this when we are supposed to enjoy ourselves.

Her hand slips to mine and she makes me twirl. “Looking forward to dance with the prince?”

I’m glad for the topic change but why did it have to go to the prince now? “I wasn't planning on dancing with him, no.” Last time we talked, I didn’t get the impression that Leana was too fond of him either. Something must have changed between them two. Interesting. If we had been a little closer in terms of friendship, I would have asked her about it. But I feel like it’s not my place to do that, so I drop it and raise my eyebrows at her. “Are you going to?”

She raises her eyebrows in return. “You said that as if you had other specific plans...” The curiosity is right there in her eyes. It must be the journalist in her, always wanting to know everything. But then she shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess he’s going to be busy for a while.”

The ball is well underway and I realize I haven’t paid any attention to the prince and his whereabouts. It’s the same thing I have been doing the last couple of months, casually ignoring his existence. “But I'm sure if you ask the prince, he'll accept the dance. It's kind of his job isn't it?”

Her face turns into a grimace. “That doesn’t sound so good ... if it’s his job I will consider giving him a free day then.”

I gasp, pretending to be shocked. “Ah Leana, don't rob him of his opportunity to dance with you.”

Speaking of opportunities for a dance, I remember someone asking me for one earlier tonight. Where is Hugo? I glance around the room, but I can’t seem to find him. There are people walking, talking and dancing everywhere.

Leana’s laugh makes my attention shift back to her, “he will be fine.”

“Hm, you're going to break his heart.” Poor prince.

Her eyes sparkle with amusement when she answers, “I remember someone was going to serenade him. What happened with that?”

We had indeed made a deal all those weeks ago, to see whether he would be scared away by my band’s music. But the entire thing had slipped from my mind. Such a shame. It makes me laugh, “I completely forgot about that.”

She doesn’t answer besides shaking her head in disappointment.

“Please forgive me,” I say with an overdramatic tone in my voice. If she really wants to know how the prince responds to music, she could play some guitar for him herself. Her guitar skills are pretty good, even if she says otherwise.

“I mean it’s never too late,” she says, adding a wink.

We continue dancing and talking for a little while, but then a familiar face catches my attention. I turn to face Leana again. She keeps on dancing without a care in the world. The twirls she’s making highlight the ruffles of her beautiful dress, the fabric flowing along in the movements.

I glance back at Hugo a second time. He’s still where he was a minute ago.

“Um- I’m afraid I need to go get something to drink... is okay if I,” Leana’s words make me turn back to her.

“Uh yeah sure. Thanks for the dance,” I say and I mean it. I don’t know if I would have survived an entire song with Bambi. His monologue made it impossible for me to hear the music. Leana saved me from that at least.

She smirks at me, “have fun.”

“Yeah you too,” I say, waving a little goodbye before she turns to walk in the other direction.

I walk over to the drink table, trying not to bump into other people along the way. It’s quite a challenge of its own. Some people really don’t pay attention to where they’re going, either because they’re too focussed on their conversation or because they might be drunk.

Eventually I reach my destination and extend a hand. “Care for a dance?”

Hugo turns to me with a smile on his face. I don’t think that’s a view I will ever be bothered by. As friends of course. For some reason, I have to keep reminding myself of that. Why can’t I just accept it and let it go?

He takes my hand, the soft touch bringing me back to reality. “You don't even have to ask.”

I practically drag him with me towards the dance floor, again trying not to bump into other people. “Are you enjoying the ball so far?”

“Yes, but I think I'm enjoying it more now. I've been looking forward to getting my feet stepped on all night.”

His answer makes me snort. “You can step on your own feet, you don't need me for that.” I’ve done it to myself numerous times, sometimes even resulting in me falling on my face. It’s not something I’d recommend but if he really wants to, then it’s an option.

I hear a soft chuckle coming from behind me. “I could but I'd rather have you do it.”

We’ve reached the dance floor and I turn to face him. Before I even know what I am doing, I step on his foot lightly. “Here you go, happy now?” In doing so, some hair has fallen in front of my eyes. I’m sure Carla would allow me to touch my hair now, it’s literally blocking a part of my view. Although, knowing Carla she would probably criticize me for it. I reach up anyway and tuck the hair behind my ear. I glance around to find other people paired up as well, ready for a dance. Some of them are other selected, partnering up with unknown men. Their escorts perhaps? “I might need your help though, this is not one of the things I'm good at.”

His laugh attracts my attention again and I glance at my friend just when he returns the gesture, stepping lightly on my toes. “I’m thrilled.” Before I can do or say anything, he pulls me closer. His hand rests on the back of my waist. I don’t mind his hand there, contrary to Jakob’s hand which I moved upwards as a result. “You've got this. I'll be here with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” I place my free hand on his shoulder.

Right at that moment the orchestra begins to play a new song, one from the classical genre this time. “You're doing really well, Tavi.”

Such a liar, I know in fact that I’m not doing well at all. “Stop it, this is all you.” But I can’t stop the smile from coming to my face. “Have you taken dance lessons? Or does this come natural to you?”

“Don't sell yourself short.” Hugo squeezes my hand softly, causing me to miss a step. He doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t mention it for which I’m grateful. “I've taken some dance lessons, yes.”

I nod my head a little as I listen to what he’s saying. “Impressive. Truly. This doesn't seem like an easy thing to learn.” Yet if I had paid some attention during those lessons, I might have actually learned a thing or two.

He laughs, though I don’t know what I’ve said to have caused it. I’m not complaining though, it’s such a joyous sound. “Well, you know how to do other things way better than I do.”

“Oh right yeah, bannister sliding. Let's not forget that one.” The memory alone makes me chuckle. That is something I will remember forever.

That only makes him laugh more. “You're never going to let that go, are you?”

I shake my head, “nope and I will make sure you don't forget about it either.”

The laughing stops. Instead he tilts his head to one side, smiling at me again. “This is going to sound weird but I don't think I mind.”

I- I don’t know how to take that. Or how to respond. I decide to opt for a joke. “Well great because in the afterlife, my ghost is definitely going to find your ghost and be like ‘hey Hugo, do you remember that bannister thing?’ So you will be reminded of my victory forever and ever.” I don’t dare say anything about the time before afterlife. Perhaps he doesn’t want to stay friends with me once this selection is over.

He looks away from me, but I can see the tiniest blush appearing on his face. “But maybe until then you can remind me while we're alive?”

His words make my worries disappear. “Of course.” I even manage to get out a soft laugh. “I wouldn't want to throw those opportunities away.”

“How close are you and Arin?”

“Me and prince Arin?” This is the second time tonight that someone brings up that prince. Do I give off the vibe that I want to talk about him or something? “We're not close at all. We haven't spoken since that date and that was what, 2 months ago or something? Why?”

There is a brief pause before he continues speaking. “So... if you went out one night maybe you don't think he would mind?”

“I think he'd be glad to get rid of me.” I honestly think the prince wouldn’t even notice if I had gone missing. I truly don’t understand where this conversation is going or why the prince was brought up in the first place. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I know it's not really allowed.... but I was wondering if you might like to go to dinner sometime.”

Hang on. This has already happened before.

I raise my eyebrows, “a date?”

“As friends I mean. Friends of course.”

My heart tells me to get my hopes up again, but my head tells me to not be stupid. I follow the advice of my heart, not having learned anything from last time when he had dropped that friend bomb on me. “You mean as friends?” Please don’t make me go through this again. Please don’t make me feel like an idiot.

But then he shakes his head. “No... not as friends.” A billion things pass through my mind all at once, creating some sort of chaos. I feel speechless. And maybe it’s because I don’t say anything, because he adds in a quiet voice, “I'm sorry- I totally get if that's not what you want and I was wrong.”

My heart is racing but I manage to clear a path in the complete chaos in my mind. “Hugo,” I softly squeeze his hand, hoping it might be enough to get him to look at me again. “I would love that.”

When he finally looks at me, his eyes have gone a bit wide. “Really?”

I nod my head, unable to keep a smile from appearing on my face. “Of course.”

“Okay,” he lets out a breath and nods. “It's a date- and not as friends.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Not as friends.” I don’t understand how this even happened, especially after last time. I hadn’t seen this coming at all, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it. It’s a nice surprise.

There is the tiniest pressure of Hugo’s hand on my back, pushing me a little closer to him. “I thought you were going to say no.”

“Really?” I look up at him, raising my eyebrows. “Why would I ever say no?”

“I just wasn't sure if you felt the same way...”

I squeeze his hand again. “I thought I had made that pretty clear.” Let’s be honest, I hadn’t been doing a good job at the whole friends thing. “But now you know.” My own words make me blush a little. Normally I would try to avoid conversations like these at all costs, but with Hugo I just couldn’t.

“I'm glad I was wrong.” That beautiful smile is on his face again. “Very happy.”

I return the smile, enjoying this moment with him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more at ease with someone than I do with Hugo. This silence is welcome, giving me time to clear the rest of the chaos in my head so I can at least enjoy this moment.

But then I realize why it is silent.

The song has ended and the orchestra isn’t playing a new one yet. “Oh,” I quickly let go of him, taking a little step backwards. I really don’t want to attract any unwanted attention from other guests. Some of them could be slithering around like snakes, looking for interesting stories they could turn into huge scandals. Dangerous territory. “I'm sorry I don't mean to take up all of your time.”

Hugo reacts the same way as I did. He also steps back, creating even more distance between us. “Oh... You weren't.”

The talking has completely distracted me, I didn’t pay any attention to the music. Did we even dance? “I didn't step on your feet, did I?”

He shakes his head. “Not once, except for at the beginning.”

That’s a relief, at least I did something right. Unlike those dance lessons. I’m pretty sure my practice dance partner has bruises on his feet from all the times I accidently stepped on them. Poor guy. “But that one was on purpose, so it doesn't really count.”

“On purpose or not I'd rather have no one else step on my toes.” I need a second to let those words sink in. No one else. What is that supposed to mean? I blink my eyes twice, only to find him holding his arm out to me. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Of course.” I close the distance between us again and gently take his arm. “Where to?”

A smile lights up Hugo’s face again. “How about the gardens? I heard they're nice tonight.”

“Sounds great.” I smile back at him. Some fresh air would be nice actually. Especially after being in this room full of people for… how long now? “But are you sure you don't need to stay here? What if someone wants to dance with you?” During that tour, he mentioned that he had befriended some of the other girls. I don’t want to take their opportunities for a chat, or maybe even a dance, away.

“All I am is a cousin. No one cares too much about what I do or where I go.” He shrugs as we walk towards the open doors. It’s dark outside but I can already see some lights illuminating plants here and there.

I turn my face back to Hugo and just look at him for a moment without saying anything. His words break my heart a little bit. This is his family after all, how can he feel like they don’t care? “I'm sure that's not true.”

He nods his head. “It is. But I don't mind. I like being able to mostly live the life I want.”

“Okay yeah I get that.” I look at him for a little while longer, but then I avert my gaze to see where I’m placing my feet. I really don’t want to make a fool of myself by falling. I focus on a champagne glass lying on the floor not too far away. How it survived its fall is beyond me. “Just... know that I care, okay?”

Hugo doesn’t reply right away. I wonder if he even heard what I was saying. Or maybe I said something stupid. But what I said is the truth, I had cared for him ever since the moment I met him. He had been so kind to me, making me feel at ease during that photoshoot. And then during that tour, when I had told him all about my dad and he had just listened. He hadn’t judged me or my family. He didn’t look any differently at me after I was done talking. There was no fear or anything close to that in his eyes. I’m not sure he knows just how much that little moment means to me.

“Tavi..... thank you.”

My heart might break a second time just because of the way he says my name. “You don't need to thank me,” I say as I pat his arm a couple of times. The gardens stretch out before us now. I had been mistaken, it’s not just a simple light here and there. In every direction I see lights of different shapes, brightness and colours, yet it all fits together perfectly somehow. “Oh look, you were right. The gardens look beautiful.”

There is a moment of silence. I don’t need to look at him to know that he’s also taking in the view of the garden. “Safiya did this.”

“She really has an eye for detail. It looks amazing.” The decorations in the ballroom are gorgeous, but the ones here in the garden are absolutely magical. It doesn’t matter where I look, there is something beautiful everywhere.

“She's always known what went together.”

The sky is filled with a billion little lights of its own. The stars flicker as they create their own patterns. “Are the two of you close?”

Hugo chuckles, “it depends on the day.” That’s always the case with family, isn’t it? On most days there are no problems, but on others even one wrong look can cause the next world war. But no matter how bad the argument, family is family and you love them anyway. “Do you have siblings?”

“I have one older brother, and a younger sister and brother.” Just the thought of them makes me smile. I’m sure Aria would love to attend a ball like this, if only for the gown.

“What are their names?”

We continue walking through the gardens. Lights are hung up, lining this very path. On the left there is a huge tree with fairy lights wrapped around the tree trunk and its branches. “So first there's Daniel, he already has a family of his own with the cutest little baby. And then my younger siblings are Aria and Arlan.”

“That’s a lot to keep track of. I just have Chloé and she’s more than enough.” There is so much love in his voice, it makes me smile. “Do you get to see your older brother often?”

“Yeah he always comes over a couple of times a week for dinner.” And I guess he has been coming to our house more often now that I’m gone. Daniel had promised me he would look after mom and the little ones. The feeling of missing them hits me so hard, I almost break down in tears. I need to steer the conversation away from my family. “Are you and your sister close?”

“Sort of, the past few years we've gone our own ways a bit but I always love spending time with her.”

“Oh that's nice.” We pass a flowerbed with multiple balls of light placed in it. Some shine a soft pink light, while others look more like blue and green. “Is she the girl you walked into dinner today?”

There is a moment of silence before he answers. “No... I escorted Felicity...”

“Oh,” that name rings a bell somewhere. Felicity. Then I remember the very first etiquette lesson all those months ago. She had entered the room, whispering something we couldn’t hear to the princess. I didn’t know who she was then, but Brooke had explained, ‘I am pretty sure it is Prince Arin's ex-girlfriend.’ No matter how hard I think about this, I can’t make sense of the situation. I don’t understand how Hugo came to be her escort. Why couldn’t the prince accompany his own ex-girlfriend to a dinner in his palace? “But she's the prince's ex? Why would you escort her then?”

I look over the flowerbed on my right, the light balls illuminate some flowers while others disappear completely in the darkness of the night. As we walk past it, the soft colours of the lights sort of blend together.

“Yeah she is, but we were paired up because it's a rank thing. We didn't decide that.”

“Okay of course.” I nod my head, “that makes sense.” What am I doing? I feel like I’ve overstepped a boundary. I shouldn’t have asked about it in the first place. “I'm sorry, that's none of my business.”

“Please don't be sorry.” He pauses for a second. “I have something I should tell you...”

I rip my gaze away from the flowerbed and turn to Hugo instead. “What? Are you okay?”

He nods his head, “I'm fine, I just want to be honest with you. Felicity and I... we...”

Where is this conversation going now? I furrow my eyebrows a little, but I keep quiet so he can continue talking.

He looks so uncomfortable, it makes me feel bad. “We were never really together but... we got close. But I want you to know she's only a friend.”

I don’t know what to say but then something my dad once told me comes back to mind. I was about 6 years old when my parents had asked me which music instrument I wanted to learn how to play: my mom’s violin or my dad’s tuba. Deep down I knew, while both instruments can create the most beautiful sounds, that I wanted to play the guitar. I had seen some musician play it on TV and I fell in love with it right away. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell my parents, in fear of disappointing them by choosing a different instrument. One day my dad asked me what was wrong and I started crying, telling him about the guitar. He pulled me into a hug, assuring me it was okay. “Octavia, we can’t force you to play the violin or the tuba. You have a voice of your own and you’re allowed to use it. This is your life, go for the things that bring you joy.”

I know this situation is far from the same as choosing a music instrument, but I feel like the essence of my dad’s message is applicable here as well. And besides, who am I to judge Hugo? He sure didn’t judge me when I told him about my dad’s jail situation. “Hey listen. Even if she was more than a friend, it's your life and you should do whatever makes you happy.”

He lets out a sigh. I can’t decide whether that’s good or bad, but his face does seem to relax a little. “Tavi, I think you make me happy. And I want more of that with you.”

My heart is beating so loudly, it’s the only thing I can hear. I’m pretty sure Hugo can hear it too, and with him everyone else here in these gardens.

I can’t do anything but stare at him. This is what I have been hoping for deep down, I just can’t believe it’s actually happening. “You're not drunk, are you?”

“No, I'm not. Are you?”

Relief floods over me. At least he’s aware of what he’s saying.

I shake my head, feeling very glad for I only had one alcoholic drink tonight. I’m sure if I had been drunk, this would never have happened. I can barely hear my voice over the beating of my heart, “I think you make me happy too.”

He stops walking, causing me to do the same. His eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t say anything.

I don’t know what to say myself, so I try to go for a way out. “Do you think we should head back?”

“Can we just wait a minute...? I like being out here with you.”

I somehow manage to get some words out of my mouth. “Of course.” I feel like I’m dreaming and I could wake up in my room here in the palace any second now. Or worse, wake up in my bed back in Denbeigh.

He lets go of my arm and turns to face me fully. “I was thinking when this is over I should take you up on your offer and visit Winnipeg...”

“Please do.” I remember that conversation and it hadn’t been me who made that offer. Hugo had said, ‘maybe you could show me around. It's always so much better with a local friend around.’ I remember the words so well, because I had felt so confused for making a friend. Look where we are now. With a smile on my face, I add, “though I can't promise I'm that good of a tour guide. And you set the bar for that quite high.”

His smile has turned so soft. “You can't say a bad thing about anyone...” He reaches down and takes my hand in his. I’m reminded once again of the smoothness of his skin. “That's one of the things I like about you so much. You're the most kind person I think I've ever met.”

I shake my head, I’ve done so many awful things. Like that fight with Leana, judging her for being a journalist. Or when I had aimed that paintball gun on prince Arin. And then actually pulling the trigger, trying to shoot him. “I... that's not true.” And let’s not forget the endless trash talk coming out of my mouth whenever I’m around Brooke. I’m not a kind person at all.

“We all have our good days and bad days- they shouldn't define us.” He reaches up to brush some hair out of my face.

“Hugo,” I can’t do anything else but look up at him. “If there is someone worthy of that most kind person title, it's you.”

He shakes his head. “I think you're wrong... but,” he says, taking a deep breath. He leans a little closer, his face only inches away from mine. “Tavi?”

I don’t know how I manage to speak, I feel like I stopped breathing about 10 minutes ago. “Yeah?” My heart however keeps on beating, the speed increasing with every second that passes.

Then he leans in even closer, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

It feels like that moment when you’re waiting for a concert to begin. The lights are dimmed, and everyone goes silent. Your heartrate increases as you feel your anticipation level rise. And then the musicians take the stage and start playing their music. It’s the moment everyone has been waiting for. All the people start cheering and clapping, letting go of that build-up anticipation, leaving nothing but excitement and happiness behind. And the feeling of wanting more.

That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. I want more.

I let go of his hand and reach up to touch his face. His eyes lock with mine and I gently bring his face closer to mine, making our lips touch in a gentle kiss.

His hands go up to cup my face, holding me in place as he kisses me back.

My heart is beating so loudly, it’s impossible for him not to hear it.

The kiss makes me feel a billion things at the same time, but surprisingly there is no chaos in my head. There is a calmness somehow, my mind has gone completely blank. The only thing that matters right now is this moment. I don’t want it to end.

But then I realize where we are.

I take a little step backwards, glancing around as I do. I don’t see anyone, but it’s dark outside and someone could be hiding in a bush or something. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that here.”

He quickly glances around before leaning closer, kissing me again. When he pulls away, there is a smile on his face. “I'm not sorry.”

“Hugo,” I’m unable to stop the smile from appearing on my own face. I haven’t felt this kind of happiness in a very long time and now I don’t know what to do with myself.

He drops his hands from my face. I can feel the heat on my cheeks, they’re most likely bright red right now. Thank god for the darkness of the night. One of his hands slips into mine, “Tavi.”

There is something in the way he says my name. Like it’s something special. I fight the urge to kiss him again and instead I intertwine my fingers with his, “thank you for tonight.” It really had exceeded my expectations in every possible way.

“I'm so happy you said yes.” Hugo gives my hand a little squeeze.

I don’t know exactly which yes he’s talking about. I’ve said yes to so many things.

A dance.

A date.

A walk in the gardens.

If I had said no to one of those things, I don’t think I would’ve ended up here. With him.

I look down at our hands, joined together. I don’t want to let go. What if I do and all of this slips right through my fingers? But I also don’t want anyone to find out about this, whatever this may be. I could face any sort of punishment for myself, but I don’t want Hugo to get in any trouble. “Maybe I should head back?”

Our eyes meet again when I look up at him. “If it's okay with you I think I might stay out here a little bit longer?”

“Of course.” I let go of his hand, even though I don’t want to. I stand up on my tiptoes and give him one last quick kiss. “I guess I'll see you around then?”

Even in the darkness, I can see the smile on his face. “I'll see you around, Tavi.”

I return the smile before I turn around and start walking back towards the palace, forcing my heart to calm down. I need all of my attention to focus on the real world.

Darkness, an uneven garden path, me in heels, my mind elsewhere. All of these things together dramatically increase the chances of me ending on the ground.

Many people walk past me on my way back to the palace. Some are alone, others have company. It was definitely clever of me to return to the ballroom. There are curious eyes everywhere.

Back in the ballroom, it’s like nothing has changed. People are still talking, walking and dancing.

I make my way to the drink table only to find my escort Jakob aka Bambi there. He turns in my directions, his eyes sparkling as he recognizes me. But before he can so much as open his mouth, I quickly grab a drink and excuse myself.

I make my way through the room until I find the perfect, quiet spot where no one will bother me. I spend the rest of the evening there, watching the other people but not really seeing them. My mind keeps going back to what happened in the garden, reliving the moment time and time again.

#selectionoc #challenge 5 #fic #((do i tag this as tugo?))#((i guess i do...))#tugo

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athenagc94 · 4 years

Text

Gust and Piper - Beginnings Pt. 5

Whew! So here’s another part. I’m returning to the office at my job come Monday, so I won’t be able to post as freely as I did when I was working from home, so I wanted to get as much content as I could out in the open! Please enjoy.

I’m also posting the story here on AO3!

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Gust shrugged off his suit coat and threw it unceremoniously over his shoulders. His body ached and he could feel the itch of sunburn beginning across the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day down at the harbor. Normally, he never worked on site. He preferred his life living behind the scenes, away from clients and the more hands on experience of construction. That was Albert’s scene, they were behind schedule on the harbor project and Albert had come to the decision it was all hands on deck in order to make up for lost time. As co-owner of the business, that included Gust.

The Harbor Project was big for A&G, but he was beginning to wonder if they’d bitten off more than they could chew. Gust learned pretty early in the day that he wasn’t built to handle the stress of manual labor. His limbs felt like jello. If he was able to get out of bed in the morning, he’d be surprised. In short, he was stressed. He needed a drink.

Instead of heading home, he found himself turning towards the Round Table. Music and laughter could be heard on the other side of the door. The usual ruckus of a Friday night. He paused just outside the door. He needed a drink, but was he willing to sacrifice his peace of mind? Yes. He swallowed his pride and pushed through the doors.

He kept his head down as he approached the bar. One drink, then he’d head straight home. That was the plan. He just had to stick to it. He waved Django over. The mixologist took one look at him and his disheveled appearance, and got straight to work fixing his usual, apricot juice with two shots of vodka. Gust licked his lips. Moisture clung to the surface of the glass as Django slid the glass into his hands. He downed half the drink in one go, relishing in the refreshing tang of the apricot.

“Rough day buddy?”

Gust almost choked on his drink. Piper was sitting in the stool next to him, but she looked different. The Piper he knew was covered in grease and dirt with her hair thrown in a haphazard top knot. Her hair was down around her shoulders in loose waves. She even wore a little make up. Her trademark coveralls were nowhere to be seen this evening. She’d opted for a delicate silk button up the color of spring leaves and fitted jeans. His eyes fell to the brooch on her collar. The brooch he’d given her. It was her statement piece this evening and it worked. Light, did it work.

“Piper?” He struggled to swallow. His throat felt like sandpaper.

She glanced down at her outfit, then back at him. “Did you seriously not recognize me?” She looked offended, which was fair, even if that wasn’t his intention.

“It’s not that,” he said defensively, “I’m just surprised, you aren’t in your usual get up.” He took another sip of his drink, but it did nothing for his dry throat. The brooch paired with the blouse really brought the blue out in her eyes. “You look so put together.” He made a face. That was tactless, even for him.

Piper rolled her eyes and settled back in her seat. Gust had to stop himself from lingering on the curve of her hips. Those coveralls hid a lot. “I now see why Albert handles the client relations. You suck at complimenting people.”

Yes. Yes, he did. “I handle clients when the need arises,” he said firmly, “I helped you. You got your workshop addition. What more do you want from me?”

“Yes and you were just as prickly then as you are now.” She chuckled and crossed her legs, which only accentuated the curve of his ass. He tore his eyes away and stared pointedly at his glass, mentally berating himself. No. He wasn’t Albert. He would not oogle, especially Piper, of all people. He had more class than that.

“So what has you in such a foul mood besides well, ya know, everything.” She knocked shoulders with him playfully. “No offense, but you look like you were hit by a DeeDee Transport on your way over here. You normally look so put together.” She was using his words against him now, but Gust found himself smiling nonetheless.

“I spent my day transporting bricks and concrete for the Harbor project.”

Piper gasped. “You,” she stifled a chuckle, “but those lily white hands of yours have never seen a hard day’s work in their life? How’d you survive?”

Gust snorted into his drink. Apricot juice dribbled down his chin and onto his rumpled shirt. That seemed appropriate considering the circumstance. Piper looked so satisfied with herself. Her shit eating grin was unreal. “Well, I’m here aren’t I?” he wiped the juice away with the back of his hand. “I survived.”

“Yeah,” she snorted, “barely.”

“What about you? Why are you all dressed up?”

“I’ve got a date.”

Gust swallowed thickly. A date? He racked his brain. In all their recent conversations, she’d never mentioned an interest in anyone. Not that she’d say anything anyway. She spent most of her free time with the Civil Corps. He’d seen her dancing with Remington at Albert’s party. Maybe they were involved romantically. He shook his head. No. That would have gotten around. The town wasn’t very large. People talk.

“Yeah?” His voice was hollow as he finished off the rest of his drink.

Piper hummed in response. “Yeah, a long standing one. Sam and I play games on Friday nights. She likes to call it date night. Not sure how Phyllis feels about that though.” Gust immediately relaxed. Sam. Sam, who was in a happy relationship with Phyllis. Sam, her best friend. Of course, they’d spend their Friday nights together. That's what friends did.

As if on cue, the doors to the Round Table swung open and Sam came barreling into the dining room. She was followed by Remington and Arlo, who seemed less enthusiastic, but still pretty happy to be done with their day. Gust grimaced. He always left when the Civil Corps brats arrived. He trained his eyes on the dregs at the bottom of his glass. Sam flung her arms around Piper’s neck which sent her back into him. He gave no reaction, eyes still on his glass.

A new wave of exhaustion rolled over him. He wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the next 24 hours. It was an attractive prospect. Maybe he would. Piper had all but forgotten him as she chatted idly with Sam. He swirled the remnants of his drink and watched the chunks of apricot drift around. One drink, then straight home.

“Hey.” He looked up. Sam was gone and Piper was standing. “Do you want to play a game with us?”

“A game?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard they’re fun,” she said smugly, “you should try it sometime. Fun, I mean.” Gust massaged his temples tiredly. People kept telling him that. “Sorry, I think I deserve a few jabs at your expense every now and then. But I’m serious you should join us, at least for one game. I think you need to let off some steam.”

“What I need is some sleep.”

“You can do that too, after you play a game with us.” She glanced down at her watch. “It won’t take that long. I’m terrible. I promise. One game and you’re free to go, so what do you say?”

His mind was racing. Piper wanted him to stick around. He searched her eyes. She had to be doing this out of pity. He was sitting here and moping over an empty glass. She just felt sorry for him. That was the only reason she’d extend an invitation. Her expression seemed genuine enough, maybe even a little nervous as she waited for his response.

“Fine.” He stood up and began rolling up the sleeves of his button up. “I’ll play one game.”

Piper tried and failed to hide the shock on her face. She nibbled at her lower lip as they walked towards the game room at the back of the restaurant. Gust’s own heart was racing. He wasn’t lying when he said he was tired. Even so, he’d accepted her invitation. He never had an issue with turning down invitations before. He couldn’t dwell on his poor life choices for too long before, they reached the game room.

Arlo and Remington had already claimed the coveted shooting game along the far wall. Gust watched as Arlo shot each of the targets with a marksman’s precision. He expected nothing less from the captain of the corps. On the other side of the room, Sam was gathering darts from the board. A wide smile broke out across the face as the pair entered the room. He didn’t like the mischievous look she gave him.

“Are you joining us for a game, pretty boy?”

Gust wrinkled his nose at her. He loathed that nickname, granted he loathed Sam in general. She was loud, obnoxious, and the way she scarfed down food made him physically ill. This was why he avoided interactions with her at all costs. It was easy enough to do. Gust didn’t gravitate in the same social circles as the Civil Corps, or any social circles really. Yet, here he was, about to play a game with the very people he tried to avoid.

“I am.” His voice was tight.

“Well then,” her smile turned a little more sinister, “it looks like we’re playing darts this evening.” She waved the barbs in her hand. “Are you guys ready to get your asses handed to you?”

Gust scoffed. Another reason he disliked Sam. She had far too much pride. When she got competitive it was like looking in a mirror, one he wasn’t ready to look into yet. Still, he combed his fingers through his hair and tied it back in a low ponytail. “Are you ready to get yours handed to you?”

Sam’s eyes sparkled, and he was pretty sure the same spark was in his. “That sounded like a challenge to me?”

Gust smirked. “Perhaps it was.”

“Loser buys the next round.”

He could feel the electric air between them and the exhaustion in his bones seemed to melt away. He hadn’t played darts in years, but he was fairly confident in his abilities. He didn’t intend on folding so easily, not if he had the opportunity to beat Sam at her own game. “I like apricot juice with vodka.”

Sam’s expression hardened. “Then you can buy it for yourself when I win.”

“You’re on.”

Sam was good. Scary good, but Gust had anticipated this. Her confidence in her abilities was warranted and if they weren’t in the middle of a competition he might have admitted it. But they were, so he didn’t. She’d managed to get full points her first go around, but Gust didn’t let that deter him. He took a deep breath and rolled the dart between his fingers.

“Sometime today, pretty boy?”

Gust resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was one of those opponents. He wouldn’t let her taunts get to him. The dart board spun slowly in front of him. He watched as it made one, two rotations, then threw the dart with a flick of his wrist. It soared through the air with a certain finesse before planting itself firmly in the board. It only took one before the adrenaline was pumping through his veins. One after the other, the barbs found their mark. He smirked. A perfect score. He still had it.

“No way.”

“Wow Sam, I think you finally met your match.”

Gust glanced back at the girls with a smugly. “Your turn.”

Sam looked positively elated as she hurried over to him and clapped him hard on the back. “Looks like I found a worthy opponent. I was beginning to think I was the best.” He winced and tried to mask his groan of pain with a cough. Piper arched an eyebrow at him, unconvinced if the amused smile playing on her lips was anything to go by. Gust huffed and settled against the slot machine, which only made her smile wider. Damn it.

“I guess we’ll have to see who slips up first.”

↢↢↢↣↣↣

Ten rounds. Ten rounds of perfect scores. Gust wasn’t a mathematician by any means, but he felt like this shouldn’t have been possible. He glanced down at his watch. Even still, an hour had passed and neither of them had missed a shot. Over the hour, they’d gained the attention of Remington and Arlo, who now sat with Piper at the prize counter, watching in awe.

“How are you this good,” Arlo asked, “I’ve never seen you in the game room before now.”

“They have dart boards in Atara,” Gust said as he tossed another dart. It soared through the air, hitting its mark and Sam muffled a groan in the heel of her palm. Gust smirked and yielded the board back to her. “Whenever I hit a creative block, I’d throw darts. It was a thoughtless task that helped clear my mind.”

“You could just say it was something fun to do?” Remington said.

“You’re allowed to have fun.” Piper added with a smile.

“I don’t know if you’ve realized this Pipes,” Sam said as she chucked a dart at the board, “but fun is for humans.” Gust huffed. He knew where this was going. Sam gave him a shit eating grin before tossing another dart at the board. “And I’m not entirely convinced that Gust is human.” The boys laughed along with Sam, but he noted how Piper stayed relatively quiet from her perch on the counter. This surprised Gust. She loved making jabs at him.

“I’m not a machine,” Gust said once the laughter died down, “I know how to have fun.” He crossed his arms across his chest and glared evenly at Sam. “I just find joy in more intricate endeavors.”

“Yeah, okay, you can get off your high horse. We know you think you’re better than us.” Her words cut him like a knife. Sure, he’d received petty jabs from a few people, but no one had called him out so casually before. Gust frowned, but Sam had already turned her attention back to the board to toss her last dart. It landed right on target. Another perfect score. Sam groaned and kicked the ground. “At this rate, I’ll never get a drink.”

“You could always buy your own drink?” Piper offered as she picked at the dirt under her nails.

“Then what’s the point of winning?”

“You could always give up,” Gust couldn’t hide the smug edge to his voice, “and admit you’ve finally met someone who’s better than you.” He approached the board and gathered the darts as they entered the twelfth round of their game.

“Dream on,” Sam snapped, “I won’t give up that easily.”

Gust sighed. He’d already stayed out later than he wanted to. The initial adrenaline had worn off and now he could feel the exhaustion settling back in his bones. He was ready to turn in, but he doubted Sam would let that happen without a definitive end to their competition. She was unyielding, but Gust was willing to swallow his pride if it meant he could finally leave.

“Very well.” He pushed up the sleeves of his button up and turned back to the board. With the flick of his wrist, he let the dart soar across the room. It embedded itself in the wall, barely missing its target. He made sure to aim for one of the crosshairs, so the hole wasn’t too obvious. “Oh clumsy me,” he deadpanned as he stepped away from the board, “There goes my streak, I guess you win.”

The group looked at him, entirely unconvinced. Sam stepped forward and glared up at him. She stood at least a head shorter, but the fierceness in her eyes made Gust sweat. “That wasn’t a real win. You lost on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gust gave Sam a wide berth as he stepped around her and made his way back into the restaurant. “I’ll go get those drinks.” He slid into one of the seats beside him and out of the corner of his eye he saw someone slip into the one beside him. He didn’t need to look to know who’d followed him. He only spared Piper a glance before waving Django over.

“A melon mix,” his gaze flicked back to Piper, “and a red tea.”

“You don’t have to buy me a drink.”

“Loser buys a round,” he said tiredly as he slid some gols across the counter. “I’m not having a drink, so you can have mine.” He handed her the glass. “It’s what you were drinking when I came in, right?” She nodded and took the glass with a mystified expression.

“Thanks.” Gust only hummed as he took the other glass and made his way back towards the game room. “That was pretty impressive. Your dart skills, I mean.” Piper took a tentative sip of her drink and hissed contentedly. “I’ve never seen someone go head to head with Sam like that. It was admirable.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t anything remarkable,” he said, “I still lost.”

Piper made a face at him. “Did you though?”

His lips curved into a small smile. “I did.”

Piper snickered into her drink. “Of course, well better luck next time,” she said. Gust wanted to tell her that there wouldn’t be a next time, but he wasn’t given the chance. Sam was on him the moment he walked back into the game room.

“That wasn’t a real win and I won’t accept the outcome,” Sam said hotly, “you threw the game. I want a rematch.” Gust blinked down at her and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Unless you’re scared?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t unnerved by the primal glint in her eyes, but that had nothing to do with his ability to play darts, it was his survival instincts telling him it was time to go.

“I’m not scared and I won’t be playing again,” he said as he handed her the drink. She didn’t even look at it as she passed it off to Arlo who was now hovering just over her shoulder. He looked at it warily and he passed it off on Remington. Gust was only mildly concerned that he looked ready to jump into action. He didn’t really want to consider what this meant for him. “I’m tired. So, I’m going home.”

“Fine then,” Sam crossed her arms, “rematch next week.”

Gust cocked his head at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“I want a rematch next week. We always play on Friday nights. Meet us here and I’ll kick your ass in a new game. For real this time,” her glare was unwavering as she stared up at him, “I’ll drag you out of your home if I have to.” He could tell that wasn’t an empty threat.

“I think what Sam is trying to say.” Piper stepped between them and gave Sam a pointed look. “I think she’s trying to say that she’d like you to join us for another game night. It was fun.” She turned her attention back to Gust and smiled. “So please join us again next week.”

He should say no, right? Though he loosely considered Piper a friend, he had no desire to forge a kinship with the members of the Civil Corps. He glanced back at the dart board. It continued to its slow crawl and he found himself mesmerized by it. He did, however, miss playing darts and he almost enjoyed the company this evening, though he’d never admit it out loud. “Ask me again on Friday.” He blinked and Piper mirrored his expression. He was just as surprised as they were by his response. “We’ll see if I’m in the mood to deal with you incessant chatter, but I make no promises.”

“O-Okay,” Piper managed through her shock, “I’ll stop by A&G at the end of the day to see how you’re feeling.” Gust nodded numbly. “Thank you for playing with us. I think we all enjoyed it.” She and Sam shared a look and the blonde huffed and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, whatever, it was fun,” Sam said tight;y, “but I will win next week.”

“We’ll see.” Gust offered the group a curt nod. “With that, I think I’ll take my leave.”

They offered him a ripple of waves and salutes as he spun on his heel and made his way out of the Round Table. As he made his way home that evening, he found himself smiling. Perhaps it was the remnants of his drink, or the high after a good game of darts, but for the first time in years, he felt good. For once, he wasn’t thinking about leaving Portia. In fact, he was almost looking forward to next Friday.

#my time at portia #mtap #mtap gust #mtap builder #mtap sam #mtap remington #mtap arlo

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fromsolowithlove · 4 years

Text

Like a Sucker Punch - Complete

WARNING: REAL PERSON FANFICTION w/ Adam Driver & Daisy Ridley (Daiver)

WARNING TAGS: NSFW, INFIDELITY, CONSENSUAL INFIDELITY, EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

Summary: Daisy gets in her head and tries to ignore unresolved feelings for Adam throughout the filming of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and the events that surround it. Each chapter inspired by a song from the lovely Sigrid.

Words: 11.2K

Rating: Very much E. NSFW. Unless you have a very understanding boss. Or are self-employed.

Ultimately decided to post the complete fic here on Tumblr as well, cause why the hell not? This little fic baby got its start here first anyways before moving onto AO3.

Again, this isn’t for you if you can’t stand the shipping of Daiver. In no way does this reflect my deep dark conspiracy theories. It’s just my work of FICTION. A fun outlet. An angsty rom-com, if you will, starring two people with fantastic natural chemistry.

Now that I’ve lost all my followers 😈, READ THE ENTIRE FIC BELOW👇🏽

Chapter 1 - Strangers

“How about a twenty, folks?” JJ called for a break after deciding something wasn’t quite right about the scene they were filming. Rey and Kylo’s kiss had to carry the weight of three movies worth of waiting. Everyone involved knew its scale. It couldn’t be half-assed.

“Let’s make it a tight twenty,” Adam clarified.

Daisy sat up first, letting her chest fall over her legs. She inhaled a deep breath as she felt the fatigue of the past week settle into her bones.

Adam reached for her hand and pulled her up to a standing position.

“I wish JJ would give us a little more in terms of what he wants,” he muttered.

Daisy pulled her mouth into a tight smile and replied, “Well you know what he said. He wants us to decide how the moment should go. Says we know best about how our characters would have felt finally getting to this point.”

“And yet he’s obviously not happy with whatever we’re giving him.” Adam’s voice rose, but he relaxed his shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Sorry Dais, you know I’m not frustrated with you.” He offered her a small smile in repentance, his mouth barely angling up, but eyes filled with warmth.

Daisy playfully slapped his chest with her open hand. “Uh-huh. SURE.” She turned to walk away, smiling to herself as she heard him let out a low chuckle.

She walked off to the side, picked up her water bottle and raised it to her lips. She let it absently fill her up as she stared at Adam across the way. She couldn’t believe the warmth that was developing in her stomach again. Her cheeks followed closely behind as the familiar flush returned. She wanted to slap herself.

Leading up to this point, Daisy had thought herself finally over him. Had she and Adam shared intimate moments during their prior years filming together? Of course. Skellig Michael was an especially treasured moment. After all, there had been such a small group of cast and crew present. It had made it easy to pretend this wasn’t some crazy heavy-budget movie that was resting on her shoulders. “Don’t go through the crew like wildfire!” Carrie had warned. And she hadn’t. Adam wasn’t the crew. He was her co-star. And did she know in her logical mind about the infamous co-star syndrome? Of course, she did. She quickly reminded herself of a time back at Tring Park. She had started feeling a deep fondness and attraction to her costar back in Romeo and Juliet. But just as her lines and blocking points had faded from memory with time, so had her attraction.

This thing with Adam, however, had not. And it angered her. Confused her. Made her unsure of whether she could trust herself. Made her question if she had it in her to continue a career as an actress. Would she fall for every costar she ever had? Jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? No one would want to hire a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. A little voice deep inside had always told her that she was a fraud. That she didn't deserve to be in the presence of the great actors that she called friends and coworkers.

“You know… I’ve got this friend who’s working on casting ‘Into the Woods’. I could throw your name her way. I see you as the perfect Milky White.”

Suddenly, Daisy was snapped back to reality by a teasing voice to her right. She raised her eyebrows and side-eyed the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

“What?”

“You know. Because you just finished that water bottle in one swig and cows really love water,” Adam began to explain.

“I thought that was camels?”

“Nope. Cows.” He paused for a brief moment before adding in, “Yeah, definitely cows.”

“You’re an odd one, bestie,” she teased.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if I had a choice. Trust me, I’ve been trying to put up my distance, she thought.

Before she had a chance to respond with another snarky response, JJ called an end to their break.

Another deep breath.

“Shall we resume the most frustrating scene ever, then?” she asked Adam.

He shuffled his feet and gazed out to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Very true. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Ehhh, it’s all me. You’re perfect as always, Adam.” She blushed and ran off, chiding herself for acting like a stupid school girl.

Despite her embarrassment, the break must have helped. Only a few takes later, Daisy found herself in the most comfortable staring contest with Adam. It was a moment that she wished she could have frozen forever.

Except that she shouldn’t have been thinking of Adam. She should have been thinking of Ben.

At the realization that she was letting her personal feelings bleed into her acting, she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “DAMN IT," she shouted. "I’m so sorry everyone! This next one is it, I swear.”

Adam reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a small smile and she quietly cursed her heart. Its increasing pace threatened to give her secret away. “It’s okay," he said. "I feel it too. We’re almost there.”

Both of them were right, and JJ declared the last take as “THE ONE”. The room erupted with whooping and hollering. Everyone began circulating with hugs, thank-yous, and high fives. Daisy second-guessed going over to Adam, but knew it would be even more telling to avoid him.

When she reached him, she did her best to give a small hug. Adam, however, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter.

“Well, it’s been great,” she started. “Thank you so much. It’s truly been an honor to work with you, Adam.” Her eyes started to well, knowing things between them would never be the same again. Hell, they hadn’t been this whole time.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Adam’s words were barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“You know. For everything. For making things weird between us. I, I never should have -"

“Never should have what?” she challenged. Should have let me fall in love with you? Treated me like I was yours? Let me believe we could ever be more than this great act of pretend? Those last thoughts rattled at the gate of her mouth, but remained hers to keep.

He glanced down, unable to handle her gaze that begged him for words he couldn’t say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about Adam. It’s been nothing but the best professional experience.”

He winced, and for a moment, Daisy almost felt guilty. But the anger and pain returned swiftly. She felt all too happy to have made him feel what she imagined to be only a small fraction of her own torment.

“To our amazing leads!” someone toasted a few feet over. “I’ve worked on a lot of movies, and it’s rare we get two incredible actors like you both. You made me believe I was watching a true relationship unfold, not just two really well-acted characters. To Daisy and Adam! To making us believe in the unreal.”

Everyone cheered in agreement around them and Daisy felt her heart rise up to her throat.

Exactly Dais. The unreal.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle and Daisy could no longer stand to be around anyone. She gave them all a quick glance, muttered thanks and ran off. Once she returned to her dressing room, she turned her speakers back on. She started laughing through runny tears at the irony of Sigrid’s lyrics that filled the space.

When the curtain drops

Our touch is just a touch

Not like in the movies

Our story’s after the end

Like strangers

Perfect pretenders

We’re falling head over heels

For something that ain’t real

It could never be us, eh

Just you and I

Chapter 2 - Mine Right Now

Two Years Earlier

“Amazing work, both of you! Now go do something fun. Relaxing. Happy. Today’s scene was so emotionally taxing. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for any dark spiraling that follows today.”

“Oh, it's really alright. I take full responsibility for my own dark spiraling, Rian,” Adam joked.

“Well true as that may be, I am serious. You've both earned a night of not thinking about work. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Rian gave them both a quick hug before leaving them to finish gathering their things.

Daisy cleared her throat before she could back out. “So, what do you say, Driver? How about a little drinky poo?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her co-star suggestively before bursting into laughter.

“Sure. As long as you promise not to judge me for ordering a cocktail.”

Praying that her face wasn’t showing her utter shock, she continued to push her luck. “You’re kidding! You never go out! With the crew. With me. Mysterious Adam Driver slums it with Daisy Ridley? What would the missus think?!”

“Dais…” She watched as he ran his hands through his hair, certain that she had crossed a line.

“Sorry. So sorry. Uncalled for.”

“I just don't like to talk about Joa-, my wife a lot.”

Of course, he didn't. Not with coworkers at least. She was kidding herself to think they were anything more than that. Trying to salvage the situation, she asked, “Too late to throw in my white flag?”

He stared at her longer than he ever had outside of filming. “Not at all. But let's head out before it gets too late. I've got an early training session tomorrow.”

Relieved that she hadn't completely blown it, she felt her heartbeat pick back up. This was really about to happen. She was going to be alone with Adam and, by orders from the boss man himself - prohibited from talking about work. “Right, of course. I'll meet you outside in five?”

He gave her a small nod before turning to leave her to her things.

Her bag was already packed, but she used the next five minutes to compose herself. Tonight would be uncharted territory. Her relationship with Adam had grown into a fond friendship over the last two years. And so had her attraction to him. She rationalized it to herself as the intimacy of a truly trusting professional relationship. After all, they had to trust each other with abandon to pull off the demands of stunts and emotional scene work. Still, somewhere deep down she knew that for her, this was more than just trusting a coworker or friend. On the other hand, she could happily say that she wasn't the only one guilty of flirting now and again.

When she met him outside, he led her to his car. She was tired beyond her wits and grateful to have him drive.

“Where to?” He asked. “The Bridge Bar?”

“No. That's where the crew always goes.”

“Don't wanna be seen with the big bad villain, huh?”

“Yes. I mean, no!” Words escaped her as she tried to explain herself. “All I mean is that...I agree with Rian. Today was a lot. And I'd rather not have to socialize with anyone at the moment.”

“Oh. I can drive you back to the hotel, then. I just thought...since you had asked...that -”

“I'm trying to say I just want to be alone with you!” she blurted.

“Oh.” Her frustration built at Adam's sudden lack of articulation and her blatant confession.

“God. That sounded creepy as hell. Please, can we forget I ever opened my mouth? Just take me to get a drink somewhere, Adam. Anywhere but the Bridge Bar. Please.”

His eyes met hers for only a moment before he drove off with a quick nod.

The drive couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Yet somehow, it was both the longest and shortest stretch of time. Adam, apparently still shell shocked by his pushy costar, hadn't said anything to her. Well, except to point out a few key places of local history. Fear brewed in her stomach as she resigned herself to the fact that he would probably call his agent after this. He would make his agent promise that he'd never have to work with someone as unprofessional as her again.

The silence was good for one thing, though. She figured her career and their relationship, working or otherwise, were both soon to be over. So she used the time to check him out free of shame. She focused first on his hands. The way his fingers tapped like a pianist against the steering wheel at every stop. It made her wonder how they would feel tapping against her skin. His legs were still too large for the space, despite his seat being pulled back to the furthest setting. In fact, if she were to straddle him right now, she'd likely slide right down his thighs. It'd bring her right where she wanted to be, pressed up against his hardness. She pictured the intimacy of that position, how his face would be easily within her reach. How she could run her hands into his hair and bite down into his full lips. She'd be able to watch him lift an eyebrow at her, just like he was doing now.

Oh shit, like he was doing now. He had definitely caught her fantasizing about him.

He looked thoroughly amused. “Everything alright?”

“Course.” She refused to accept defeat and wrinkled her nose in defense. “Now stop staring at me like... THAT and let's go!”

An hour later, she was on her third pint and Adam was still nursing his first cocktail. She looked from his face to his glass and back.

“You make me feel like an alchy!”

He let a low chuckle. “I told you, I've got training early tomorrow. If I go any heavier than this, I'm going to regret it. Just trying to be responsible.”

“How about this right now? Coming out with me. Is it part of your plan to be responsible?” Oh...so aggressively-honest, drunk Daisy was here to play.

A small shake of his head. “ Honestly? Still haven't decided.”

“Is that why you never hang out with me?”

“No. You've just never invited me before.”

“That's not true!”

“In groups, yes... But you know me. I don't do…people. Large groups, anyways,” Adam shrugged.

“Does that mean if I had asked you and it was only us, you would've said yes?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I'm here tonight, aren't I?”

She poked him in the shoulder and elicited a small OWW. “I'm honestly quite mad now. That's critical intel you've been keeping from me. We could've been besties by now!” she whined.

“Besties, huh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Ok. Then we’re besties. Anything you want.”

Before she could catch it, the small suggestion escaped in a rasp she didn’t know she had. “Anything?”

He gulped and met her eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her giving in to years of repressed wants. She slowly got up from the table, still holding his gaze. She turned and started toward the back of the bar. The jury was still out on whether it was to leave the burn of his stare or to initiate something incredibly risky.

There wasn’t enough time to consider her motives when she felt her body go on high alert. The darkness of the hallway intensified all her other senses. She knew it was him even before his hand slid across her back to grip her waist. It was the way he walked so gently to avoid disturbing a space. The way he took slow calculated steps in consideration of everyone smaller than him.

Instead of turning her toward him, he closed their gap and brought his mouth down against her ear. She braced herself for the warmth of his lips but shivered as he spoke. “I’m a simple guy, Daisy. I don’t do games. I told you that you can have anything you want. And right now, I want to kiss you. Is that what you want?”

She turned around and tilted her head back to accommodate for how much bigger he was than her. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was almost magnetic, but she fought it. It was possible that she might not survive the electricity of feeling his skin under her fingers. His hands slid down to hold her by her hips, apparently just as stubborn as she was to avoid making the first move. Hurried breaths reached her ears but she didn’t know which of them it was coming from.

She felt him studying her face and instinctively bit down on her lower lip. He seemed to acknowledge this movement as an agreement. Before she could brace herself, he said “Fuck it” and crashed against her mouth.

As soon as he felt her melt into the kiss, there was nothing tender about his attack. Her fingers laced into his hair, urging his tongue to press harder against hers. Adam lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. At this angle, there was no doubt that he wanted this as badly as she did. She rolled her hips against his and the groan that escaped his mouth filled every hollow of her body.

It was more than she could have ever imagined. Tongues fought for dominance as they battled to memorize every curve and point of each other’s mouth. But it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew this need wasn’t one-sided, she was greedy and was going to take what she wanted.

“Bathroom,” she muttered against his lips. He understood immediately and walked them into the first door. Her bottom still sat against his forearms and legs wrapped around his waist. Once they entered, the lock of the door signaled more danger. The heat at her core grew.

She whimpered as he set her down, lamenting the loss of his body weight against hers. Her annoyance didn’t last long, though, as he flattened his palm between her legs.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Already there,” she huffed out.

“Trust me, Dais.” He smothered her with another cardiac arrest-inducing kiss. “This is only the surface of how good you and I can feel together.”

With that, he invaded her leggings as his middle finger ran up and down her wetness.

“Oh god. Adam, I-I. Please don’t stop.”

He continued his slow teasing as she watched him swallow. “I told you. Anything you want. But not even the apocalypse could stop me from stroking you right now.”

She laughed at him. “Only you could make me feel this turned on and ready to burst with laughter at the same time.”

“Only actively trying at one of those right now,” he grunted. “But happy to help.”

Her smile quickly faded as her chin dropped and a moan broke free.

His finger ran its way up to her clit before sliding back down to push into her entrance.

He absorbed her moan with his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers. She imagined him repeating the motion where his finger was now working. She clenched but soon released. As close as she was to the edge, she wasn’t willing to let him off this easily.

She rubbed her hand against the hardness threatening to break the fly of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a small whimper. She slowly pulled back, reaching to bring her leggings down to her knees. She turned to bend over against the sink.

“Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

She watched as Adam moved toward her slowly, each second that she waited for him feeling like torture. His hand found her entrance again, now sliding in two fingers. He pumped into her slower this time, leaning over her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna fuck you here in this bathroom. I’ve thought about this for too long to end it with a quickie. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

She worked her hips against his hand for a bit longer before accepting defeat. Immediately, part of her worried that he was using this as an excuse to break off whatever this was. But another part considered what could happen within the walls of a hotel room.

The drive back felt like punishment. The only thing that stopped her from worrying was the fact that she felt the buzz of his need for her in the air. Every glance he threw her way was full of hunger. She thanked all her lucky stars that he had only had one drink. Having to walk back to the hotel would’ve taken even longer and would’ve surely put a stop to this.

Once they got to the hotel, they navigated the lobby and hallway with caution. They both knew to keep their distance. Without discussion, she led him to her room, making out with him as soon as his tall frame was through the threshold.

Hands on his belt, she inched backward toward her bed. Suddenly, she felt Adam pull back.

His hands ran through his hair, a sure tell of his discomfort.

“We shouldn't be doing this. I've been so good at trying to keep things professional between us. From the very first table read, I saw you and knew I had to be careful. It helped to remind myself that this was your first big film. But this second film has been different. So much more comfortable. Like we’ve known each other forever. I find myself constantly wanting to be around you. Telling myself that you’ve got no reason outside of work to spend time with me is a daily routine. But then you invited me out and I got high on the thought that someone like you might want me, too. But I let it get too far. This was a mistake. I should go.”

She couldn’t believe the audacity he had to tell her those things. Her face flushed, no longer from being turned on, but instead from anger.

“Well fuck you, Adam. You're a FUCKING COWARD!”

He matched the disgust in her voice. “I'm fucking married, Daisy.”

“Oh, I'm well aware. Every day that I pretend it's only my character that's pulled toward you? I remind myself you're married. On the days we don't work together and I sit wishing you were there with me? I remind myself you're married. It might as well be tattooed on my bloody tongue considering how many times I have to tell myself. So don't pretend you're doing me a favor by telling me something that does absolutely nothing to stop me from wanting you !”

She panted with exasperation.

“It should.”

“Well, it doesn't. I’m not asking for forever, Adam. I’m just asking you to be mine right now. I know how this plays out. I always have. And spoiler alert, in no version of our story does it end with you and I walking hand in hand through a hardware store, picking out wallpaper for our future child's room. It does, however, always end with me in England and you going back to HER,” she spat out. “So either hand me that bottle of tequila so I can forget this ever happened or be a man and finish what you fucking started. ”

The hunger was back in his eyes as they dared each other to blink first.

“I'm going to hell for this,” he said through gritted teeth, taking a step toward her.

“I'll see you there,” she smirked.

Clothes flew off in a race as they stumbled onto the bed. She laid back and gasped when she saw how big he was.

Adam worked to cover her entire body with kisses that she was convinced would leave marks. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked absently, lightly grazing her nipple with his teeth.

She struggled to focus, her desire battling with any coherent thoughts.

“I have a, a condition” she breathed out between moans.

“Ok,” he acknowledged, moving on to treat her second nipple to the same attention.

“It-it makes it painful for me to take anything...anyone...too...OH MY GOD. Too deep.” He blew against her nipple as she tried to finish. “And... I think ...you would get very deep.”

A smirk stretched across his face. “Then you let me know if it’s too much.” His fingers found her folds again, dripping with her need to feel him. “How should I take you?”

“Any way you want,” she breathed out. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

Adam began to look around and she realized what he was looking for.

“Oh. And I, uh, have an IUD because of the condition. It’s actually easier for me to take you if you don’t wear a condom.”

He growled, then grabbed his length in his hand and began rubbing himself against her opening. She could feel her need coating him. She lifted her hips and he accepted her offer with a slow thrust into her center. He filled her like no one had before, except maybe a toy her sister had gifted her as a gag gift.

“Daisy…” he moaned, his solid biceps holding himself up to keep from penetrating her too deeply.

He stayed there just like that for a while, wrapped by her and taking short breaths. Knowing that he was probably nervous to hurt her sent a pang to her heart.

“I. You. You feel so good. You can give me more,” she pleaded. “Not deeper, just, it feels so good when you slide in me.”

Still balancing his weight over her body, he began to fuck into her faster. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rubbed my cock wishing it were you around me,” he said.

She squeezed in response. He responded by pulling out and sliding back in agonizingly slow.

Her patience had left her from the moment he touched her in the bar hallway. She began to move her hips in a figure-eight motion, urging him to leave his mark in every part of her. He took her hint and picked up his tempo, being happily rewarded with her repetitive moaning of his name.

Adam stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He had a unique way of making her feel nothing and everything all at once. It was a feeling she could get used to, even feel possessive over. And with that thought, she cursed herself for confusing this for something more. She zoned back into reality and pushed against his shoulder while using her hips to flip him over. He groaned in delight at the position change and she ground into his hardness. Anxious to rid the moment of any sentiment, she began bouncing up and down along his length. He ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. He continued to move inward until his thumb found her clit, palm still resting flat against her stomach. God, the size of this man was enough to make her come.

Feeling her pick up speed, he urged her on. “Come for me, Daisy. Let yourself go on this hard cock. You love how hard I am for you, don’t you?” He continued rubbing soft circles into her clit. Matched with his words, it was enough for her to cry out his name.

She unraveled onto his chest just as she felt him grunt and fill her. Waves of satisfaction continued to pass as they laid together. He cradled her against him as they waited for their breaths to slow.

He slowly lifted her off of him and turned her to face him. He kissed her softly and lay his head back against the pillow. His eyes seemed to search hers for answers on how to handle this transition back into reality. Not having a clue, she chose the easy way out and turned her back to him to lay on her side. Adam took it as an invitation for another level of intimacy. Her whole body tensed and released as she felt him lay tiny kisses behind her ear. He worked downwards, finally settling his chin into the crook of her neck. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

She sighed, knowing what she needed to do. “3, 2, 1. Okay. Here goes. I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“No, you just finished doing the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life like...two minutes ago.”

“Wow. What a terribly awful innuendo that was.”

“But not untrue?” he teased.

“I’m serious. Adam, as much as it pains me to say this. I think you should go. This was truly...unbelievable. Like, really, really, good. But like I said, I don't expect anything else from this. From you. But if you stay the night...I just might get confused.”

“No.”

“No? Not really up for debate. Go.” She used all her strength to push the giant out of her bed.

He stood but didn’t make any movement to get ready. “I won’t.”

She threw on her sternest face and blinked slowly. “I’m saying you have to.”

Undeterred by her insistence, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and settled it against her lips. “Shh, you’re mine right now.”

That was enough to make her give up her fight and pull his face down to hers. They resumed their earlier position as he turned her onto her side. His body spooned hers protectively and he planted a gentle kiss against her shoulder. It seemed to be his new favorite spot. Her stomach dropped and filled with fear and guilt. She closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon - knowing it was too late to avoid the crash and burn.

Chapter 3 - Don’t Feel Like Crying

Daisy’s alarm went off on her phone as she dragged the starched hotel pillow over her head.

“Shut up, you!”

She fumbled to find the source of her disturbance and squeezed until the ringing stopped. It was still dark out and she didn’t know who she had pissed off to be called in at such a god-awful hour.

She was being dramatic.

In actuality, she knew she hadn’t angered anyone. Strange hours were a well-known consequence of her chosen profession. But she also knew her internal body clock wasn't wired for this.

Over the past month, Daisy hadn’t spent more than three nights in a single bed. As she glanced in the mirror, she could see it was beginning to take a toll on her. She adored the world of professional acting - but, the press and promos? Not so much. I’ll be looking 40 before I even turn 30, she thought, reaching for her eye cream.

She moved like a zombie through her hotel room, choosing vegan snacks and a tea tumbler in place of brains. Today was going to be another long stretch, but in a few more days, it would all be over.

Over. What a strange concept that was. She allowed herself to think back to the very first press tour for The Force Awakens. It was all so new and exciting back then. It had been nerve-wracking of course, but there was also something so special about that time. Her heart twinged as she remembered that year with fondness. In spite of the whirlwind of interviews, red carpets, and photoshoots, she had formed new bonds. It was a time of getting to know her castmates, crew members, hair and makeup artists.

And him, her ugly conscience reminded her.

Right. Him.

He had slightly more experience than her when it came to the press, but that didn’t make him hate it any less. Like her, he had never done anything on so large a scale. The pressure to be someone that both kids and adults could relate to was a different kind of terrifying. Naturally, they had latched onto one another. Her delightful inexperience with the industry offset his social unease and aloof tendencies. They would find ways to make each other laugh after answering the same question for the tenth time that day. Late nights were spent walking through foreign cities in disguises. Forced together by a job, they had become close friends.

And then there was the filming of The Last Jedi. Friends soon grew into something more. There was a closeness between them, the kind one would find between childhood mates. A sense of protection and duty to the other. Yet, too fused with desire to call it platonic. There was no proper label for what they were. Not when there was a stifling awareness of their complex situation. After that first night together, they had spent a few more weeks in a bubble of their own. It wasn’t all smiles, but it was all theirs.

Still, she wasn’t wrong when she had told him, “In no version of our story does it end with you and I…”

They had both seen the ending from the start. He had tried to pull away before it even began. She had tried to protect her heart by keeping it fun. In the end, none of that did anything to lessen the pain.

“Daisy,” he whispered over the phone. She could tell he had been drinking. The sun was beginning to wake London which meant it was the middle of the night in New York.

“Joanne’s pregnant,” he forced out.

Any other time, she would have made a smartass comment about his voice cracking. But now, no words rose.

She heard him take a few more breaths as if he was going to say more. When she continued to sit there in silence, he began again.

“I know we were supposed to meet up but –“

It was too much. Daisy hung up the call and threw her phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce onto the floor. Her body shook violently as tears spilled out. A buzz against the hardwood signaled another incoming call. She didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screamed into the empty apartment. Unintelligible cries came out in waves, sounding more hoarse and strained as they went on.

Minutes, then hours passed until she finally went numb.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” Somehow, Daisy had made it from her hotel room into the elevator, whose doors now opened to the lobby. She wondered how long she had been stuck here in her memories.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry to hold you up.”

She left the elevator and threw on a smile. This is your dream, Daisy. Remember? The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters.

The day had been a blur of photoshoots, interviews, and trials for tomorrow’s premiere look. In theory, she should’ve been very tired by now. Yet, she lay on top of her covers nursing nervous energy. What did she have to be nervous about?

Besides everyone hating the movie that you’re at the center of? she thought.

It seemed her old friend, anxiety, was right on schedule.

She considered heading to the gym. Maybe she could work off the negative energy. But this was Los Angeles, not London. She was sure to be mobbed, disguise or not. Her phone vibrated on the side table and she reluctantly stole a glance.

Joanne will be with me tomorrow at the premiere. Looking forward to seeing you. - A

The nausea and shortness of breath that followed confirmed a fear. She was, in fact, nervous about more than just the reception of the film.

---

“Come, everyone! I need more selfies to remember you all by!”

It was a fact that no one could ever deny Joonas his selfies. There were kind people in the world, good people, even - and then there was Joonas. Daisy paused mid-conversation with John to squeeze in for the photo. Adam turned around from his discussion as well and offered her a small smile. Her stomach felt like it was filling with helium until she shook her head and body into submission. She responded with a small “hello” before turning her gaze to Joonas’ phone.

Joonas studied the photo with pleasure and brought his friends in for a quick hug. He asked them what they had been up to since they last saw one another. Their answers went unheard when his manager came to steal him away. John's agent soon followed and he checked in with Daisy with his eyes. "I'll see you in a bit, Peanut?" She feigned contentment and gave a small nod.

The unease washed over her again when Daisy was finally alone with Adam.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Dais.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. You look quite handsome as well.”

Pleasantries continued and she hardly recognized the words she was hearing. She and Adam despised small talk. This wasn't them. But then again, "them" was a long-forgotten memory.

At the realization, Daisy sighed and dropped her guard. Her eyes darkened. “Why did you text me, Adam?”

“Oh. I wasn't sure if you had received it.”

“Why,” she repeated, losing her patience.

“I don’t know. I thought you should know. That you might...want to know?” He was starting to gesture his hands wildly and she knew she had caught him off guard. “I...after the way we left off at the end of filming...I thought you might want to...prepare yourself? But that was presumptuous of me, I’m sorry. You’re clearly okay. Very okay. ”

When she didn’t respond, Adam scratched the back of his neck. “So uh, I got a chance to see bits of interviews you’ve done. You didn’t have to say all those nice things, you know. Especially after everything that happened.”

“Why not? There’s no point in lying. Also, it’s strange,” she paused. “Cause you see, whenever I’m in an interview and someone asks me something, and I go oh! There was that one time that Adam and I - And at first I would think, God, you can’t share that, Dais! You’ll look like a lovesick puppy. All the headlines will read, Daisy Ridley, a Fool for Her Co-star? But then I decided that I didn't care. That as long as I had all these memories, really fun and dear ones - it meant that it was real.”

“Of course it was real.”

She led him into a smaller hallway. This conversation was never part of the plan, but she knew that any news of it could hurt both her and Adam in a way that would be unsalvageable.

“How can you be so sure? You’re the one who walked away.”

“That’s not fair. You never gave me a chance to figure it out.”

“Bloody hell, Adam. There was nothing to figure out. When you called me to tell me you were going to be a father, you’d already made your choice. You only called because, in some sick, twisted way, you were hoping for my permission. You needed me to tell you it was okay.”

“No, I needed you to know how complicated it was.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face the wall. “The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters,” she whispered.

"What was that?"

She turned back, ignoring him and taking in his contorted expression. She straightened her spine and began. “I promised myself I was past this. So yes. It WAS complicated. But now - it’s not. There has to be something there for things to be complicated.”

“It’s still complicated for me,” he bit out.

“Please...just stop. Look, you were right. Just like always, you’re right. Between seeing you here and being sent everywhere to perform a dog and pony show, I’m not okay. Not even close. But being out here doing all this right now? The promotion and press - it's somehow the only thing helping me keep it together. As long as I’m busy, I don’t feel like crying."

He continued to stare at her but didn't venture a response. It seemed he no longer wished to argue, just listen.

She went on. "Don’t get me wrong. I understand how stupid I sound, whining about all of it. I understand the immense luck I’ve had that I get to do this for a living. You taught me that. But...I think I just need to be home for a bit. Need to lock myself up for a while. Sure, I’ll keep grinding it out and praying that someone sees me beyond this...circus. Get employed and all. But I just need a break.”

His eyes hadn’t left hers, so she broke the contact and spoke at her hands which she'd been wringing unknowingly.

“So please, let me go out there and do the old song and dance. Hug my friends, say goodbye to the role. Then I’ll go home to London and we'll never have to see each other again.”

“You can’t know that," his voice emerged, shaken by the finality of her statement.

She smiled gently and raised her eyes once more. “But I do. Everyone does. You and I no longer run in the same circles. You are...a force of nature, Adam. Like the ocean. You're reckless. Dangerous. But so damn beautiful to watch. Leaving a mark on everything you touch simply by being yourself. Me though, I'm just a rock that got swept up in your tide. Inevitably and forever changed by you, but unable to leave any impressions in return.”

She felt the heat forming behind her eyes and turned to leave before small droplets betrayed her. He grabbed for her hand but she pulled away in time. "Don't go," he whispered.

She turned with a final glance. "Thank you for everything, Adam. I don't regret a thing. But you don't get to decide things for me anymore."

Chapter 4 - Home to You

The sea air assaulted all her senses and she closed her eyes to let it wash over her. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe without struggle. Sure, the air was humid and rain was guaranteed to be waiting in the wings. But, it was freeing to be outside with absolutely no agenda.

She laughed.

That wasn't entirely true. She did have an agenda. But it was one all her own. This visit was all about leaving the bubble that her life has become, even if just for a few moments. It was about moving on. About liking herself again.

She had planned this trip a couple of months ago. She would have forgotten about it had her sisters not reminded her.

“Hush your beak, Dais,” Kika said. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Am I?"

“Completely. You're not going to die a miserable, lonely, spinster.”

“I didn't say miserable and lonely!” She glared at her flesh and blood.

“Both of you. That's enough,” Poppy chimed in. “But Daisy, I do agree. Just because it sucks right now doesn't mean you're out of luck for the rest of your life. You made the right choice.”

“Breaking off an engagement. I'm the quintessential dumb millennial,” Daisy groaned.

“No, dumb would've been ignoring your true feelings. Your energy deserves to exist unbound. So do you.”

“But I don't feeeeeel unbound. I feel like some sort of gross hairball just stuck there waiting to be coughed out whenever the cat deems ready.”

Kika snorted and Poppy soon followed. Both her sisters unraveled into fits of giggles. After throwing a pillow at Kika's head, Daisy joined in.

The night had gone much like this. Tears, giggles, refill wine glasses. Repeat.

Daisy caught her breath from the laugh attack and sighed. “So what do I do now? Shut everyone out and vanish to a secluded place to find myself? ‘Eat Pray Love’ this out?”

“That's not a terrible idea,” said Poppy.

“I was only kidding. Mine isn't exactly a life you just walk out on without heavy speculation. Not even Joaquin Phoenix quit acting successfully.”

“Always the drama queen, Dais,” Kika muttered with a roll of her eyes. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a vacation. Just a small one. Go. Grab your laptop. Let's find you someplace nice.”

Where to go? Where to go? she thought to herself. Her sisters chimed in with suggestions but she insisted on making the choice herself.

In a fog of restlessness, hurt, and nostalgia, she clicked away to her heart’s content. Thirty minutes later, she shut the lid. “Done,” she smiled, feeling victorious.

After reading the confirmation email the next morning, she considered canceling it. Choosing to travel there was a bad idea. Her finger hovered over the button as she thought about it more. There was a possibility that this could be the closure she needed to begin the next chapter of her life.

“Good morning!” a man called out. Daisy snapped out of her daydream and greeted the man she assumed was her driver.

“We're heading to Dingle, correct?”

An inhale. Then an exhale. It's too late to back out now, she told herself. “Yes. Thank you so much,” she answered with a smile.

---

A week and a half had passed since she had arrived in Ireland. She sat with her morning tea and sipped it, taking in how at peace she felt. She felt like the old Daisy, again. Or maybe a new one. It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so present in a moment.

Her stay hadn’t been all magical. The prior week was a different picture in all respects. Like torrential rains, Daisy was never at balance. One second, she felt euphoria from being in one of her favorite places. The next, only bittersweet flashbacks of memories to a time spent with someone who wasn't hers.

Phone in hand, she stared at the photo of the cliffside she had snapped on her drive the day before. It was nondescript enough - and she wasn't in it. But he would know where it was.

She only had a few days left before going home and she had been toying with the idea of reaching out to him for closure. During a sob-filled emergency phone session, her therapist had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But Daisy wanted to. Was determined to. Where better than from here, the place they had first fallen into this mess? She wanted to rewrite the narrative and make new memories in this place. She wanted to return home without burden.

Saw this view and couldn't help thinking of you. She deleted the words and tried again. While it was true, she had to establish boundaries. She didn't want him to think she was opening up the door to anything unhealthy. This was about making peace with the past and trying to relearn a friendship with him.

Recognize this? she typed. “That seems harmless enough,” she told herself.

“1, 2, 3, SEND!” Her finger froze. She got up and walked onto the balcony. She hoped some fresh air would give her the nerve. She repeated the countdown again. “You’ve got this, Dais!”

She couldn’t do it. She jumped up and down, shaking her limbs to pump herself up.

“OH SHIT,” she exclaimed as her phone slipped from her fingers. She caught it with a pincer grasp and made a mental note to thank her trainer for her quick reflexes. She kissed her phone in relief.

Then she saw it.

Her clumsiness had done it for her. She had sent the text.

“Well. That’s that, then.” Daisy tucked her phone back into her pocket knowing there was nothing she could do now.

After dinner, she drew herself a bath and poured a glass of wine. Her phone buzzed. She had forgotten to turn off the ringer.

“AGH. Who’s bothering me?” She reached to turn it off but stopped when she saw the notification. Adam had responded. Throughout the course of the day, she had forgotten about her text to him. Or her subconscious was working overtime to protect her if he didn’t text back.

How could I forget? I embarrassed myself soon after with shitty poetry recitation.

Though alone, she blushed. She had taken the photo because the view was breathtaking and so uniquely Dingle. She hadn’t sent it with the intention of reliving that afternoon. But now she couldn’t think of anything but. And the fact that Adam had brought it up sent a pulse straight to her core.

She closed her eyes and slid her hand downward. What started out that day years ago as an innocent request evolved at high speed.

They sat in the rental car staring out at Dunquin Harbor. He had just returned from Cannes to promote Paterson.

“What was filming that like? Quite different than this, I gather?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Different type of film. Very little dialogue -”

“Wait, so actually very similar!”

Adam chuckled. “Paterson was very much a listener and a man of few words. Verbally, at least. His poetry is where the audience learns who he is.”

“Right! Tell me more about poetry!”

He rolled his lips inward. “Uh, what about it? I didn’t really know much going in, but meeting Ron Padgett, the poet who wrote the original poetry in the film was great. And Jim Jarmusch actually studied it in college. So yeah, definitely new for me.”

“So you spent some time studying some of this Ron guy’s work before you went into filming?”

“Among others. But, yes. It was helpful.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

“Yeah...let’s not,” he shied away.

She pulled out her phone and typed in “Ron Padgett poems” as he tried to change the subject. He called attention back to the landscape in front of them. She clicked through on a link and extended her phone to him.

“Here. Read it to me.”

He pulled a face.

“Please? It’s like a table read. But just for me.” She smiled and his mouth mirrored hers.

He squeezed her forearm affectionately before agreeing. “Only a little.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” she smirked, feeling quite pleased with herself.

“How to Be Perfect. By Ron Padgett."

“Get some sleep.” His thumb began stroking her forearm.

“Don't give advice.” He grazed his fingertips up her arm to draw circles around her shoulder.

“Take care of your teeth." A small kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“And gums.” Another to the opposite corner.

“Don't be afraid of anything,” his mouth met her temple.

“Beyond your control.”

“Don't be afraid.” A gentle stroke of her hair.

“For instance,”

“That the building,” he traced the line of her clavicle.

“Will collapse.” His fingers teased the sensitive skin of her neck.

“As you sleep.” A kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Or that someone - ” A quick bite of her lobe.

“You love,” he kissed her mouth tenderly.

“Will suddenly drop dead.” A small smile pulled at his mouth.

He took his hand and ran it down her body, stopping where her legs met.

“Eat an orange every morning.” He lifted her dress.

“Be friendly.” He teased her now with his index and middle finger in a V, rubbing soft strokes against the outer edge of her desire.

“It will help make you happy.” He brushed his hand across her clit and her breath caught in her throat.

“Raise your pulse rate.” Another brush.

“To 120 beats per minute.” Then pressure.

“For 20 straight minutes.” He rubbed up and down slowly.

“Four or five times a week - ” She raised her hips to grind against him faster. He laughed and removed his hand.

“Doing anything - ” She whined.

“You enjoy.” He returned his hand.

“Hope,” a finger pushed into her.

“for everything.” A deeper exploration of her.

“Expect nothing.” He withdrew himself.

He dropped the phone and took her face in his hands. He took her mouth like a man drinking his last sip of water before heading out into the scorching desert. His hand slid back down her torso, reading her need for release.

She put her phone down and let her own fingers roam downwards. She sighed as she softly teased herself, trying to mimic the light touches he had used. Ok, so closure may be harder than anticipated , she thought. Resigning to try again tomorrow, she put the phone down to focus on her pleasure. A reply could wait until then.

---

When she gathered the courage to respond to him the next day, she was filled with relief. Their exchange was easy and amicable. The familiarity comforted her like a childhood blanket.

She continued to update him about her trip. He laughed at the right moments and chided her the way any good friend would.

I don’t want to leave 😢, she typed to him.

Where are you headed next?

Home. I fly into Heathrow tomorrow. I’m not ready to be a proper adult again.

Ehh, I don’t think there’s such a thing. We’re all just faking it.

Thanks, friend. Any suggestions for my last night here in good ol Dingle?

A huge bacon cheeseburger.

You suck.

She laughed at his teasing. This was good. A healthy good. She wasn't even upset that she had to pack the mess that had accumulated over her stay.

---

Daisy walked off the plane and blinked in succession. There was Adam, attempting to look inconspicuous in a hoodie and sneakers.

“Oh. Hey, Adam. Are you...stalking me?”

“Kind of. I asked Kika for your flight information.”

Her phone started ringing. “Oh. This is awkward, but I've got a driver waiting to pick me up. It’s really nice to see you? But I have to go.”

He laughed nervously. “I...was kind of hoping you would let me go with you. I've got no other way of getting back.”

“Uh. Sure. Why not?”

---

An hour later, she thanked the driver and headed up to her apartment. Adam trailed behind with her bags. She unlocked the door to her apartment and gestured for him to enter.

“So, what brings you to London?” she began.

“I’m actually in France for the next month filming for a Ridley Scott movie.”

"Heh." An awkward laugh. “I knew that. I don’t know why I asked. I just didn’t wanna sound like a stalker. Then again, you showed up waiting outside my plane so I guess we’re both creepers now.”

He smiled. She melted.

“So...I’m not gonna lie...when I got your text - ”

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Hold that thought. This is kind of rude of me to cut you off. You’re a guest in my home and all. But I really need to do something first. And it’s going to be very awkward but just bear with me through it. Okay? Please?”

“I’m the one who intruded on your day so please, go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. Be strong, Dais, she reminded herself.

“When I was in Ireland, I wrote you a letter.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going to be a lot, but I don’t know that I’ll have the balls to read this again. And right now, for some godforsaken reason, I feel like I can do it.”

“You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

“No, I’m going to.”

“Okay. Should I...turn around?” he suggested.

“No no. Just go ahead and sit down.”

Adam looked down, shifting his gaze from one edge of the chair to the other. He was already seated but was too polite to note that. “I will sit.”

Daisy walked over to her handbag and pulled out a paper folded into quarters. She hoped he didn’t notice how worn it looked. Proof that she had fumbled with it more times than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She offered him a silent thanks for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn around,” she muttered.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Adam said.

Her pulse was racing. “Here goes."

"Dear Adam,

I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken right now. I know the last time we spoke, I told you I was past it, but we both know that was just me trying to put some distance between us. I’m gutted even thinking about the way you asked me to stay. It makes me want to cry all over again (which I’ve been doing a lot of over here).

It’s been REALLY hard to make all my feelings go away, which is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m desperate to do something, anything, to get proper closure and move on.

Saying goodbye to you feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself. That’s silly, though. What’s that saying? You can’t lose something that was never yours? Trying to let you go feels like trying to quit an addiction. Which I guess makes Dingle my rehab center (a really lovely one though).

Looking back at everything with 2020 vision (haha, get it? 2020?) - I was fucked from the start. Meeting you was completely life-altering in a way baby Dais could have never expected. You were so REAL in a blur of superficiality. Latching onto you felt like a way of holding onto reality. A tether to the tangible when everything and everyone else wanted to turn me into someone I wasn't ready to be.

And I think you felt that too, in a way. Which is how we fell so easily into friendship. I truly do think that what we had started off innocently, and I’m grateful you were there for it all.

But I’m also SO angry with you. I fell in love with you. And you let me. And for that - I want to scream at everyone and everything. IT'S SHIT. I know it’s not fair to place all the blame on you. But I was in my early 20s and the less experienced of us. I misplaced our mutual understanding onto something more. But as someone with a wife, you should’ve fought harder to push me away. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you insult me until I hated you? Why did you say nice things to me in private and let me play make-believe?

My feelings for you were so obvious that anyone could have seen them from a mile away. I suspect most did. I was so hopeful that if I was patient and attentive, you might drop everything for me with a grand gesture. But eventually, I learned that that’s not who you are. I know you’ve struggled with many relationships in the past, both romantic and otherwise. Frankly, I think part of you finds romantic feelings uncomfortable. I don’t say it to be cruel, but I simply care for you and think maybe someone needs to say it. I don’t like that I tried to change you - it wasn’t my place. It isn’t anyone’s.

But onto the positive. Cause that’s what all this is supposed to be about. Typical Dais, unable to stay on task.

Loving you, as painful as it was, also taught me so much about myself. Professionally, being around you made me a better performer. I was so set on being a worthy scene partner. Your instincts always pushed me to find authenticity in everything. Your humbled way of approaching the business is still unlike anyone else’s I've met. I’ll always try to maintain these things as I go forward.

As a...romantic partner? You made me feel seen. As I’ve tried to move on with others, I always felt I’ve had to hide parts of me. Yes, our situation...fuck, let’s call it what it was. Our affair - was based on hiding. But only because of its nature. Behind closed doors, you accepted me in my entirety. The goofiness, the grotesque parts, the darker ideations. I never had to hide these parts with you. So in a way, loving you, then losing you, taught me that it shouldn’t have to feel controlled with the right person. I shouldn’t have to be a budget version of myself to be loved.

If these are truly the last words I say to you (even if not in actuality. Cause I’m a melt and may not even send this). Just a few thoughts. I am so proud of you. The awards and Ben Solo campaign are proof that the world finally sees what I’ve always known. You are a once in a lifetime type of human. I know you hate it - the recognition, but you deserve it. And so much more. I truly hope you’re happy. I know I’m trying to be.

All my love, Daisy”

When she mustered up the strength to turn around, she didn’t know if she was seeing straight. Through her watery eyes, it looked like Adam was crying, too.

“Daisy,” was all he said. He got up and walked toward her, taking her into his arms. Silent tears fell between them, darkening their clothing.

“I can’t lie. When you first texted me, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d see your name in my phone for...Well, I didn’t know that I’d see it again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Can I tell you something? It's actually why I came to see you.” He asked.

“Sure.” Her head was still pressed against his chest.

“I don’t expect you to say anything in response, but...Joanne and I separated. My PR will be announcing it in the next couple of months now that award season is over.”

“Oh,” was all that she could say.

“Yeah.”

“I called off the engagement. To Tom. He understood that my heart was never fully in it.”

“He did?”

“Alright, maybe not right away. But yes. He's all moved out. I think we might be able to be friends again, eventually.”

Adam looked around at the apartment for the first time. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, just little old me again.”

The energy in the apartment shifted and Adam tilted her chin up. He kissed her gently at first as if to test the waters. When she opened her mouth to take more of him in, his attack became more fierce. She matched his kisses, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was a deadly cocktail of heartache, longing, and love.

She couldn’t get enough of him. The ache for him, both his heart and his growing hardness returned. It was like riding a bike. The solace of revealing every last feeling to him increased her desire. She no longer feared the ache of having him. Only the absence of his weight on her.

He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her stomach.

She felt him shimmy her pants down her ass. He laid soft kisses on each cheek before sliding his tongue up between them. Her whole body trembled as he explored every forbidden part of her.

“OH MY GOD,” she cried out.

Her encouragement was all he needed. He adjusted her knees so he could access her more easily. A small rub of her clit. A lapping of her juices. Then back to licking up into her from front to back. She had never had anyone taste her puckering hole before. She thought she might come right there. She reached back to pull at his hair and covered him with her release.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She had claimed him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, she needed more of this feeling.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, guiding it into herself. It had been so long since she had felt him. She forgot how deep he could feel. She squeezed him in. Further. Then further. His hair fell on his face and she reached up to push it back.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him up and down his neck. This made him go crazy and he took her with even more force. She felt split in two. He grabbed her breasts as he held his rapid pace. He returned the favor and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“ADAM. I’M COMING,” she announced.

She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed him in one last time. “DAISY. FUUUCK.” He collapsed onto her, their sweat and tears now indistinguishable.

A moment later, she came back to her senses. “Goddamnit,” Daisy said, staring at the ceiling. “That was not supposed to happen.”

Adam rolled over. “Why does it matter? We’re both single now. We can be together.”

“We can’t,” she insisted. “We can't just start over when we, THIS, started from a place of lies and hiding.”

“Who the hell cares, Dais? Whose business is it but ours?”

“Even you know it's not that easy.”

He growled. “I know that none of that changes how I feel about you. People-pleasing is a game for those that lack understanding of their core selves.”

“Ugh. You sound so pretentious!!”

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little confused. We're both single and now we can't be together?? Was I only appealing to you when I was married? Help me understand this shit because I sure as hell can't.”

She got off the bed and began throwing his clothes at him. “The fact you would even suggest that is infuriating. You need to go. I've said my piece. That was all this was about. There's no reset button to any of this.”

Fully dressed, he stopped at her bedroom door. He looked ready to punch the wall. At the last moment, he opened his fist. It was almost as if he realized he had done enough damage for the day. Instead, his heavy hand slammed against the door frame.

He continued on and reached for the front doorknob. He looked back at her and she shuddered. She had seen him angry and frustrated, but had never been the one in his sights.

With a slam of the door, he left.

She began crying. So much for closure, she thought. Daisy searched for her phone and debated calling her mum or sisters. But then, a sudden cold sweat came on. She would have to admit what had happened. She dropped the phone. She wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

Sometime later, a knock at her door startled her from her stupor. She panicked. Security knew better than to let anyone up without her prior approval.

She heard a throat clear and then a thud. Much like a stray limb hitting the hard surface. “OW.”

The voice was unmistakable. She opened the door.

She looked at him and stared blankly. Her eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing here?

He extended a dark chocolate bar toward her.

“Hi. I'm Adam.”

“What?” She stared at him like tiny giraffes were dancing on his shoulders.

He shushed her and started again. “Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you. At the risk of looking like an ass...can I take you out? I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about this.”

Finally understanding him, she smiled.

#daiver #adam x daisy #adam driver x daisy ridley #realpersonfic #real person fic #rpf #im literally trying to chase you away if this isn't your ish #daiver rpf #mine #adamsy #adaisy #fanfic

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