#The potential or Angst and Crack fills me with inspiration!

[bet-on-me-13]

The Summoner

So! Danny is not the Ghost King.

But he still has a good relationship with a LOT of Powerful and not-so-powerful Ghosts in the Zone. So much so that they have given him their Summoning Circle's with a blanket permission to Summon them any time. Not like they have much else going on...

This all leads to a hilarious situation where Danny can't use his Powers for whatever reason and is forced to Summon his friends for help. In front of a group of Heroes.

He has to explain everything to them, but accidentally convinces them that he has Summoning Magic and the Ghosts are all on his Contract. He also mentions Saving people from Ghosts and the JLA realize that he is a child Hero.

They ask him if he wants to join Young Justice, and Danny hesitantly agrees.

Now Danny is on Young Justice and the entire team thinks that he is a Hero with Ghost Summoning Magic.

And his name isn't Daniel "Commit to the Bit" Fenton for no reason.

[loverhymeswith]

'Cause I'd Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing at All

Pairing: Rick Flag x GN!Reader

Summary: Inspired by the Three Days Grace song of the same name, this is an angsty little drabble that has been sitting in my drafts for a few months.

Word Count: 829

Warnings: Description of injury, angst

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Despite your clenched jaw, the lie slips out easily. Still, you avoid eye contact with Rick as he examines your bruised and swollen hand; his uncanny ability to read your emotions won’t serve you well right now. If he thinks for one minute that you’re badly injured, you’ll wind up on desk duty faster than you can say Bloodsport. That is, if either of you make it out of here alive.

“Really?” The word stretches out into the darkness, filling what little space there is between you. “Because it looks pretty damn bad to me.”

With so much cynicism lacing the colonel’s tone, your eyes involuntarily flicker upwards, landing on his familiar worry-worn face, illuminated as it is by the weak orange glow of your twin torches. Shadows dance across his battle-scarred features, eerily emphasising all his sharp curves and edges – a Picasso painting brought to life, albeit temporarily.

Thanks to the explosion rocking the building only minutes earlier, the two of you are trapped in what had once been the ground-floor comms-room, a mountain of rubble outside the door now separating you - somewhat ironically - from your squad of deadly prisoners. Those prisoners are undoubtedly enjoying their fleeting moment of freedom at your expense. If this situation doesn’t kill you, Amanda Waller surely will.

“Really. It’s probably just a sprain.” You tap the cracked GPS device somehow still strapped to your injured wrist and send out a silent prayer that Harley and the others will try to find you. And soon. Much like your ongoing attempt to convince Rick that you’re ok, the signal -- and your hope -- is weak.

The second lie draws Rick’s attention away from your hand, his hazel eyes finding you effortlessly even in the darkness. You quickly subvert your own gaze from the sweat beading across his filthy brow. It’s unfair that in such rotten conditions he still manages to look handsome.

“Let’s leave the diagnosis to the doctors, huh?” Calloused fingers brush across your knuckles. While it’s the ghost of a touch, you still find yourself gritting your teeth against the pain. Something is almost certainly fractured, but your hand is far from the only part of you that is wounded in Rick’s presence.

“If you say so.”

Spite tempts you to point out that hospitals and doctors seem like a distant fantasy when the pair of you might be lost down here forever. After all, any potential rescue attempt rides solely on Harley’s twisted moral compass. Between the two of you, have you shown her enough kindness? Perhaps she’ll leave you here to rot – and who could blame her?

But Rick is an optimist; he sees the good in people while you only see all the ways they can let you down. The colonel is no exception.

Careful not to jostle your hurting wrist, you snatch up one of the torches and aim the beam towards the door. The force of the fallen debris from the floors above has warped the metal in such a fashion that nothing short of another explosion is likely to free it from the frame. And you’re fresh out of nitro.

“Where was your head at?” Rick’s deep voice shatters the cloying silence descending over the room.

“Huh?” For the briefest of moments, you’d forgotten he was here. No easy feat considering his proximity, propped up beside you against the wall.

“Exactly. You’re somewhere else today. Distracted.”

He could be referring to any number of events: how you almost missed wheels-up because you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed; how you forget to check-out Harley’s weapons cache, leading to a meltdown of epic proportions from the princess of crime; how easily the guards got the drop on you.

Rick presses on. “You can talk to me, you know. If something is bothering you-”

 “I’m fine.” You cut him off decidedly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Fine…

Has anyone ever said that four letter word and truly meant it?

From the flash of his eyes, it’s clear Rick doesn’t believe you.

You want to tell him the truth. You want to tell him that yes, your hand might be bad, but you’ve experienced far worse. That the pain you carry around with you every day has dulled your other senses, so much so that a knife to the gut would probably hurt less. But you don’t. Instead, ignoring the familiar and constant hurt throbbing deep in the cavern of your chest, you subtly shuffle away from him.

All things considered, the pain of your injury is a welcome relief, allowing you to focus on something other than the truth.

Because Rick Flag broke your heart without even knowing it. And now you’re stuck here beside him, waiting for almost inevitable death together in this dank, dark room.

Perhaps this was how it was always meant to be.

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @babblydrabbly @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @immyownlittlebitch @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @littlefreakingfangirl @s-u-t @xoxabs88xox @lacontroller1991 @mayhem24-7forever

[its-jaytothemee]

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 1

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 1,354; Chapter 1 Tav POV

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

Next

Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. First three chapters will come together, then hopefully one or two at a time after that!

Tav walked through the blood that soaked into every crevice of the dungeon floor. Her arms were heavy from swinging her massive greatsword through undead flesh. The red glow from the magic holding six of Cazador’s seven spawn cast a sinister shadow on the scene before her. Astarion stood shirtless, breathing heavily, a wild mask of pain and rage spread across his face. He stood above a kneeling Cazador, his master, his torturer. Holding an intricate dagger that was constructed around a small wooden stake, he was finally able to face down the source of his torment on his own terms. Shadowheart and Gale watched behind them, wary of any potential reinforcements that could interrupt them. Halsin followed Tav, staying a few steps behind her as she approached her lover.

“Astarion…” She spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. His eyes snapped up to her, but he remained silent.

“Go on, boy.” Cazador spat, unable to hide the pain he felt.

“One more thrust…” Astarion started slowly, and for a moment, Tav saw the angry mask start to crack, “and I’ll be free of you. I’ll never have to fear you again.” He took a deep breath.

“But if I finish the ritual you started,” His face twisted once again, this time into something unrecognizable, “I’ll never have to fear anyone ever again.”

Tav felt her stomach drop. This is what she had been afraid of from the moment they set foot in Baldur’s Gate. Everything around her seemed to move in slow motion. Cazador was speaking back to Astarion, still looking smug. She shook the fog from her mind and focused again.

“…I made you to be consumed.” Cazador sneered, obviously enjoying the pain this was causing his spawn.

“I am so much more than what you made me!” Astarion shot back, his breathing even quicker than before. He turned to face Tav.

“I can do this, but I’ll need your help.” The face before her was twisted beyond recognition from the beautiful pale elf she had fallen in love with.

“Astarion, if you do this, you’ll be killed.” She could feel her voice breaking as she said the words. Being this close to the horrible power of the Rite of Profane Ascension was warping him and she feared its pull would be too strong for her to drag him away. He responded with a laugh, the sound would usually fill her with warmth, but today it just filled her with dread.

“Don’t worry darling, I know what I’m doing. You can show me my scars using the tadpole, which I can then carve into Cazador.” He spat out Cazador’s name with a particular venom in his tone.

“What?” Cazador sat up abruptly and Astarion kicked him back down.

“You’ll kill all of those prisoners! People you brought here for him! You can’t condemn them to death again, not after we promised their families!” She couldn’t hide the shaking in her voice.

“These people died years ago! They’re nothing, nothing compared to the power I can obtain from their souls. They can serve a higher purpose.” His voice was growing louder, his tone more desperate.

“Astarion please…” She pleaded.

“This is what we need, my dear. With this power, we can have a life together, a real life. Isn’t that what you want?” Tears were gathering at the edges of his eyes.

“Of course I do, but not like this! What kind of life can we have that’s built on the destruction of seven thousand lives?” She could feel the blood rushing to her face, rising with her voice, tears stinging the cuts on her cheek. She forced herself to soften her tone.

“I want you to be able to live a life you’re proud of, my love. You can’t tell me you would be proud of this. All I need is you, exactly as you are.” She held his gaze and watched his expression darken at her words.

“Are you going to help me or not?” His voice was as cold as ice. All traces of the love and affection he had shown her in their time together was gone. This was not the Astarion she knew, this was the tortured, desperate vampire spawn who was mere moments away from ultimate power and revenge. She had hoped that she could be enough for him, that she could help him let go, but now she realized it was all a fool’s hope. How could someone like her ever be more tempting than that kind of power?

Behind Tav, she heard her companions voicing their protests to Astarion, begging him to reconsider. She heard Halsin speaking to her, pleading with her to resist him. She could barely comprehend what they were saying, her own thoughts were a raging storm threatening to drown her at sea. As the overlapping voices started to fill the chamber, Tav kept her eyes locked on Astarion’s. She was searching, taking in every line and detail of his face trying to find a crack in the mask. But there was nothing. The pit in her stomach threatened to swallow her whole as she had a choice to make. Condemn seven thousand innocent souls, including children, to their death, or risk losing the man she loved.

“I…I can’t…” Her voice cracked, tears coming more forcefully now, “I won’t.” The look of betrayal on his face cut deeper than any sword. He frantically looked from her to their other companions, who silently took her side.

“Fine. Then I guess I’ll just have to enjoy this.” He turned to Cazador and grabbed him by the hair to hold him in place. He screamed as he plunged the dagger into Cazador’s chest, over and over and over again. He continued stabbing Cazador’s dead body until his slick hands could no longer hold the dagger. His entire body was dripping with blood. He fell to his knees, half sobbing, half screaming, releasing two hundred years of pain and rage with his cries. Tav couldn’t remember hearing anything more heartbreaking. She waited a moment before taking some tentative steps toward him.

“Astarion…?” She called out to him quietly. He didn’t move or respond.

She continued moving toward him, slowly. Kneeling beside him, she reached out to try and touch his arm. He snapped his head toward her and slapped her hand away.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” He hissed. The hostility in his voice caused her to jump to her feet.

“I trusted you and you betrayed me.” His voice was quiet and angry.

“Astarion, I-” She tried to speak up, holding her stinging hand.

“You took everything from me.” He interrupted, glaring at her through his ruby eyes.

Tav stood there in stunned silence. She didn’t expect him to turn on her so quickly. While holding her gaze, her thoughts wandered back to the prisoners being held here. Her eyes briefly flashed to Cazador’s staff on the ground. Astarion caught the brief change in her gaze, and he let out a demented cackle.

“Oh no, darling. If I don’t get my freedom, then neither do those wretches rotting in the cells.” He lifted the staff off the ground, ready to break it over his leg.

“No!” Tav screamed.

Before she could move to grab it, a thorny vine whipped out from behind her and grabbed the staff out of his hands. She turned around to see Halsin gripping the staff with both hands, a look of pure disgust twisting his face. A small sigh of relief huffed out of her chest. Astarion let out a frustrated growl.

“Fine! Whatever this is…was…argh! It’s over.” He threw his hands up in frustration and turned to storm off. Tav took another step toward him, staring in disbelief. He turned to look over his shoulder and met her gaze. For just a moment, she could have sworn she saw remorse in his eyes, a small glimpse of her Astarion.

“I’d say good luck out there, but honestly,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “I hope you all die screaming.” With that, he broke into a run towards the dungeon’s exit.

[restlessmaknae]

(dis)harmony :: p1h writing collab

Welcome to (dis)harmony, a P1Harmony writing collab!

➼ MASTERLIST

To celebrate the group’s 2nd anniversary, this collab aims to promote P1Harmony and hopes to fill the site with more P1Harmony stories.

What is the (dis)harmony collab about?

➼ The collab is inspired by the group’s lore including their pre-debut movie (P1H: The Beginning of a New World), their MVs and songs.

➼ The main theme for the collab is harmony/disharmony, implying that something disrupted the harmony that was once known in the world. Given the theme, your fic might be a spin-off or a second part to their movie, a story with a different setting but with the same superpowers from the movie or anything that's connected to the collab theme (meaning that it doesn't have to be related to the movie, especially if you haven't seen it!). Focus on the harmony/disharmony aspect of it instead. :D

➼ Examples can include any dystopian, sci-fi, suspense, apocalyptic story that you can imagine (even a different AU within the genre e.g. The Blade Runner), but if you have anything that doesn’t fit within these boxes but fits the theme, you’re more than welcome to join!

What are the requirements for the collab?

➼ Since I wish for this collab to be safe for all audiences, no smut and no nsfw content will be allowed.

➼ If you include potentially triggering topics (as it might happen with the genres themselves), please, do indicate them when you post your fic.

➼ Pairings should only be member x reader or member x oc. However, if you prefer, it doesn’t have to be a pairing-based fic, it can be a gen fic without any specific romantic pairing. It’s up to you! :)

➼ Since the stories aren’t connected, the other members apart from your chosen member can be used in your story as cameos.

➼ All genres (angst, fluff, crack, hurt/comfort etc) are accepted as long as it fits the main theme.

➼ There’s no minimum or maximum word count. However, you must insert the “keep reading” option if it exceeds 500 words. It can be a drabble or a one-shot, but smaus, reactions, bulleted stories aren’t allowed. If you decide to make it into a chaptered story, it can go into the collab’s main masterlist yet only the chapters that are published before the publication deadline.

➼ Also, don’t forget to tag me @restlessmaknae in your finished work and use the tag #disharmonycollab, so that I can add it to the masterlist.

How can I join?

➼ This is a first come, first serve collab. There will be two slots for each member, meaning 11 total slots excluding my own. I will keep the main masterlist up-to-date, so that you can be notified of any changes to the availability as quickly as possible.

➼ To be accepted, send me a DM /ask with your chosen member. I’ll write back to you to confirm your participation.

➼ Please, reblog this post if you join. It helps to get the word out.

What are the deadlines?

➼ Application deadline: 30th April 2023

➼ Drop-out deadline: 30th June 2023

➼ Publication deadline: 28th October 2023

After you join, you’re free to post your finished story whenever as long as it’s before the deadline.

If there’s any reason you can’t submit your story by the deadline, please, let me know, and we’ll work it out.

Any more questions?

Feel free to drop me a message or an ask. No question is a silly question. I want this collab to be as enjoyable as possible, so feel free to ask if something’s not clear. :)

[latetaektalk]

(road)tripping for you | jjk

“it was just supposed to be a roadtrip; your best friend, her boyfriend, his best friend, and you. but it gets a little more complicated (and a whole lot more awkward) when your best friend and her boyfriend have to drop out and you’re left to go on the trip with none other than jeon jungkook, a complete stranger. well, a complete stranger except for the fact that you hooked up two years ago.”

— genre: roadtrip! AU, strangers to lovers! AU, only-one-bed! AU, summer! AU, fluff, a bit of angst

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 31.071

— warnings: cursing, light alcohol consumption, awkward situations, clichés

— playlist: click here

— a/n: alright im happy and incredibly nervous to present this baby !! its completely self-indulgent, cheesy as shit, and not really edited, so i hope you guys enjoy! id also like to thank lira @koocycle​ for listening to me cry about this fic!! couldnt have done this without you! also, this is my entry for @ficscafe​’s exchange event, written for @jeonsweetheart​​ !! i really do hope you enjoy this one and sorry that this is so long! i uh also stalked your blog a bit and was inspired by how you assign a song to every fic, so i did the same! hope you dont mind!! my pick for this au is “safety net” by ariana grande !!  also, the amazing and incredibly talented @st-octavius​ has drawn one of the scene which you can find here!! ​a huge honour, so please check it out and send her lots of love!! do be aware that it contains spoilers for the story!

— lyric: tripping, falling, with no safety net 

The summer is always too short.

The realisation comes to you while you’re waiting in the car and fanning yourself with a make-shift paper fan because the AC broke two weeks ago and you haven’t had the money to get it fixed yet, waiting for Sooyoung who just walked into the convenience store to buy some snacks. 

You look out to your left. The sun’s still high up in the sky for how late it is, bleeding its last bit of light into the clouds. Couples and families are walking past you, chatting and laughing, holding melting ice cream in their hands. You hear the laughter of children playing tag down the street, another handful are chasing each other with a water gun. Through the cracked window, you feel the warm and humid air come in, hitting your cheek. It’s at that moment you realise it.

It’s sad.

But at the same time, you realise it’s fitting. Summer arrives with magic every year—the nights somehow seeming endless, the days stuffed with almost suffocating and paralysing potential, indeterminate relationships and friendships, and the air filled with infinite possibilities and promises, all within reach, so close and still not close enough, a hopeful humming accompanying it. It’s reeling. 

So of course, time passes quicker. Of course, summer is fading and fleeting. Of course, it’s all over in the blink of an eye. It’s magical after all.

It’s that magic that prompted you to ask out your crush your sophomore year (you (fortunately) lasted less than a handful of months), that gave you the foolish courage to cut your hair with a pair of blunt kitchen scissors at two in the morning your junior year (it was a disaster), and made you climb out of your window Tangled style after you got grounded so you could spend the last days of summer with your friends under the night sky your senior year (some of the greatest nights of your life). 

It’s the same magic that provokes you to turn to Sooyoung and ask her this when she comes back with an armful of snacks (without the Cheerios you asked for though).

“You wanna go on a roadtrip?”

It’s a stupid idea you conclude halfway through planning.

Because three issues come up. First, neither of you have much saved up (read: barely anything), which makes paying for the hotel stays and the car you’re going to rent (since yours is shit and Sooyoung doesn’t have one) a lot more difficult. And second, Sooyoung can’t drive, which would make you the only driver, which obviously, you can’t be on a cross country roadtrip. Last but not least, Sooyoung’s and Namjoon’s two year anniversary is coming up, and while she hasn’t made it the official third issue, you know she doesn’t want to spend their anniversary apart.

But Sooyoung somehow comes up with a solution to all of the problems.

For the first (and third) issue, she suggests taking Namjoon with you. This way you can split the costs for the hotels and the car. And obviously, if he’s on the trip too, they won’t be apart during their anniversary. You’re more than happy with the solution. The same can’t be said about the solution she suggests for the second issue.

“Look, if he came along, we’d have a second driver and—” You walk over to the snacks section but Sooyoung follows you, her grocery list long forgotten. “—we could split the costs of the hotels and car by four!”

You closely examine two poorly designed bags of cookies, neither looking all that appealing, pretending like you couldn’t hear her. You go with the cheaper option.

“Y/N,” Sooyoung says and pokes you in the ribs. You flinch and almost drop the cookies. You give her a scowl. “Consider it?”

“I already said no.” You turn on your heel and walk away.

“Please, Y/N,” she whines, catching up with you and blocking your way. 

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes. “Can’t someone else come with? Does it have to be him?”

“Kook’s Joon’s best friend,” Sooyoung says, and you cringe at the nickname. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to her calling him that. “They’ve actually also talked about going on a roadtrip before, you know? So when I mentioned it…”

She trails off, but you don’t need her to keep talking. You know where she’s getting at.

“No, Soo, I just-” You cut yourself short, and shake your head. “It’s just so embarrassing. I bailed, dude. I didn’t even bother to wait for him to wake up and shit.”

The image materialises in front of your eyes; the morning you woke up next to the doe-eyed boy you never thought you would get this close to, or even talk to. It feels like a fever dream. Not only is it unlike you to hook up with a stranger, but of all people, you could have fallen into bed with it was Jeon Jungkook? Sometimes you’re convinced it was all just a fever dream, it never happened, until you remember you forgot your keys at his place in your haze. Your lost keys remain the only piece of evidence that stops you from convincing yourself you only hallucinated it all.

“Yeah, but it was two years ago!”

You scrunch your face. You’ve heard this all before, and you don’t want to hear it again, so you walk past Sooyoung and head for the checkout, placing the cookies on the conveyor belt. 

“Y/N, can’t you at least think about it?”

“I have.”

“No, you haven’t,” she hisses. “You immediately said no! You didn’t even take a second to consider it.”

You look at her. “Soo, you know exactly how I feel about this- him. Don’t force me to be stuck in a car with him, please.”

Sooyoung opens her mouth but is interrupted by the cashier. The arguing ceases then, and you’re grateful. The peace doesn’t last long though, Sooyoung picking up right where you left off as soon as you finish paying.

“You make it seem like you guys have some major history when you just hooked up. And that was two years ago! It’s been ages! There’s literally no reason for you to still avoid Kook.”

You dig out your keys and unlock your car, slipping into it just to regret it. You groan because even though you made sure to park in the shade, the sun had moved when you were in the store and turned your car into a goddamn sauna. You feel your skin glueing to your seat. Ew. 

You keep the door open to let in some air, and you’re about to tell Sooyoung to do the same, but she interrupts you.

“I actually think he has forgotten about you,” she says, and you toss the cookies in the backseat and tuck your hair out of your face, grabbing your make-shift paper fan. It doesn’t bring much relief, but it’s better than nothing. 

The comment, although you should be happy about it because it’s all you want, irks you the tiniest bit. Because you haven’t. You haven’t even begun to forget him, and the thought it might not be the same for him, that you didn’t leave a single mark in his mind, it hurts a bit

“You think?”

“I know.”

“And how do you know?” 

“Because in the past two years he’s never brought you up, or even alluded to you or the night,” she argues.

“That’s because he doesn’t know my name,” you say. “Probably only knows me by my face. I’m probably that dumb girl that left her keys at his place in his mind.”

Sooyoung sighs, rolling her eyes at your stubbornness. “He’s really nice! You’d know if you would have just gone out with us once.” 

When Sooyoung and Namjoon started dating, it didn’t take long for your two friend groups to grow into a big one, the two organising parties and meetups. You never participated in anything when there was even the smallest chance of Jungkook being there too. No one ever noticed.

“And he’s also really funny-”

“Date him then,” you mumble, which earns you a deserved hit against your arm.

“Y/N, you know I’m in a happy relationship with Joon!” 

“So you’d date him if you weren’t with-”

Another hit.

You laugh, but Sooyoung doesn’t join you, glowering at you instead, and you wonder how this conversation took this turn so quickly. Minutes ago she was giving you puppy eyes and begging you to think about it and now she’s scowling at you and scolding you like a mother.

“I’m serious, Y/N. And before you say we’ll do it next year, you know exactly we won’t. It’s like when you said you’d stop buying so many books this year, or when I said, I’d learn Spanish. The moment we postpone the trip, we’re not doing it anymore, and you know that.” Sooyoung stares into your eyes, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t—because unfortunately, she’s right, and you don’t want to admit that—, she sighs. She takes your hands into hers and tosses your paper fan to the side. 

“Hey-”

“Y/N, look,” you quiet down when you see the stare she gives you, “I don’t want to force you into anything. I’m gonna respect your boundaries if you really don’t want him on the trip—” You hear the ‘but’ before she even says it. “—but I promise you first, Kook doesn’t remember. Second, even if he does, he’s not gonna be weird about it. And third, I know he won’t be weird about it because Kook’s probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.”

You think Sooyoung’s done, but she opens her mouth again. “Also,” she sits up, “Joon and I are gonna be there too! So even if it’s weird, which I highly doubt, we’ll serve as buffers! And if you don’t wanna talk to him, you don’t have to either. No one’s saying you have to become friends with Kook, but it’s just-”

She deflates after. She can’t find the right words, but it’s fine. You know what she’s trying to say. You’re not stupid. Without Jungkook this trip won’t be happening. It’s as simple as that.

You sigh and close your eyes. You do realise how ridiculous how you’re acting right now. Like Sooyoung has pointed out, your history only consists of one drunken night. It’s barely anything. Bits and pieces. Scraps really. But it’s enough to have your cheeks burning up.

But if Sooyoung’s right, if Jungkook has actually forgotten about you (which wouldn’t be so unlikely since it’s been two years and you’re sure he’s hooked up with other girls in the meantime), you really don’t have anything to worry about. But if Sooyoung’s not right and he brings it up, you’re fucked. You don’t think you can handle the embarrassment, the questions of why you so rudely fled in the morning. 

On the other hand, you really do want to go on the roadtrip. You think it’d be the perfect way to spend the summer, stretch it out a bit more, fill it with memories you’re going to look back on fondly in a few years. You think it would be the perfect way to savour the summer. It’s all you want, to spend time with your best friend and make memories.

You look at Sooyoung. She’s still staring at you. She’s going to wait for your answer, however long it takes. Because (and you know that) she’s convinced it might just be a ‘yes’. You heave out a sigh.

She’s right, unfortunately. You hope the same will be the case with Jungkook.

“Fine.”

It’s almost comical how quickly her face lights up, the corners of her lips turning up into a gigantic grin.

“Wait, really?” she gasps quietly, clasping her hands together, almost like in a prayer. “You’re sure about this?”

No, you’re not, not even a bit. But the things you would do to ensure a great summer with your best friend. You sigh and nod. Just as Sooyoung’s about to burst, you shove your finger into her face.

“But promise me,” you stare her down, “that you’ll stick with me. You can’t leave me hanging!”

She quickly nods, so vigorously you think her head’s going to fall off. “I won’t. I won’t. Don’t worry, Joon doesn’t exist on the trip. You’re my sole focus, I swear.”

“So you promise me?”

Sooyoung stares you down. “Y/N, I promise you I won’t leave you hanging.”

You smile at each other. It’s decided then. Jungkook’s coming on the trip too. You can already feel regret building up in you.

“Also, we gotta get back inside. I didn’t buy shit.” Sooyoung produces her grocery list from her pocket.

You roll your eyes. “You better be quick.”

In your years of friendship with Sooyoung, she has only ever let you down two times. 

The first time was in your sophomore year when you had just begun dating your first boyfriend and told your parents you were going to stay over at her place and she screwed up covering for you, which led to you getting a three hour long lecture on honesty and being in a relationship so young.

The second time was two years ago when she forgot to tell you she was going to leave the party early with a certain dimpled boy from her Chem class because you’re convinced if she had, you wouldn’t have wandered around looking for her and landed in the arms of a certain doe-eyed boy. Yes, you blame Sooyoung for you hooking up with Jungkook, at least partially.

But those two occasions were the only times she’s ever let you down. Today, however, marks the third time, and this time it’s bad.

Because when Jungkook pulls up to your apartment, Sooyoung and Namjoon aren’t standing next to you like they should be. And they’re also not running late. No, they’re in a completely different city.

Your emotional state is confusing; somehow you’re nervous and pissed off at the same time. It’s hard to find a balance, to think straight with both emotions brewing inside you.

You think time stretches thin when you watch Jungkook park and get out, eyes meeting yours before searching for the two familiar faces. You can’t figure out if he recognises you or not as he walks up to you. Your heart tumbles more and more with every step he takes.

“Hey,” he greets you, and you can see traces of a smile on his lips.

You search for something in his eyes, anything that will tell you if he remembers you, if you look familiar to him at all, but you find nothing. Either there’s really nothing and Sooyoung’s right, or you’re simply too nervous to process this entire thing to analyse the situation at hand.

“Uh, hi,” you breathe out, sounding vaguely out of breath and reedy. You scrunch your nose.

“Where’s Joon and Soo?”

And with that question, you decide he doesn’t recognise you. Maybe you’re wrong, but it’s the conclusion you decide to come to. It’s the only one that allows your voice to gain some firmness, that allows your mind to clear up a bit, that has the nervosity simmering down to a light bubble, allowing space for your anger at the situation at hand.

“They’re not here.”

“Wait,” he frowns, and looks behind you, like maybe he overlooked them somehow, “where are- oh, are they late? Did they text-”

He’s about to pull out his phone, but you stop him, dropping the news on him.

“They’re not coming.”

Jungkook snaps his gaze to you then, a knit forming between his brows.

“What do you mean they aren’t coming?” 

He stares at you with huge eyes, doe eyes so big you think they’re about to fall out. One good slap on the back of his head and they’re out. You’re sure. 

You sigh and close your eyes, your jaw on the verge of breaking. Sooyoung’s dead.

“They just called me,” you hold up your phone as if you needed proof, “and well, turns out they’re out of town and stuck there because the railway companies went on strike.” 

You press your lips together. “They aren’t coming.”

Jungkook stares at you like you’ve just grown a second head, and you can’t blame him. It took you a number of “Wait, wait, wait, what?”s and “You’re kidding, right?”s to process this information too.

He presses his hand to his forehead. “So, what?” The knit between his brows deepen as he comes to the same realisation you came to just a few minutes prior, leading to you cursing out Sooyoung over the phone. “It’s just you and me? No Joon? No Soo?”

You reluctantly nod.

Jungkook blinks at you in total five times before he reacts again, his face morphing into something you can’t pinpoint. It’s something between worry and fear, you think.

“Can’t we go pick them up?” he suggests, a proposal you’ve already made.

“No,” you begin and look into the distance, repeating what Sooyoung told you over the phone. “The issue is that we already booked all of our hotels, so if we were to pick them up, our reservations would fall through. And no, they also don’t let you reschedule either. I guess that’s the service you get when you book the cheapest hotels possible.”

You can see Jungkook think, desperate to find a solution to this. You want to tell him that you’ve thought about it all already, that you don’t want to go on a roadtrip with just him either, but you refrain, pressing the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

He lets out a hollow chuckle when he comes up with no solution. The sound arises from the back of his throat. It’s meant to lighten the mood, you think. “Well, what fucking genius suggested booking our hotels beforehand?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment, scrunching your nose and looking down to your shoes before answering, fingers fumbling in front of your stomach.

“I did.”

Jungkook quiets then. Maybe you should have bitten your tongue and not said it.

“Well, I mean,” he scrambles, “you couldn’t have known-”

“I mean it’s not just the hotels,” you interrupt, probably saving Jungkook from embarrassing himself further and possibly even insulting you again. “We also already rented the car.” You gesture behind him. “And Soo and Joon also don’t want to inconvenience us. They said they’d take the next train back and try to, uh, catch up with us.”

He nods then. A prolonged silence stretches between you like gum, sticky and gross. You don’t look at him, and he doesn’t look at you. 

In the end, he speaks first again, clearing his throat. “So, uh, we’re going on this trip together then?”

You press your lips together and tuck a strand behind your ear, still refusing to meet his gaze. It’s almost ironic how good the weather is today, perfect for a roadtrip, a roadtrip you no longer want to go on.

“Unless you want your money to go to waste, yeah, seems like it.”

Jungkook stares at you, and then nods. You look down at your suitcase and put your hand on it. 

This is happening.

You heave out a long sigh.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Sooyoung tells you, and you know there’s an apologetic look plastered on her face. But it does nothing to calm your anger, your grip on your phone only tightening. “I genuinely feel so bad, Y/N. I swear. I’m truly so sorry.”

“If you’re so sorry—” You look out the window to make sure he’s nowhere. All you see is a stressed-out father hushing his kids back into the car, the gas pump still in his right hand. “—how about you get your ass here right now?”

Sooyoung’s quiet for a moment, and you know she’s looking over to Namjoon. She sighs under her breath, running a hand through her hair. 

“Y/N, I explained it to you, I-I can’t,” she whispers, sounding as guilt-ridden as she did when she called you to tell you she screwed up covering for you. “I wish I could, but we’re stuck here. We-we can’t get away.”

You shut your eyes, feeling the rigidness of your jaw. Deep down, you know this is out of Sooyoung’s control. Still, you can’t help but spit, “I just don’t get why you guys had to go out of town a day before our trip! Just- what were you thinking?”

It’s then that you hear Namjoon in the background ask Sooyoung to hand him the phone, and although she tries to protest, the next thing you hear is his voice.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Joon, hey.” You try your best to not sound annoyed, emphasis on try.

“Please don’t be mad at Soo. This is my fault. I’m the one that organised this and brought her out here. So blame me.”

You curse under your breath. When Namjoon does this—taking full responsibility for everything, putting the blame solely on himself—, you find it incredibly hard to stay mad. And it’s all you want to be because you’re stuck in a shitty situation. You need to be mad! You have every right to! 

You heave out a sigh and curse. “I guess neither of you could have foreseen this, huh?” 

You can practically hear Namjoon nod, and knowing him, he’s probably making his ‘yeah, exactly!’ face, the one Sooyoung adores so much. 

“Yeah, this was just meant to be a one-day thing for our anniversary, you know?” 

You cringe in disgust and annoyance, not wanting to be reminded that the only reason why Sooyoung and Namjoon are out of town right now is because he wanted to be a romantic and spend some time on their own for their anniversary. You feel awfully single and lonely all of a sudden. 

“I’m sorry.”

You close your eyes. “It’s fine.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and you know exactly what Sooyoung’s about to ask. Your face sours when you turn out to be right. 

“Uh, where’s Kook by the way?” 

“He’s getting gas,” you say. He’s certainly taking his time, you think. You don’t mind now because you get to talk to Sooyoung for a bit, but you hope it won’t be like this for the rest of the trip.

“How’s it going?” she asks, and you hate that you can hear the smile on her face. “You guys bonding?”

“You know if I hadn’t paid for the car and hotels already, there would be no way I’d be here right now, right? If I could have somehow cancelled it all and gotten my money back, I would have?” you tell her, wanting- no, needing to make it very clear to her that you aren’t on this trip by choice, that if you could have not gone and still gotten all of your money back, you would have.

“But for your information, no, we’re not bonding. We just drove in silence for the last ten minutes until he pulled over for gas. It was awful,” you spit.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be like this for the rest of the trip. Right, Joon?”

And like the supportive boyfriend that he is, Namjoon’s quick to agree. “Yeah, Kook’s really shy and awkward with strangers.”

“You guys just need some time to warm up,” Sooyoung adds, and you hope it’s just that.

“Or I was right,” you mutter, shuddering at the thought. 

So far he hasn’t mentioned anything, but so far your interactions were limited, consisting of you explaining the dilemma you were in, you struggling to load your suitcase into the trunk, a process in which he got into the car and watched you in the rearview mirror, and you two sitting in silence before he (rather abruptly) announced he needed gas and turned into the next gas station.

You don’t remember this awkwardness hanging between you two years ago. But truth be told, you only remember the night in fragments, like a montage in a film, a few handful of images stuck in your brain, nothing concise, pieces of an unfinished film roll—the smile he gave you when you accidentally ran into him, the laugh he coaxed out of you with a joke you wouldn’t remember even if you had been sober at the time, the game of beer pong you won together; and at some point, his place, sitting on the couch, whispers of are you sure? spoken into one another’s ears, whispers that turned from questions into something more delicate, and slowly, also more daring; the taste of alcohol on his lips when he first kissed you, brief and shy, before diving back in, braver this time, almost eager; tender hands that quickly wandered, going beyond where they should be, pieces of garments discarded left and right, a trail to his bedroom; the layer of sweat coating your skin, the air you gasped for however stifling, before finally, in the end, slumber, quiet and peaceful, with smiles on your faces.

You shudder. For once, you want nothing more than to be wrong. You don’t want him to remember you. And before you can hear Sooyoung assuring you of just that (because obviously, that’s what she’s going to say), the sight of Jungkook walking out of the gas station, hands full with snacks, catches your eye.

“Oh.”

That’s why he was taking so long.

“‘Oh’? What did you see?”Sooyoung asks, and you’re too confused to answer her. “Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” You snap out of it. “He’s, uh, coming back. Gotta hang up.”

“Well, yeah, go hang up. Please have a fun time with-”

You end the call before Sooyoung can finish, partially because Jungkook’s getting awfully close, but mostly because you don’t want to hear the rest of her sentence.

“Hey,” he mumbles quietly when he slips inside and you return his greeting, adding a quick and awkward wave too, gripping your phone. “Sorry for the- for keeping you waiting.”

You wave him off. He stares at the snacks. You think he’s going to hand you a bag, offer you some chips or nuts, tell you it’s meant for your trip, to keep your stomachs full, but he just reaches behind and puts them in the back. (After all, you’ve got more than enough space.) 

So those are for him, you conclude with a scrunch of a nose, just for him. But that’s alright. He’s not obligated to buy you snacks too, or share them. You’re mere strangers after all. Still, your jaw grows rigid, and you look off to the side to hide it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook do a double take when you take out your earphones. You don’t care. If he wasn’t going to buy you snacks, you’re not going to sit here in silence and twiddle your thumbs.

You don’t pay any attention to the song you’re blasting through your earbuds, much more focused on being the worst passenger possible. 

You unlock your phone.

[You - 10:33] : he bought snacks

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : OH

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : thats so cute :((

[You - 10:34] : for himself only

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : wait what

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : just for himself???

[You - 10:34] : he put them into the back

[You - 10:34] : didnt offer me anything

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : oh

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : well joon did say he’s shy

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : he probably doesnt know how to interat with you

[You - 10:35] : youd never make these types of excuses for any other guy

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : wait are you on your phone rn?

[You - 10:35] : nah im texting you on a brick

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : y/n

[You - 10:35] : wdym am i on my phone?? obviously??

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : you cant be on your phone!! thats so rude

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : you’re being such a bad passenger

[You - 10:35] : hes being a bad driver by only buying himself snacks

[sooyoung !! - 10:36] : put down your phone

[sooyoung !! - 10:36] : dont make me block you

[You - 10:36] : lmao like youd dare

[You - 10:36] : you dont have the balls for it

And when your last message doesn’t go through, you freeze. You type up a handful more, none of them deliver. This is a joke, you think. Sooyoung must be messing with you. She’s unblocking you any second now. She has to. She’s your only escape from this! She can’t leave you hanging, again.

But she does.

You close your eyes and swallow the sigh, not even able to begin to fathom the situation you’re in right now: you’re going on a cross country roadtrip with Jeon Jungkook, who happens to be a mere stranger to you aside from the fact, of course, that you hooked up two years ago and you fled his apartment like your life depended on it. But not only that, Sooyoung, your supposed best friend, who has let you down once already today, just fucking blocked you. You think the universe has fun seeing you in misery and-

“... please?”

You take out an earbud. “What? Sorry?”

“Oh, I just-” Jungkook clears his throat, and you realise he’s not really looking at you, eyes dancing around. “I asked if you could hand me a water bottle.”

You blink at him before taking out your second earbud. “Sure, yeah.”

“I should have one in my bag,” he tells you, pointing behind. “You see it?”

You do. It’s in the far corner. There’s no way you’re reaching that. Your bag, however, is a lot closer. So you take out your water bottle.

“Here. Couldn’t get to your bag, so if you don’t mind, you can, uh, drink from mine,” you tell him and try to hand Jungkook your water, but he’s too focused on looking at the road, his hand grasping air several times. 

“Thanks,” he says when he finally gets a hold of it. Five attempts, you count. You bite away your smile. You fail though when you see how much Jungkook struggles to unscrew the bottle. And when he brings it to his lips with shaky hands, you think you’re about to laugh. You don’t though, and reach out to help him instead, steadying the bottle.

“Oh,” he says, surprised, and takes two big gulps. “Thank you.”

You hum and take the bottle from his lips, grabbing the lid too and screwing it back on. You doubt he’ll be able to do it. You don’t bother putting the water bottle back, keeping it in your lap instead. 

For the next ten minutes, it’s silent again. You don’t go on your phone again, not because you feel bad and don’t want to be a shitty passenger. No, definitely not that. You don’t go on your phone again because you don’t want to. 

You watch the traffic, and after a while, you let out a yawn. You think it’s a combination of the mundane view and the fact you barely slept yesterday. You rub your eyes, a gesture that prompts Jungkook to look over to you.

You turn to him too, thinking he’s going to say something. He opens his mouth, but clamps it shut the next second. You blink a handful of times and raise a brow because what was that? But you don’t bother asking him, deciding to look away too. 

And even though you didn’t make a fool of yourself, he did, you feel deeply embarrassed too. Heat crawls up your neck and settles on your cheeks. You think the Germans have a word for that. They call it fremdschämen. Well, you’re fremdschämen-ing.

“If, uh, you-”

You snap your head around. Jungkook isn’t looking at you, eyes dead set on the road, almost like he can’t bring himself to direct his gaze your way.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and collects himself. Before he begins to speak, he clears his throat, “If you’re tired, you can nap for a bit. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh,” you blurt out, shaking your head to snap out of it. “Thanks, uh, for the offer. I appreciate it. But I’m not tired.”

And even though you can see that he wants to argue with you, bring up how you just yawned, Jungkook closes his mouth.

It’s silent. It feels like a decade passes by. 

“If you’re tired,” you say, remembering to return the offer, “just tell me and we can switch.”

“Yeah, but I’m not tired.” He waits a moment. It feels like another decade passes by. “So you can, uh, nap for a bit if you want to.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at his words. It’s a nice thing of him to say. “Thanks. I’ll just see what happens.”

“Alright.” He nods. “You mind if I put on some music?”

You gesture for him to go ahead. “Not at all.”

You don’t recognise the song Jungkook plays, but you like it. You like it so much you ask him for the title.

“It’s, uh, ‘Never Not’ by Lauv,” he tells you, and you perk up at the name of the artist. You know him.

“I think I’ve got one of his songs saved.” You pull out your phone to see which one it is, unable to recall the title. 

“‘Paris in the Rain’?” Jungkook says, and you snap your finger at his words.

“Yeah, that’s it!” you say, screwing your eyes shut and pressing your hand to your temple. “How could I forget?”

He smiles at you then, and you mirror him.

And when you fall into silence again after this, it feels a lot less awkward. It’s then that you realise you’ve completely forgotten about your history, the dread that plagued you before at the thought of being in the same car as Jungkook. It disappeared for a moment, but now that you’ve thought about it again, it appears again. You curse yourself.

But before you can spiral, go back to awkwardly sitting in your seat and looking out the window and feeling completely mortified, Jungkook looks over to you. This time he speaks the first time.

“Hey, can I ask?” He doesn’t wait for you to tell him yes. “How did you meet Soo?”

You have to smile at the question. “It’s a long story,” you warn.

“Well,” Jungkook laughs, “I think we might have time.”

You would have rolled your eyes at him for his smartass comment if you knew him better. But since you don’t, you refrain and begin the story instead.

“We went to the same middle school.”

And then you tell Jungkook how Sooyoung and you started by hating each other, for reasons neither of you know. (It was hate at first sight, Sooyoung always likes to say.) You recall how your hatred spawned a series of snarky side comments, snide looks, and scoffs over a period of one year. In the end, it was a boy that brought you together, well, your mutual hatred for him. 

Wongshik was his name. He transferred to your school. More importantly, he was obnoxious, loud, arrogant, and overall, incredibly annoying. Class with him was horrible, so horrible Sooyoung and you couldn’t stop cussing him out during break. And ever since, you two have been joined at the hip. You no longer talk about Wongshik, barely think about him anymore. But you are, in a really weird way, incredibly thankful for how annoying he was. You aren’t sure you would have found one another if it hadn’t been for his obnoxiousness.

“How did you meet Joon?”

Jungkook waves you off. “Our story isn’t that great.”

“You don’t want to tell?”

“Well,” he hums, “I don’t mind. I just don’t think it’s all that exciting. We didn’t go from enemies to friends, you know?”

“I’m sure it’s still great,” you try, and Jungkook scratches his neck, sighing in the end.

“We got assigned as partners for an art project in high school.”

“And then?” 

It’s after you’ve asked the question that it dawns on you that there’s nothing to it, seeing the pink that dusts his cheeks a second too late.

“Nothing. That’s it,” he coughs and shrugs. “We became friends after that.”

“Oh.” It’s all you can say for a moment. “Well, that’s a cute story too!”

Jungkook levels you with an unconvinced look. You hold his gaze for a second before cracking.

“I tried.”

He hums. “I appreciate it.”

And then, you share a laugh. It’s short but genuine. It’s enough, more than you ever expected. This isn’t so bad, you think.

You don’t fall asleep for almost another two hours. The exhaustion sneaks up on you though, slowly coming on around the one hour mark. You don’t know if Jungkook notices, but once he switches to his lofi songs, it starts to lull you to sleep. 

It’s the sound of the seat belt snapping back that wakes you up.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Jungkook apologises when he sees you peel your eyes open. “The seatbelt was jammed and I-”

He stops when you wave him off, a soft smile on your lips. 

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, voice still thick with sleep. You yawn and rub your eyes, taking in your surroundings. You’re at a rest stop. “Why did we stop?”

“Uh, toilet break,” he admits, not daring to look at you when he speaks. Adorable, you think. Does he think you don’t pee too?

“Yeah, what time is it?” you ask and stretch as much as you can, your joints cracking in relief. 

Jungkook shows you his phone, and you think you must be hallucinating when you see you’ve been asleep for the past three hours. You’ve been on this trip for four hours now, and you slept for more than half of it. Not only that, Jungkook had to drive all this time. Great, so where’s your award for being the world’s shittiest passenger?

“God, fuck, I’m sorry. I slept so much.”

“What? No, don’t apologise! It’s fine,” Jungkook quickly assures you and gives you a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He pauses, and looks off to the side when he says it. “I’m glad you got some rest.”

You don’t know what to say to that, your mouth drying up at his words. Your brain is especially slow, still half asleep. So you end up not saying anything. Which is probably the worst thing you can do because an awkward silence hovers around you.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you tuck your hair away, “you said you needed to pee?”

“Right, yeah, yes, I did. I said that. I gotta pee, yeah.” Jungkook clears his throat, and even though you’re not facing him, he knows you’re cringing. Even he is cringing at himself. 

“Let’s just… go.” You click off your seatbelt and get out before Jungkook can even answer. You throw the door shut and begin walking, not waiting up for him. And as you make your way to the little convenience store, you shove your earbuds back in. Maybe you’re being a little rude, but you can’t bring yourself to deal with this right now. You just woke up for God’s sake!

Inside, you beeline for the snacks, needing to look busy. You pick up a bag of chips and pretend to read the back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook head towards the restrooms, and you think you catch him glancing in your direction. You refuse to think about it.

You read the ingredients lists like you know what any of these things are. It’s stupid, you know, but it’s the only thing keeping you sane since panic texting Sooyoung isn’t an option anymore. Your music blasting through your earbuds helps too. 

However, it’s also your downfall. You don’t even hear him approach you.

“Hey.” 

You instinctively take out your earbuds. The wrong move because you can no longer pretend you can’t hear him.

His greeting sounds harmless enough, friendly some might even say, but when you look at him, you know you’re in for it. God, fuck. It’s obvious. His smile gives it away, the corners of his lips turned up a little too much. You already know, getting him to leave you alone won’t be easy at all. 

“Uh, hi,” you mumble before pretending to go back to reading when really, his presence is the only thing you can focus on. You’re more than aware of how close he is to you, too close.

“I’m Minki,” he tells you, and you give him a hum, regretting not buying those big noise-cancelling headphones. “And you-?”

He inches closer to you. Your grip around the bag of chips tightens. You swallow and take a step back. Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe he’ll get the hint. He doesn’t. He steps closer.

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you mumble, voice weak, your heart beginning to thump a bit louder. You look around yourself. No one is here. The store is hauntingly empty. You feel your throat tighten. You are on your own.

“Y/N?” he repeats, and you don’t think you’ve ever had anybody say your name like that. On his tongue it sounds wrong, sticky somehow. He emphasises the wrong syllables, rushes and slurs the wrong letters. 

“I like it.” His smile widens. “Fitting for someone as pretty as you, sweetcheeks.”

And you think you’re going to retch. No, seriously. You think you’re going to start dry heaving in the corner right fucking now. Disgust doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. You don’t think there’s anything grosser than a guy unironically calling you sweetcheeks. You want to throw yourself in front of a car.

“It’s Y/N,” you assert, your face hardening.

“Oh, do you not like sweetcheeks?” he asks and smiles innocently at you. Your jaw locks at his question. “Babydoll then?”

Your grip on the bag of chips tightens, the sound of it crinkling pierces the air. But he never looks away from you, eyes relentlessly staring into yours. He’s trying to get you to break and crack, to cave. He wants to see you squirm, enjoys it, you know that. It takes you everything to not give him the satisfaction he’s craving. Especially when he dares to take a step closer to you.

“Buttercup?” He raises a brow. “How about we talk about it in my car? It’s parked just outside.” 

He points to the doors, like you care where his stupid car is parked. 

You grit your teeth, heart pounding in your chest at this point. He takes another step towards you, and you take one back. You’re about to hit the wall. He’ll have you trapped then. You swallow.

It requires all of your courage to keep your voice level. “Please leave me alone.”

“But why? I feel like there’s a connection here, baby-”

“Connection?”

Your knight in shining armour comes just in time. You’ve never believed in perfect timing, but you might now, convinced Jungkook has it. 

Relief flushes through you at his sight, something you never thought his appearance would elicit. So far it has only ever been apprehension and anxiety. It’s a welcome change.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” 

And even though Jungkook’s smiling, he looks scary. There’s a threat tucked between his teeth, pulling on the upturn of his lips. It’s not directed at you, and still, you swallow. The guy’s actually a bit taller than Jungkook, but he looks shorter, probably because he’s cowering under Jungkook’s gaze.

He puts on a brave face though, a frown settling on his features. “Don’t call me buddy. My name’s Minki-”

“Well, you just called my girlfriend baby, didn’t you? Why can’t I call you buddy then?” Jungkook laughs, but it’s hollow and mocking. “What? You don’t like it when people don’t call you by your name?”

You make sure to make no movement or sound. Not that it would make a difference. They are far too invested in staring each other down to pay you any attention. You could have probably knocked over the display, and they still wouldn’t have turned to you.

“I-”

“What do you even want?” Jungkook interrupts, words sharp like daggers, snapping off from his teeth. “What are you talking to my girlfriend for, huh? Interested in sharing maybe?”

Jungkook doesn’t put an arm around your waist or pull you close to him. You think he would, expect him to, but all he does is stand close enough to you to not raise any suspicion. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but you appreciate him making an effort to respect your boundaries even in this situation. 

“I was just trying to be nice,” the guy mumbles, disgruntled and annoyed. “No fucking need to get all defensive and shit.”

Jungkook quirks a brow at his attitude. He tongues his cheek. His features darken. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” he spits and you think you hear a growl too. The smile stays on his lips, and you think that makes him even more intimidating than if he had just dropped it.

You find absolutely zero traces of awkwardness in Jungkook’s words. It’s like he’s unlocked another version of himself, a confident and confrontational one. You’re in awe, to say the least.

“Who are you calling defensive? You’re the one that just dared to bother my girl,” Jungkook hisses like a snake, on the edge of attack, his eyes fixed on him. You don’t think anyone has ever called you their girl before. It has your heart rumbling in your chest.

“Look, I was just-”

“Trying to be nice?” Jungkook scoffs and clicks his tongue. “Go be nice somewhere fucking else.”

The guy looks ready to protest, nostrils flared and chest heaving with deep breaths, but when Jungkook takes one step closer to him and levels him with a glare that would have hell freeze over, he backs away. Of course, not without hissing something about Jungkook being unreasonably hostile and him just wanting to be nice. Jungkook doesn’t jump on it. He just drills his eyes into the guy’s back until he’s out of sight. And the moment he’s out of sight and earshot, Jungkook relaxes and backs off from you, stepping out of your personal space.

“You alright?” 

You almost get whiplash by how quickly his demeanour changes. It’s like a whole new person is standing in front of you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer dumbly, unable to quite wrap your head around what just happened. “I’m alright. Yeah, uh, thanks.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” he tells you and rubs the back of his neck, looking shy, and you don’t know how to make do with the different versions of Jungkook presented to you right now. You’re fascinated by how he seamlessly shifts between being both awkward and confident. It should be impossible, but he does it, somehow.

“You wanna get those, uh, chips?” he coughs and takes them from you before you can answer. You don’t, but you don’t find it in you to tell him that. You follow him to the checkout counter.

The clerk comes out from the back and silently rings you up. You’re about to pull out your wallet when Jungkook beats you to it and puts a five-dollar on the counter and slides it over.

“Wait, no, let me-”

“It’s fine,” he tells you, waving you off. The clerk takes the money before you can tell him not to, and you’re left to put away your wallet.

“I’ll pay you back,” you say, and Jungkook shakes his head and gives you the bag of chips. He’s about to repeat himself, but he stops when he sees the guy from before. 

You thought he would leave the store, but you guess you shouldn’t have had any expectations for someone like him. Your face sours when you realise he’s standing right between you and the exit. 

Before you can think of ways to avoid him, Jungkook takes your hands into his, fingers perfectly slotting with yours. You look down, the sight making your stomach twist in your stomach—his tattooed hand cupping yours.

“Let’s go.” He gives you a smile over the shoulder. And somehow, that gives you the confidence to walk past the guy from before with your head held high.

By the time you’re back in the car, you’re smiling.

“Thank you,” you tell him again, and Jungkook waves you off.

“Anytime.”

You put the chips to the other snacks in the back and pull the seatbelt across your chest. “He looked so scared of you.”

“As he should be,” Jungkook laughs and you hum. He slots the keys into the ignition, seatbelt strapped in place. 

“Can’t believe you just did that,” you mumble when you pull out of the gas station, spotting the guy walking out of the store from the corner of your eye.

Jungkook laughs again. “Sorry if I made you, uh, uncomfortable by the way,” he mumbles, and you sit up.

“What? No, you didn’t!” you quickly assure him. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “Just, uh, so you know I didn’t step in because I thought you couldn’t handle yourself or anything, but I just,” he avoids your gaze, “couldn’t help myself. He was being so aggressive and pushy- I just had to step in, you know? He triggered something in me- I don’t know.”

You smile. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook glances your way as if to make sure you weren’t lying to him. He smiles when he sees no trace of deception in your eyes.

You let a beat pass. “I do have to say,” Jungkook stares at you with big eyes, clearly expecting the worst, “I was surprised by your… confidence.”

“Oh.” And then he laughs, hiding half of his face in his hand. “Yeah, uh- I-I can’t explain it either.” 

He clears his throat, and you let him take his time to find the words. Jungkook sighs at his inability to form a sentence. 

Finally, “I’m sorry for being so awkward,” he looks your way for a split second before focusing on the road again, grip tightening around the steering wheel. He clears his throat one more time. “I just-I just don’t wanna mess this up, you know? You’re Soo’s best friend and she’s dating Joon- and I know she means everything to him, so I don’t want to make a bad impression as his best friend, you know?”

You learn once he starts, Jungkook doesn’t stop, words spilling from his lips in an endless stream.

“I’ve been told I give off a rather unfriendly and rude vibe too. Like I know how shitty I must have looked when I, uh, didn’t help you with your suitcase, and when I kinda insulted you before- also, actually, the snacks I bought earlier?” He gestures behind him. “They were meant to be for you too. For some reason, I just... couldn’t offer them to you?” He shakes his head. “You must think I’m a douche.”

Jungkook looks at you then, and you would have made fun of him then if you were closer and if he hadn’t just heroically saved you from a creep. A smile finds a place on your face, one that bothers on a grin.

“I mean, yeah,” you tell him but are quick to cut back in when you see the mortification set in with him. “I mean, no. I’ve figured you’re kinda awkward. I mean everybody is, right? Some more than others, I guess.”

You realise what you’ve done a second too late. You should feel sorry, incredibly remorseful, but instead, you have to laugh. The face Jungkook pulls amuses you in ways it probably shouldn’t. You’re definitely going to hell.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” you say but the laugh that accompanies your words makes it certainly hard to believe you. “Sorry, I just can’t help myself. I swear I don’t mean it like that.”

Jungkook gives you an unimpressed look. 

You gather yourself, but the smile doesn’t disappear completely off your lips. “Okay, look, it’s fine. Now that you’ve explained it, I get it. You’ve got nothing to worry about!”

Jungkook presses his mouth into a line. “So you’re not gonna tell Soo I suck?”

You don’t try to bite away the smile. “No.” He lets out a relieved sigh. “I’m just gonna tell her you’re a douche.”

And for a second, Jungkook believes you, his doe eyes meeting yours. You laugh. He doesn’t join you. He does roll his eyes. It does nothing to lessen your laugh, to his dismay.

“I’m kidding,” you say, just to make sure he won’t get any wrong ideas. “You’re fine. Just… relax. No need to be awkward.”

Jungkook huffs, but there’s a smile on his lips. “I’ll try.”

“Great.”

And when you go back to silence, the air feels much lighter than before.

You switch after a quick stop at McDonald’s for a cheap and greasy lunch. It sits heavy in your stomach, but you don’t have the courage to suggest walking it off. So you get back in the car.

“Can I skip this song?” you ask because you’re the driver and the song makes it hard for you to concentrate. It’s awful. You hate it. You don’t tell him that though.

“Yeah, of course,” Jungkook tells you and skips to the next song. You don’t like this one either, but you don’t say anything. “You can put on your music too if you want, you know?”

“It’s fine. Your music is good.” And you can’t help but quietly add. “Most of the time.”

Jungkook gawks at you then. You have to laugh. “Sorry, I’m just joking.”

“No, no, actually-” He doesn’t finish his sentence and pauses the song. “How about we make a playlist together? Since we’re gonna be stuck in the car for a while, let’s try to make it as enjoyable as possible.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you say, really liking the suggestion, and Jungkook’s quick to open Spotify and create a new playlist, sending you the link to it too.

“‘Y/N’s and Jungkook’s Ultimate Summer Roadtrip Soundtrack’,” he says. “What do you think?”

You smile. “Great name.”

“Great.” He grins. “And obviously, the first song has to be ‘Midsummer Madness’ by 88rising, right?” 

You actually agree. The song belongs on every summer playlist.

“Add Jeremy Zucker to it too. ‘supercuts’ and ‘all the kids are depressed’,” you tell him.

Jungkook hums and does as you say. “‘Indigo’ by Niki and ‘100 Degrees’ by Rich Brian, yeah?”

You laugh. “You really like 88rising, don’t you?”

“You don’t?” he shots back, and you roll your eyes. Of course, you do.

“‘Everybody Talks!’ and ‘Animal’ by Neon Trees.”

“Bringing back the 2010s, huh?” Jungkook hums. “‘Sunday Best’ by Surfaces?”

“I don’t think I know this one,” you tell him, and he gasps at you, shaking his head and typing into his phone. A second later, the song plays over the stereo, and instantly, you see his point. “Okay, yeah, add this one.”

“How about ‘Electric Love’?”

You’re more than quick to agree. “Oh, that one for sure.”

“Okay, great,” he hums, and counts the number of songs under his breath. “Nine songs. That’s enough for now, right? We can add to it later.”

You nod. “Now, put it on.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He adds a salute too, and you roll your eyes.

By the time you get to the hotel, it’s late, the sun is long gone. You shut off the engine with a sigh, ready to collapse on a bed.

“Oh, we made it,” Jungkook groans, rubbing his eyes and stretching in his seat. You hum, too tired to speak. “Thank god. I’m done.”

You stretch too, your back cracking like a glowstick, and click off your seatbelt. But your seatbelt clearly doesn’t want you to leave, staying put even when you repeatedly press the button to unlock it.

“Wait, let me,” Jungkook says when he notices you struggling. 

He moves to help you. And right then, your hands brush. It’s stupid, really stupid, but you feel heat crawl up your neck, reaching the tips of your ears, rivalling the warmth of the summer. You even freeze for a second. When you thaw back to life, you flinch and turn your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut as if doing so would change anything.

Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, and you’re grateful he keeps his gaze trained downwards. You’re certain you would have died of embarrassment if he had looked at you. 

“This seatbelt- it’s a bit, uh, tricky” He fumbles with it as he explains. “You gotta—” He speaks through pauses, voice strained. “—really push it down and-”

It clicks off.

And even though it wasn’t too tight before, you can breathe much better now. Maybe it was the seatbelt and you, somehow, didn’t notice all this time, or maybe it was because breathing got a little difficult when Jungkook was so close to you. But you’re convinced it’s not that. Sure, could you count all of his long eyelashes (which, might you add, are also unfailingly naturally curled too)? Yeah, but that’s not the reason why you feel so relieved. It’s because the seatbelt was digging into your ribs the entire time. It had to be. 

“Thanks,” you cough out and avert your eyes, looking out the window to the hotel. “Let’s, uh, check in, yeah?”

The thing about being four broke college students that are hellbent on going on a cross country roadtrip is you’re willing to cut corners at any point. And one of them is your accommodation. Four people means four hotel rooms. That’s not in your budget, not even when you take three rooms instead of four (with Sooyoung and Namjoon being a couple and whatnot). Two would be in your budget if you weren’t such ambitious shits and insisting on going cross country, meaning you’d need to stay in hotels at least a couple of times throughout the trip. So in the end, you settled for one room. 

One room for four people. 

Well, now it’s just two people.

“Oh,” you say when you walk in, stopping dead in your tracks, the key card still sitting in the lock, hand hovering over the light switch. Jungkook almost bumps into you when you abruptly stop.

“What?” he asks, and you will yourself to respond, but your throat is dry all of a sudden, so you step to the side.

You glance in Jungkook’s direction, curious to see his reaction. He doesn’t react much at all, his lips parting only the tiniest bit as he sees what you did when you walked in. 

“Uh, didn’t we ask for two beds?” he asks, a knit between his brows.

“We did,” you say, frantically scanning the room. Maybe you overlooked the second bed. Maybe there’s one and it will magically appear if you look around once more-

You stop. There’s only one bed.

“They must have forgotten, I guess,” you mumble and take a few steps inside, still holding out hope that maybe just maybe there’s a second bed somewhere. It’s foolish and naive, you know.

“I could go ask if they’ve got another room,” Jungkook proposes, putting down his huge travel bag by the door.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’ll be back in two.”

“Don’t forget the key card,” you remind him on his way out, and he gives you a smile before grabbing it and shutting the door. You sigh and wander over to the bed, carefully sitting down on it like it was made of glass. It is big enough for the both of you, but there’s no way you’re sleeping in it together.

You feel the duvet. It’s softer than you expected it to be, with how cheap this room was. You scan the room one more time before finally letting yourself fall back. For a moment, you lay there in silence before pulling out your phone and checking it for the first time in hours.

Two missed calls from your mother, alongside a handful of texts. You call her back, already knowing what’s about to follow. You hold your phone to your ear. She picks up after just a ring. She’s been waiting.

“Hey, mom.”

“Honey! Are you alright? You didn’t answer my calls and texts!” There’s obvious worry laced with her words. You swallow. Maybe you should reconsider and not keep your phone on silent, at least for the duration of the trip.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m alright,” you tell her. “I was driving, so I wasn’t on my phone. We just checked in.”

“Oh, well, how’s the trip? Are you having fun?”

You close your eyes and hum. “It’s fun, but I’m also tired.”

“I can imagine. Driving so long isn’t good for your health. You sound very tired,” your mother says, and you think she’s going to launch into the speech she gave you when you first mentioned to her you’ll be going on a roadtrip. She doesn’t though, thankfully. You’re too tired for this. 

“But you know that already. At least, you’re having fun, right?” She only continues when you hum. “Well, how’s Soo?”

You peel your eyes open and grip your phone a little tighter. “Great,” you lie, knowing better than to tell the woman who sat in the kitchen in the darkness, waiting for you to come home after Sooyoung fucked up covering for you, that you were on a roadtrip with a complete stranger, a guy on top of that too.

“Is she doing well? Are you two eating well? What did you have for lunch? Dinner?” your mother asks.

“Uh, we stopped by McDonald’s,” you tell her, and you cringe at how reedy your voice sounds.

Your mother immediately makes a disapproving noise, of course. “For lunch and dinner? You should get something proper. Don’t eat too much McDonald’s. That’s not good for you.”

“Noted.” You decide to keep your answers short, and you hope your mother chalks it up to you being exhausted rather than you trying to hide something from her. 

“And how is it with the two guys? What were their names again? Namjoon and-?”

“Jungkook,” you supply with a cough.

“Ah yes, right, Jungkook. Are they trustworthy?”

“Yes, of course, mom,” you quickly assure, chuckling but it sounds wrong. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’re really nice.”

Your mother hums. “Well-”

It’s then that you hear the sound of the key card being inserted into the lock. You shoot up. 

“Uh, mom, I gotta go,” you tell her, the words stumbling from your lips clumsily. 

“What’s the hurry? I thought you were in the hotel-”

“Well—” You lock eyes with Jungkook and you’re quick to gesture for him to not say a word, panic in your eyes. “—uh, Soo just called for me. She needs my, uh, help.”

“Oh, in that case... go help her,” your mother says, and you think you can hear suspicion in her voice. You cringe. She knows something’s up. Why can’t you be a better liar?

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that,” you mumble, and Jungkook slowly closes the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And then, you end the call. You breathe out.

“Who-”

“My mom,” you say and throw your phone on the bed. “So? What did they say?”

Jungkook looks confused, taking a moment to connect the dots. “Right, uh, yeah, well they told me we didn’t actually book a room with two beds. Only one with one bed.”

You stare at him. “Oh.”

So you fucked up the reservations, huh? 

“Anyway, I asked if we could maybe switch, but they said,” he rubs his neck and averts his gaze then, “that they didn’t have any other rooms left.”

“Oh,” you repeat and sink back down on the bed. Jungkook leans against the closed door, staring at his shoes. “No rooms?”

“No rooms,” he confirms.

You press your lips into a thin line and search your brain for a solution. But you come up empty. Sooyoung has always been better than you at this. You’ve relied on her for problem-solving since middle school, so that part of your brain is rusty, to say the least. It doesn’t help you’re tired too.

“I could just sleep on the couch.” 

You jerk your head up, and follow Jungkook’s gaze, to the shabby little grey thing you don’t think classified as a couch.

“What? No!” you exclaim and shake your head. “That’s too small.”

“It’s fine,” he says, and you frown at him.

“It looks like it’s about to fall apart.”

“It doesn’t.”

You level Jungkook with a hard gaze. He doesn’t cave, to your dismay. You sigh.

“Fine,” he perks up, “I’ll sleep on it.”

“No- what? I’m gonna sleep on it!”

“No, sorry, I am,” you tell him. “Look, my phone’s already on it.”

He frowns. “It’s not.”

“Now, it is.” You’re just about to toss your phone on the couch when Jungkook beats you to it, throwing his gigantic travel bag across the room. You watch as it slowly tumbles from the couch to the floor.

“Sorry, my bag is on it.” Jungkook points at it like it didn’t just fall to the floor.

“It’s not.” And at your words he quickly rushes over and places his bag on top of the couch before sitting down himself. You stare at him. 

“Yes, yes, it is.” He smiles.

You grit your teeth. “You’re not gonna sleep well on that thing. I slept in the car a bit, so it doesn’t matter if I don’t sleep well now. Plus, I’m the one that fucked up the reservations, so I should be the one sleeping on the couch for it.”

Jungkook hums as if he’s considering your words, but then he clicks his tongue and pats the couch. “I think I’m gonna sleep just fine on this thing.”

“Stop lying-”

“Someone’s calling you.” He points to your phone in your hand, the screen lit up with a call.

You look at it.

Sooyoung.

You contemplate not taking it to continue this argument, but before you can make a decision, Jungkook does it for you. “Go take it. We’ll continue after.”

So even though you’re more than unhappy about this interruption, you do as he says, accepting the call and pressing your phone to your ear. Jungkook gestures over to what you assume must be the bathroom. You don’t bother locking the door when you walk inside. 

“Hey-”

“Oh, so you’ve finally unblocked me, huh?” you hiss and blink a couple of times, the fluorescent lights of the bathroom far too bright. It strains your eyes.

“Look, I had to,” Sooyoung says. “You were being a bad passenger and texting me when you should have been talking to Kook!”

You roll your eyes. “You left me hanging, again. I needed you, you know?”

“Oh, please.” You know exactly what look she has on her face right now. It’s the one where she thinks you’re being dramatic. “You survived, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” you spit. “A creepy guy approached me and wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What? Are you alright, Y/N?” Sooyoung quickly asks, voice dripping with a mix of worry and exasperation. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you assure her, looking at yourself in the mirror and brushing through your hair with your fingers. “Jungkook came and did the entire ‘why are you talking to my girlfriend?’ shtick.”

“So, you’re alright?” 

You hum.

Sooyoung waits a moment. “So, Kook saved you?”

You practically hear the smirk in her words. You groan. “You’re so annoying, you know?”

She cackles.

“Seriously, Soo, shut up,” you hiss, deciding to change the topic. “Are you guys still stuck?”

“Yeah, the railway companies are on strike until tomorrow morning. We’ll be back in town in the early afternoon. But that’s not important. What’s important is how it’s going with Kook and you. Is he still being awkward?”

You press your lips together. “I mean, no? It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be, but still... I’d much rather have you here too. I really wanted to go with you. It would have been so much fun.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sooyoung mumbles, and you’re both quiet. She’s about to cry. You can hear it in her voice. You know she must be wracked with guilt, so in an effort to spare the tears, you change the topic, “Oh, by the way, officially, you’re still on the trip with me. I didn’t tell my mom.”

She chuckles then, but it doesn’t sound all that real. “Alright, I’ll cover for you.”

“Do it properly though this time. I swear to God, if you fuck this up again, we’re done,” you joke and elicit another chuckle. It sounds more genuine, but it’s still not quite there. You sigh and tell her something you know will definitely take her mind off things.

“Did I tell you? I fucked up the reservations.”

There’s a pause. 

“What? How? Are you roomless?”

“Worse,” you tell her. “There’s only one bed and the hotel is booked out.” 

For a moment, Sooyoung doesn’t say anything until she bursts out into laughter, prompting a ‘What’s so funny?’ from Namjoon. 

“Holy shit, Y/N! You’re joking, right?” You screw your eyes shut. At least she doesn’t sound like crying anymore. “What in the Wattpad fanfiction is this?”

“Stop fucking laughing, Soo. I’m miserable, alright?”

Your embarrassment triples when you listen to Sooyoung explain the situation to Namjoon. 

“Soo!” you hiss. 

“Sorry, sorry.” She’s still laughing though. Sometimes you wish your rivalry in middle school never stopped. “I’m just- this is just so funny. So what? You guys gonna sleep in the same bed?”

You hate the teasing tone swinging with her words, hate it so much you’re ready to just end the call then and there.

“You’re being a bad friend, you know?” you press through gritted teeth. “But no, we’re obviously not sleeping in the same fucking bed.” You make an effort to keep your voice low, aware that Jungkook’s just outside, sitting on the couch. You doubt the door is soundproof. “That’d be so weird.”

“Why not? I think that’d be a great bonding activity.”

You pause and if she was in front of you, you’d stare daggers into her. Your lips press into a line.

“Soo,” you begin, low and threatening, almost like how Jungkook spoke to the guy at the rest stop, “are you telling me to sleep with Jungkook?”

Sooyoung waits a moment, the silence that stretches between you feeling like forever. And then, “Hey, babe, Kook’s single, right?”

You faintly hear Namjoon's affirmative answer, followed by a confused ‘Why?’, and you think you’re ready to break off your friendship with Sooyoung.

“I fucking hate you,” you whisper, eliciting another round of obnoxious laughter. 

“Look, I actually didn’t mean that,” Sooyoung tells you when she’s finally calmed down. “I was strictly speaking about actual bonding, as in friendship, you know? You’re the one that went there!”

“You said ‘bonding activity’!” you exclaim, clamming your hand in front of your mouth when you raise your voice a bit too much. You look at the door, listening to any sounds from the other side, but luckily, it stays quiet. 

You lower your voice into a hiss. “Don’t blame me for going there! You worded it weirdly.”

“Ah, so it’s never your fault, is it? Just accept it, you’ve got a dirty mind-”

“I’m hanging up. Goodbye.”

And without hesitating, you end the call, watching as your screen darkens. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, shaking your head and her words out of your mind. Sooyoung’s stupid and absolutely wrong. 

With that conclusion, you take one deep breath, making sure to compose yourself before heading out. One look into the mirror, you realise the frown plaguing your features has deepened. You smooth it over as much as possible.

When you walk out, you’re ready to pick up right where you left off, but instead of seeing Jungkook sitting on the couch, you find him curled up on it, knees uncomfortably tucked to his chest, a pillow under his head and a blanket thrown over him. You don’t know where he got both of those things from as the bed is still untouched. His travel bag sits on the floor next to him. 

Jungkook’s sleeping.

Or well, he’s pretending to be asleep. It’s obvious he’s faking it with how stiff he’s lying on the couch. 

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath and throw your hands into the air. “What happened to talking about it after?”

No response. 

You walk over to him, expecting Jungkook to open his eyes at one point. You know he can feel your gaze on him. There’s no way he isn’t. You’re practically digging daggers into him.

“I know you’re faking,” you say, but again, no response. You contemplate pulling off the pillow and blanket, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift your hand. 

With Sooyoung, you wouldn’t hesitate at all, but with Jungkook, you’re still careful. Because even though you just spent the day getting comfortable with each other, you’re scared you might cross a line and catapult you back to your starting point. You definitely do not want to be the reason for that. 

So you don’t try anything. 

You heave out one heavy sigh. 

“Jungkook, you said we were gonna talk,” you mumble, tired and disappointed. “You’re not being fair.”

You think you see the slightest twitch in his face, the tiniest knit between his brows like he’s contemplating maybe opening his eyes. But then, it’s gone, the lines smoothed over and you know you’re not getting him to drop his act. 

Admitting defeat, you wander over to your suitcase and open it, grabbing your toiletry bag and a change of clothes. 

“Just gonna say you’re gross for not brushing your teeth. They are gonna fall out, you know?” 

You wait for a reaction, but of course, you don’t get one. You roll your eyes and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

Getting into bed feels weird. You’ve never liked sleeping in a bed beside your own, but you especially don’t like it when you see Jungkook curled up in that same uncomfortable and stiff position as before. You want to say something, but you know it’s in vain. So you turn off the lights and crawl under the covers.

You close your eyes, trying to sleep for a few minutes before giving up, eyes peeling open. And it’s not because it feels strange sleeping in a foreign bed. It’s because there’s a coil in your stomach, brewing and stewing in there. 

A coil of guilt.

Taking a deep breath, you throw the covers off you and swing your legs over the mattress. You’re determined as you walk over to Jungkook. 

“Get up,” you say with confidence you don’t know where you got from. “Jungkook, stop pretending. I know you’re not sleeping”

You think it’s the annoyance in your voice, the strictness swinging with it because finally, Jungkook does as you say and peels his stupid doe eyes open. Your gazes meet. He looks sheepish, embarrassed almost, and you click your tongue.

“Come on,” you say and grab his blanket. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook repeats, pulling back the blanket. “Seriously, the couch is comfortable-”

“Oh, shut up,” you groan and throw your head into your neck. “You’re not sleeping on the couch, okay? You’re almost falling off this thing! Look at yourself, curled up like a goddamn shrimp. How are you gonna sleep like that?”

Jungkook opens his mouth but falls short. 

“See!” you laugh because this is so stupid, and he looks away, defeated.

You take a deep breath before continuing, knowing once you say this, you can’t take it back. 

“Just come sleep in the goddamn bed with me.”

Before Jungkook can even begin to comprehend your words, you grab his blanket and walk over to the bed. You throw the blanket on it.

“Uh,” confusion and uncertainty swing with his voice, “both of us? In the same bed?”

You can feel heat crawl up your neck at his question. You blame him for it, for the way he words it. It’s weird, sounds wrong. 

“Don’t make this weird. I’m just saying- there’s enough space, right?” You gesture at the bed. “And I-” You pause for a moment. “We’ll use your pillow as a barrier.” 

Even though you try your hardest to sound confident and not let any of the embarrassment leak through, you can hear the quiver in your voice. You hope Jungkook doesn’t. 

When you look at him again, he’s still staring at you, sitting up now though.

“I mean if you don’t wanna,” you’re starting to lose all of the courage you had before, “that’s fine too. I just thought that since, you know, the couch-”

“No, no, no,” he interrupts and grabs his pillow, standing up, “I’m just-” 

Jungkook pauses. A smile finds his lips. You lock eyes.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I’m too.”

You don’t think you’ve seen Jungkook look at you like this before, quite frankly you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this. There’s so much sincerity and honesty in his eyes. You can’t handle it. You avert your eyes.

“Yeah, uh, I’m fine with it,” you cough, and wave him off. “Just, you know, a barrier.”

He places the pillow right in the middle. “Good?” 

You nod before crawling under the covers. For some reason, breathing gets a bit harder as you do.

“Uh.” You snap your gaze to Jungkook at his interruption, eyes big when you look at him. “I think I’m gonna go wash up and change,” he tells you, gesturing at himself, still in his clothes from today. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you say. “Go do that.”

“Wouldn’t want my teeth to fall out, would I?” he smiles, and you roll your eyes at him. You don’t think he can see it in the darkness, but then you spot a grin on his lips.

“Just go.” You wave him off.

The fluorescent lights of the bathroom spill into the room through the crack under the door, and in the darkness, they seem especially bright and straining. You close your eyes.

“Ah, shit,” you hear Jungkook curse, followed by the faint sound of his toiletry bag dropping to the floor, and then, the calm sound of running water. Usually, you would slowly fall asleep, the sounds serving as white noise, but you can’t. Not when the realisation dawns on you Jungkook must have heard everything before. 

You figured the door wasn’t soundproof, but you didn’t expect it to be this thin. Jungkook heard everything. You’re sure of it. Before you were embarrassed. Now, you’re mortified.

You dig the heels of your hands into your eyes and bite your lip, stopping yourself from groaning.

By the time Jungkook comes back, you’ve decided to go with his tactic of pretending to be asleep. Unlike him, you’re actually able to put on a pretty good act. Your acting abilities are confirmed when you hear him stop dead in the tracks.

“Oh.”

It’s quiet, barely audible, not louder than a slight puff of air, but you hear it loud and clear. Your senses are heightened and focused solely on every sound Jungkook makes. His steps are feather-light, making it difficult for you to follow where he is in the room, but when you feel the mattress dip, you know.

Jungkook moves slowly, not wanting to wake you. You almost smile at his carefulness. Sooyoung would never act like this. (In fact, she would probably bang on doors and turn on the lights just to wake you up and complain to you about how you fell asleep too quickly.) 

Like it weighs a ton, Jungkook slowly lifts the blanket. You want to tell him to hurry and get into bed, but you bite your tongue, letting him do his thing. This must be a world record for the longest time to get into bed, you think.

When he’s finally lying next to you, Jungkook lets out a sigh. You can feel his presence beside you, his body pressing into the pillow. It’s hard not to notice. 

Nothing happens for a few minutes, and you wonder if you could peel your eyes open and take a peek, see his back turned to you. Just as you’re about to though,

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And then, you feel Jungkook tug the blanket closer to your chin, covering you up even more. Heat crawls up your cheeks. You decide to keep your eyes closed.

Your mouth drops open when you see Jungkook’s plate, a marvellous stack of golden brown pancakes with the perfect slap of butter on top and a tiny bowl filled with brown sugary sweet maple syrup. Your bun with jam looks incredibly sad and plain in comparison, unappetising even. When you walked along the buffet, you didn’t see pancakes. How did you miss them?

“You wanna try?” Jungkook asks you, scooting closer with his chair and pointing at his pancakes. You tear your gaze to him.

“No, it’s fine.” 

“You sure?”

He levels you with a serious gaze, and you know he’s not just offering you out of politeness. “Yeah, just eat.”

You try not to look at Jungkook’s plate, eyes focusing on your cup of coffee, but you can’t help but take a peek when he pours the maple syrup on top. It’s illegal how good it looks. He catches you staring. Your eyes grow big before you bring yourself to look away, pretending like you’ve got a piece of lint stuck to your pants.

You bring your cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip. It’s in that moment when Jungkook transfers half of his stack of pancakes onto your plate. You start choking.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, causing other guests to look your way, but you can’t be bothered to give them an apologetic smile. “What are you doing?”

“Just eat,” he tells you and picks up his fork and knife, slicing into his remaining pancakes. You shake your head and quickly put down your cup to give him his food back, but,

“Y/N, don’t you dare. I gave it to you. It’s a gift. You can’t refuse a gift.”

You gawk at him. 

“Jungkook,” you start, but he waves you off again, shoving the bite into his mouth. “It’s your food.”

“Not anymore,” he tells you, mouth still half full, and you think you would have cringed if he hadn’t just given you half of his stacks of pancakes. “It’s really good.” He points at his plate. “You should try.”

Admitting defeat, you heave out a sigh and tear your bun in half, placing it on his plate.

“Y/N-”

“It’s a gift,” you repeat. “You can’t refuse a gift.”

Jungkook stares at you then before smiling and shaking his head. 

He’s inside, handling the checking out, when you realise you’re inherently weak. What other conclusion are you supposed to come to when you can't lift your suitcase into the trunk?

You groan as you try once more, propping up your leg to use as leverage, but it’s not enough. Your stance is weak, and you start toppling. Just before this can end badly, with your butt on the concrete and your suitcase on the floor, your knight in shining armour makes a second appearance. 

Jungkook places one hand behind your back, steadying you, and takes your suitcase from you with the other. Like it weighs nothing, he puts it in the trunk. A part of you is offended by how easy he makes it look.

“You alright?” He turns to you, giving you a worried look. You wave him off, feeling vaguely out of breath. Whether it’s due to you straining to get your suitcase in, or the fact Jungkook still has his hand on your back, you don’t know and also don’t want to know.

“I’m fine,” you huff in the end, and his touch leaves you. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

“Honestly thought you were gonna watch me in the rearview mirror again,” you mumble, and his hands still around the hatchback, gaze finding yours. You crack a smile. “I’m joking. I know you’re not a douche.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a smile on his lips as he does. You fish the keys out of your pocket.

“Ready for another day of driving?”

You’ve been on the road for almost three hours when you decide to make a stop, Jungkook needing to use the restroom.

“I’ll be quick,” he says and is already halfway out of the car but stops when he sees you fumble with your seatbelt.

“I’m getting out too,” you tell him when you notice his look. “My legs are sore. But you can go first. I know you gotta pee.”

“Oh, no, I can wait.”

You don’t respond, far too busy with the seatbelt. Maybe you should not get out. Maybe that’s your sign that staying in the car would be better. But, like all of the times before, Jungkook’s here for your rescue.

“Can I-?”

This time you make sure to pull your hands away fast enough, but you still don’t dare to look as he works on the seatbelt, cheeks ablaze for some reason. Deep down, you know. It’s the proximity. It’s the fact that you can see every mole speckling his skin, the fact that you can cup his cheeks, lift his face to you and push your lips against his-

Oh, God.

It’s the lack of sleep. It’s definitely the lack of sleep.

You close your eyes and bite your tongue, focusing on thinking about anything but how close Jungkook is to you.

You only open your eyes when you hear the click of your seatbelt. Jungkook leans back, and you start to breathe again.

“What would you do without me?” he asks, grinning, and you don’t meet his gaze.

“Probably be stuck in the car forever,” you say, swallowing thickly, the words coming out breathlessly.

He grins, picking up on none of that. “Probably.”

The moment your feet hit the concrete, you sigh, in need of some movement. Your mother’s right. Driving so long really is not good for your health.

Jungkook trails behind you as you walk into the little convenience store, your steps much more hurried than his. He almost bumps into you when you stop dead in your tracks. He’s about to ask you what’s wrong when he sees the other customers, all men, older men. It’s an intimidating sight. You swallow, reminded of yesterday.

“You alright?” Jungkook asks quietly, giving you a smile and stepping in front of you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you say and clear your throat. “I mean yeah, I’m alright. It’s just-”

“You want to hold my hand?” 

The question catches you off guard. You look up to Jungkook. “W-what?”

“You know because-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence and just looks behind him. You don’t follow his gaze because you know what he’s saying. You take this short moment to admire his face, the softness of it.

“I mean you also don’t gotta,” he clears his throat. “Just so we can prevent yesterday from happening-”

Jungkook stops when you take his hands into yours, fingers slotting with his. He looks down before meeting your gaze, a smile spreading on his lips.

“Thanks,” you whisper into his arm, and he squeezes your hand.

“Anytime.”

‘Everybody Talks’ by Neon Trees just finished playing when Jungkook turns his head to you, his phone in his hand.

“Joon texted they got back,” he tells you, and you hum. “Reminds me, you never told me why Joon and Soo were out of town.”

“Did I not say?” You pucker your forehead. “Well, you know how it’s Joon’s and Soo’s anniversary?” He nods. “Well, he decided to take out Soo for a romantic getaway.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Jungkook says, and you wrinkle your nose.

“You mean gross.”

“You think so?”

“You don’t?” you shoot back and look at him, raising a brow. You focus on the road again. “Also, look how their romantic getaway turned out. They ended up missing the roadtrip, and now we’re stuck here.”

Jungkook eyes you, words clearly sitting on his tongue, but he swallows them. 

“I guess.”

So far you haven’t hit traffic yet. So when you do after hours of travelling, you can’t even be pissed. You are, however, bored. 

Because there’s a sleeping Jungkook to your right, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his head stiffly pulled back. 

You keep yourself entertained by playing the playlist he and you created through your earbuds, quietly jamming to it until you run out of songs and start adding to it. 

You just added ‘warm’ by Junggigo and ‘Butterflies’ by Fiji Blue to the playlist when Jungkook shifts next to you. Your gaze lands on him, and you hold your breath as you watch him stir and stir until slowly, he peels his eyes open.

The first thing he does is groan.

“Ah, fuck.”

His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep, and his face contorts with pain. You know it’s his neck. Your assumption is confirmed when he holds it, rubbing it.

“Morning,” you greet him, quietly, earphones and phone landing in your lap. “You okay?”

Jungkook looks at you, putting on a smile.

“Hey, yeah, morning. I’m fine.” He’s definitely not. “I just slept weird.”

Jungkook rubs his eyes and stretches, groaning as he does. He blinks a couple of times, taking everything in.

“One and a half days, right?” he says, sighing. “I mean no traffic. That’s not too bad?”

You hum. “Yeah, guess we’re lucky we only hit traffic now.”

Jungkook exhales again, long and heavy, still somewhat drowsy, and looks out the window, taking in the beautiful blue sky.

“You wanna play a game?”

You turn to him at his sudden question. “A game?”

He smiles, wide awake now. “Yeah, to pass the time.”

You hum. “What game?”

“21 questions.”

“When you said play a game, you meant... ask me questions?” you say and smile when you see the look on his face.

“Well, it’s still a game-”

You give him a look, nose scrunching. “Sure,” you say. “Now hit me. What’s your question?”

“Okay, so,” a knit forms between Jungkook’s brows, “do you want to improve the world we live in?”

You still, and turn to Jungkook, your face twisting in confusion. “That’s your question? I thought 21 questions was meant to be casual, not deep.”

“Just answer the question, Y/N,” he says. “Or what? You’re too scared?”

You raise a brow. “Too scared? You think I’m too scared?” You laugh and shake your head. 

“Fine, yes, I do,” you sigh. “I do wanna improve the world. I mean obviously, right? The world is shit, so of course I wanna change it.” You pause. “Do I think I will? No. But would I like to? Sure.”

Jungkook smiles. “See! I feel like I know you much better already. Okay, what would-”

“What are you doing? What game is this when I’m the only one answering questions? This isn’t an interview, right?”

He sighs. “Fine, my answer’s the same-”

“You’re not answering the same question. That’s boring,” you say and click your tongue. “No, you’re gonna tell me—” You pause to think, a knit forming between your brows. You light up when you come up with something. “—what your biggest weakness is.”

“I thought this was not meant to be an interview?” 

“Just answer the question, Jungkook,” you parrot. “Or what? You’re too scared?”

And then he shakes his head before puckering his forehead in thought. “I suck at social interactions. Like, I’m awkward as shit.”

You click your tongue. “Doesn’t count.”

“What do you mean-”

“It means I already know that and these questions are supposed to get me to know you better. Think of another weakness.”

Jungkook grumbles but doesn’t protest it, pausing to think. “I can’t think of anything else right now-”

“Are you saying you’ve got no other weakness?” You drive up when the line moves. “Wow, that’s arrogant.”

“Fine, let me think.” He pauses, and you’re about to tell him it’s fine when he continues. “I guess I’m immature- well, immature isn’t the right word. I think I’m sometimes a bit... reckless.” He levels you with a look. “Good enough?”

You hum. “A great weakness. You’re hired.”

Jungkook grumbles. “Okay, now my turn. What would you change about yourself?”

“Change about myself?” you repeat under your breath, scrunching your nose as you think about it. 

“I mean I think I’d like to be more disciplined. Have more self-control, you know?” You press your mouth into a line. “I’m not a very confrontational person either. If I can, I will avoid uncomfortable situations at all cost, even if that means it inconveniences me.” You shrug. “I feel like there’s always something to change though, right? We could always work on ourselves and be a better and kinder version of ourselves, don’t you think?”

“Wow, you must be great at interviews,” he says, and you grin. “Your turn.”

You hum as you try to think of a question. “Tell me your greatest strength.”

“You know you’re asking awfully lot of interview questions for the fact that you teased me-”

“Just answer the question, Jungkook,” you repeat. “Or what? You’re too-”

“My greatest strength,” he interrupts loudly, and you grin, “is probably… my patience. Also, I feel like I’m pretty nice once you get to know me and get past all of the, you know, awkwardness.”

You let out a high pitched sound. “Don’t know if I’d agree.”

He snaps his head to you, eyes blown out, and the way he’s looking at you now reminds you of the way he stared at you when you told him Sooyoung and Namjoon weren’t coming. Once again, you’re convinced if you slap him on the back of his head, his eyes would fall out.

“Y/N!”

“I’m joking!”

Jungkook stares at you, face hard and serious. You know you should take him seriously, but all you can do is laugh when you look at him. 

“Stop teasing me!”

“It’s fun though,” you tell him, smiling. “Also you’re gullible. Another weakness.”

The groan that escapes him only makes your smile widen even more. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles and crosses his arms in front of his chest. You want to poke him in the cheek and tease him for being such a moody teenager, but you think that will earn you a glare.

“You still wanna play your little game?”

“I thought it wasn’t a game-”

“So you don’t.”

Your words have Jungkook snapping his head to you, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. On one hand, he wants to tease you. On the other hand, he does want to continue playing. At this point, you’re beaming.

“Just ask,” you say as a sort of peace offering, a silent promise you’ll stop teasing him so much (for now at least). And he takes it, somewhat reluctantly but definitely gladly.

“What’s your biggest regret?”

You pause, and almost forget to drive up when the line moves. Unlike with the previous questions, you think a lot longer about this one, a sight that makes Jungkook smile.

“Good question, isn’t it? Got no answer, do you?”

“Well, you tell me your biggest regret then.”

He tsks you. “This is your question. You gotta answer it, not me.”

You purse your lips and think. “Probably when I decided cutting my hair with a pair of blunt kitchen scissors was a good idea. You’ll find no pictures of me during junior year.”

“That’s your only regret?” He arches a brow. 

“I once touched the hot stovetop and burned myself pretty badly.”

“How old were you?”

“Six maybe?”

“That doesn’t count then,” he tells you, and as much as you want to protest, you know he’s right. Being a kid and doing stupid stuff is a given. It shouldn’t be a regret.

You sigh. 

The only other thing you can come up with is the time you decided to hook up with Jungkook. It’s not the act in itself was something you regretted, but it just feels weird for you to share such a history with him. It’s unlike you. You know in a separate universe he and you hooking up probably lead to something more, a relationship maybe, one that you grew happy being in. But this isn’t the universe in which you get together with Jungkook. It’s the one in which you have to anxiously sit next to him as you hope he’ll never remember you.

“Well, I have had too much and done some stupid stuff,” you tentatively begin, trying to be as vague as possible, not wanting to possibly jumpstart Jungkook’s memories.

“Like?”

You look out your window and press your hands into your thighs. “Like think I can dance or sing all of a sudden, or that texting my ex is a brilliant idea.”

“Feel like we’ve all done that.”

His eyes are on you. You can feel it, and you know he’s not letting this go until you give him something.

“Well, once I…. went home with this guy.” 

You instantly regret speaking. You don’t dare to look at Jungkook, far too scared that recognition might reflect in his eyes. You don’t know what you would do then.

“He was that bad, huh?” A laugh accompanies his question, and you try to mimic it, keeping the atmosphere light.

“I mean no, but it’s just… not like me at all, you know?” You gesture around yourself. “To hook up with people. Not something I’d do sober. It’s just… embarrassing. It has nothing to do with him, just- you know, me-”

Jungkook looks at you then, his mouth opening to say something, but you stop him, desperate to change the topic.

“Oh,” you pick up your phone, “right! I’ve, uh, added a couple of new songs to the playlist.”

He knows what you’re doing. Jungkook’s not stupid. But thankfully, he lets you off the hook.

“Put them on.”

“I’m banning McDonald’s,” you say when you walk out of the third clown restaurant in less than two days. “I can’t do this again.”

Jungkook laughs next to you, still sipping on his coke. “Well, it does look like we’re gonna be at the hotel early. We can go look for a proper place to have dinner then.”

“Please,” you sigh and tuck a strand behind your ear when you feel a gust of wind. Your steps are exceptionally slow, stomach filled with a mediocre cheeseburger and greasy fries.

“Alright, we’ll do that then,” Jungkook hums. “Keys?”

You fish them out of your pocket and hand them to him. You’ve fallen into a routine. Around lunchtime, you switch. 

You perk up when you see Jungkook rub his neck, face twisted in pain. You’ve already noticed him rubbing his neck earlier when you were eating. 

“Hey,” he stops and looks at you, “I just remembered. I need something from the store.” You point at the little convenience store next to McDonald’s. “Go ahead. I’ll be right back.”

And before Jungkook can offer to go with you, you walk inside, hoping you’ll find what you’re looking for. They must have them here too, you think. It takes you a minute to find them, but when you do, you beam. But your smile is quickly replaced by a frown when you see the price. When you remember how he’s been rubbing and massaging his neck for the last hour, it disappears and you walk over to the checkout.

Jungkook replaced his coke for his phone when you come back, a frown etching into his face when he sees the plastic bag you’re holding.

“What did you-”

He stills when you pull it out. You hold it out to him.

“It’s for you.” 

You shove it into his hands.

“Y/N,” he begins, voice soft and quiet, face softening. “Why?”

“Because obviously, your neck is hurting. Now, try it out.”

Jungkook gives you a look before sighing and putting the neck pillow around his neck, leaning into it.

“And? You feel supported?”

He smiles. “Very.”

You ball up the plastic bag and throw it into the back. “Great.”

“How much was it? It must have been so expensive,” Jungkook says, and you roll your eyes. “I’ll pay you-”

“No, you’re not,” you say. 

“Just tell me how-”

“No.”

He removes the neck pillow and levels you with a look. 

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook,” you repeat, not nearly as serious though. 

The corners of your lips quirk up when he heaves out a sigh. He closes his eyes. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“Of course not,” you grin and put on your seatbelt. “Now drive. I wanna have a proper dinner.”

Even though you’ve never been to this city before, the park reminds you oddly enough of your local park. You think it’s the Magnolia trees.

Looking around, you’re glad Jungkook suggested you get takeout instead of sitting in the little dingy Chinese diner when your initial plans of going to the city’s best sushi place fell through. (They didn’t accept walk-ins.) As sad as it was (and it really was because Jungkook spent an hour comparing dozens of restaurants on Yelp and sacrificed a good chunk of his data), you’re happy you ended up in the park. Something about having dinner under the summer sky is just especially calming and beautiful, the warm sticky evening air blowing in your face. 

“I like it here,” you tell Jungkook, and he hums, mouth stuffed with fried rice.

“It’s nice,” he agrees with you, and you pick up your chopsticks again, shovelling your noodles into your mouth. “But the food…”

He trails off, and you almost start laughing. 

“Yeah, it’s not great,” you say and swallow. “The noodles are weirdly greasy.”

“Yeah, I can see.” Jungkook points at your oil-soaked paper container. “The rice is not good either. Too wet, and it has a weird aftertaste too.”

You hum. You did switch to noddles for a reason. 

“But,” you look at him, pulling up a chopstick full of noodles, “still better than McDonald’s.”

“That’s for sure, and,” he picks up a spring roll from your shared box sitting between you on the bank, “the spring rolls are actually really fucking good.”

You grab one for yourself. “Yeah, they got those right.” 

The sun isn’t setting just yet, but it is slowly losing its vibrancy, fading into the background. The light it does have left filters beautifully through the leaves and flowers of the Magnolia trees, creating soft and delicate shadows on the concrete that dance in rhythm with the wind. You sit right underneath a majestic Magnolia tree, and from your bench, you can see a small family of three having a nice little picnic on your left and a group of kids playing football on your right. You tuck your hair out of your face when a breeze blows past you. It’s not too hot or humid today.

It’s the perfect summer day.

And once again, you notice how fading and fleeting the warm months are, notice how it’s all slowly coming to a bittersweet ending, how this trip will be the thing defining your summer until next year. You smile at that thought. Oddly enough, you’re fine with that.

“It’s a really beautiful day though,” you mumble, and Jungkook looks over to you, mouth stuffed with fried rice. He pauses. “Makes up for the mediocre food.”

He sticks his chopsticks into the rice (something his mother would scold him for) and wipes his mouth. His eyes are on you, solely on you. You don’t notice. He smiles.

“Beautiful indeed.”

When you finish eating (and by finish you mean when neither of you can stomach any longer of the mediocre Chinese food without risking possibly getting food poisoning), the sun has slowly begun to set, golden hour coming to an end. The little family is long gone at this point, and the group of kids you watched a minute ago are nowhere to be seen either. 

You’re gathering up your leftovers, packing them all up and making sure to leave nothing behind, when Jungkook suddenly straightens up. You’re far too busy to notice it, and by the time you do, he’s already up and walking away, leaving you without an explanation.

“Uh-”

The rest of your sentence gets lodged in your throat when he begins to run. You see it then. An ice cream truck. You hear it then too, the faint little tune coming from it. You spot the group of kids huddled around it, holding their wallets up in the air. That’s where they went, you think.

When Jungkook comes back, you’ve long finished packing everything up.

“Here,” he says, holding out a Spiderman shaped ice cream to you. “I mean unless you want Iron Man.”

You laugh and gladly accept Spiderman. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you gonna let me repay you?”

And when Jungkook just moves the plastic bags to the side and sits down next to you, you know the answer. 

Is it a good idea to eat ice cream so shortly after all of that Chinese food? Definitely not. Do either of you care? Not at all.

“You think they’re on a date?” you ask when you spot two teenagers by the ice cream truck. Even from afar, you can see their fidgeting. You smile, remembering how you used to be like that too. Sometimes still are even.

“Look at him,” Jungkook laughs, gesturing towards the boy. “They’re definitely on a date. You can see he wants to hold her hand.”

You hum and go back to eating.

“You think people think we’re dating when they look at us?”

You stop. For a moment, you don’t react at all until it hits you and you snap your gaze to Jungkook, eyes wide.

“W-what?” you sputter and almost choke.

Jungkook instantly begins to laugh, a gigantic smile growing on his lips. “What? Is it so bad if people might think that?” he asks, taking a bite from his ice cream, and you would have cringed and told him not to do that if your brain wasn’t reeling from his question.

“I- what? I-I don’t-”

You stop when he laughs even more, and soon enough your face twists in annoyance, nose scrunching. A pout grows on your lips and you avert your gaze, cheeks ablaze.

“It’s not funny,” you inform him, but Jungkook doesn’t agree, grinning at you. “But no, I don’t think so.” 

You still don’t look at him when you speak.

“Really?” There’s disbelief in his voice. “I mean I’m not trying to imply anything, but, you know, you and I are sitting on the bench together, eating ice cream and-”

“Sure, yeah, but this is also not a romcom in which we dance under the stars, go on coffee shop dates, and sneak out to meet in the middle of the night, Jungkook,” you interrupt, the words spilling from your lips quickly. “This is the 21st century. People no longer assume we’re dating because you’re a guy and I’m a girl and we’re having ice-”

“Didn’t you assume that they’re dating because they are a guy and girl getting ice cream?” Jungkook asks and points at the two teenagers. You still and press your mouth into a line.

His gaze lingers on you as he waits and waits for your defence. You can’t come up with anything though. So in a desperate attempt to save face, you get up and grab one of the plastic bags. 

“I’m tired,” you announce, voice thin and weak.

You know Jungkook’s smirking. You expect a comment, but nothing follows. He just gets up, grabs the other bag and happily takes another bite from his Iron Man ice cream as he catches up with you.

This time you didn’t fuck up the reservations. This time there are two beds, so when you get back, there’s no discussion and fight about who takes the couch. This time you both just claim your beds.

Jungkook lets you have the bathroom first, and when you’re done, showered and washed up, you find him eating the rice from before.

“Thought it tasted off,” you say as you dry your hair with a towel, and he hums.

“It does,” he looks at you, “but it’s still food.”

You smile and sit down on the bed, pulling out your phone and checking your messages; assuring your mother you’re fine, making plans with Yeji and Sana to go shopping after the trip, and telling Sooyoung you’re back in the hotel.

“Gonna wash up,” Jungkook tells you, and you look up to find him no longer eating, everything packed up.

“Alright.”

The call comes right when you hear the shower turn on.

“Y/N!” Sooyoung greets you, the smile audible in her voice.

“Hey,” you mumble and lie down, rubbing your eyes and suppressing a yawn. “What’s up?”

“Oh, I just wanted to check in with you.” You look over to the bathroom. The shower is still running. You have time. “How’s it with Kook?”

You press your lips together. “Fine.”

“See!” You have to hold your phone away from your ear, cringing at her volume. “I told you it wasn’t gonna be bad!”

“Yeah, whatever,” you mumble and sigh, closing your eyes as you feel the exhaustion taking over you more and more. 

“How did you solve the bed dilemma yesterday?”

“Soo,” you press through your teeth, hoping it’s enough for her to get the message.

“Oh, Y/N, just tell me! Did you guys sleep in one bed?”

You pinch your nose bridge and sigh. “Please, stop.”

“You gotta tell me! Don’t leave me hanging like that,” she tells you, and you want to groan, but refrain when you hear the shower stop.

“He took the couch, okay? Happy?” you hiss. It’s not a complete lie. Jungkook did take the couch, for around ten minutes.

“Oh, did he? How gentleman of Kook,” Sooyoung says, but you hear a smirk on her lips. You frown. “But,” your heart sinks in your chest, “Joon told me Kook told him you ended up sharing the bed.”

“I’m hanging up again,” you say and end the call early once more.

When Jungkook comes back, you’re already tucked in, phone charging on the nightstand and eyes squeezed shut. You hear him still at your sight before his footsteps resume again. 

There’s silence. 

Until there isn’t.

A thud.

You turn on the lamp, just to see Jungkook sitting on a sunken bed.

“Did you break-”

He presses his mouth into a thin line.

“Yup.”

Jungkook didn’t break the bed. The hotel staff informs you there’s a loose screw. It’s been fixed but needs fixing again. They apologise profusely.

You sigh when he finishes relaying all of the information. “So moving rooms, huh?”

“Yeah, uh, about that...” 

Jungkook gives you a look you can’t place, but when he picks up the bedding and throws it all on the couch, it dawns on you.

“Don’t tell me…” You don’t finish your sentence. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Seems like a lot of people are going on roadtrips now.”

You bury your face in your hands. This feels like a fucking joke. Sooyoung’s right. What in the Wattpad fanfiction is this?

“Okay, but clearly I’m sleeping on the couch,” you say, and Jungkook’s quick to lie down before you can act.

“Look, Y/N, let’s not do this again. It’s my bed that broke, so I should sleep-”

“But your neck!”

“Goodnight.”

And with that, Jungkook pulls the cover over his body and turns his back to you, letting out the most obnoxiously loud and fake snore. 

This time it’s not a full-size bed. This time it’s just a twin size bed. This time you still can’t let Jungkook sleep on that stupidly small couch, not with his neck pain for sure. (Why can’t hotels have decently sized couches?)

“You’re not gonna let me sleep on the couch, are you?” 

You get a loud snore in response. You heave out a sigh.

“Can I trust you?”

There’s no snoring this time. You think he knows where you’re going with this. You fumble with the covers, heart thumping in your chest.

“We can’t… put a barrier this time.”

And like he’s been stung, Jungkook sits up, his eyes wide as he looks at you. You look away, and you hope the lamp is dim enough to hide the embarrassment etched into your face.

“Just-” Your voice is weak, cracking. You’re running out of air. “I can trust you, right?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s eyes soften. “Y/N, I’m really fine with sleeping on the-”

“Well—” You tuck a strand behind your ear, feeling hot all of a sudden. The AC is running though? “—I’m not. You’ve got the neck pain and the couch is also fucking tiny. Just, you know, don’t be…. weird.”

You’re certain. The AC must be broken. How else is it possible that your entire body is on fire, burning up as you speak? That must be it. The AC must have just broken.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, thinks about your proposal, and you can hear your heart grow louder in your chest, pounding harder against your rib cage.

“Are you sure?”

He asks this quietly and tentatively. It gives you the courage to look back at him. He levels you with the same look he gave you when you offered to sleep in the same bed before. You hold his gaze, somehow.

“Yeah.”

And then, Jungkook gets up, taking his bedding with him, but you stop him.

“I don’t think-”

He pauses and you gesture at the bed to finish your sentence. There’s no space. That’s what you want to say, but it never leaves your lips. He understands though, and leaves the bedding on the couch.

There’s an awkwardness hanging between you as Jungkook walks over. It’s comical really, especially when you think about the fact that he and you have done a lot more than sleep in a bed together. Sure, you had alcohol buzzing through your systems then, but still, it’s ridiculous how tense it is right now.

When he lifts the cover, you can instantly feel the tininess of the bed. He and you will be sleeping centimetres apart from each other.

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologises when he bums your hand with his, clumsily slipping into bed. The apology is pointless though because his entire arm ends up being pressed against yours.

“I’m just gonna-” 

You don’t finish speaking and just turn on your side, back facing towards him. He nods before doing the same. You turn off the lamp. Jungkook shifts, and when you peek over your shoulder, you see him lying on the edge of the mattress, on the brink of falling out of the bed.

You sigh. “Do you-”

He perks up when you speak, and you have to pause to gather your voice. It’s hoarse for some reason.

“Do you want to come closer?”

You whisper the question. It’s barely audible, but with Jungkookso close to you, he hears it, clearly, like you whispered it into his ear.

“I’m fine-”

“You’re falling off the bed,” you tell him, and close your eyes before forcing the words out, clearing your throat. “If you want to, you can, uh, put your arm around me.”

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything. You think he’s going to decline, tell you it’s the last thing he would want-

“Are you, uh, sure?”

You want to throw the covers to the side. It’s too damn hot, your face on fire at this point.

“Yeah.”

Nothing happens and for a while, all you hear is his breathing before he starts to shift, his arm lifting underneath the cover and hesitantly sneaking around your middle.

“Is this, uh, okay?” he asks, careful to not put too much pressure on you, and you nod.

“Y-yeah.”

He clears his throat. “Alright.”

Jungkook is breathing into your neck. He must be close, you think, so close that if you turned, your lips would almost be touching. You squeeze your eyes shut at the thought, glad you’re facing away from him.

“Goodnight.”

You can’t tell him the same, your voice long gone at this point. 

“This is why you wanted to check out so early?” Jungkook thanks the waitress when she takes back the menu. “So we could have breakfast?”

Your face is scrunched up in a frown, confusion etched into your features. “Why couldn’t we just have breakfast at the hotel?”

Jungkook beams at you. “Hotel breakfast doesn’t compare to café breakfast, does it?”

“Yeah, but I could have slept another hour,” you say and run a hand through your hair, rubbing your eyes.

“Slept that badly, huh?”

You look at Jungkook. His face is twisted in something you can’t pinpoint.

“Stop,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’m just always tired.”

He doesn’t respond then, and just curls his fingers around the orange cup, sipping on his coffee.

You’re not lying. You actually didn’t sleep badly, and you think you should assure him of that, tell Jungkook that you’re naturally always tired because you’re a college student, that sharing a bed with him isn’t the reason for your exhaustion, but somehow, you can’t will yourself to form the words.

“It’s nice here,” you say, looking around the café, the scnet of buttery pastries and freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, powdered sugar floating around, the quiet hissing of the coffee machine in the back accompanying the piano music playing through the speakers.

“Best café in the city,” Jungkook told you, and you raise a brow.

“Did you scour Yelp-”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

Jungkook makes a face then, and you know longer than anyone else would, hours at least. You shake your head in disbelief and mutter under your breath, “You’ve got too much time on your hands.”

“Well, you like it here right? Totally worth it then,” he says, and as much as you don’t want to, heat crawls up your neck.

Your food arrives shortly after; a handful of golden brown waffles topped with powdered sugar, slices of strawberries and blueberries, and a steaming buttery croissant with jam on the side. The sight is Instagram worthy, your jaw dropping wide open.

“See, scouring Yelp for hours on end was worth it,” Jungkook grins, taking a picture of your food, and you frown.

“How much did you sleep?” you ask, reaching for your coffee and blowing across the surface, narrowing your eyes. There’s a click when you put it back on its saucer, a drop of coffee spilling on it. Brown clashing with washed-out purple.

“Enough,” he tells you, and you know he’s lying, the espresso shot he had added to his coffee selling him out. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s just eat.”

You comply, ripping your freshly baked croissant in half, steam wafting from it in hazy waves. You place one half onto Jungkook’s plate. He does the same, transferring half of his waffles to you.

“Is this what we do now?” he asks you when you pick up some of the jam with the tip of the butter knife.

“Seems like it.”

You smile at each other.

“Thank you,” you mumble when Jungkook helps you, once again, to click off the seatbelt. “One day I’ll be able to do it myself.”

He smiles and throws the door shut. You jump out too. “Sure, Y/N. One day.”

You give him a look, and he offers you a smile. Side by side, you walk across the mostly empty parking lot before entering the convenience store. They all look more or less the same, you realise. You see no difference between this one and the first one you walked into.

Jungkook takes your hand into his almost automatically, and you don’t even stop for a second to think about it, gripping it back.

“Is this what we do now?” you ask as you browse through the aisle, looking for something that’s not chips and nuts.

He smiles. “Seems like it.”

You give him a look before shaking your head and leading him towards the refrigerator aisle, eyes finding a prepackaged box of sushi.

“Hey, you in the mood for sushi?” You pick up a box, inspecting it carefully. It doesn’t look too bad actually.

“When am I not?” he shoots back, and it’s decided then. Rest stop sushi for lunch it is.

You pick up another box and hand it to Jungkook before walking over to the checkout, grabbing two water bottles on your way there. The clerk hasn’t even begun ringing you up when you pull out your wallet and place an obscene amount of bills on the counter.

“Y/N!” Jungkook protests, but you ignore him, shoving his wallet to the side.

“You should have let me pay,” he tells you when you walk out of the store, still holding hands for some reason, and you snort.

“Well, then you should let me pay for gas.”

“I have let you-”

“Once.”

“Twice!”

You click your tongue. “You should let me pay every time.”

Without looking, you know he’s rolling his eyes. You don’t care, a smile on your lips. Paying for lunch is a win in your books. You’re sure you’ll be paying for gas too by the end of the trip.

The sushi is mediocre at best, and worse than the Chinese takeout you had yesterday at worst, but for some reason, neither Jungkook nor you stop eating. The wasabi helps. It overpowers the refrigerator taste that’s stuck to the rice.

And as you eat, occasionally taking sips from your water, watching the cars speed past you on the highway with the AC blasting in your faces because it’s still summer and your roadtrip playlist playing in the background, you have to smile. You don’t know why, but a smile just finds your lips. And when you look over to Jungkook, it widens. Even more when he notices your gaze and gives you a smile too.

Once more, you realise how beautiful summer is, how everything feels possible and impossible at the same time, how every hour reminds you of a childhood you’ve never had, how the months are filled with either melancholy or exhilaration.

You spent too much time at the rest stop, you conclude, when you arrive at the hotel, much later than planned. Because after you both finished your sushi, you suggested walking off the food. So, you both jumped out again, and walked a couple of laps, talking about everything and nothing. And hitting traffic soon after certainly delayed things by quite a bit as well.

The problem with arriving later than planned at the hotel means responding to your mother later than planned, so when you finally do, you’re not surprised your phone lights up with a call from her a minute later.

You look over your shoulder. Jungkook just went into the bathroom, meaning you had around ten minutes to get this done if sharing a hotel room with him for the past three days taught you anything. That should be more than enough.

You’re met with the usual questions—are you alright? Did you eat? Are you enjoying yourself?—and you answer them all with relative ease, staying quiet when your mother scolds you for having chips as dinner. It’s a like any, until-

“Yes, I will-”

You’re cut off by the sound of Jungkook’s soothingly soft singing that’s very much deserving of praise and attention any other day but elicits panic in you now. 

“Uh,” you start coughing and making extra noise, hoping to drown out Jungkook as you quickly walk out into the hallway, grabbing the key card before the door clicks shut.

“Are you sick, honey?” your mother asks.

“Oh, no, no, I just… choked on water,” you explain to her quickly. “I’m fine though.”

“Yeah? Be careful.” 

You hum, glad she didn’t bring up the-

“Also, who was singing just now?”

You screw your eyes shut and curse.

“Singing?” You try your best to sound confused. “What singing?”

Your mother shifts on the other side, and you would have definitely caved under her gaze if she was in front of you now. 

“Didn’t you hear? For a moment before you started choking, I heard a voice, singing. A boy, I think.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know-”

It’s the faint call of your name that halts you. You look at the door. It’s coming from there, you think. You pause to listen but nothing. You’re about to go back to dismissing your mother when the door opens, and a freshly showered Jungkook stands in front of you, hair dripping with water, droplets landing on his shirt, his eyes big.

“Y/N,” he says at your sight. “God, I already wondered where-”

“Mom, sorry, I gotta, uh, go-”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Y/N,” your mother interrupts you, and you freeze, feeling like a child. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s, face contorted in horror. He presses his mouth shut, offering you an apologetic look.

“Who’s that?”

You close your eyes for a moment. “Jungkook.”

You don’t look at him when you speak his name.

There’s a long pause. “Can I talk to him?

And although she worded it like a question, you know it’s not. You hold your phone towards Jungkook, and his eyes grow gigantic. He shakes his head, backing away, but you shove it into his hands, mouthing to him just how sorry you were.

“Uh, h-hello?”

You push him back into the room, almost stumbling over his own feet as he does. You take your phone from him and put it on speaker.

“... to meet you.”

“Ah, yes, very, uh, nice to meet you too, Ms Y/L/N,” Jungkook coughs out and you sit down on the edge of Jungkook’s bed. (Yes, there are two beds, neither broken.”

“I just heard you singing,” your mother informs him, and you throw your hands into the air. How in the hell did she hear him?

“Oh.” 

Jungkook looks terrified, and you grab onto his hand resting on the bed, awaiting your mother’s words with him, sharing nervous looks. He interlocks his fingers with yours, your thumb brushing over his tattooed knuckles.

“No need to be embarrassed,” she says with a smile. “You’ve got a good voice.”

“T-thank you very much.”

There’s a pause then, and you lock eyes with Jungkook once more. You think maybe you can take the phone from him, but right just as you’re about to, your mother begins again,

“In what kind of relationship are you with my daughter?”

You think it's the straightforwardness of the question, the bluntness and casualness she asks it with. It has your jaw dropping open and your eyes screwing shut in horror. Embarrassment flushes through you, and you want to say something, but the words are all muddled on your tongue.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

You can’t even bring yourself to look at Jungkook, too mortified to peek into his direction.

“Uh, I-” He’s stammering, struggling to find his voice, and you can’t blame him, words failing you and refusing to come out too. What you can’t understand though is when he decides to say this, 

“Yes.”

You think you would have had a bigger reaction if you weren’t so tired. But you are, so all you do is stare ahead of you for a few seconds before crashing down on the bed, face burying into your hands.

“Oh,” your mother says, and you don’t know if she’s happy or not, if she’s going to ask Jungkook to give back your phone and scold you like she did sophomore year. “For how long now?”

“N-not long.”

“But you are serious, right?”

“Y-”

You shoot up and take your phone from Jungkook, putting an end to this before he can spew more bullshit.

“Mom, we gotta go,” you quickly say. “We’ll talk later. Bye.”

And before your mother can tell you not to hang up on her, you do and throw your phone to the side. Silence hits you, and you close your eyes again, not wanting to look at Jungkook. He shifts next to you and clears his throat. It takes you a while, but when you think you’re not going to end up strangling him, you peel your eyes open. 

Your mouth parts to speak, but no words leave you. It takes you a few tries to find your voice. All you manage is a simple but desperate and confused, “Why?”

“I got nervous-”

“So you told my mom we are dating?” you exclaim, snapping back, and stare at Jungkook. He doesn’t meet your gaze, wringing out his hands.

“Well, I- you know how awkward I am!” he argues, but it does nothing to calm you, exasperation carved into your face. “When she asked if we were dating, I-I just panicked, okay? I didn’t know what to say and-”

He deflates, and you’re stuck between deciding to yell at him and silently passing away. In the end, you choose the latter, burying your face in your hands and leaning back. You can already feel the headache building up. Your mother won’t let this go. You’ll hear an earful. As much as you love her, it’s frustrating how she still sees you as a child in need of protection every step of the way.

“I’m tired,” you say after a while. You don’t know how much time has passed. 

Neither of you have moved. There’s heaviness in the air. You get up without a word, slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You don’t hear the sigh Jungkook lets out.

And with that, you’re knocked right back to the starting point. All of the progress you’ve made in the last three days, the friendship you’ve built, crumbles right to the floor, lying there in shards.

You can’t sleep.

Again, it’s not unusual for you to struggle to fall asleep on your first night at a hotel. The mattress is either too comfortable or not comfortable enough. The cover is either too thick or not thick enough. The pillow either sinks in too much or- You get the point. But you know that’s not why you can’t sleep. It’s the heaviness that weighs down your chest, the tension that fills every corner and crack of the room, the rigidness you inhale with every breath.

You turn on your back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook on his back too. The two of you lying in your respective beds, and even though you’re only a handful of steps away from each other, it feels like a rift, a gaping hole, splitting you up, stranding both of you on your own lonely islands.

“Y/N?”

It’s quiet, tentatively.

“Yeah?”

Your voice sounds short and odd. You’re no longer mad- you don’t even think you were that to begin with. You were just… frustrated.

“I’m sorry.”

You turn your head to him and grip the covers. Words sit at the back of your throat, assurances that he doesn’t need to apologise, but before they can form on your tongue and spill out, he continues.

“I-I know that I put you in a weird spot, but I just-” There’s a pause, followed up with a sigh. “If you want, I’ll explain it to your mother- I just got flustered and nervous. And you’ve got every right to be mad at me, but just know I am sorry-”

He halts when you sit up and turn on the lamp. You both blink at the sudden brightness, but you move on quickly, needing to set the record straight.

“Jungkook, no,” you begin, shaking your head, eyes staring firmly into his, “don’t apologise. You don’t have to talk to my mother, I’ll figure it out myself. And actually, I wasn’t mad at you. I was just,” your gaze lowers, “frustrated because- my mother, she’s a bit protective of me, you know? She’s always been super critical of the guys I date, you know? And I’m just gonna get an earful-”

You pause and take a moment to breathe. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I should apologise. So I’m sorry, Jungkook. I put you in a weird spot. I’m truly sorry for that.”

He sits up too, crossing his legs. A soft smile finds his face. “Looks like we’re both sorry, huh?”

“I’m more though.”

His smile turns into a grin. “No, I am.”

You raise a brow. “Pretty sure I am.”

He tuts you. “I’m going to have to politely and respectfully disagree with you. I definitely feel more sorry.”

You hold his gaze. “This is gonna go on and on, isn’t it?” When he smiles, you sigh. “I’m going back to sleep. Goodnight.”

You turn off the lamp. He laughs.

And even though the issue is resolved, you don’t slip into sleep. It’s like the exhaustion that plagued you previously has dissipated, and for some reason, you’re cold. It keeps you up. You want to turn off the AC, but you don’t want to get up either and risk waking up Jungkook. So you do nothing.

An eternity passes, and you still find no sleep. Your eyes trace over to Jungkook’s side. He has his back turned to you. You press your lips into a line. In the dark, you can’t figure out if he’s sleeping or not.

“Jungkook?”

And like you yelled his name, he snaps his head around. “Yeah?”

He’s wide awake. Still, you keep your voice small when you continue, “Are you sleeping?”

“Yes, I’m sleeping right as we speak,” he tells you, and you send him a glare in the darkness. You think you can make out a smile on his face.

“I can’t sleep.”

You’re not sure why you tell Jungkook this, how he’s supposed to solve that problem for you, but the words are already out there and you can’t take them back. You expect a snarky comment, something annoying that will make you roll your eyes, but you’re met with the opposite.

“Do you want to watch something?”

You look at him with big eyes. “What would we be watching?”

“Anything you want,” he tells you, and even though you’re very much overwhelmed with the unlimited choice, you smile.

“Let’s.”

And just like that, the lights get turned on again, the night feeling foolishly young once more. 

Jungkook digs out his laptop from his suitcase and you fish out the only bag of chips you have left from the first day.

“Where do we…”

You trail off, but Jungkook knows what you’re asking. 

“My bed?” 

You nod and grab your pillow while he sets everything up. 

When you’re both finally in bed, covers thrown over you, hands taking turns to reach into the chips bag, he presents you with the hardest question anyone has ever asked you,

“What do you want to watch?”

You frown as you look at everything Netflix offers. You can’t choose, of course, so you choose to shoot back the question.

“What do you want to watch?”

Jungkook starts scrolling, mouth pressed in a line. “A film or-”

“Film.”

“Alright,” he clicks on the film section, “let’s see what- oh, how about Spirited Away?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, no, no, that’s too scary-”

“Scary?” Jungkook raises a brow.

You look away. “Look, I get scared easily, okay? No face is kinda scary, don’t you think? It’s also the middle of the night-”

“But I’d be watching with you.”

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head no again. “Let’s just watch Totoro.” 

You feel bad for shooting down his suggestion. 

“We can watch Spirited Away after.” You shove a handful of chips into your mouth, mumbling while chewing, “You can protect me then.”

Jungkook looks at you, his hand stilling in the chips bag. You don’t return his gaze.

“You know, since you’re my boyfriend or whatever,” you add quickly and clear your throat, hoping it’s obvious that it’s a joke as you search up Totoro. You don’t have to look to know there’s a smile on his lips.

“Gladly-”

You start the film, and Jungkook quiets down. You don’t feel cold anymore, not with him pressed to your side.

And as you lean back to watch, quietly munching on the chips, you know you were wrong. You weren’t knocked back to the starting point of your friendship. He and you have come a long way, figuratively and literally.

You’re first to wake up.

The first thing you notice is the weird taste in your mouth, and you curse your past self for thinking having chips after brushing your teeth was a good idea. The second thing you notice is the arm around your middle, an arm that unmistakably belongs to none other than Jungkook; the tattoos confirming your assumption. The third thing you notice is just how close he is to you; his breath in your neck, his chest against your back, warmth radiating off him. 

Your heart beats heavy in your chest, heavier than usual. It should scare you, but for some reason, it doesn’t. For some reason, when it’s Jungkook, you feel at ease.

And even though waking up in the same bed as him prompted you to run out last time, you don’t even feel a smidge of that same panic. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. Actually, no, you do feel something. You feel like closing your eyes again, slipping back into slumber with him.

So you do.

Before you drift back though, you wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t run out two years ago.

When you finally wake up, it’s the middle of the day. A glance at the clock and you come to the mortifying realisation that you have exactly five minutes to check out. Clearly, not enough time.

You’re hurrying around the room, picking up everything that belongs to you and throwing it into your suitcase (because even though you didn’t unpack, you still have quite a bit lying around) when Jungkook suddenly stills, neck pillow in his hand.

“Do you want to stay another day?”

“What?”

“I mean, we’re not gonna check out in time anyway, right? And so far we haven’t had the time to explore any of the cities we’ve been in either, so how about we do it now then? Let’s stay another night.”

Your brows knit together. “But I mean…. don’t we have to, you know, drive-”

“It’s just another eight hours until we’re-” He cuts himself off, flicking his wrist. “You know what? Forget it. It’s a stupid idea.”

Jungkook dismisses his suggestion before you can even think about it, going back to packing up, hooking the neck pillow to his bag before grabbing the clothes he has lying around. You watch him for a few seconds before taking out the shirt he just folded and throwing it onto the bed. 

“Let’s stay another day,” you smile, expecting a smile from him too, but Jungkook doesn’t, face twisting in something you can’t figure out. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I ironed the shirt before the trip. It wrinkles really easily,” he tells you quietly, a strange noise coming from the back of his throat. He’s in pain. “But it’s fine. I-I can iron it again. At home. Later. Actually, I didn’t want to wear it on the trip anyway.”

It doesn’t sound fine at all.

You cup your hands in front of your mouth. “I’m so sorry-”

Jungkook stops you from walking over to the bed and desperately try to smooth out the wrinkles, shaking his head. 

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he assures you again, and now it actually sounds fine. “Really, it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him nevertheless and rub your hands together, eyes drifting to the side.

He gives you a smile. “Well, I’m gonna go down and talk to the reception about us staying another night.”

“Go do that.”

And when the door shuts, you smile.

Being alone for once, you take the chance to pull out your phone to text your mother a long-winded explanation of last night and how Jungkook and you are merely friends. You think that will do for now, assure her you didn’t keep another boyfriend secret from her. Still, you’re certain you’ll get an earful once you’re back.

“And now, if I may draw your attention to your right here—” You turn your head, a smile growing on your lips as you watch Jungkook struggle to find the rest of his sentence. “—you’ll see this… gorgeous little famous brick building.”

You raise your hand. He picks you. “What is it famous for?”

“Ah, yes, great question, young lady,” he coughs, and you can quite literally see the wheels turn in his head. “It’s famous… for its ghosts.”

And even though he doesn’t word it like a question, it very much sounds like one.

“Ghosts?” you repeat, raising a brow.

“Yes, ghosts,” Jungkook repeats, doubling down. “Happy ghosts though. Not spooky ghosts. I know how easily you scare.”

You roll your eyes, regretting revealing this information to him. “Please continue your tour.”

“Right, yes, follow me.”

Once your reservations were settled, you realised neither of you know what to do with all of that extra time. A city tour was thrown around, but it turns out booking a city tour on such notice is more than difficult. But Jungkook was quick to tell you anyone could give a city tour. Hell, he could do it!

So here you are, walking through the streets with Jungkook as he scrambles to make things up as you go, pointing at buildings you walk past and telling you about their supposed history.

“And this,” he stops and you look up, “is probably the most famous sight-”

“A McDonald’s?” you deadpan, scrunching your nose.

“A McDonald’s,” he says with a nod, and you raise your hand again. “Yes, please?”

“So where can I get my money back because clearly, this tour is a scam-”

“Y/N!”

“You’re telling me that McDonald's is the best thing this town has to offer? This is supposed to be the best city tour ever? A sham, I tell you!” 

“I’m trying here.” A dramatic pout grows on Jungkook’s lips, and you can’t help but laugh. You pinch his cheek. 

He scrunches his face and pushes your hand aside. “Y/N!”

“Well, if you’re gonna pout like a child, you’re gonna be treated like one,” you tell him, smiling.

“If you’re so dissatisfied with the tour, do it better-”

“I never proclaimed myself to be the best tour guide around though,” you shoot back, and he scrunches his nose.

“Being a tour guide is hard, alright-”

“You just suck.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a line and stares at you. You give him a smile, enjoying this far too much.

“You’re mean, Y/N, you know that?” he hisses, and you laugh. “I’m not doing the tour anymore.”

“Thank god,” you exhale, placing your hand on your chest, feigning relief. Jungkook gapes at you. You laugh again. “Come on, let’s just go.”

“Where to?” he asks you, and you hook your arm with his, smiling.

“Anywhere,” you say.

Jungkook blinks at you before finally, cracking a smile too.

“Anywhere it is.”

You walk side by side, exploring the streets and corners and shops this city has to offer, dipping in and out of cafés and bookstores on your way. And at some point, you’re holding his hand. You don’t notice it until you have to let go at some point and reach for Jungkook’s hand again. You can’t say whose hands wandered first, but you can say it feels oddly natural. It feels oddly right.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jungkook asks you with a smile when the credits start rolling, the outro music of Spirited Away filling the air around you. He turns his head to you.

“Shut up,” you mumble, downing the last bit of wine you have left in your paper cup (this hotel is the opposite of fancy). “But no, it wasn’t.”

He grins at you over his shoulder as he puts away his laptop. “See, I told you.”

“The film still traumatised my young self, alright? The ghost-”

“No Face,” he supplies.

“Right, yeah, anyway, that guy’s fucking scary when you first watch the film. The way he follows Chihiro and won’t leave her alone?” You shudder and shake your head.

Jungkook’s still grinning when he fills up his paper cup with wine, gesturing for you to hand him yours. 

“Cheers.” 

Jungkook clinks his paper cup with yours, and your shoulder shakes with laughter as you drink, eyes locked with his. You’re first to break, your hand quickly coming up to your mouth to stop any of the wine from spilling.

“You’re so stupid,” you tell him when you’ve managed not to make a mess of the sheets, coughing a bit. Jungkook laughs. 

You place your half-empty paper cup on the nightstand and lie down, tired from the day and alcohol. You’re tipsy, for sure. Jungkook follows you, throwing the blanket over you. You’re quick to snuggle into it. Your faces are close, inches apart. One of you should back away, allow for more space, but neither of you even think of it. You just lie in the quiet together.

The warm yellow glow from the lamp on the nightstand spills beautifully down Jungkook’s face, softening his features to butter. It accentuates the gentle slope of his nose, contrasts the moles imprinted on his skin, and brings out his starry doe eyes, eyes filled with so much gentleness and goodness you think your heart is going to burst if you looked into them too long.

Gazing at him, you can’t help but smile at the thought that all of this wouldn’t have happened if Sooyoung hadn’t convinced you. You would have never gotten to know Jungkook the way you do now, seen all of his sides—the awkward and shy one, the brave and protective one, the caring and kind one—, and realised he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.

You thank Sooyoung.

“Hey, Y/N?”

He speaks quietly, in a whisper. You match his volume.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook doesn’t avert his eyes when he speaks, “Are we friends?”

You blink a handful of times, taking a moment to think about his question. A smile curls on your lips when you come up with the answer, “Almost.”

He raises a brow. “Almost?”

“Yes, almost.”

Jungkook stares at you before chuckling, shaking his head. “I’ve never gone on a roadtrip with any of my friends, or even shared the same bed with them. Not even Joon, and he’s my best friend. And now you tell me we’re just almost friends?”

Your smile widens into a grin. His eyes are digging into your face. You don’t meet his gaze. “Looks like you’re not that close with your friends then.”

He lets your words settle into the air, only expressing his disapproval with a click of his tongue and a scrunch of his nose.

“But it’s weird, isn’t it?” you begin quietly, still not looking at Jungkook. “It’s weird to think about how quickly we’ve grown close. This trip almost didn’t happen, you know?”

He looks at you.

“When Soo suggested you’d come, I wasn’t… thrilled.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” you chuckle. “But can you blame me for being hesitant to be stuck in a car with a stranger? I didn’t want it to be awkward.” You turn your head to the side, eyes finding his. “And I wasn’t wrong. Remember when-”

“Yes, I remember,” Jungkook quickly interrupts. “I remember how awkward it was-”

“You mean how awkward you were,” you correct and earn yourself an eye roll from him. “What? Are you denying it?”

“I’m not,” he mutters, scrunching his nose. “But it’s not like you tried to make it less awkward.”

“Well, sorry, I didn’t say anything when you put the snacks in the back, or when you silently watched-” 

“I get it, Y/N,” Jungkook interjects, a dramatic pout forming on his lips. It takes you everything not to pinch his cheek. 

“You know, I was so sure I was going to regret it, you know?”

“Agreeing to let me come?”

“Yeah, I mean you and I were strangers before this. Even with Soo and Joon around, I wasn’t sure it wasn’t gonna be… weird.”

“But you don’t regret it, do you?”

You think about the last couple of days, think about all of the experiences you’ve made, how you’ve won a new friend, and you can’t contain the smile that slips onto your lips, stretching from one cheek to the other. The answer is obvious.

“No, I don’t.”

And even though you aren’t looking at each other, gazes tracing the ceiling together, you know there is a smile on the other’s lips. Silence hits you, comfortable silence. 

“Hey, Y/N?” 

You hum in response, growing too tired to speak, eyes starting to fall shut. You think Jungkook notices, think that’s why he’s pausing, to contemplate whether or not to continue. But you’re wrong. He doesn’t pause because he picked up on your exhaustion, his mind racing far too fast for him to. He pauses because he doesn’t know if he should bring it up in the first place, let the words slip that have been on his tongue forever now. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “But we aren’t strangers, are we?”

He speaks quietly, and you don’t think you would have heard him if you weren’t lying in bed together, side by side. You want to turn your head, but for some reason, your neck feels oddly stiff. Your brows knit together.

“What… do you mean?”

And then there’s another round of silence. 

It allows your mind to ponder over his words, dissect them into their own pieces, pull them apart, syllable for syllable, figure out the meaning of them separately and then together, and before you can come to any kind of conclusion, Jungkook speaks again,

“Remember when you asked me about my biggest regret and I wouldn’t tell you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Do you still wanna know?”

You should probably ask him where this was going, tell him he’s jumping from one thing to another, but-

“Yeah.”

Jungkook shifts. There’s a feeling growing in your gut. It’s not bad, at least you don’t think. It’s just there, alerting you.

“There was this girl,” he starts, and you listen closely. “I met her during a party two summers ago. She bumped into me. Almost spilled her drink all over me. We talked the entire night, even played a round of beer pong even though neither of us like beer.”

Your heart begins thumping in your chest, heavy and hard. The realisation hits you so fast you can’t even look away. It whips you right across the cheek. 

Jungkook remembers.

“Somehow, we ended up at my place, and,” something like a smile finds his lips, “well, one thing led to another. The next morning though,” you know what he’ll say, “I woke up alone.”

You close your eyes and swallow.

“So my biggest regret is probably never asking for her number,” he whispers, his words breathed into the air, floating around in the room, lifted by the warm light, presented right in front of your eyes. You don’t want to look at them, heat crawling up your neck at their sight. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, you tell yourself. It’s the exhaustion and alcohol. That must be it.

“Or you know, not telling her I’d love to get to know her more and she can stay for breakfast if she wants,” he says. “I would have loved it to wake up next to her.”

You are his biggest regret?

It makes no sense. It seems absurd to you. He must be joking, you tell yourself. There’s no way any of this is real, that he didn’t get upset at your disappearance but simply disappointed and sad, that the night you shared together left as much of an impression on him as it did on you. 

“I can’t believe you remember,” you say, voice thin and weak. 

“Of course, I did.”

He turns to you then, and instantly, your heart stops in your chest. You wait, count the seconds, anticipating his words. You don’t know what you’re expecting him to say, but it’s not this,

“I thought you were really cute.”

His confession knocks the air right out of your lungs, all of it escaping you in one go. If you had it in you, you’d turn to him and meet his eyes. But your gaze remains stuck on the ceiling.

He’s drunk, you repeat to yourself. The words are laced with alcohol, for sure. His mind is clouded with drunken foolishness. It must be.

“Jungkook-”

The rest of your sentence never leaves your lips, a terrible knot in your throat. Words are clumsy on your tongue, your mind jumbled with thoughts you can’t even begin to dissect. It’s terrible, the minute of silence feeling so full and empty at the same time. You learn just how loud being silent can be, how deafening, how heavy.

“I’m serious.” 

But still, you can’t respond, your mouth opening and closing in a desperate manner to get something to spill out. Nothing comes out though. You can’t quite find the words, but you think he knows. You think he knows you want to apologise for leaving the morning so abruptly, think he knows you haven’t forgotten either, think he knows you would have stayed if he had just asked you to.

The click of the lamp snaps you out of your thoughts, suddenly plunged into darkness. Jungkook lies back down, pulling the covers over you. It marks the end of your conversation. 

Your mouth presses into a line and your eyes flutter shut because you know very well you aren’t going to find your voice until tomorrow morning. You curse yourself and your inability to speak. It’s stupid. You know very well how much courage it must have taken him to tell you all of this, and here you are, lying in silence and-

Your train of thought is stopped when Jungkook grabs your hands underneath the covers and interlaces his fingers with yours. It’s then that you look at him, head twisting to the side, eyes meeting his. And you know, this isn’t the alcohol speaking. It’s him speaking, every word is his.

Jungkook glows, you discover, because, in the darkness, you can see him crystal clear, bright as the stars and the moon combined, outshining everything and anything.

“I still do.” His eyes stare into yours. “I still think you’re really cute.”

And when Jungkook carefully puts his arm around your waist, you know it’s fine you can’t respond right now. You inch closer to him, your bodies practically melting into one. His touch is warm and comforting. It feels right.

You fall asleep.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” you say, scrunching your nose and looking at the McDonalds bag in your lap. “Our last dinner on the roadtrip.”

“For now,” Jungkook adds, putting on your shared roadtrip playlist. He takes the brown bag from you and unpacks it. “Don’t forget, we still have to drive back in a week.”

You take the cheeseburger he hands you. “What happened to my McDonald’s ban?”

Jungkook unwraps his burger and bites into it. “Well, we’re in the middle of nowhere and unless you prefer stale chips, go ahead.”

You’re pouting as you unwrap your cheeseburger. “Whatever.”

He smiles.

You haven’t talked about last night. When you woke up, you thought you would, but you didn’t. You honestly can’t say how, but it’s not awkward. Still, there’s an elephant in the room, or, well, in the car, sitting in the back with you and patiently waiting for one of you to address it. 

“Can’t believe we never thought of eating in the back,” Jungkook mumbles, dipping a fry into the sweet and sour sauce. You’ve arranged a spread on the middle seat, the bag serving as a plate.

“I know, right? It’s so crammed in the front.”

“Well, now we know better,” Jungkook says, and you hum, grabbing a chicken nugget and throwing it into your mouth, wiping your greasy fingers and mouth on the napkin you have in your lap.

“Can’t believe we’re almost there,” you mumble, taking a deep breath, the weight of the journey dawning on you. “We really drove for five days straight, huh?”

“Four,” he corrects. “But yeah, crazy to think about. Didn’t feel all that long though.”

“I thought it would be worse and more exhausting.”

Jungkook locks eyes with you, a smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, it was really fun.”

You smile too. “Yeah, really fun.”

And then you go back to eating, munching on your respective burgers, grabbing a fry or chicken nugget in between bites. By the end your bellies are so full, neither of you want to move, in need of a break. All you manage to do is gather your garbage in the McDonald’s bag before collapsing again.

“What was your favourite part about the trip so far?”

Jungkook turns to you at the question, eyes meeting yours. He frowns. “Probably when we had Chinese food in the park.”

You nod, approving of his choice. “Yeah, that was really great and fun.”

“What about you?”

A smile grows on your lips because you already know your answer. “Your shitty city tour.”

Jungkook levels you with a look, shaking his head. “It wasn’t that shitty.”

You laugh. “It was.”

“Y/N-!”

“Just accept it. It was really bad.” He pouts. You grin. “But it was really fun too.”

“You mean fun for you,” he hisses. “You laughed at me.”

And at his words, you have to laugh again. As much as he tries to act upset, Jungkook has to mirror you, the corners of his lips involuntarily pulling up.

“Sorry.”

“Please, you’re not sorry at all.”

“I’m not,” you admit and grin at him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You look at him when he suddenly sits up.

“What?”

“Let’s take a picture!”

You blink at his enthusiasm. “What?”

“We never took any pictures.” He pulls out his phone. “Let’s take some now.”

He pats the seat next to him and you’re quick to move in, knees knocking against his. You adjust your hair to your liking, Jungkook patiently waiting for you to finish, his phone already up in the air and ready to go.

“Alright?”

You nod, giving a small smile and holding up a peace sign as Jungkook clicks on the shutter. He mimics you, his smile toothier than yours though. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you say and he stops, turning his gaze to you. “The way we’re sitting-” You click to view the pictures. “Look, it’s kinda awkward.”

Jungkook hums, agreeing with you. “How about this?”

You stiffen when he puts an arm around you and pulls you even closer to him. But you relax soon after, a smile forming on your lips.

“This good?” he asks you, loosening his hold on you, clearly ready to back off again, but you’re quick to nod. In fact, you inch a bit closer to him, your face right next to his as you prepare for the new set of pictures.

Your faces quickly morph from toothy smiles to tongues sticking out and your features contorting in odd ways. The pictures go from casual to silly in a matter of seconds. In the last couple ones, you’re squishing each other’s cheeks, and by the end, you’re laughing.

“Oh, this one’s cute,” Jungkook says and shows you his phone. You lean over to look. It’s one of the first ones when you were still trying. You’re smiling into the camera, your hand thrown up in a peace sign. Jungkook has his arm around you, a smile on his own lips, but instead of staring into the camera like you, his eyes are on you.

You pause, the look on his face surprising you. It’s so soft and gentle. It’s like he’s looking at something very dear to him, something precious, something he loves. But he’s simply staring at you.

“Yeah… it’s cute,” you mumble, voice much quieter now. And when you lift your eyes and meet his gaze, your voice disappears into thin air. Because Jungkook’s right there, in front of you, his face inches away from yours.

This is it. You know. If you were in a romcom, you’d kiss. You’d share your epic first kiss, sitting in the back of your shared car after four days of driving across the country, four days of getting to know each other, four days of sharing the same bed. This is the moment. The moment that will define this summer, the moment in which you’ll tell Jungkook all of the things you wanted to say yesterday but didn’t have the courage to. The moment that will bring you and him together.

It’s there, right in front of you, dangling and waiting to be grasped and held tight, seized.

Your eyes darken as they lower to his lips, heart thumping loud and heavy in your ribcage, everything inside you screaming at you to do it, to finally find the bravery you couldn’t muster up yesterday and two years ago when you first ran from him. Your hand grips onto his knee for support, and Jungkook’s here to provide it, his hand gripping yours, encouraging you; the other one finding anchor around your waist, his phone somewhere on the floor, forgotten about.

You feel his breath on your lips. It’s about to happen. You’re mere split seconds away from it when the sound of your phone ringing cuts through the air.

It’s gone.

The moment dissipates into thin air right in front of your eyes, leaving behind a cloud of awkwardness.

You break apart, the distance between you feels endless. Your heart sinks in your chest, the feeling of Jungkook’s touch imprinted on your skin, still hot and burning, questions hanging in the air.

You’re scrambling to the front when you pick up the call, pressing your phone to your ear to the point your knuckles turn white. And even though there’s a part of you that’s glad that you were interrupted because you don’t know what would have happened after the kiss, there’s another part of you that’s cursing yourself for switching your phone from silent to loud.

“Yes, hi,” you sputter, clearing your throat and stumbling into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sooyoung greets you, and you don’t look in Jungkook’s direction when he gets into the driver’s seat, his phone back in his pocket. He lowers the music. “Where are you guys?”

You frown. “Uh, we-we are having dinner.”

There’s a pause, and you hate the silence because it makes you so acutely aware of the silence between Jungkook and you.

“Are you alright? You sound weird.”

“Weird?” you say with an exaggerated chuckle. “What? No, of course, I’m alright.”

Sooyoung hums on the other side, sounding more than less convinced. “Well, if you say so.”

“I’m alright. It’s alright,” you repeat, and you don’t know if that’s for her, you, or Jungkook. “Anyway, why, uh, are you calling me?”

“Oh, right-” Sooyoung cuts herself short and you think you can hear someone talk to her. You frown, the voice sounding a lot like Taehyung, but just before you can ask, she returns. “Uh, can you tell me when you’ll be at the hotel?”

“Why do you wanna know when we’re at the hotel?” you ask, your frown deepening. You glance over to Jungkook. He has the same look on his face.

“Just because.”

Now it’s Sooyoung who sounds weird.

It takes you a moment to get it, your frown slowly disappearing at the realisation. 

“Soo, are you at the hotel?”

Jungkook snaps his head to you, and you turn on speaker phone. There are hisses and curses from the other side until-

“Surprise!”

You wince, the onslaught of voices blowing out your speakers. Jungkook and you look at each other.

“Yeah, hi, we’re at the hotel,” Taehyung says, confirming your previous assumption. The smile’s evident on his lips. “So hurry the fuck up, you two lovebirds, and get your asses here.”

“Lovebirds?” Jungkook sputters, exasperated and embarrassed at the same time. “We are no- what are you talking about, Tae?”

You can practically see Taehyung roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just-”

He’s cut off by Seokjin. “Hey guys, how are you?”

“Uh, good,” you answer for the two of you, confused and struggling to wrap your brain around this. You’re not catching up really. “H-how are you guys all at the hotel? How did you get there? And who’s at-”

“Everybody. Everyone’s here, grandmas. How are we at the hotel before you when you had like a two-day head start?”

The insults continue, your friends berating you for taking so long. Namjoon puts an end to it, taking the phone and telling you to just get here as fast as possible, promising to explain everything once you’re at the hotel. 

When you hang up, you feel tired. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s.

“Ready?”

Somehow, there’s no awkwardness anymore. You’re not sure how that’s possible, if it’s the fact that your friends are all waiting for you at the hotel that distracts your minds enough, or the fact that it can’t ever be awkward between you anymore because there’s trust and comfort. Either way, you’re glad.

“Sure, yeah.”

You sound less than ready, and Jungkook smiles before slotting the keys into the ignition.

“We’ll be fine.”

You hope he’s right.

It turns out that once Sooyoung and Namjoon got back in town, Hoseok was quick to propose to drive after you guys. After all, he’s just finished all of his exams and is down for a little adventure. Jimin joined in next as the second driver. And with Jimin in on it, Sana and Yeji jumped on board too. Soon enough your gigantic friend group was packing up their things for a last-minute summer roadtrip, Nine people crammed in three cars. With so many people, the costs were down to nothing, hotels and food costing a penny, and the great number of drivers allowed them to go for hours on end without breaks.

And by the end, you feel dumb for not suspecting anything earlier. You should have because Sooyoung’s daily calls stopped all of a sudden. But you were too preoccupied to notice.

“I’m really so sorry,” Sooyoung tells you once you’re in your room, and you sit down on one of the two beds.

“It’s fine, Soo,” you say, patting her hand. “It was actually fun with Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” She’s studying your face for any hints of deception. “You’re not just saying that? You can be honest now. We’re not on the phone anymore.”

“Well,” you sigh, “as much as I hate to admit it, but you were right. He really is nice. So no, I’m not just saying that.”

And at that, Sooyoung lights up. “Told you so!”

You give her hand one more squeeze before lying down, sinking into the mattress. She follows you.

“Oh, did he recognise you, by the way? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

You keep your gaze trained on the ceiling as you contemplate what to tell her. You don’t think you want to get into it all, not now at least when so much is still not resolved, when you don’t know yourself what’s going on between Jungkook and you.

“No.”

“Oh.” Sooyoung sounds disappointed, you think. “Well, glad I was right again.”

You hum.

Your conversation quickly moves on to her romantic getaway with Namjoon because she hasn’t gotten much of a chance to tell you about it, the fact she was stuck in another town taking precedence.

“Anyway, I think I’m gonna wash up,” Sooyoung tells you and slaps your knee before getting up. It’s only then that you see her suitcase in the corner of the room. You straighten up.

“Wait, are we sharing a room?”

She looks at you from her crouched position, pyjamas in her hands. Her brows knit together. “Who else do you think you’d be sharing a room with?” Her lips quirk up into a smirk when you don’t respond. “Kook?”

You laugh, but it sounds off. “What? No! I-I thought you were sharing a room with Joon.”

She shakes her head and gets up, her toiletry bag and pyjamas in her hands. “No, you’re stuck with me, Y/N. Kook’s with Joon.”

You nod and barely register Sooyoung walking into the ensuite bathroom, one thought occupying your mind.

You won’t be alone with Jungkook anymore.

[jeon jungkook - 00:32] : hey are you still up?

[you - 00:32] : yeah whats up?

You watch as the three grey dots appear and disappear for a few seconds, and you’re about to ask him to spit it out when-

[jeon jungkook - 00:32] : you wanna meet up in the car?

You’ve typed out the answer and hit send faster than you can blink.

[you - 00:32] : be right there

You don’t even check if Sooyoung’s actually sleeping or not when you climb out of bed and leave, your phone and the keycard to the room are the only things with you. And even though it’s summer, it is a lot chillier at night. You shiver once you’re outside, but you push through, marching across the empty parking lot.

When you get in, Jungkook’s already sitting in the passenger seat.

“Nice pyjamas,” he tells you with a smile, and you roll your eyes. He’s still in his clothes from before.

“Thanks,” you say, shutting the door, shivering when the AC hits you.

“Are you cold, Y/N?” Jungkook asks you, disbelief on his face, and you grumble.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a wuss that gets scared by everything and is also cold sensitive.”

“You’re not cold-sensitive, Y/N. You’re slight temperature changes-”

“Is that why you texted me?” you interrupt.

Jungkook sits back and shakes his head. “Obviously not.” 

He pauses and shuts off the AC before taking off the flannel he’s wearing. “Here.” He holds it out to you, and you can’t meet his eyes when you accept it. It’s a bit big on you. It brings instant warmth. You smell him on it.

“How is it with Soo?”

“Fine,” you say. “How’s it with-”

“Fine too.”

Neither of you say anything for a moment. “Is it just me-”

“-but it’s weird to share a room with other people, right?” you finish his sentence, and he’s quick to agree with you. 

“Yeah, it does feel… weird.”

There’s another pause.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You frown. “Do what?”

But instead of elaborating, he just gets out, gesturing for you to follow him. Left with no other choice, you do, wrapping his flannel tighter around your body when a breeze hits you.

“What do you-”

You’re cut off by the sound of ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ by Stevie Wonder playing through Jungkook’s phone. He gives you a smile when you look at him, walking over to you and grabbing your phone and the keycard out of your hand to put it on the ground, next to his own phone.

“What are we-”

Once again, you don’t finish your question, Jungkook taking your hands into his.

“We’re dancing,” he tells you with a grin, and before you can even protest, he spins you around.

“Jungkook,” you say when you’re facing him again, cheeks ablaze. “I can’t dance.”

“Just go with it,” he says, but when he sees the knit between your brows, he adds, “Trust me.”

And with that, you can’t help but let him lead you, his hands guiding your every move as you dance in the empty parking lot, spinning like you’ve got a clue of what you’re doing.

“See, you can dance,” Jungkook whispers when you’re back in his arms. “You’re great at this.”

You shake your head at his compliment, disagreeing, but it’s a nice thing to hear. 

And so you continue, clumsily and slowly dancing around, feet shaky and hesitant as you move. Stars are dotting the night sky, shining down on you, the moon high up there, smiling, the lonely street lamp you’re under illuminating you like a spotlight, the flannel billowing out around you with every spin you do. At this moment, as you hold Jungkook’s hands, you’re convinced it’s just you and him in this world. 

And right at this moment, you can feel it—the summer magic in the air, the endlessness of tonight, the potential and possibilities all around you, the looming question of where is this going?. It’s all right here, surrounding you, and for some reason, it’s not scary.

It’s not scary when the air is warm and fuzzy and the moon and stars are above you, lighting up the sky, and summer is puncturing every minute that passes by. It’s not scary when you’re holding Jungkook’s hands and gazing into his eyes. 

By the end of the song, you’re out of breath, panting. But you’re smiling too. And when it plays again, neither of you let go of one another. Instead, you start to sway. You rest your head on Jungkook’s chest, eyes closing as you listen, his heart beating under your ear. His arms sneak around your middle. He holds you close.

You never thought you could feel at peace and terrified at the same time, never thought you could feel like this when the realisation sinks in with you.

You’re falling- no, tripping for Jungkook, stumbling over your own two feet and plunging head first into darkness, the unknown.

The fall is inevitable, you realise. It’s been happening for the past two years; starting on the first night you spend together and continuing with every quick glance you caught of him when you walked across campus, fuelled by the stories Sooyoung would relay to you every week, the jokes she’d tell you he made that day, and now propelled faster by this trip, by the hours locked in the car together, the nights slept in the same bed, sharing the same blanket, hearts beating side by side, closer than ever.

There’s no stopping this, and you don’t know if you would want to even if you could.

You’re not sure what it is, if it’s the summer magic floating in the air, but falling in love, giving your heart to someone, pulling it out of your chest, loosening it from its roots in between your ribs, gift-wrapping it and tying a bow around it, to hand it over to Jungkook for safekeeping, for it to be his and his only, seems less daunting than ever. In fact, it seems right, the only possible thing you could be doing now, a natural progression.

And even though you haven’t landed yet, haven’t gotten to the end of your fall, you know it will be fine. You know it will be soft and gentle. You know there will be someone to catch you. Putting your heart into Jungkook’s hands, as terrifying as it is, is the natural thing to do. You shouldn’t be so willing to give a piece away from you, to hand it over so easily, should want to run away in panic, but for some reason, you’ve never wanted to do anything more.

“We’ve done it all,” Jungkook whispers into your ear during the harmonica solo, and you stop swaying.

“What do you mean?” you ask, and you can hear him smile.

“You said this isn’t a romcom in which we dance under the stars, go on coffee shop dates, and sneak out to meet up.” You peel your eyes open and look at him. He’s grinning at you. “We did it all.”

“Jungkook-”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers and gazes deeply into your eyes, his features soft and glowing under the streetlight. He’s never been more beautiful. You can feel your heart in your ears, every beat. You think you know the secret.

You nod.

“I love you.”

And even though you already knew it, your lips pull up into the biggest grin, fireworks exploding in your stomach, heart swelling in your chest to the point of eruption.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you ask him, voice shaky with excitement, and lean impossibly closer, hands gripping his shirt because you need something to hold onto.

“Please,” Jungkook practically pleads, and you don’t hesitate a second to say it, letting the three words escape you that have been sitting inside you for ages now.

“I love you too.”

And then, you press your lips to Jungkook’s, going up on your toes to reach him, eyes fluttering shut, finally doing what you should have done a long time ago. He holds your middle, his nose bumping yours as he kisses you back, firmly. Even though this isn’t your first kiss, it does feel like it—sparks ricocheting through your entire body, time freezing to a stop, nothing mattering more than him right now. Jungkook is every star and every moon in this world. He is the summer and the autumn and the winter and the spring. He is everything. 

The kiss ends far too soon. You’re already yearning for his lips again, for him.

“You think your mother is gonna kill me if she finds out I kissed her daughter?” 

You smack his shoulder, or, well, you try because you’re breathless and can’t muster up much. It’s a hit, and barely qualifies as that. It’s an attempt. It’s enough to make him smile though.

“Jungkook,” you say, “I swear to God, if you mention my mother again after kissing me, you’re never going to kiss me-”

He cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours one more time, cradling your cheeks. You allow it, leaning into it and kissing him back, grip tightening around his shirt. It feels too right to stop. You already know, you won’t ever get enough of the kisses, won’t ever stop kissing Jungkook, for even a second.

And when you part this time, you rest your forehead to his, needing the support, and there’s no doubt in your mind, Jungkook will always be there to provide it. He’ll always be there to be your rock, your person to lean onto, you can count on.

“Oh,” he says, digging through his pocket, and you watch as he pulls out a set of keys. They shine under the streetlamp, bright and dazzling. He takes your hand and wraps your fingers around them, the jagged edges lightly digging into your skin.

“You forgot these at my place.”

Your eyes grow big, mouth dropping wide open.

“Jungkook-” you begin but don’t finish, sputtering. You shake your head, a smile on your lips. “You know these would have been useful two years ago, right? I had to walk to Sooyoung to get the spare key from her.”

He grins at you and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Well, better late than never, right?”

You meet his gaze and smile. He doesn’t say it, but you know. “Right, better late than never.”

Jungkook and you are the last ones to arrive for breakfast, strolling up to the table together, enough space between you not to raise any suspicion, not wanting to reveal the news to your friends just yet. It’s best not to drop this first thing in the morning, you decided together. Luckily for you, there are exactly two empty seats next to each other. 

You’ve just come back from the buffet (waffles for you and pancakes for Jungkook) when Sooyoung looks at you.

“Did you go out last night?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I think I heard you sneaking out in the middle of the night,” she says, taking a sip from her coffee.

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to say. It’s all you can muster up.

“Well,” you refrain from looking at Jungkook, “no, I, uh, didn’t.”

“Huh.” She blinks. “I could swear I heard the door opening at night-”

“Wait, Yoongs, didn’t you say you saw Y/N and Kook last night in the parking lot?” Hoseok brings up, and you stiffen in your seat, fingers curling around the armrests. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath, his knee jerking uncontrollably. Everyone around the table quiets and looks at you two. Probably not the best idea to sit next to each other.

“Y/N?” Sooyoung says, her eyes as big as saucers. Namjoon chokes on his drink next to her.

Sana gasps, clamming her hand in front of her mouth. “Shut up, are you guys-”

“No, what? Don’t be ridiculous!” Jimin denies, shaking his head. “There’s no way-” He pauses when he sees the look on Jungkook’s and your face. “Wait…”

“Did you really see-?” Taehyung turns to Yoongi, sitting on the edge of his seat, and the older takes a sip from his orange juice, keeping everyone waiting, the suspense rising with every moment of silence.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh my god,” Yeji mumbles under her breath before turning to Jungkook and you, her mouth slowly splitting into a gigantic grin. “Are you guys-?”

You share a look. “Uh, I, well-”

“Didn’t you kiss too?” Hoseok blurts out, speaking without thinking. “That’s what you said, right, Yoongs?”

“You kissed?” Taehyung sputters before beginning to slow clap, and Namjoon’s quick to tell him to stop it.

“Kissed and slow danced,” Yoongi confirms, clearly believing Jungkook and you have been a thing for a while now, failing to realise that he’s revealing your relationship to everyone on your very first day as a couple. “Or was that not you?”

Jungkook and you share another look. Even though this isn’t the way you imagined telling your friends, you don’t mind. Because what difference does it make?

“No, that was us,” you say.

“You didn’t see wrong,” Jungkook confirms with a nod.

And at your confession, your friends gasp before erupting into hollers and cheers. None of them care that guests are shooting them dirty looks. They’re far too happy for Jungkook and you to care. You love them so much, as embarrassing as this is. The support is heartwarming.

“Congrats to you guys!” Namjoon grins, Sooyoung next to him is far too shocked to say anything.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m so happy for you two!” Yeji coos.

“A toast from the newly wed couple please!” Seokjin gestures at you to stand up, but neither of you make a single move.

“We’re not married!” you say, and Jungkook thanks Sana when she slaps Seokjin’s shoulder.

And since the two of you aren’t really toast-making people, Jungkook saves you by lifting his glass of water into the air like it’s an expensive flute of champagne. 

“Cheers!”

You’re first to raise your glass too, clinking it with his. Your friends are quick to follow suit. 

Jungkook looks over to you.

To us.

You grin.

Sooyoung gives you a tight hug, whispering into your ear just how happy she is for you and that she’ll pack and switch rooms. You thank her; for everything, you say, truly everything. She shakes her head.

And when Jungkook and you look at each other again, you know you’ll always get half of his breakfast and he’ll always get half of your breakfast, and he’ll always hold your hand at every rest stop and gas station and every time you need it, and you’ll always buy him a neck pillow when his neck acts up again and hold a water bottle to his lips when he’s thirsty and driving. You know you’ll never have to fight over who sleeps on the couch anymore, but you’ll always have to fight over who gets to pay.

You smile, and it widens when Jungkook transfers half of his pancakes onto your plate. You do the same.

“Good morning,” Jungkook smiles when he sees you stir and peel your eyes open, putting his phone aside to lie back down with you, pulling the covers over the two of you. Your eyelids are still heavy with sleep. Keeping them open is hard.

“Morning.”

Your mood doesn’t drop until you think of today’s agenda and remember, you’re driving back. You groan. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you say, a pout growing on your lips, and Jungkook smiles, pulling you closer to him.

“Neither do I,” he tells you. “But we have to.”

You sigh. “I can’t believe it. How has it been a week?”

“Well, time flies when you’re having fun.”

You bury your face into his neck and pull the covers tighter around you, your body pressed up against his.

“And when it’s summer.”

Jungkook grins. “Yeah, and when it’s summer.”

“And when I’m with you,” you mumble and look at him with a smile. Jungkook cups your cheek and presses his lips to yours. And even though the kiss lasts mere seconds, you feel the same sparks ricochet through your body like when you first kissed him. He’s still every star and moon in this world, still summer, autumn, winter, and spring. He’s still everything. And you know, that will never change.

“And when I’m with you too.”

→ links don’t work, but i’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback! thanks for reading !!

[carpisuns]

Pls tell me more of the luxy agenda

ok u literally asked for this!! lol

so this moment is where it all starts. it’s so gay. look at that.

but if u wanna know my in-depth reasons for liking this ship, read on under the cut lol

for me the core of luxy is twofold:

1. Some characters need a conflicting personality to make a really interesting ship dynamic.

2. Some characters are garbage and need someone really insightful and patient to help them get better.

Personally I feel like Luka’s potential as a character is best served when he is met with opposition. That brings out a side of him we don’t get to see often and provides a challenge he can grow into as a character. Like in Silencer! He’s a very chill dude but when you piss him off, he hisses lol. And I think that is interesting and I want to see more of what Luka is like when he is challenged. Because of this, ships like Lukanette and Lukadrien aren’t really my cup of tea personally (no salt if that is your thing tho!), but ships like Lukloe and Lukagami and Luxy intrigue me because of the personality clash. Luka’s generally very understanding, compassionate, and intuitive, so he can have a softening effect in a ship that could really benefit someone who is a little more emotionally stiff/closed off than he is. And on the other hand, someone with a strong opposing personality could have a fortifying/stretching effect on him, inspiring him to be a little more direct and active and state his needs and wants clearly.

So Luka and XY are already perfect counterparts for this kind of opposites-attract ship. And they also have some key similarities that make them potentially able to relate to each other while also still driving that central conflict. For example, they’re both musicians, but they go about it in opposite ways—creating original, organic-sounding stuff vs digital remixing (and also straight-up ripping off lol). They also both have crappy dads, but Luka's was AWOL his whole life whereas XY's basically controls his life.

Ofc for Luxy to work as a ship, XY has to have redemptive potential, which is very easy for me to invent for him based on this one moment lol:

XY is clearly a terrible person in canon lol but this 1.3-second clip provides just enough to fill in the rest with headcanons that could make Luxy sail 😌 Here are my personal favs:

XY actually is a surprisingly talented musician/DJ in his own right, but his dad discourages him from making his own stuff because he wants to stick with the formula he knows will sell. XY is basically just a face to make money off of, and deep down he is dissatisfied with his father's creative control. He wants to stop stealing and make original music instead, but because of his dad's snide comments, he's afraid he's actually no good anyway.

XY is in the closet but struggles with internalized homophobia because of his homophobic dad. Whenever he tries to talk with his dad about it, Bob shuts him down, makes disparaging remarks, and implies that XY's career and life will be destroyed if he comes out.

XY's fame grants him a wide but shallow social pool. He has lots of fans and a group/posse his dad keeps around him for influence, but he has no close friends and no one he can be honest with about his feelings. Underneath his gaudy bling and scientifically impossible hair, he is just a lonely, scared little boy 😔

So when you mix this all together, what do you get? A enemies-to-lovers slowburn that inspires character development on both sides (and a whole redemption for XY), with plenty of room both for crack/clownery and angst and hurt/comfort. And there is also some great symbolism involved, with Luka being the hero of second chances. Very tasty, in my humble opinion 🤠

If you made it this far and you're actually interested in seeing content for this ship, here's some of my fav stuff!

"Pretender" mini animatic by @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights

Macaroni mini animatic by @bugaboo-n-bananoir

Heartsong (Needs More Bass Drops) by @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights

Luka and XY's Excellent Adventure by @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights, ft amazing art by @bugaboo-n-bananoir!!

Aged-up domenstic Luxy by @bugaboo-n-bananoir

Viperxy by @bugaboo-n-bananoir

Luxy frenemies by @bugaboo-n-bananoir and @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights

Urinals by @lllluka

Luxy guitar by @kagamitsu

Luxy bike ride by @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights

Luxy week drawings by @landturtlealyce/@daily-miracuclass

I Can't Help Falling in Love With You by @janaikam

there is actually a surprising amount of great content for this ship haha, much more than i could fit here, so i would recommend checking out the #luxy tag for any of these blogs 😎 also @janaikam created @luxyweek earlier this year, so you can check that out too!

this was probably much more than you bargained for but you did ask for it and i was not going to turn this opportunity away :) lol

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 6

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Three things happen at once. 

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,114

Warnings: Swearing, backstory, angsty angst, fluffy fluff, mutual pining finally acknowledged, overuse of italics, don’t mess with Din’s Cupid or he’ll kill you

Author Note: Important please read this! Ok, so if you’ve been following along you’ll know I had no outline for this originally. And well, that’s come back to bite me. I had to make an edit to Part 2, a small one but still the very beginning will look marginally different if you’ve read it before today’s date Dec. 16, 2020. Basically, I took away the implication that You don’t know exactly how You became a Cupid. So, yeah. Hopefully moving forward I’ll be better handling all this *awkward shuffling*. As always, thank you for all the support and I appreciate every one of you so much ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 5 and Part 7

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Silence floods the ship in the wake of your admission, stifling and charged with enough tension you fear breathing too loud will set off a chain reaction with disastrous results. It makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle, every instinct inside of you screaming to teleport away, if only so you no longer have to see Din stubbornly trying and failing to hide his internal turmoil behind a mask of indifference. 

When he opens his mouth, you tense but the question slices through you all the same. “When?”

You hesitate, making a face. “Din, we really don’t have time for this. Let’s just move on—”

Without warning, the hand holding your elbow slides to your wrist and twists, turning your palm up for inspection. Din stares at the blank expanse of skin, then slowly his gaze lifts, and he releases you as if you’ve poisoned him.

“You’ve never lied to me before, angel. Did you honestly think now was the best time to start?” he asks, and something breaks inside of you when he looks at you as if you’ve become a total stranger to him.

But before any pain can begin to sink in, anger overcomes you as his assumption registers.

“I’m not lying, you asshole,” you say sharply, feeling a faint pulse of petty satisfaction when you notice the subtle way his stance shifts defensively, betraying his surprise at your boldness. Resting your hands on your hips, you fix him with your fiercest glare. “For all that you are a powerful ancient being of the universe, you are also the biggest, most ignorant fool I’ve ever met. You have absolutely no idea how Cupids become Cupids, do you?”

You don’t offer him even a second to respond, too wound up and fueled by the overwhelming desire to make him get it. To make him understand you’re not purposefully trying to hurt him. If it were up to you, you’d make sure he never felt any kind of pain. But that would require having a choice and that is the one thing the universe did not grant you as a Cupid.

“Every Cupid was once a mortal with a soulmate,” you explain, choosing each word with careful precision while watching his face to make sure his focus never wavers. “And every one of us was rejected by them. When we die, we’re transformed into Cupids, losing our soulmate markings in the process.” When you feel your bottom lip begin to wobble, you pause to take a steadying breath. “You asked me before, what is the true purpose of a Cupid? It’s to help others find the kind of love we never experienced for ourselves.”

Din stands there in front of you, still staring passively, and you’re scared for a moment your words have made no difference, but then his jaw clenches so tightly you hear his teeth grinding. 

“You were rejected?” he growls, vicious and guttural, the sound of a feral beast.

He pivots, fist colliding with the wall with enough force it dents the metal beneath his knuckles. You flinch at the noise, shocked at the abuse he’s inflicted upon his beloved ship. Every bone in his hand should have shattered upon impact, but because Death is immune to such damage he merely turns back to you, breathing raggedly and eyes blackened with rage.

“Tell me his name.”

You’ve already begun shaking your head before you say, “So you can go hunt him down? Hell no. Trust me, it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of pacifying him, this only infuriates him further. “How can you say that? That bastard broke your heart when he was supposed to cherish you, protect you, love you above all else.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask peevishly, letting your temper get the better of you. Sparing a moment to mentally count to ten, you quietly reveal, “I can say it doesn’t matter because I don’t even remember who he was. There is no point sending you to kill someone who’s face I can’t pick out of a crowd.”

The sudden way Din’s whole body slumps in response to the news, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, expression scrunched and dumbfounded, would have made you laugh if the circumstances were entirely different. Being what they are, you can only meet his stare evenly, silently assuring him you’re not joking in the slightest.

“I don’t understand,” Din says at last, looking like he wants to approach but is unsure you’ll welcome his nearness so he keeps his distance. “You never told me you had memory loss before. What happened to you?”

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. For as long as I’ve been a Cupid, all my memories from my mortal life have dark spots, like something poked holes in them.”

Din glances away as he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘Or someone’ but before you can comment, his tone rises to its usual volume as he says, “Is this why you collect all those old newspapers? To try to help you remember?”

You recall with embarrassment him having previously commented on the pile in your living room. That moment feels like years ago, the two of you sitting in your apartment and Din asking...if Cupids were on the list of potential soulmates. Was that his way of asking if you were on the list? Surely not. He’s much cleverer than that.

...Isn’t he?

“I just,” you shake your head, refocusing on the current conversation. “I keep thinking maybe I’ll find something that fills in the gaps. I don’t like this pit in my stomach, this feeling that I’ve forgotten something important.” You huff a self-deprecating chuckle. “Other than my soulmate, I mean.”

He offers you a smile, small and lopsided, likely meant to be consoling, but you see right through it. You see his pain in the tightness around his mouth, in the way his fingers flex at his sides like it’s taking all his self-control not to reach out to you. Your confession has hurt him. Badly. It’s the kind of hurt no amount of bacta can heal.

The silence returns, different than the one usually experienced during hyperspace in that it wishes to be broken, for someone to say something, anything. You would grant its wish except your thoughts are a jumbled mess inside your head. Deep down, there is a part of you which knows there is nothing you can say that will fix this—this being the chasm forming between you and Din, widening with every passing second spent staring wordlessly at each other. 

Would telling him sooner have prevented this heartbreak? Probably. But looking back, you can’t think of an opportune moment. You had never thought your crush could be requited—not just because you were already matched, but also because it had always seemed so ridiculous, imagining the great and powerful Death feeling anything remotely close to affection for an unimportant, low-ranking Cupid. 

“Angel,” Din begins after a few minutes, his voice anchoring you back in the present. He’s staring over your shoulder, brow furrowed thoughtfully and you can practically hear the gears turning inside his head. “Earlier, you said you didn’t tell your boss I was your client. Why didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, before an unexpected wave of boldness comes over you. Digging your finger into the armor on his chest, you remind him, “You came to me first, remember? Not them. So, I figured you didn’t want them knowing.”

“I couldn’t care less who knows,” Din deadpans.

“Oh.” You blink, hand falling back along your side, because what else can you say.

“You want to know what I think?” Oh Maker, he’s stepping closer until there’s only a foot of space between you two. His voice is a low, raspy murmur, sending your heartbeat into overdrive. “I think you didn’t want them knowing because you like being the only angel who does.”

You start to squirm, fight or flight instincts at total war with each other. His theory isn’t too far from the truth, making it all the worse hearing it out loud because it practically oozes possessiveness which is exactly what you’d feared.

“Before you pull away from me again,” Din continues, knowing you and your mind too damn well. “I want you to listen when I say nothing that you’ve told me changes how I feel about you.”

“Din—” you try, only for your voice to crack.

Then three things happen at once.

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been alone my entire existence and I kept telling myself that was how the universe intended it to be. That I couldn’t love anyone because I kill everything I touch.” A smile pulls at his lips when he looks down at his bare hand and a note of awe slips into his voice. “Then you came along, beautiful and clumsy and unafraid to call me out for being an ass. I started looking forward to each full moon because it meant I got to see you and admire every new detail about your life you chose to share with me. And then when this appeared,” he nods towards the soulmate marking, gleaming faintly beneath the overhead lighting, “all I could think of was you.”

You feel your throat becoming thick as you blink back tears, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Why didn’t you say anything at the train station? Why would you let me try to set you up with matches if you liked me that way?”

Din grimaces, abashed. “Because after you said there weren’t any Cupids on your list, I realized you didn’t know I liked you. I convinced myself I had to show you how I felt, instead of tell you. Although,” he holds up a finger, backtracking, “I actually almost did confess, on our way to Sorgan, but you stopped me. And that just further convinced me actions spoke louder than words. I knew none of the people you found me could ever compare with you, so I thought once you saw each unsuccessful connection, you’d realize the only hand I want to hold is yours.”

“Din, it can’t be me.” Your protest is weak, on the verge of caving in, forcing you to try another angle. “I can’t have two soulmates.”

He inhales a breath so sharp and unexpected, it startles your poor heart into skipping a beat.

Din looks at you like you’ve gifted him all the stars in the galaxy, brown eyes blown wide with hope. “Angel, do you mean it? That you consider me—”

“Of course, you idiot.” You attempt a laugh, but it comes out sounding broken and forced. “As Death, as Din, as whoever you want to be, I’ll always consider you. But...what if what happened on Sorgan happens to us? What if the universe doesn’t favor us?”

“I just want to be yours.” Din extends his hand towards you. “And if that means breaking the universe’s rules, then fuck it. We’ll make up our own. Together.”

Time seems to stand still, like you’ve entered a realm separate from the rest of the universe where you’re able to forget you have a complicated past, filled with holes and a soulmate who rejected you. Here it’s just you, Din, and his offer to love you unconditionally. Here you have a choice.

And it’s the easiest one you’ve ever made.

You slowly lift up your hand to hover in front of his, fingers trembling as they uncurl.

“Together,” you whisper.

And then your hands are moving to meet one another, closer and closer until his fingertips brush yours, sending a spark of warmth through your nervous system. Oh, Maker, you had described what you imagined a soulmate connection was like, but you had no idea this is the true experience. It’s like a sunrise dissolving midnight skies, lighting up your surroundings with breathtaking vibrancy. You can’t fathom how you survived all this time being in his presence without feeling his touch.

“Dank farrik,” he mutters hoarsely, sounding just as overwhelmed and awestruck as you feel.

You open your mouth, but instead of words a whimper of agony escapes instead. That lovely warmth spreading from your linked hands has started to boil, white-hot and furious. It’s as if all your internal parts have caught fire and are slowly withering to ash—your organs, your bones, even your kriffing blood. 

Your body crumples and Din cries out your name, but you don’t get to hear him say it, unconscious before your head collides with the floor.

Tag List:  @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @eleine-t1d​, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan

[eggrestes]

ladrien fic recs!

there are SO MANY amazing ladrien fics i cant possibly cover them all but here are a few!

(all the ratings used are ao3 ratings)

((this is a very long post!))

FLUFF

Of Ivy and Sunlight by cyanise [ T, 1509 words, 1/1 ]

When Adrien takes to wandering the streets of Paris in ungodly hours, Ladybug has no choice but to keep an eye on him. Still, things are bound to get a little out of hand between two overloaded teenagers with a lot of love and not enough self-control. 

a lovely post-chat blanc fic :’) it has a great flow and is just soft and so sweet and it’s just perfect. gosh i cannot really say more other than read it!!! also almost all of their other stuff is also ladrien so do check it out!

This can't be happening by PlaPla [ T,  6,467 words, 1/2 ]

Ladybug is unsure whether accompanying Adrien to a gala as his not-date is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to her. But when their table mates turn out to be none other than her long time friends Alya and Nino and with Adrien acting weirder and weirder she finds herself with bigger worries than an unrequited crush.

a djwifi/ladrien double date? hit me up! i love identity shenanigans, ball dancing, ladrien, and djwifi and this is a perfect mix for me. i know it’s incomplete but it doesn’t end in a cliff-hanger really, the part 2 is just a promise of more so it doesn’t feel incomplete! PlaPla also has a short oneshot of ladrien going for a motorcycle ride.

Falling again by emsylcatac [ M,  4,506 words, 2 Works ]

They had been dancing around each other for a while now, and while fifteen year old Adrien would have been ecstatic at the idea of dating Ladybug in secret, twenty-two year old Adrien knew better. But Ladybug wasn’t making it easy. It was like… she, too, was falling for him. And that surprisingly enough, she didn’t mind.

* * *

Or Adrien trying (and failing) to keep things professional between him and Ladybug when the two of them partner up for a mission. Older AU

things are a little steamy~ here (don’t worry, it’s only implied it’s very mild and closer to a T rating than the M) but it’s a great mature take on their dynamics! emsy has more ladrien one-shots in her collection of one-shots!

i'd love to go on a date with you by sae_what  [ G,  6,480 words, 1/1 ]

Once it had been falsely announced throughout Paris that Adrien and Ladybug are in a relationship, Ladybug pays him a visit to turn him down gently.

Only, she doesn’t. And instead, she has a formal dinner date. With Adrien. At 8 pm. Tonight.

LADYBUG IN A SUIT!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. okay but for real it’s so sweet and also??? they are on a date!!! a rooftop date!! (too man exclamation marks oops)

Always Welcome by  chatonne-rousse [ T, 1,683 words, 1/1 ]

Ladybug knows that Adrien's window is always open for her to swing by and stop in, whether for video games or a chat or, like tonight, for soft kisses and sweet nothings.

He loves these visits. His girlfriend is always welcome. Always. (Especially for kisses.)

Written for Ladrien June, day 8: bluebell eyes.

established relationship, pre-reveal ladrien. there is something very home-y about this fic and it’s all about the comfort and quiet that i adore about it!

Five Times Gabriel Agreste Caught Ladybug in His Son’s Bedroom (and the One Time He Caught Chat Noir) by agrestenoir [ T,  1,923 words, 1/1]

Gabriel Agreste keeps finding Ladybug in his son's bedroom. As a super villain and father, this will not stand.

this crack fic is... honestly so hilarious. it’s all through gabrie-i-am-trying-to-parent-and-failing-a-lot-agreste’s POV so it is so much ridiculous! 

an uncurtain discovery by  Missnoodles [ T, 4,684 words, 1/1 ]

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Adrien is being a cat and gets tangled in the curtains on his window and it’s utterly ridiculous. all the bug and the cat tendencies make it funnier and adrien’s inner monologue is just a cherry on top!

secret valentine by a_miiraculer [ T,  12,245 words, 1/1 ]

this is the moment that we will come alive brace yourself for love sweet love, secret love

If Adrien had known that getting himself stuck in a tree would end like this, he would've gotten himself stuck sooner.

A drabble series.

i just,,,, don’t have words for how much i love it! it’s ridiculous, it’s cute, it’s funny, it’s whole-some and just ladrien. the writer also has a M rated multi-chapter ladrien kissing (no the M is very much real here) and a heroic adrien and ladybug one-shot too! 

Those Benevolent Stars by peachcitt [ G,  23,696 words, 3/3 ]

“Will you come back?”

She looked up at the deep blue sky, as if she could somehow find the answer there. “I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head and looking back at him. But the stars were still there, caught in her eyes, and Adrien persisted.

“But will you?”

or

adrien meets his soulmate, a thief who calls herself ladybug. he falls for her, but she seems determined to maintain a space between them.

oh my god this au.... just no words!! it’s poetry and it’s tender and it’s about the yearning and just!!! perfect :’). Her current ongoing ladrien june fic is also akin to this (and the fic i linked before it) so do check it out too! (literally check out all of their works it’s so beautiful)

Flowers on the Window Sill by LNC [ G,  2,144 words, 1/1 ]

The first time Ladybug saw him, really saw him, the universe stopped.

this fic feels like poetry and it’s so lovely. LNC is always short and direct but it always hits right in the feels while also being hilarious. Her  other ladrien works are just as good and i highly recommend going through them because it fulfills all of the ladrien needs (along with Reiaji)

whatever a sun will always sing is you by komorebirei [ T,  32,980 words, 37/37 ]

“I didn't think you'd actually... do anything," Adrien admitted, cheeks prickling with warmth. "I-I mean, I never expected... I didn't know you watched my interviews.” That definitely wasn’t how he'd imagined confessing to Ladybug.

“Of course I do!” Ladybug squeaked. “Uhh, that is…” She looked down at her hands, nervously turning her yo-yo over, over and over. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a crush.”

(After an unexpected confession, Ladybug and Adrien start dating in secret. A progressive character- and relationship-study quilted from drabbles, with the intention of digging treasure out of the cove that is Ladrien. Written using kashimalin-fanfiction's kiss writing prompts from Tumblr.)

it does such an excellent job at exploring this dynamic along with the characters. it’s such a sweet fic, each chapter short and fun!

ANGST

whose woods these are (I think I know.) by  Reiaji [ T,  105,000 words, 25/25 ]

Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.

As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.

Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.

[Ladrien Cinderella AU]

Warnings: Child abuse, Graphic depiction of violence

this is absolutely gorgeous. it has so many troupes and so many amazing character arc and great build up and everything just flows so well. it left me in awe for weeks and i just. want to experience reading it for the first time again. look at this gorgeous art inspired by this! {and you have to read  leonard bernstein too because LETTERS and LADRIEN and YEARNING}

i would do it again (oh, a thousand times) by bugabisous [ T, 2,266 words, 1/1 ]

Knowing you can bring someone back doesn’t mean you’re free of the pain of seeing them disappear before your eyes. He can’t imagine he’ll be able to look at her directly without replaying every horrifying moment when he felt her slip away in a puff of smoke.

When it happens once again, he already knows he’ll be trying again. He just can’t give up.

it expands on adrien’s feelings in the episode desperada (my beloved <3) and it is just ouch. such great angst, such great potential. the kind of tragedy that it offers is unusual for ml (it gets only rivaled by chat blanc tbh). to rival this angst bugabisous also has a fluffy one-shot :)

when the world gets too heavy (put it on my back) by Taliax [ T, 4,720 words, 1/1 ]

Chat Noir isn't allowed to cry over his father. But even when he's just Adrien, Ladybug won't abandon him.

Hawkmoth reveal hurt/comfort + Ladrien

the plagg and adrien bond written is just perfect, and oh this hits right in the feels :’) it hurts all in the right way. tali also has so many other ladrien works in all genres too

By Your Side by omniousunflower [ T, 4,361 words, 1/1 ]

(Angry and alone, Adrien waits on top of the Eiffel Tower for his lady.)

“So, how did my kitty get stranded up here?” Ladybug asks.

Groaning, Adrien pulls his knees toward his chest and presses his face against them. “Because he’s stupid and impulsive.”

“Chasing pigeons, then?”

“No.” Shame burns in Adrien’s veins, white-hot now that Ladybug is here to witness his stupidity. “I threw my Miraculous, and Plagg wouldn’t get it for me.”

post-hawkmoth defeat, and adrien is not doing well at all. i am cheating because it is post reveal, pre relationship but it’s still ladrien. this fic is a roller coater of emotions, starting from a slightly crack scenario to a cute, awkward, hopeful ending.  More Than You Know is another of sunny’s angsty ladrien work!

Breaking The Rules (AKA The Ladrien Fistfight) by ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap [ T, 8,714 words, 1/1 ]

Marinette may or may not be dying, but she’s still going to do her best to fix every single problem in the world. She’s not expecting Adrien to be the one who tries to stop her. (Takes place immediately after Kwami Buster)

Warnings: panic attack, broken bones, PTSD. please read the tags!

*slaps this fic* this fic can fit in so much angst. it just?? left me in PAIN oof. it says ‘ladrien fistfight’ on the lid but nooo there is marinette is just having a freak out and it’s all so much??!! and it’s not just marinette there is adrien too and chloe and alya and- wow it’s amazing. love it so much it fills up my angst needs :’)

so that’s it for now! my personal commentary isn’t impressive nor does it do justice to the fic but i still hope you read a few of these!! happy reading!!

[bbangsoonie]

creker academy

member: eric genre: fluff (ft some angst), fantasy au word count: 6,182 synopsis: after finally triggering your hidden powers, fate lands you at creker academy, a special boarding school meant for shapeshifters. there, you learn how to control your abilities and that opposites do indeed attract.

The day you found out that you were adopted was the day your life fell apart. The secret was hidden from you until your uncle coldly drew the line at your parents’ funeral. He told you that he had no intention of taking responsibility for his brother’s actions and that you were no longer a part of the family.

That was how you ended up living alone in a tiny half-basement studio. You barely managed to afford the deposit and rent with the consolation money you received from the funeral.

Every day, Hyunjoon would come knocking at your door and every day, you would turn him away. It had only been a month since you became independent and the scar of losing your parents was still fresh. You were also too ashamed to face your friends. You didn’t want their pity and so you hid away in isolation.

On the night of your birthday, the pain became too unbearable. Although you aged another year, you were still only a teenager. Granted, you were in your last year of high school but you were still a minor. Having to fend for yourself in this harsh world was too much for you to handle.

As you cried yourself to sleep, you could feel a cold coming. The heat from your headache spread to the rest of your body and you felt yourself burning up.

After you bought some medicine from the pharmacy, you slipped into a deep slumber. Your dreams were wildly vivid. You dreamt of an enchanted forest that enticed you to take refuge in its comfort. There, animals of all species ran free and in harmony. It promised you acceptance and a home.

“It’s time you learn of your identity,” a soft voice spoke.

As soon as the whisper tickled your ears, the entire forest was up in flames. Strangely, you weren’t struck with fear. Rather, you felt empowered.

“Y/n, you need to learn how to control yourself,” the voice warned.

It was only then that you started to panic. The flames were engulfing everything in sight and all the animals were running for their lives.

“Y/n, you have to wake up. Now,” the voice commanded.

With that, your eyes shot open. To your horror, the scene in your dreams reflected the view in front of you. Your house was on fire and you were slowly getting cornered by the heat. Frightened, you look to the door only to see it consumed by the blaze.

“Trust your instincts, Y/n,” the voice in your head cooed. “Let your body take control.”

Bewildered, you had no idea what that meant. All you knew was that you had to get out of there. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to think of a solution. When you reopened them, the room seemed to be a lot bigger than normal. At that moment, you saw the window cracked open. It was your only hope.

Your body felt different when you stood up.

“Why am I so short all of a sudden?” you wondered.

You looked down and almost screamed when you saw paws instead of your feet. Except a meow came out of your throat instead.

You didn’t have time to freak out about it. Feeling something hot graze your tail, you jumped up and landed on the window sill. Your innate desire for survival kicked in and you squeezed through the opening to escape.

Once you felt fresh air in your lungs again, you ran. And ran. And ran. You didn’t know why or where you were going, but something in you told you to run. Your legs kept sprinting until they reached the forest that appeared in your dream. They came to a slow stop when you realized where you were.

“What is this place?” you pondered.

“This is the border between our world and the human world,” a woman in white suddenly emerged from the trees. “You are now about to cross into our territory.”

It was the same voice from your dream. Trying to grasp the situation, you opened your mouth to ask a million questions. But again, a meow replaced your voice.

“It’ll be easier for you to transition back once you're on our grounds,” she assured. She bent down and gestured for you to jump into her arms.

Not seeing any other option, you hesitantly took her offer. With you safely in her embrace, she passed through a translucent wall that revealed what looked like a huge campus. Your jaw dropped as you observed your surroundings. There were students walking around the magical place. You saw a girl tending the garden and gasped when her hands hovered above the flowers to revive them.

The woman brought you to an office you presumed to be hers and placed you in front of a mirror. Your shriek came out as a cute yelp and she chuckled.

“I-I’m a cat!” you thought.

“There’s an outfit you can change into once you return to your human form,” she pointed at the black dress neatly prepared on the table.

The second she finished her sentence, you felt a bare sensation. Looking down, you screeched at your naked body. Embarrassed and horrified, you quickly clothed yourself with the dress.

“W-What’s going on?” you asked, relieved to finally hear your own voice again.

“I’m sure you felt different from others your whole life?” she asked. It sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

She wasn’t wrong. All your life, you never felt like you fitted in anywhere. Maybe your body knew you were adopted before your mind did and ostracized itself. Or maybe you truly were different. You had weird talents that other kids thought were freaky, making you hide them and become introverted. For instance, you were suspiciously good at starting fires from scratch at summer camp and didn’t feel any pain when your shirt accidentally caught on fire.

“I know this must be shocking to you but you’re special, Y/n. We’ve been waiting for you. Waiting for you to trigger your powers to bring you here,” she smiled.

“My what?” you gaped.

“Your powers. What you just did back at your old house and right now. You’re a shapeshifter, Y/n. A shapeshifter with the element of fire,” she explained.

“I’m a what now?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“Creker Academy is a school and home for students just like you. It’s a place meant to train you how to control your powers. Without our guidance, you’ll lead down a path of self-destruction.”

Baffled by her words, you stared in silence. There was no way any of this was true. Surely this had to be a dream.

“This isn’t a prank or a dream, Y/n. You’ve finally found where you belong,” she clarified.

Belong. You had never felt like you really belonged anywhere. But now, someone was telling you that you belonged with them. That they wanted you there. That they had been waiting for you.

“I understand you must feel overwhelmed. But there are procedures to follow so I’m afraid you will have to begin your tour first. A fellow student will be arriving soon to show you around.”

As if on cue, a boy around your age knocked on the door and came in after receiving the woman’s permission to enter.

“Hello, Headmaster,” he bowed.

“Eric, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Eric. He will be helping you adjust here,” she introduced.

Eric was bright eyed and eager to meet a new friend. You, on the other hand, were quite reserved and uncomfortable in your new environment.

He was excitedly pointing out the purpose of each room you passed by and rambled on about the social norms of the boarding school. You learned that on top of academics, there were classes on virtues and physical training. And of course, classes that taught you how to properly use and contain your powers.

The use of magic was strictly prohibited inside any and all buildings. Students could practice their skills outside but were forbidden from any acts that could potentially put someone or something at risk. That was the one rule that was rigidly enforced and obeyed.

“So what animal and element are you?” he curiously pried. “I’m a dog with the element of water.”

“I’m… apparently a cat,” you felt ridiculous saying it aloud. “And control fire.”

“Ah, you’re a member of the fire element,” he nodded. “What that means is that your element rivals with mine. Some people see fire elements as hotheaded, impulsive, and extreme. Water elements are sometimes emotional, sensitive, and antisocial. But those are all just stereotypes, of course. Not everyone fits into the standard. I, for one, am very outgoing. And your animal obviously plays a role in your personality. I guess the dog in me overpowers the water.”

You had moved on from the indoor portion of the tour to the outside part. He was showing you the garden you had passed by earlier. It was full of flowers that wouldn’t be in bloom this season in the normal world.

“I’m a strong believer in that there are good traits about each element. For example, fire elements are passionate, inspirational, and expressive. They’re arguably the most fun people you’ll ever meet. Water elements are empathetic, imaginative, and loving. But again, all this is relative and doesn’t accurately describe each person,” he reminded. “The only reason there’s still a stupid feud is because some people love sticking to the status quo and labeling others.”

“What are the other elements? Air and earth?”

“Yup! Air elements are independent, talkative, fickle, and nonconformists. Most likely social butterflies. Earth elements are disciplined, loyal, organized, and judgemental. Oftentimes the leader.”

Eric greeted a male student who was passing by with two other boys. He exchanged smiles with the three of them who offered you a kind nod of acknowledgement.

“That was Sangyeon. He’s a bear. On his left is Jacob, a rabbit. The one on the right is Younghoon, who’s also a dog like me. They’re all earth elements,” he disclosed. “Sangyeon is the class representative of our grade. Definitely fits the leader stereotype.”

You couldn’t get over how thrilled he was to be your tour guide. He was filling you in on even the little details of the social life at the academy. He told you about how transfer students were rare and that it was his first time seeing a new student.

His vibrancy contrasted your somber aura. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He was having too much fun getting to know you.

“Oh! That’s Hyunjae and Juyeon,” Eric suddenly pointed at a pair of boys on a morning run. He waved at the two who waved back before speeding up.

“The one with brown hair is Hyunjae, a wolf and fire element. His real name is Jaehyun but he changed it to Hyunjae once he got to Creker Academy. Juyeon’s the one with black hair and is a cat like you. Except he’s a water element like me,” he grinned. “They’re my best friends. Oh, and this guy named Sunwoo who’s a raccoon with the element of fire. As you can see, water and fire elements can get along fine and well. So don’t listen to anyone who says otherwise.”

By the time he was done showing you around, a bell rang and students began to convene inside. Eric explained that the bell was signaling the beginning of classes and brought you to his homeroom.

“Breakfast is buffet style and self served. It’s up to you to wake up and come down to eat. The cafeteria remains open for an hour until that bell rings and we have to get to class,” he said you entered.

Looking around for an empty seat, his face lit up when he spotted one. He sat at his desk and tapped on the one behind him to let you know that it was yours to take.

You still hadn’t processed all that’s happened since dawn. Everything felt like a haze. Nevertheless, you found yourself paying attention when the teacher walked in. He scanned the room to find a new face and smiled when he made eye contact with you.

“Alright, guys. I’m happy to announce that we have a new student that will be joining us starting today,” he beckoned for you to come up to the front of the classroom.

You wanted to shrivel up and crawl into a hole. Feeling your classmates gazes on you, you gulped and began to sweat. You were never a fan of attention. You quickly introduced yourself before rushing back to your seat, eliciting giggles from a few students. Your cheeks heated up and you felt that burning tingle again.

The awkwardness made you transform back into a cat, making your classmates gasp. Their intensified stares made the tips of your fur ignite, alarming the teacher who tried to calm you down.

“Well I guess she’s a fire cat,” a girl snickered.

Eric shot her a glare before leaning in to ask if you wanted him to put the fire out with his water. Not knowing what else to do, you nodded and the next thing you knew, you were drenched.

So much for your first day.

You ran out of the room before you could change back into a human. You fled but didn’t know where to go. You grew anxious, desperately hoping you wouldn’t end up flashing anyone.

“Hey!” someone called out. You turned around to see a male approaching you. Panicking, you dove into a bush.

“You’re the newbie, right?” he asked, taking something out of his bag. He dug out a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts and placed them in front of you. “I usually carry around a spare outfit in case of emergencies. I hope you don’t mind the fit.”

You were still in your animal form so you peaked your head out to look at him.

“My name’s Chanhee. Air element penguin,” he squatted down to meet your eyes. “Everyone’s first day is rough. You’re not the only one who’s had incidents like this so try not to feel so bad about it.”

He stood to go back to class, leaving you to change in privacy once you returned to your normal body. Your hair was still wet as you dragged yourself back to the headmaster’s office.

The headmaster looked at you with pity when you walked in looking worn out. You didn’t have to tell her for her to know what happened.

“How about I show you to your dorm?” she warmly suggested. Anything was better than returning to the classroom.

Due to your late enrollment, you were assigned a single room as opposed to the traditional double rooms. You were glad you didn’t have to go through the process of meeting and getting used to a roommate. It was a small but cozy space and the closet was filled with clothes.

You realized all of your belongings were probably burned down in your old home. Now you really didn’t have anything to go back to.

Before the headmaster left to allow you to settle in, she insisted that you join your classmates for lunch later. You wanted to say that you just wanted to stay in your room but her stern look had you close your mouth.

So you begrudgingly made your way to the cafeteria and gawked at the amount of students packed inside. Feeling them stare at you, you tried to ignore their whispers as you grabbed a tray of food. To your relief, you saw Eric motioning you over and went to go sit down next to him.

His group of friends was fairly large. You saw the boys he had named earlier that day and were surprised to see Chanhee again.

“Hi! I’m Changmin,” one enthusiastically waved. “I’m an air squirrel.”

“Haknyeon, air pig,” another raised his hand.

“My animal is a hamster and my element is water. You can call me Kevin,” the last one smiled.

After shyly exchanging greetings with everyone, you poked at the rice on your plate. The food was undeniably better than the food served at your old school. However, thinking about your old school made your stomach drop as you thought of the friends you left behind. You were sure Hyunjoon was worried sick about you.

“Do you hate water? And have you always hated water? I would assume you don’t like it very much as a cat and fire element,” Changmin looked at you with sparkling eyes that displayed his curiosity.

“Yeah I actually never learned how to swim. I guess that explains why. I never had a reason when my friends asked me about it,” you mused. In hindsight, your unreasonable hatred and fear of water made sense.

“Interesting, interesting,” he nodded.

Like that, the next couple of months flew by. You were put on an intensive program to catch up with your peers and received one-on-one tutoring to help you learn how to shapeshift at will. You could now easily turn into a cat but still had trouble returning to your human form.

To your dismay, you were denied communication with the outside world. The headmaster was very much against risking having the academy and everyone’s identities exposed. Which meant that you weren’t allowed to contact anyone from your previous life.

One good thing was that you were no longer the hot topic of the school. People’s interest in you died down when you didn’t reciprocate theirs.

You grew close to Eric and his group of friends. They were an interesting bunch. Each of them were uniquely chaotic.

Eric was the exact opposite of you. Literally. As a water element dog, his personality contrasted your fiery cat. Everything from your food tastes to fashion style were different. Yet, you felt the most comfortable with him. He brought light into your life and made adjusting to your new school easier.

You were also always at odds with Juyeon. Although you were both cats, he was everything you weren’t. He was sweet but you just didn’t match on so many things. This meant for a very awkward but pleasant friendship.

You got along best with Chanhee. His air side complemented your fire and he quickly became your closest friend. He was both sassy and caring and you appreciated his endless concern and support for you.

Changmin was a wild card. He and Sunwoo wrecked havoc everywhere they went as Younghoon and Haknyeon incited them while Kevin and Jacob were trying their best to prevent them from destroying the campus. Sangyeon and Hyunjae, who were usually busy with student council matters, were the only ones who could calm everyone down but sometimes chose to enjoy the mayhem.

“Did you guys hear the rumors?” Sunwoo bursted through the classroom door panting. “The headmaster is considering an overnight field trip for the seniors!”

Jaws dropped and gasps spread throughout the students. The room was immediately in a buzz as everyone was shocked and excited at the possibility of leaving the sealed territory. It had been 5 years since students were allowed a trip in the outside world.

The homeroom teacher came in and hushed everyone to quiet down. He couldn’t hide the smile that forced its way onto his face after seeing how happy his students looked.

“Is it true we might get a senior trip?” Haknyeon impatiently asked.

“I cannot comment on that. An official announcement will be made later today,” the teacher said.

“That’s not a no!” Younghoon squealed.

True to his words, the headmaster’s voice was heard over the PA system before the dismissal bell. She congratulated the seniors on their hard work and announced that they would be given the opportunity to sign up to spend 3 days and 2 nights on a cruise.

The entire floor of students erupted into cheers and you heard footsteps run across as they barged into classrooms to find their friends and rejoice together. Changmin came into your classroom dragging Kevin and Juyeon behind him.

“Guys, I can’t believe it! It’s been forever since I last saw humans,” Changmin gushed.

“The whole point of us going on a private boat is to ensure that we don’t have any run-ins with humans,” Kevin reminded.

“Yeah but I’m sure we’d pass by them on our way there,” Changmin rolled his eyes.

Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Jacob strolled in, greeting your group of friends with a nod of acknowledgment. They waited as the rest of you gathered your stuff to leave together.

“Everyone’s going, right? Y/n, you too?” Eric asked.

“Umm,” you hesitated as you looked at their expectant eyes. “I honestly don’t know if it’d be a good idea… I’m still not in complete control over my powers.”

“Aw but Y/n! You can’t miss out on this once in a lifetime trip with all of us!” Sunwoo whined.

“Yeah, it’ll be your last time leaving campus before graduating! Plus, it’ll be your first and last major bonding experience with our class,” Younghoon pouted.

“I know how hard fire can be to control. If you want, I can stay with you and try to help you detect signs of distress before it manifests itself,” Hyunjae offered.

“And I‘ll be next to you to put out any accidents!” Eric beamed.

“You know I always have extra clothes in my bag,” Chanhee added.

You couldn’t say no to the 11 pairs of pleading eyes. They all so desperately wanted you to go with them that it warmed your heart. It hadn’t even been long since you first met them but they always treated you like you were with them from the start.

So you added your name to the list of students and that was how you ended up dragging your suitcase to the giant cruise ship. Haknyeon was bouncing in excitement next to you as the throng of high schoolers slowly made their way inside.

Room assignments were the same as back at the academy, which meant that you were in a single by yourself again. Changmin expressed his envy as Chanhee happily pulled him into their shared room.

Once you were unpacked, you headed to the deck and admired the seascape. The ship was already sailing into the vast ocean and the endless horizon felt so freeing. Leaning on the handrails, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The salty smell brought back memories of visiting the beach with your parents.

You felt someone join you but didn’t open your eyes. You could tell by their footsteps that it was Eric.

“Enjoying the change in environment?” he asked.

“Makes me a bit nostalgic,” you said as you opened your eyes.

The wind was strong and the waves were violently crashing into the sides of the boat. With the sun glistening in the water’s reflection, you squinted a bit to appreciate the scenery in front of you.

“Isn’t the view so pretty?” you sighed in content. You didn’t notice that he wasn’t looking at the sea. Instead, he was staring at you.

“Yeah. Extremely pretty,” he found himself saying with a soft smile.

To Eric’s slight annoyance, Sunwoo came and tactlessly interrupted the moment to tell you two to meet everyone else at the pool. He was raving about the jacuzzi next to it and eagerly tugged at Eric’s sleeve to hurry him up.

Younghoon was already shoving Hyunjae’s head underwater when you arrived. Jacob waved at you from the chaise lounge and you sat down next to him. Giggling, you watched Sangyeon climb on top of both of them as Juyeon egged him on. Changmin and Chanhee were relaxing in the jacuzzi while Kevin and Haknyeon were piling food on their plates at the snack bar.

Eric was thrown into the pool thanks to Sunwoo’s push and he emerged to the surface screaming and laughing. Using his powers to add more pressure, he splashed Sunwoo with water, who ran off shrieking.

“Do you not like the water as well?” you turned around to face Jacob.

“I don’t necessarily dislike it but I don’t really like it either,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind jumping in if the guys tell me to join.”

“Do you hate the water or are you afraid of it?” Haknyeon asked as he and Kevin took a seat next to you.

“I guess both?” you answered.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I’m actually not that fond of large bodies of water either,” Kevin said as he offered Jacob a bite of his pizza. “Pretty weird for a water element, huh?”

“Hey, hey, we don’t stick to stereotypes. We are all individuals with personalities and preferences unique to our own character,” Jacob chided.

“Oh how I love confirmation biases,” Haknyeon joked.

You had to admit it was pretty interesting to see how each person matched and defied their element and animal characteristics. It was like taking a personality test and fervently agreeing with the parts that were true and blatantly ignoring the parts that weren’t.

The rest of the day was spent fooling around and playing games. There was never a dull moment with the boys. They were always in high spirits and full of energy.

Even at dinner, your table was the loudest one. Juyeon had been sneakily stealing a few bites of fish off of Haknyeon’s plate, who took great offense when he finally noticed. Meanwhile, Eric was bargaining with Younghoon for his chicken. At the mention of chicken, Hyunjae joined in on the negotiation of the last piece of meat.

So far, you haven't had a risky moment with either your element or animal. You were in complete control and didn’t need guidance—although Chanhee remained by your side just in case. When you made it back to your room to call it a night, you were relieved and proud that the trip was going smoothly without any hiccups.

Perhaps you spoke too early.

In one of the rooms down the hall, a girls’ night had turned awry. One of the girls, a water element, began crying and started a waterflow that got out of hand. The more she panicked and tried to stop it, the higher the water rose. It quickly seeped into the hallway and into other rooms.

With her friends screaming at her to make it stop, it only escalated with a loud whoosh as the door broke open from the pressure. Now in full panic mode, the girls shrieked and realized that the place was flooding from the inside out.

They trudged through the rising water to flee, banging on doors on their way out. Doors swung open as students woke up from the commotion.

By the time Juyeon finally managed to wake Eric up from his deep sleep, the water was nearly up to the bed. The roommates freaked out, wondering what the heck was going on. Juyeon quickly grabbed his bag and hurried Eric to leave.

On their way out, however, they saw that your door was still closed.

“Shit, Y/n can’t swim,” Eric gasped.

“The water’s not that deep yet. Let’s get her out while it’s still walkable,” Juyeon said as he threw his bag down and started walking towards your room.

Meanwhile, you were still sound asleep. You were startled awake by the pounding. When you registered the situation, the fear made you shift into a cat before you could get up and unlock the door. You anxiously glanced at the closed door as the water began to climb up your body.

Outside, Eric felt a pit form in his stomach. Getting worried, he decided to break your door open. With the help of Juyeon, he barely slammed the heavy wood down by mustering up all the strength he had.

“Y/n!” he yelled when he finally saw you.

You were struggling to keep your head above the water and it was getting harder by the second to not breathe in the liquid. He rushed to pick you up and kept you afloat even when he stumbled. The waves were now reaching his chest.

Juyeon transformed into his cat form to swim as Eric trekked through the hall. You were clinging onto him and Eric was holding onto you tightly as well. You could feel him pant and his heart beat fast. Tucked under his arm, you looked up to see beads of sweat falling from his forehead.

Your own heart skipped a beat at the sight. You could tell how much he cared for you. He made you feel wanted. Needed. Important.

You two were polar opposites but still complemented each other so well. He was the optimism you lacked and you were his rock. You kept him grounded and he made you laugh.

When you finally escaped to the deck, Juyeon stepped away to change back into a human and put on clothes. Your friends crowded around you, Younghoon drying you off with a towel and Chanhee placing a clean outfit next to you.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” the headmaster called out, turning heads. “I’m glad you’re all safely out but it’ll take some time to drain the water. Please calmly stay in groups until we sort everything out.”

Thanks to your months of training, you were now able to sense when your transformation was about to occur. You grabbed the clothes with your mouth and ran off before you could flash anyone. You sheepishly returned wearing one of Chanhee’s pajama shirts and with water still dripping from your hair.

“Y/n!” Sunwoo dramatically whined, jumping you for a hug. Displeased, Eric peeled him off of you and handed you another towel.

“Thanks, Eric,” you smiled. “For… everything.”

“No problem,” he grinned as he ruffled your head.

“Thank God these two got you out safe and sound,” Sangyeon sighed in relief. You apologized for worrying everyone, to which Hyunjae insisted that you had no reason to feel sorry.

Luckily, the next day was not as eventful. A dinner party was prepared for the last night on the cruise and you got to dress up and have fun. You enjoyed a relaxing time in the ballroom with music playing from the speakers and the boys embarrassing themselves on the dance floor.

You giggled as you watched Changmin ask his crush for a dance after Chanhee quite literally pushed his friend to approach her. It was sweet to see both of them all shy in each other’s arms.

Juyeon nudged Eric and nodded in your direction to ask if he was going to ask you to dance as well. When Eric pretended not to know what he was talking about, Sunwoo joined in to tease him.

“Come on, bro. We all know you like her. Just hurry up and make a move already,” Sunwoo snickered.

“Ooh are we talking about Y/n?” Hyunjae came after eavesdropping.

“I hate you guys,” Eric rolled his eyes as he tried to hide his blush.

Learning from Chanhee, Sunwoo shoved his best friend towards you and fled after he bumped into you. Shooting him a glare, Eric silently swore at him with his eyes. He cringed before turning around to face you.

He felt his breath being stolen away when his eyes met yours. You were absolutely stunning. The glimmer of the chandelier shining on your enhanced your features and he found himself lost in your orbs.

From a few tables away, Kevin and Jacob had joined the other three guys to fanboy over the interaction. Juyeon whispered “he’s totally whipped” to Sunwoo who failed to hold back his laughter. Eric, however, didn’t even notice. He was too busy gaping at you.

“Uhh is there something on my face?” you asked, bringing your palm to your cheek. You were slightly self conscious at his intense staring.

“Beauty,” he blurted. Trying to play it cool, he acted confident and ignored the burst of laughter from his friends. You felt your face heat up at his comment and awkwardly coughed as you looked away.

“Y-You look great too,” you stuttered.

On his way to pour himself some more punch, Chanhee loudly told you to just dance with Eric. He passed by and continued to walk towards the drinks without a care as to how flustered he left you two. Your friends were practically doubling over in laughter at this point.

So Eric boldly held your hand and gently guided you to the dance floor. Feeling your body heat up, he applied his cooling powers on you to prevent you from igniting flames.

“I guess we could say there’s a spark between us,” he joked.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur. You hadn’t felt so carefree in so long. For the first time in a while, you weren’t hung up on the past or worried about the future. You simply appreciated the moment as you were living it.

You never expected things to turn out the way it did. With the death of your parents, you lost a lot of things. But your new friends made you feel complete again. They healed you in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

The revelation of your true identity also brought you peace. You no longer felt like the odd one out. Your own powers didn’t scare you and you felt safe learning about them at the boarding school.

However, you began to doubt all of that the second you docked back on land. You were chatting with Eric about his favorite ramen brand when an all-too-familiar voice made you freeze.

“Y/n..?” he carefully called out. He slowly came up to see if it really was you and gasped when he saw that it was.

Eric didn’t know why he suddenly felt uneasy. Maybe it was because an unknown male had made a reappearance in your life or maybe it was because he recognized the way he was looking at you. It was the same way he looked at you as well.

Chanhee, now protective and defensive, slightly pushed you to the back to ask who he was.

“It’s okay, Chanhee. He’s my friend,” you assured, stepping forward.

Juyeon scowled, not liking that you were interacting with people from the human world. It was borderline going against the rules.

“Hey, Hyunjoon. Long time no see,” you timidly greeted.

“Are you kidding me? You disappeared after a fire burned down your house and that’s all you have to say to me?” Hyunjoon fumed.

You winced at the pain evident in his voice. It had hurt you to ignore your best friend and there hadn’t been a day where you didn’t miss him. Guilt-ridden, you were unable to meet his eyes. He took you by surprise by pulling you in for a hug.

“We thought of the worst, Y/n,” he murmured. “I forgive you for going M.I.A. on me. It’s okay. Everything’s fine as long as you’re here.”

You choked back tears but couldn’t stop one from falling down your cheek. You heard the headmaster gathering the students to get on the bus back home and knew that you didn’t have much time before you had to leave him again. Sangyeon patted you on the shoulder and ran ahead to ask the headmaster for leniency.

“I-I have to go soon,” you stammered as you broke away from his embrace.

“Go where? You’re not coming back home?” Hyunjoon asked.

“I… have a new home now,” you gulped. “I can’t tell you where and I can’t promise that I’ll be able to see you again. But I’ve missed you. I still do.”

“Are you safe?” he whispered after staying silent for a bit. “Are you happy?”

You took a glimpse of your group of friends that was unconvincingly pretending to not listen to the conversation. It almost made you chuckle despite the situation.

“Yeah,” you trailed off. “I’m doing well, Hyunjoon. And I hope the same for you. I’m sorry.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” he forced a smile as he hugged you one last time. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Hyunjoon.”

It pained you to see him watch you walk away. Your heart broke with each step you took. On the ride back to the forest, you stared out the window. Eric, sitting next to you, softly squeezed your hand to offer you some comfort.

“I made the right choice, right?” you asked, leaning on his shoulder.

“Do you regret it?” he cautiously asked.

You thought about it. You definitely missed Hyunjoon and all of your other old friends. You also definitely felt bad that you left them behind without a word and still couldn’t provide an explanation. But at the same time, you’ve grown to love your new school and new friends. You no longer had to be on edge without even knowing the reason why. Creker Academy made you feel confident. The boys made you feel accepted. Eric made you feel loved.

“No,” you answered with certainty. “Not at all.”

a/n: for the eric to my sunwoo, @sohnhorizon​

[viking-raider]

The Immortal Sky - Part VI *Mature*

Summary: A decision is made for the next step in your and Henry’s journey, and the events that happen afterwards, will have lasting consequences for everyone involved.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 9,773

Chapters: I II III IV V

Warning: Futuristic!AU, Dystopian!AU, Language, Angst, Fluff, Dark themes, blood, torture, kidnapping, interrogation, imprisonment, mentions of past violence and sex

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write something like this.

Author’s Note: Tell me what you think! Thank you to @wondersofdreaming​ for being lovely, being my beta and putting up with my crazy muse! You’re amazing!

Even though you woke up in bed alone, you could hear Henry shuffling and rummaging around the room. But, you didn't open your eyes or move as you listened to him. You didn't want the magic that had culminated between you during the night to vanish, ruined by Henry forcing you to return to London with him, and starting another blow out argument.

That wouldn't end with another round of atomic sex.

When the room was quiet again, you rolled over onto your back as the sound of the toilet flushing filled the room and the sink came on. You sighed, looking out the bright window, the sun starting its slow ascent into the sky.

“You're awake.” Henry's chipper voice said as he came out of the bathroom, fully clothed. “How'd you sleep?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Better than I have in the last several days.” You replied, forcing a smile back at him.

“Same.”

He could see the conflict inside of you amplify so much more, and felt his heart grow sore. The magic was started to evaporate into the air between you.

“I don't want to rush you. But,” He sighed, carding a hand through his curls. “It's a long walk to where we're going, and only so many hours in the day.” He told you, fidgeting and chewing on the corner of his lip.

You hesitated for a moment, sighing heavily, before throwing back the duvet and getting out of bed. “I want to take a shower first, if that's okay with you? It's been a while since I had one.”

“Of course.” Henry nodded, hoping the hot water would help soothe you some.

Nodding, you took your previously discarded clothing and took them into the bathroom, softly closing the bathroom door behind you, just needing a moment of privacy. You put your clothing aside and stared at your fragmented reflection in the mirror, the tired smudges under your eyes and the just plain tired and melancholy shine to your eyes. Letting out a hard breath, you started the shower, and even though the water was still cold and heating up, you stepped underneath the icy spray, shivering once before just standing there and letting it wash over you.

Your body was so sore and worn out from walking and the ongoing situation, but you could also feel the throb between your legs from having sex with Henry; it wasn't entirely uncomfortable or painful, but it was unmistakably and noticeably there, none-the-less. The water finally heated up and you washed yourself the best you could with the meager options to do so.

“Yeah?” You called out, at Henry's soft knock.

Henry opened the bathroom door. “This is the only towel the room has.” He said, holding up the towel he had dried himself with the night before.

“Oh, thanks.” You smiled at him, turning off the shower and stepped out, taking the towel from him.

“Of course.” He smiled back at you, then actually dared to kiss you on the cheek, before going out again.

You felt a flutter of butterflies swarm your stomach at the warm touch of his soft lips on your damp cheek; it felt nice. Drying off and getting dressed, you joined Henry back in the room and found him opening his backpack, removing your shoes from inside. Smiling, he held them out for you to take, which you did, your fingers brushing as you did. The air between you and Henry was starting to get thick again, you could feel the anxiety inside of you start to grow, wanting to bolt and run for Bristol; Henry be damned. Henry was also on edge, trying to fight the feeling to grab you and throw you over his shoulder, marching you both back to London, to end this rising disaster.

But, both of you fought it.

Henry opened the room door for you and you stepped out into the hall, before going down the stairs and returning the room key to the front desk, a woman was running it this morning, the previous front desk clerk nowhere to be seen. Both of you paused at the hotel entrance, taking a deep breath and exiting into the cool morning air.

“Let me see.” Henry said, pulling out his mobile and bringing up the Runner map. “There's a supply store right over there.” He pointed across the street to a store front, the front window boarded up with plywood. “See if we can scrap up some breakfast.” He suggested, throwing you an encouraging smile.

“Okay.” You nodded, but didn't smile back.

Crossing the street and opening the supply store door, a soft chime of a bell as you did, the supplier appeared from the back, giving you and Henry a look, but didn't say anything to either of you. You roamed around the makeshift shelves lining the space, while Henry found where they stored the food and grabbed a couple of things, for breakfast and the trek. Going back outside, you and Henry found a relatively intact park bench and sat down, splitting a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water for breakfast.

Sighing, when the food was gone, you got up and turned towards London and started that way. Henry stared at you for a moment, still seated on the bench. His lips slightly parted as he watched you start in the direction of the capital city, he was thoroughly surprised by your decision to return to London with him, without him making you, or doing his best to convince you into it. It made his heart both skip a beat, that you had chosen him, but also stop, because you had chosen him over your brother.

Frowning, Henry stood up, he had already made his choice, a long time ago. So, he caught up with you as you continued to walk down the cracked and uneven sidewalk, grabbing the back of your elbow and pulling you to a stop. You turned to look up at him, your face was angry, but your bottom trembled with held back tears. Sighing softly, Henry folded you up into his arms and hugged you against him, letting you cry yourself out into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered softly, stroking your hair. “But,” He cleared his throat. “You're heading in the wrong direction.”

“I know which way I'm going, Cavill.” You replied, sniffling up at him.

“I know you know where you're going, love. But, you're not going in the direction you want to go in.” He clarified, pressing his lips to your warm forehead.

“I picked you. Mikey knows the bullshit he got himself into.” You huffed, frustrated you were even talking about it. “Made bed and lie in it, all that jazz.” You told him, rubbing at your eyes.

Henry smiled down at you, tipping your head back a little bit more and kissed you soundly on the lips, before putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you towards Bristol. “We are going this way, Nugget.”

“Henry.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“Neither of us will be able to live with the choice of just going back to London.” He replied, softly. “You won't be able to live knowing you could have prevented your brother's potential death, and I wouldn't be able to live with knowing you chose me and possibly resenting me for it, and I can't stand the thought of him getting hurt.” He explained to you.

“Stupid as he might be for becoming a Runner, in the first place.” He added, with a roll of his eyes.

“You're really going to go to Bristol with me, to get my dumbass brother?” You asked, turning back to him, and lifting a skeptical brow; sure he was just testing you.

“Yes.” He nodded, giving you a serious face.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” He retorted, lifting his own brow. “I told you, why.”

“I don't believe it.” You replied, folding your arms.

Henry narrowed his eyes at you. “You just want to hear me say, I love you.” He chuckled, seeing straight through you.

“I did.” You grinned at him.

“You silly girl.” He sighed, smirking. “Come on, we only have so much time to reach the next safe place.” He said, kissing you again, took your hand, and started walking towards Warmley.

“And, I love you.”

It had taken a while, and many things had come to light, but you and Henry finally made it to Bristol.

“So, how do we find him, now that we're here?” Henry asked, resting his hand on the small of your back protectively, as you both stood to the side of the bustling street.

“I have no clue.” You sighed, for the first time, you were starting to feel discouraged. “What do you suggest, High Marshal?” You asked, looking up at him with half a smug smile and half pleading with him.

Henry took a deep breath in as he looked around, biting his lip. He had been thinking about how you both were supposed to find your brother once you arrived, ever since he decided he would go with you to Bristol in search of him. You couldn't just start asking anyone and everyone, it would invite more attention than Henry wanted to attract, especially with people out looking to harm you.

“I might know someone.” He sighed again, rubbing the side of his tired face.

“Who?” You asked, blinking at him.

“Someone I went to school with.” He explained, taking your hand and leading you through the crowd. “He was once a Beta Marshal, until he was found to be letting Runners through his Sector, for a portion of their profits. He probably would have just been fined for it, if he hadn't attempted blackmailing an Alpha Cleric that was presiding over his case. So, he was stripped of his offices and banished to Bristol.”

“I'm just not sure if he's still here, or if he's even still alive, for that matter.” He told you, side eyeing a guy that tried to nudge him in the ribs. “It's been nearly three years.”

“Well, how are we going to find him?” You asked, pressing closer to him.

“Most people that held a high office that have been banished to Bristol hide in the lowest Sector, to try and avoid others they might have sent here themselves.”

“And you know all of this, how?”

“I'm a High Marshal, it's my job to know these things.” He replied, gripping your hand even tighter as the crowd thickened.

You thread your way through the Sectors, until you reach the unguarded and trashed gate of Sector Fifteen. Bristol had a trashy vibe to it as you walked its crowded streets, but the almost empty streets of Sector Fifteen were, by far, worse. The dark, dank and foul smelling air hung heavily in a haze, that made your eyes water and the back of your nose sting. You could feel Henry's body tense beside you, going into full protective mode, on high alert for anything out of the ordinary, for any possible and would be threat to either of you.

“Who is this guy?” You whispered to him, too frightened to speak any louder.

“Ramsey Kellan.” Henry replied, his jaw tight.

“Lost?” A raspy voice asked from behind them.

“No.” Henry growled back, turning towards the voice. “Looking for an acquaintance.”

“Oh, and who might that be?” A sleazy and rail thin man replied, looking you and Henry over.

“Ramsey Kellan.”

“What do you want with Remy?”

“That's between him and I.” Henry hissed, glaring darkly at the other male.

“I'll tell ya where to find him.” He answered, his eyes shifting over to you. “For a price.” He chuckled, showing a mouthful of black and missing teeth as he grinned at you.

“Or I could just beat it out of you.” Henry barked at him, his hand practically crushing yours.

“Hey, no need for violence, man.” The guy huffed, looking disappointed. “He lives over there.” He pointed down the street to a dingy building, over half the windows were missing from it. “Third floor.”

You expected Henry to turn and start that direction, but he didn't move, staring after the guy as he walked away. Only when he vanished from view, did Henry turn on a dime and started inside. You climbed the three flights of stairs to Ramsey Kellan's floor, looking at the name on each of the flat doors until you finally came up to the scuffed door with 'Kellan - 309' on it in black, block letters.

“Stand right there.” Henry told you, pointing to a spot beside the door. “Don't say anything or make a peep.”

“Why?” You asked, narrowing your eyes up at him.

“Because I asked you too.” He replied, heaving a sigh and looking at you, the pinnacle of his exhaustion showing through his blue eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed back and did as he asked.

Taking one more deep breath, Henry lifted his fist and knocked on Kellan's door. It took a moment before the door jerked open and a thin male appeared. He looked at Henry for a moment, his expression angry, before it widened with shock and horror.

“Cavill?”

“Kellan.” Henry replied, looking the former Beta Marshal over.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ramsey asked, blinking at his former colleague.

“Looking for you.” Henry answered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Don't tell me the straight laced Henry Cavill has fallen from grace?” Ramsey laughed, thoroughly amused at the thought of it.

“Not exactly.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I need your help finding someone here in Bristol.”

Ramsey's look hardened some and he shifted uneasily. “Who?”

“A Runner for Jaxon Quinn, Michail Keagan.”

Ramsey gulped thickly, his eyes shifting around, unable to meet Henry's stern glare. “I can't help you, Henry.” He mumbled and started to close his door.

Henry's hand shot out, preventing Ramsey from closing his door. “I know that's a load of shit. You've had the low down on every Runner there is, and I know you still do. So, you're going to tell me where to find him.”

“And what do I get out of it?” Ramsey hissed back. “Last time, I lost my job and my livelihood. This time around, I’d lose my life. So, what can you give me, Cavill, in exchange for the information.”

“Maybe, I tell the Marshal Council you helped me bring down one of the top Crime Bosses England has. Perhaps with a word like that, from a High Marshal with ties to the Cleric and Royal Councils, it could get you back into London.” Henry told him, keeping his voice low, but stern.

“You think you could do that?” Ramsey asked, sounding desperate and surprised.

“Only if you tell me what I want to know.” Henry told him, narrowing his eyes. “And if you lie to me, I'll make sure Crime Bosses and Bristol are your last worry.” He added, the dangerous threat dripping from his voice.

You heard the gulp and whimper that came out of Ramsey, you saw the sheer look of evil on Henry's face as he said it, and had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide your giggle, biting your lips. You were terrified and surprised by the pure authority Henry had pulsing off of him, even more so than usual, but part of you was also turned on by it.

“Come in, I don't want the neighbors to hear this.” Ramsey said, opening the door again.

Henry turned his head, looking at you, then motioned to the open door. Nodding at him, you pushed off the wall and stepped in front of him, giving Ramsey a tight smile as he blinked at you, surprised.

“Who the hell is this?” He snapped, looking over your head to Henry.

“None of your business, so move.” He barked back, pushing Ramsey out of the way.

You shyly smiled at Ramsey as you slipped by him, after Henry, who breezed into Ramsey's flat, looking around it with unmasked disgust. He turned in the middle of Ramsey's living room, tightly folding his arms against his chest, glowering at the former Beta Marshal, with screaming High Marshal authority. You felt sheepish as Ramsey closed his flat door and turned towards Henry, standing between them, in what could easily be no man's land.

“What do you want, High Marshal Cavill?” Ramsey asked, with smug mockery.

“I want you to tell me where I can find Michail Keagan.” Henry replied, the crease between his brows deepening. “He's an Adjutant Runner for Jaxon Quinn, here in Bristol.”

“You can't just waltz into a city like Bristol, and start demanding people tell you where top Runners are at, Cavill.”

“That's why I came to you, Kellan. You're already doing the waltz, so tell me where he is.”

“And if I don't?” Ramsey asked, narrowing eyes at Henry and rolling his shoulders.

Henry's arms dropped to his sides and he took three giant steps towards him, suddenly reaching out and nabbing Ramsey by the shirt, then slamming him against the nearest wall. Ramsey grunted, all the air left lungs as his back connected to the concrete wall. He was dazed for a second, black and flashing spots in his blood shot eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them away, and trying to focus on the rage he felt coming off of Henry.

“I'll beat your face in.” Henry hissed, his teeth gritted and blue eyes smoldering.

Your mouth dropped open, blinking at the rage Henry was exuding as he pinned Ramsey to the wall. It was no wonder that the blue of a flame burned the hottest. But, you were worried that Henry might actually harm Ramsey, and as much as you wanted to find your brother, you didn't want anyone getting hurt for it.

“All right, all right!” Ramsey squeaked and slumped against the wall, practically shrinking before Henry. “I'll find him for ya.” He gulped, frightened and shaking.

“Good.” Henry replied, his voice low, and moved away from him, still tense.

Chewing on his lip for a moment, before slowly sliding along the wall towards his coffee table, where his laptop was sitting, Ramsey flipped it open and sat down on the couch, he typed quickly, his fingertips clacking on the black keys as he squinted at the screen. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure everyone in the building could hear it, while you watched him work. Henry stood in place, eyes burning into Ramsey, like it would make him work faster, as seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours.

“It looks like this Runner is living in Sector Three, while he's being trained to be an Adjutant Runner.” Ramsey finally said, rubbing at his face. “With his handler, Knox Monroe. Who is a very hardcore Runner. I really wouldn't go messing about with him.”

“Why?” You dared to ask, eyes darting to Henry.

“Knox has brought in more revenue than any Runner, for the last five years running.” Ramsey replied, looking up from his laptop screen. “He was caught, once, and the Hernandez family bailed him out.” He looked up at Henry. “You know how serious they have to be about him, if they're willing to keep him in such an elevated state, instead of tossing him out of Bristol on his ass.”

“I do.” Henry nodded, his expression and body language never changed, but there was a small twinge in his stomach. “Where in Sector Three are they at?” He asked, without hesitation.

“Are you--” He started to protest, but stopped, seeing Henry's face, and took a deep breath. “Sector Three, block twelve, there's a pub there, the Black Bone. Knox frequents it often enough and I'm sure, with how close a handler is to their Runner, he'll bring this Keagan with him. All you have to do is use your special High Marshal skills and stake the place out, until they show up.”

Henry shrugged his shoulders and rolled his neck, processing all the information that Ramsey had given the two of you. “I hope you're not lying, Ramsey.” He sighed, settling a tired eye on him.

“I'm not, Henry.” Ramsey sighed, rolling his eyes at him. “Especially, if you can get me out of this hell hole.”

“We'll see.” Henry huffed at him, turning back towards the door. “Come on.” He said to you, opening the door and letting you step out into the hall first.

The man you and Henry encountered walked around the corner of a building, moving out of your sight, but peeked around the corner, watching you and Henry enter the apartment building he directed you too. Narrowing his eyes at the building, he quickly turned away and hurriedly walked through the streets of Sector Fifteen. Rudely bumping into people to get them out of his way, before he finally reached the nearly pristine gate to Sector Fourteen, flashing his pass ID at the guards and breezed through as they opened the gate for him.

Swinging around a corner and kicking open the door of a bar, he sallied up to the bar, slapping his palms to the sticky and worn counter.

“Gideon, where's Aries?” He asked and leaned over the counter, reaching beneath it and grabbed the neck of a bottle that was there. “I need to talk to him.” He added, sitting back and spinning off the cap of the whiskey bottle.

“He's upstairs, where he always is, you dumb-fuck.” Gideon, the bartender, barked back at him, yanking the bottle out of his hand as he started to chug it down. “So, get fucking lost.” He barked, wiping the head of the bottle off with the hem of his shirt and secured the cap back on, storing it in its previous place.

He smiled up in Gideon's face, winked at him, then shoved away from the bar, twirling on his heels towards the back of the bar. Yanking open a hidden door in the wall, stomped his way up the stairs and pounded on the closed door at the top. After several minutes of relentless pounding, the door swung open to a burly male.

“Fuck you want, Atlas.” He hissed at him, his lip curled with distaste.

“I need to see Aries.” The man, Atlas, said, licking his lips and looking back at him. “It's important.”

“Get lost, Atlas.” He huffed and started closing the door.

“Who is it, Danny?” A voice in the room behind him called out.

“It's me, Aries!” Atlas yelled back, grinning smugly at Danny. “I have some information you might want!” He added, pressing through the door.

“Let him in.” Aries sighed, slumping back in his high backed chair. “What is it, Atlas?” He groaned, watching Atlas sashay into the room, picking through the various bottles strewn across the long, black table, until he found one that was reasonably full.

“There was a guy and a chick, in Sector Fifteen.” He said, taking several deep gulps of the clear liquid. “Huge fucker too, and she was a teeny thing. Cute..”

“What's the point, Atlas?” Aries huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don't have all night.”

“Well, it was the girl, you see.” Atlas replied, leaning against the edge of the table. “She looked familiar, and I don't mean, seen her in the whore house, familiar either.”

“I care why?”

“Because, she looked like that girl you got a memo on from the higher ups.” Atlas answered, grinning at Aries with smug confidence.

Aries's hand dropped from his face and looked across at Atlas, studying him. “Danny, hand me that memo tablet.” He said, holding his hand out to him, without taking his eyes off of Atlas.

Danny left the room for a quick moment and returned carrying the black, sleek tablet and carefully rested it in Aries's hand. Aries closed his hand around it and the screen came to life, he messed with it for a few minutes, before sliding it across the table to Atlas.

“Her?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Looks like her.” Atlas nodded, bending over the tablet.

Aries snapped out of his chair and strode across the room, yanking on a jacket. “Where did you see them?”

“Sector Fifteen, they were looking for Kellan.” Atlas explained, twisting around to follow him as he moved around the room.

“Fucking Ramsey.” Aries huffed, angrily. “Get him out.” He barked at Danny and pointed at Atlas as he made for the door.

Aries stormed down the stairs, shoving open the hidden door and scaring the new patrons that had come in after Atlas had gone up. He paid them no mind as he stormed out of the bar and towards Sector Fifteen, hoping to get to Kellan's flat before you and Henry left. But, he knew by the time he did get there, that you both were long gone. He still went up to have a visit with Ramsey though, wanting information.

“Aries!” Ramsey squeaked opening the door and found him there. “How's it going, man? It's been a--”

“Cut the shit, Kellan. Tell me where she is.” Aries hissed, cutting to the chase.

“Who?” Ramsey frowned at him, genuinely confused.

“The girl that was seen here today, with another fellow.” Aries explained to him, his eyes darkening.

Ramsey blinked at Aries a couple of times, his brain struggling to compute what Aries was saying. Who was the girl with Henry? He thought, his chest tightening. He refused to tell him who she was, and he seemed seriously protective of her. She must be someone of importance if Cavill was so protective of her, if Aries was so interested in her.

“I don't know who she is, Aries. Honestly.” He mumbled, running a hand down his face. “She came with a former colleague of mine.”

“And who might that be?”

“Henry Cavill.” Ramsey blurted out, obediently. “He's a High Marshal for the City of London.” He explained to him. “He came to me, with her, looking for a Runner. A Runner called Michail Keagan. He works for Quinn and is being trained by Knox. In Sector Three.”

“There's an active High Marshal in Bristol, looking for a Runner?” Aries asked, looking thunderstruck at the notion.

“Yes, Sir.” Ramsey nodded, gulping and fidgeting in place.

“Hernandez is going to lose his fucking mind.” Aries replied, raking a hand through his hair and turning on his feet. “I have to warn him.” He said to himself, already planning on going straight to Sector One to warn Hernandez about it, and you being in the city.

Within their grasp.

“Mr. Hernandez, Aries Novak to see you.”

Benji Hernandez looked up as he hunched over his desk, arms braced against the dark cherry wood. Rubbing at his tired face, he pushed off the desk and waved his hand for Aries to enter, rounding his desk to drop into his high-back leather chair.

“You can leave, Johnny.” He dismissed his assistant, then motioned to a chair before his desk. “Sit, Aries.”

“Yes, Sir.” Aries nodded, obediently and quickly taking the offered seat. “I have some very important information for you, Mr. Hernandez. I'm sure it'll make your day a sight better.” He rushed out, a bubble of excited and nervousness energy.

“What is it, Mr. Novak?” Benji sighed, lifting a brow at the other man.

“That girl you've been looking for,” Aries grinned, making the Devil look like a sweetheart. “She's here. In Bristol, of all places, and with a London High Marshal!”

Benji blinked at Aries a couple of times. “That little bitch is here, in my city!” He growled, his shoulders tensing.

“Yes, sir. She very much is.” Aries nodded, smiling even more. “One of my men saw her and the High Marshal at a former Beta Marshal's flat not three hours ago, in Sector Fifteen.”

“Where are they now?” Benji hissed, leaning forward, hand reaching for his phone.

“Kellan said, he gave them directions to the Black Bone pub in Sector Three. They're looking for Knox and his new Runner, Keagan.”

“Why are they looking for the two of them?” Benji asked, narrowing his eyes at Aries.

“He doesn't know, neither of them told him the reason behind it, just to tell them where they could be found.” He explained, rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs, being near Benji had always given him the shakes, mostly because he knew what he was capable of.

Benji picked up the black receiver of his phone and pressed it to his ear with his shoulder, punching the glossy numbers with the tip of his index finger. “Ashe, I want you in my office. Now.” He barked into it, then slammed it back down into the cradle. “Aries, get out.” He huffed, jerking his head towards the door as he got up out of his chair and strode across the room to a table of decanters and glasses.

“Do-don't you wa--” Aries started to stammer.

“I don't want anything out of you other than what you've already given me, Mr. Novak.” Benji answered, cutting him off, as he poured himself a drink. “Unless, you're withholding something more?” He asked, turning back to Aries as he brought the full glass to his lips.

“No-no, sir!” Aries yelped, the blood draining from his face.

“Then, get the fuck out.” Benji huffed, rolling his eyes and downing the rest of the strong brown liquid.

Nodding his head, like a broken bobble-head, Aries pulled the door open as a man on the other side raised his hand to knock. The two men gulped and nodded at each other, then traded places.

“Ashe!” Benji called out, sounding a bit happier to see him than he had been to see Aries. “Come in and close the door.”

Ashe gave Aries with a short nod and closed the door on him. “How can I be of help, Mr. Hernandez?” He asked and folded his arms behind his back, giving Benji his full and undivided attention.

“There's someone of great importance in my city and someone else that can cause some other issues with her. I want you to go down to the Black Bone pub in Sector Three. I don't want you to grab them as soon as you see them. Watch them, then when they leave, grab them and bring them back here to hold.”

“Of course.” Ashe nodded. “Who would that be, sir?”

Benji crossed back to his desk and removed a tablet from his drawer, turning it on and flipping through it for a moment, before holding it out to Ashe. “That's her. She was in Twist's warehouse in London, waiting to be sold, when someone came in to look at Twist's collection, picked her out of the line-up and purchased her.” He explained to Ashe. “Not five minutes after purchasing her, Twist's warehouse was raided by the Marshal Council.”

“Come to find out, the guy who purchased her was working for the Council. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be an issue, but being that she was purchased during a Council Raid, she's a witness and can fuck my family's entire operation in London. So, I had a hit put out on her, if she's dead, she can't testify. Which would make the consequences of the trial less disastrous.”

“So, you want me to kill them?” Ashe asked, studying your face on the tablet's screen.

“No, I want you to bring them back here and put them in holding.” Benji replied, leaning back against the edge of his desk. “I want to find out what I can from them. See, if they know anything about the trial Twist and his men are being sent too. We might be able to cut out a few more people from the jury and not take such a massive hit to our operations.”

Ashe nodded and handed the tablet back to his boss. “I'll get on it right away, Sir.”

“Good.” Benji smiled, pleased.

“Eat.” Henry said, setting a plate of food in front of you.

“Why?” You frowned at him.

“Because, you look suspicious and it's hard to look suspicious when you're eating something.” He told you, handing you a fork and knife. “We don't need any attention to be drawn to us, while we wait for Knox and your brother to show up. So, eat your food and leave the room watching to me.”

“You're the boss.” You chuckled, nudging his knee with yours.

You and Henry had entered the Black Bone pub twenty minutes before, ordering food and drinks, while Henry put his vast experience of surveillance and undercover work to use, taking regular bites of food and sips of water as he pretended to stare at the flickering tv screen mounted above the bar top, showing some sporting event that took place in Bristol. While his actual attention, from his peripheral vision, was on the single entrance and exit the pub had. No one had come in or gone out since the pair of you entered the half packed establishment. You had already done a quick sweep of the patrons that dotted the place, none of them were your brother or looked like the picture of Knox that Ramsey had shown you just before you left his flat, in Sector Fifteen.

“There's enough grease in this to oil a car.” You commented, pushing the food on your plate around with your fork.

Henry's face broke out into a massive grin, his shoulders shaking as he laughed at your comment. “We already know you purr like an engine.” He teased back, making reference to the sound you had made the night before, as he pleasured you.

“Oh, dear god.” You giggled, your face hot with embarrassment. “Henry.” You grinned at him, shyly.

“It's the truth, and you know it, Nugget.” He chuckled back at you, his shoulder gently brushing yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“You wag that tail, like you're a Puppy.” You teased him back, rolling your eyes at him.

Henry had opened his mouth to make a comment to that, when the bell above the door rang and the door opened. His mouth snapped shut and his body language changed from that playful relaxation, to suspicious and high alert tension. His blue eyes darted to the new patron as they stepped into the pub, a male, about Henry's own height, but slimmer, though by no means less built. There was an air about him, that Henry felt on the other side of the room, a professional air, but that could be a by-product of the life he lived before being marooned in Bristol. But, Henry wasn't completely sure of that, and cast his eyes back to the tv, as the man scanned the room.

“Don't look over there.” Henry hissed as you started to turn your head towards the door.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and took another sip of your water. “But, you don't like him.” You pointed out, feeling how rock hard the muscles of his side were against yours.

“I don't let anyone in here.” Henry replied, forcefully relaxing himself. “Other than you.” He added, the corner of his lip twitching up into a soft smile.

“Well, as long as that's true.” You chuckled, resting your hand on his thigh.

Henry rested his hand on top of yours and gave you a sweet smile, squeezing it gently. “Since I met you.” He whispered, softly.

“Aw.” You cooed at him, turning your hand into his.

Squeezing your hand again, Henry turned his eyes back to the tv, watching the new patron move from the door to the bar, motioning to the bartender and ordering something to drink. The longer the man was there, the colder the feeling running up and down Henry's spine got, making him shiver with worsening paranoia.

“Are you done with your food?” He asked, looking at your plate.

“Yeah, I'm done.” You nodded, pushing it away from you.

“All right, we're going.” He said, standing up.

“But,” You started to protest, but the look on Henry's face said it all.

Nodding, you got up and followed him out of the pub, trying to keep up with his long strides as he hurried down the street, before taking a sharp turn into an alleyway. You frowned at him as he stopped at a brick wall.

“Come here.” He motioned you closer with his fingers. “Take this.” He pulled a plastic room key out of his back pocket and slipped it into your front pocket.

You frowned up at him, shaking your head. “What are you doing?” You asked, getting an anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Meet me back at our room.” He told you, lacing his fingers together. “If I'm not back in an hour, do not come looking for me. Stay in the room, don't answer the door, unless you are sure it's me.” He instructed you, quickly.

“Henry?”

“Give me your foot.” He rushed you.

“Henry?”

“We don't have time, so give me your foot.” He barked at you, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his temper.

Gulping, you placed your foot into his cupped hands and he boosted you up, to straddle the top of the brick wall. “Henry?” You panted, your anxiety turning into panic, realizing he wasn't going to follow after you.

“You'll be fine, just do what I told you to do.” He answered, taking a calming breath and squeezing your ankle, trying to reassure and calm you, as he looked back to the entrance of the alleyway and saw the guy from the pub appear.

“Go now, I'll be right behind you.”

“And if you're not?” You gulped, hands shaking.

“I will be. Now, go.” He told you. “I love you.” He whispered, softly.

You glanced up at the approaching man as he started towards you and didn't look all that happy. “I love you too.” You whimpered back, then disappeared on the other side of the wall.

“Good girl.” Henry sighed to himself, turning to face the guy, his quick footsteps echoing off the brick and metal surrounding the alleyway as he rushed Henry.

Henry had enough time to tense up his body, before Ashe bull rushed him, sending them both into the brick wall Henry had just sent you over. Grunting as his back connected to the bricks, knocking some of the air out of his lungs, Henry slid his body to the left as Ashe's fist came out and breezed by his head, crashing knuckles first into the grimy bricks behind him. Ashe howled and growled, drawing back his scrapped and throbbing hand, ugly black and purple bruises already forming on the swollen and bloody digits. Taking his distraction, Henry jabbed his own fist hard into Ashe's unprotected side, feeling his ribs crack under the force of his blow, and making Ashe double over, then drove his knee into Ashe's gut.

“I do mean to ruin your day.” Henry laughed, grabbing a handful of Ashe's blond hair and forcing his head back. “But, you're not going to get your filthy hands on her.”

“I'm afraid to disappoint you, but we will get that wee bitch.” Ashe panted, hand reaching into his back pocket and yanked something out of it, pressed it to the side of Henry's thick thigh and pressed a button on the side.

Henry's entire body became rigid and trembled, his eyes losing focus and twitching as several hundred volts of electricity coursed through him. Clicking the stun stick off and watching Henry slump against the wall and slide to the ground, Ashe stood up, flipping the stick in his hand, then pocketing it again, before removing his mobile from his front pocket.

“Hey, Sully. It's Ashe.” He chuckled, squatting down in front of an incapacitated Henry. “I didn't get the girl, but I did get the High Marshal, and I'm sure after a 'talking to' he'll fork over where to find her.” He explained to his handler, giving Henry a gloating pat on the cheek.

“I know he's not ideal, but he's a fucking High Marshal, think of the shit he knows, other than where the girl is? Benji won't be that pissed off about it, we'll get her once we've talked the good Marshal into telling us.” He laughed, poking Henry in the chest.

“Sweet! Send the boys over. He's a beast.”

A few minutes later, a group of guys arrived in the alleyway with Henry and Ashe, flanking Henry, who was still out for the count, and hauled him out of the alleyway and into a van, before speeding out of the Sector, back to Sector Three, where Benji and his team waited to interrogate him on where you were now hiding.

Your lungs were burning, by the time you ran back to the room you and Henry had rented in the Sector when you arrived. You hoped with all you had that Henry would be there waiting for you to open the door with some witty remark on how long it took you to get back, with your nugget sized legs. But, he wasn't and your already throbbing heart felt like it had been sent through a paper shredder. You let yourself into the room, locking it behind you and paced the room, a million worst and best case scenarios running through your head on why he wasn't back yet.

“Come on, Henry.” You gasped, chewing your lip to bits and wringing your hands. “Please, knock on the door.” You begged, staring at the room door. “Please, please, please.” You whimpered.

But, the knock never came. Not an hour later, or even three hours later.

You considered going back out to look for him and half opened the door to do so, before shaking your head and closing it again, knowing Henry would be pissed if he found you weren't there when he got back, or if you ran into each other on the street. So, you stayed locked in the room, restlessly pacing or staring out the window, hoping to see him approaching the building from the sidewalk five stories below.

“He's fine.” You mumbled to yourself, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He's just toying with me. He's just standing in the hall, waiting for me to bolt out of the room, so he has something to tease me about. Claim I'm not good at listening.” You tried convincing yourself, hugging his shirt to your chest.

“The jerk, he can wait out there all night, for what I care!” You yelled, hoping he heard you.

A stinging slap rang out in the air and Henry's scruffy cheek burned, like it had been singed by molten lava. Henry grunted as another burning slap connected with his other cheek, snapping his head painfully to the side.

“Wakey Wakey, Mr. Cavill.” An overly jolly voice cooed inches from his face. “Nap time is over.” The jolly voice turned sinister. “I think our sleeping beauty needs a little more help walking up, Emilio.”

“Doable, Boss.” A deep voice laughed.

Henry's eyes flew open and doubled over with a weak gasp as an iron blow struck the center of his chest, and the audible creaking of his ribs. He whimpered and moaned, a thick string of drool dripped from his lips. He leaned forward in the metal chair he was tied to, his arms bound by the wrists around the back of the chair and his ankles tied to the front legs, that like the back legs, were heavily bolted to the cement floor.

“Good morning, Henry.” Benji smiled at him.

“Ho-how--” He panted, trying to get air back into his screaming lungs. “How do you kn-now my n-name?” He gulped the thick saliva in his mouth down, his throat sore.

“I know to you, Mr. Cavill, Bristol is just a back water, shit-hole. But, we do have a great deal of the same technology you Londoners do. So, fingerprint identification isn't a foreign concept to us.” Benji sighed, shaking his head as he walked around Henry.

“Where am I?” Henry gasped, sitting back and flexing his arms, testing the strength of his bonds, only to get a stiff punch to the face.

“Easy, Emilio.” Benji called, patting Emilio on the shoulder. “We don't want to tire Mr. Cavill, before he can be so nice as to answer our questions.”

“I'm not telling you shit, Hernandez.” He growled, jerking his body in agitation.

“Oh, how intuitive of you to deduce who I am.” Benji laughed, stopping in front of Henry. “You must be a top notch High Marshal in London.” He smirked, taking a seat in a chair several feet in front of Henry. “Well, I know you are, I've read your files and your work history. You have quite the prowess for undercover work, used to be SWAT as well, before transferring to Homicide.” He said, reaching back for the tablet one of his men was holding, taking it from him.

“What was it that you transferred, Mr. Cavill?” He asked, scrolling through files that should have been private and sealed.

“Get fucked.” Henry barked at him, his broad shoulders straining.

Benji chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Says here, while on a raid in London's Sector Thirty, there was a shoot out in a warehouse and you were injured, almost died as a result.” He rested the tablet on the thigh of his crossed leg.

“I'm not telling you where she is.” Henry said softly, staring Benji straight in the eyes. “So, you can save your breath.”

“Oh, it's not my breath you'd want to save, Henry.” Benji said, lowering his voice and resting forward. “It's yours.” He grinned, his brown eyes lighting up. “I wonder, if that wound still gives you trouble?” He inquired, drumming his fingertips on the back of the tablet.

Henry didn't say anything or move, just stared Benji in the eye, his lips sealed. The Crime Boss could do whatever he liked to him, he wasn't going to tell him where you were, even if it ended up killing him. No matter how much pain they caused him for it. Henry would protect you with his body and his life.

“Do what you will.” He told Benji, resolved and at peace.

Benji's eyes darkened, realizing that he wasn't going to be able to 'sweet talk' or coax Henry into volunteering the information about your whereabouts. He knew it wasn't going to work, but had given it a shot anyway, hoping Henry would be intelligent and want to save his own life and a good amount of pain.

“All well.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders at Henry. “Where was that wound?” He hummed, turning back to the tablet. “Abdomen, left side. Through and through—oh! It took out one of your kidneys! Well, it's a good damn thing you're a High Marshal with a father in the Cleric Council and a mother in the Royal Council! All that money, power and influence, so you could get the best organ transplant care.” He said, shaking his head and enlarging a photo taken of Henry, not long after he had surgery to treat his injuries.

“What was it?” He asked, looking up at Henry. “Organ donor? Organ regrowth or an Organ replacement?”

“What's the difference?” One of Benji's men blurted out, without meaning too.

“Well, you see.” Benji laughed, in an uncommonly good mood. “An Organ donor is when some nice and caring person donates their kidney to the recipient. Organ regrowth is when a large team of doctors and scientists grow a new kidney for the person that needs it, and organ replacement, is a device, made out of hardware and biological software to look and function like the required organ or body part. Think of it as the kidney equivalent to a prosthetic leg.”

“All of which are insanely expensive.” He added, then looked back at Henry. “So?”

“You obviously have access to all my medical reports, so why bother.” Henry hissed at him, unamused.

“Because, I want to have a conversation with you, Mr. Cavill. So, satisfy my curiosity.”

Henry licked his lips, his upper lip twitching as his anger slowly built in the pit of his stomach. “Replacement.” He growled out, his hands squeezing into fists, cutting off most of their circulation.

“So, a special, bionic kidney for the special High Marshal.” Benji sat up straighter, his eyes and face bright with wonder and interest. “I want to see it!”

“Sir?” Ashe gasped, head snapping towards Benji.

“I don't mean cut him open, you idiot!” Benji barked, the sparkle of his face dimming with his flare of annoyance. “The scar, you brain-dead buffoon.” He yelled, throwing the tablet at Ashe. “Cut his shirt off!” He snapped at Emilio.

Grinning, Emilio grabbed a box cutter off a metal table covered with various items and approached Henry. Sliding up the razor-blade, Emilio grabbed the bottom hem of Henry's grey short sleeve t-shirt and slid the paper thin blade up, cutting through the thin fabric. Henry winced, hissing and bared his teeth as the tip of the blade nicked the skin of his sternum, a thick bead of bright red blood dripped down his chest, disappearing into the patch of hair of his belly; the elastic band of his boxer briefs soaking it up.

Emilio tore away the rest of Henry's shirt and discarded it, as Benji stood and closed the gap between them, seeing the neat and thin scar above his left hip, a slightly puckered dot of scar tissue in the center of it, where the bullet entered. Pressing his lips together, Benji rounded Henry's chair and made him sit forward, straining his arms and saw the thick scar on his back, from the surgery to remove his damaged kidney and replace it with the engineered one.

“Fascinating.” He cooed, touching his cool fingertips to the burning hot skin of Henry's back. “I wonder?” He hummed, then promptly sucker punched Henry in the back, landing it squarely on the scar.

Henry howled in agony, arching his back away from Benji, the cut on his chest bleeding more as the skin of his sternum stretched. His breathing was ragged as Emilio jabbed his fist into Henry's stomach, almost choking on the air stuck in his throat, eyes watering furiously.

“So, it does hurt.” Benji laughed, pressing his fingers into the forming bruise and moved back around to see his anguished face.

“Let me punch you in the fucking kidney, and tell me how it feels, you piece of shit.” Henry barked, spitting at him.

Emilio clocked Henry across the face, opening a gash on his cheekbone and snapping his head sideways, making his neck ache and throb. “Spit at him again, and I'll cut your fucking tongue out.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Henry's sweat soaked curls and yanked his head back, making his scalp burn.

“Where is she, Henry?” Benji asked, pulling out a handkerchief and wiped the wad of spit off the tip of his shoe, before tossing the square piece of fabric into the bin. “This will go so much easier, if you just tell us where she is.”

“I'm not going to tell you, so you can do whatever you want with me.” Henry wheezed, glaring up at Benji. “Torture me. Kill me. I don't care. I'll never tell you anything.”

“Are you sure you want to play this game, Henry?” Benji asked, stroking his jaw as he regarded him.

Henry's body went slack and slumped in the chair, mentally centering himself for the pain and chaos that was no doubt about to rain down upon him. All so he could keep you protected, and god he hoped you were. Henry prayed that you had listened to him and went back to the hotel room, baring yourself inside until, and if, he was able to get back to you. He feared that Ashe had more people with him that saw you go over that wall and followed after you, tracking you back to the room, if you even made it that far, and were somewhere in the building he was clearly in, being tortured as well. His Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed down that overwhelming fear. He couldn't let that negativity breed inside of him or it would tear him down and he would lose to Benji and his torture even faster.

“I'm not telling you, where she is, or even where she might be.” He replied, finally. “For all I know, she's nowhere I'm aware of. She's an extremely self-willed girl, and doesn't listen. So, even if I were to tell you where I think she is. She couldn't be. She could be anywhere at this point.” He told him, almost smugly.

“Bristol is a big place.” He added, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Emilio got a running start and the punch he landed square to the center of Henry's face, busting his nose and blackening his eye. Henry coughed and spit a mouthful of blood to the floor, his chin resting against his bare and bloody chest.

“Why are you and she in Bristol?” Benji asked, lifting a brow at him.

“To fuck your mother.” Henry replied, spitting blood at him, but came up short.

Picking up a long object from the table, Emilio swung it into Henry's stomach, and if the chair hadn't been bolted to the floor, it and Henry would have been sent flying backwards with the force. Henry wavered forward, slack and groaning in pain, shaking his throbbing head to try and clear it.

“I'll ask you again, why are you here?”

“Again, to fuck your mother.” Henry rasped, clearing his throat and licking his lips, tasting the cooper of his own blood.

Benji looked up at Emilio and nodded.

Grinning, Emilio dropped the pipe on the table with a clatter and retrieved his box cutter, his preferred method of extracting information from difficult people. The smallest shutter went down Henry's spine as he approached him, pressing the sharp tip to his jean-clad thigh. Henry growled deep in his throat, gritting his teeth and flexing his arms as Emilio slowly pushed it into his leg; breathing heavily and teeth tearing into his bottom lip, blood dripping down his chin.

“We can do this for a very long time, Mr. Cavill.” Benji said, crossing one leg over the other and tilting his head as he watched the blade of the box cutter disappear into Henry's meaty thigh. “Even after we find her. But, I find it curious that a High Marshal would go to such lengths to protect a Slave he bought, even if it was part of a sting operation.”

Henry blinked at Benji, the searing pain of the blade cutting through skin and muscle momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, yes. I know it was you that bought her from Twist. That you were the one that was undercover at the warehouse. It's all in the paperwork.” He explained, motioning to the shattered tablet laying on the ground. “The report your superior typed up after the fact, your own reports while undercover and afterwards. A high bred, high standing Londoner, with a life and connections anyone and everyone would die for, protecting some Slummer that was just part of the job.”

“Why are you protecting her?”

“Like you said,” Henry answered through clenched teeth. “It's my job. I'm supposed to protect her until she testifies.”

“Nothing more?” Benji poked.

“Nothing.” Henry seethed, his dull fingernails cutting into the skin of his palms.

He wasn't going to show or give away that he loved you, that would only cause more issues and add to the endless list of things Benji and his men could use against him, to torture and torment him into give you up. No, he buried those emotions and thoughts so deep inside of himself, it was as if they never existed to start with, building an iron-clad fortress around them and you.

“She means nothing to me, other than getting her to testify against you, then send her back to the hell hole she was born to and I can get my life back.”

“Well, if you tell me where she is, I can let you go.” Benji replied, regarding Henry. “I'll even have one of the boys drive you back to London, safe and sound, and you can go back to your job as a High Marshal.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Henry laughed at him. “My job is to stop you, and you'd let me freely continue to do so?”

“Yes.” He nodded, pressing his lips together. “All the Councils of London have been hindering my family's business for decades, and we're still sitting fat, happy and rich here in Bristol. So, one little High Marshal, like yourself, won't even be a thorn in my side. What do you say, Henry? Give us the girl and we'll have you home by morning?”

Henry leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with him. “No.” He said, softly, but with clear malice.

[hurricanery]

hurricane

A/N: shoutout to everyone that sent me song recs I'm feeling hella inspired and I’m gonna keep them in my inbox to come back to for future one shots! <3 credit to the anon that sent me this song...i wrote this so fast in my head and now it’s here! This is pretty amelia-centric but there’s a hint of amelink in here too, so hope u enjoy!

TW: implied drug use

also this is for @wordsxstars bc chloe ur my angst buddy forever !!

_______

I’m the violence in the pouring rain

I’m a hurricane

Come and fade me

Come and fade me

I’m a hurricane

_______

It rained the day she was born. Like really rained. It was the kind of torrential downpour that turned the whole sky a threateningly dark mix of indigo and grey.

Her Mother hadn’t planned for it. Hadn’t considered the impact that the weather would play on her child’s entrance into the world.

And she’d felt a lighthearted resentment towards this child, for deciding to push her way out at such an inconvenient time.

Because they’d sat in traffic.

Full of panic.

In the middle of a city-wide weather emergency.

“Leave it to baby number five,” her Mother had breathed through a contraction, hands gripping tightly to the cushions of the passenger seat. “To be born….during….a hurricane.”

“This hasn’t been classified as a hurricane yet, Carolyn-”

The glare she’d given her husband was enough to shut him up as she exhaled through the pressure of her contractions.

And she’d gripped the edges of the seat even tighter.

//

The same way Amelia does now, 18 years later.

Her fingers grip the edges of the seat, and her fingernails scratch over the fabric lightly, as she stares out the passenger side window.

It’s raining out. Not a downpour or anything. But steadily enough to trigger that feeling. That feeling that’s uncertain and nostalgic at the same time. Two practically opposite notions that crash together like the thunder that’s threatening the sky.

She hears Derek clear his throat, and her gaze snaps to his just in time.

Just in time for her to witness her brother’s eyes dart from her tightly-wound fingers to the road ahead as he drives.

She quickly moves her hands, on instinct. Burying them in her lap instead. There’s an overly-positive inflection to her brother’s tone as he speaks out into the space between them.

“I was nervous, too,” he laughs a bit under his breath, like he’s recalling a specific memory. “When I went away to school.”

“I’m not nervous.”

Disbelief flashes quickly across his face, but then he replaces it with something more soft. Like he’s deciding to give his younger sister the benefit of the doubt. Like he’s actually letting her have this one.

“Well, then….I’m impressed.”

Amelia rolls her eyes. And then she shivers involuntarily.

There’s something about being in an air-conditioned car, protected from the heat of the storm outside. It causes chills to rise through her body, despite it being the end of August. She turns in her seat, reaching towards the back of the car, to where all of her belongings are packed. Pulling out a crocheted blanket, she twists forward in her seat again and covers her bare legs with it.

She stares at the road ahead, finding patterns in the wet pavement, before she tentatively opens the conversation back up.

“Was Mom with you?” She utters the question, and she doesn’t let herself look in Derek’s direction. “Was Mom there to drop you off at college?”

It’s not until after she voices the question, that she realizes. Realizes that’s the thing that’s potentially been bothering her.

Derek sighs. And his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

“She was.”

Amelia nods.

This answer doesn’t surprise her. And it doesn’t hurt either. It’s mostly just numb acceptance at this point.

She finally turns to him, and she almost doesn’t recognize herself in her next question.

“It’s because I look like him, right?”

It’s the first time she’s comprehended it out loud. The weight of it hits her like a ton of bricks. The fact that it all comes back to that.

“Who?”

Amelia gives him an incredulous stare, her mouth forming in a tight line. It amplifies her refusal to feed into Derek’s decided lack of wit.

Because he knows what she’s asking.

And Derek knows that Amelia knows that.

Amelia refuses to blink. She lets her eyes become unfocused as she stubbornly holds her gaze.

Until Derek eventually nods, giving up.

“Amelia….” He sighs. “You look like me.” He turns briefly in her direction, like he’s hoping her stare will have faltered slightly at his explanation so far. But it hasn’t. She’s relentless sometimes.

He exhales a bit shakily before he continues, eyes shifting back to the road.

“You look like me….and you look like Dad, too.”

Amelia finally lets herself blink at that. Relief floods her dry eyes and her mind, too.

She turns back to the window, focusing instead on the world around them. Her eyes land on two particular raindrops against the window. And she smiles slightly as she watches them drop down towards the ledge. Like it’s a race to see which raindrop finishes first. Which raindrop will dip first into the crack of the window pane, where it’ll disappear forever.

//

It’s a game she played as a child, too.

She loved to watch the raindrops race against the plastic walls of her playhouse. In the quiet corner of her vast backyard.

It had rained on the day of her 6th birthday party. And Amelia had almost been glad for that.

Her Mother had talked it up the entire week.

“Saturday is Amy’s birthday!”

“Saturday is all about Amy!”

But it felt false to Amelia, even as a 6-year-old.

The forced element of the celebration. And the way her Mother had demanded her siblings participate, too.

But the party was cancelled. And Amelia instead found herself in her favorite place to be during a rainstorm. Surrounded by the yellow walls of her plastic playhouse.

Derek had found her that day. A smile playing at his lips as he ducked his wet head of hair into the window of her little hideaway.

“Whatcha thinkin about, Amy?”

//

“What are you thinking about?”

Amelia quickly shakes from her daze, abandoning the slight pride she’d just felt at her choice of raindrop winning the race against the car window.

She turns to Derek, and she even smiles a bit in his direction.

“I’m thinking about….starting over.”

“Starting over?!” Derek gives her one of his classic smiles. There’s an element of surprise to it, that lands in his eyes. But ultimately it’s laced with excitement, through and through. “Starting over is good.”

Amelia beams at him. It starts off small but she can feel the way it grows on her face. It’s the kind of grin that makes her cheeks dimple.

Derek shakes his head, laughing under his breath as he faces the road again.

“You know….no one wants you to start completely over, Amy.”

She raises her eyebrows at this, her grin transforming into more of a doubtful smirk at her brother’s words.

“Well I, for one, don’t want you to change.”

Amelia exhales a slight chuckle.

“I’ll try not to get rid of the good parts,” she mutters.

Derek is focused on the road in front of them, so all Amelia can really decipher, is his side profile. But she can see it. The hint of glassiness in his grey-blue orbs.

Silence falls between them, and Amelia feels a tightness form within her own throat. She attempts to clear it, tries to alleviate what the moment is turning out to be. But then Derek starts speaking again in a low tone, and the tightness spreads itself further.

“Dad would be so proud of you, you know.”

Amelia smiles tightly.

She only half believes that statement.

Because truthfully, she has no idea how she got here. How she managed to make it this far anyway. That realization hits her hard and fast and suddenly she doesn’t care that her eyes are stinging the same way Derek’s were a moment ago.

“I wish I remembered him better,” she admits, and her voice is notably thin.

Derek turns to her, his eyes filled with something Amelia can’t quite place.

“I feel like….” She continues, ignoring the way her voice wavers. “My idea of him comes from the pictures I’ve seen? If that makes sense? And I don’t have the actual memories anymore….I don’t….I wish I remembered what he was really like, you know? His voice, his mannerisms, everything-”

“I know what you mean.”

They exit the freeway, the car slowing at a stoplight as they enter the college town.

“You’re so like him in so many ways, Amelia.” Derek says it in a whispered tone, as they turn onto the main road. Like the comprehension is overwhelming to even him. “So….just like you said….don’t get rid of the good parts, okay?”

Amelia lets herself smile as she turns away from him, eyes scanning the surroundings of the town that will be her new home. The rain has died down significantly, and Amelia questions whether that’s an accurate observation, or if it’s just that they’re driving at a slower speed now.

“Okay,” she eventually responds.

//

“Are you okay?”

The question had come from Derek.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” Amelia had practically gasped upon slipping through the front door. She thought she’d been inconspicuous.

Derek stared at her expectantly.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.

“It’s pouring out. Did you walk?” There’d been criticism in his voice.

“You’d be more upset if I said I drove, right?”

“Amy.”

“Derek.”

They’d been at a standoff. In the middle of the entryway. Both of them seemingly unphased by the mix of mud and water that tracked all over their Mother’s favorite area rug.

Derek sighed. And Amelia stared at the floor. Unable to make eye contact, too aware that her eyes were hinted red and full of haze.

“Why didn’t you call me for a ride?”

“I didn’t know you’d still be here.” Her reply sounded bitter. But maybe it had just been the tightness in her jaw, the pressure from fighting off the wet and the cold.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“You missed Dad’s birthday dinner.” Derek’s tone had been accusatory again.

“Dad missed it, too.”

“Amelia-”

She’d cut Derek off with a bizarrely edged laugh.

Their Dad’s birthday dinner. They’d celebrate every year as a family. They’d sit down and have dinner together. And Amelia ultimately despised it. Mostly because they’d started grouping it together with her own birthday celebration. Her birthday followed a week after their Dad’s. And it just served as another reminder. Another reason for displaced resentment.

Amelia bit down on her laugh, stunned. She’d be turning 16 the following week.

“Amelia.” He said it again, this time more cautionary.

She finally looked at him. And she could see genuine concern in his expression.

“Are you okay?” He asked for a second time.

All Amelia could do was nod.

“Are you on your way out?” She whispered the question.

And then it was Derek’s turn to nod.

“I just wanted to say goodbye before I took back off to school,” he explained. “And I wanted to tell you happy birthday.”

Amelia smirked coldly at him, and finally started moving towards the stairs.

“Bye, Derek.”

//

2 years later and they’ve yet to improve this part.

It’s a rushed goodbye. Like it usually is for them. They don’t do goodbyes very well. Maybe that had something to do with shared past experiences.

Derek helps her set up her dorm room and when there’s nothing left to do, a knowing shift occurs in the atmosphere.

He pulls his hands out of his pockets, and forces a smile on his face. And when he pulls her into a tight hug, it takes Amelia a moment to reciprocate the gesture.

But Derek just squeezes her tighter until she does.

“You’re going to love it here, Amy,” he mumbles, before pulling away.

And Amelia just nods. Not able to find her words.

Because they’re bad at goodbyes. Which Derek knows. So he lets her off the hook, backs out of the small room with one last glance in her direction.

And Amelia watches him go.

//

Amelia doesn’t love it here, right away.

She tries to. She really does.

She sits in the shared common areas and convinces herself that maybe she’ll step up and talk to someone today.

It’s strange. She’s an outgoing person. She could be the life of the party when she really wanted to. But, she sits now, textbooks open in front of her, glancing around the library at fellow students. And she feels worlds beyond them. She questions to herself how she can even feel years beyond people her own age.

And that’s the self-inquiry that ruins her plan. She gets way too inside her own head and it hinders any chance she has at trying today.

Instead she gets up, shoving her books into her bag and walking purposefully to the exit.

It’s when she reaches her dorm, that the rain starts. She can smell it first. The distinct way the air changes when it’s about to rain. It feels humid and thick and her skin starts to feel sticky before the cold front lightly passes over her, and it provides relief.

The sky gets dark and it starts to sprinkle, just as she climbs the steps of her building.

As she enters her room, a dark cloud of restlessness storms her mind. Because she doesn’t know what her next move is. What her plan is for the rest of the day.

She looks around the small room, eyes catching on a piece of paper that’s been slipped under her door.

She picks it up, and when she reads the words on the flyer, she wants to laugh to herself. Because it simply lists an address for a party later tonight. And she’s laughing because, is this really how college works?

She decides there’s no way she’s going to the party.

//

After 2 hours of staring at the ugly off-white paneling of her dorm room ceiling, Amelia sits up in bed.

Because there’s a hint of it. A fleeting thought. A question that flashes through her mind almost too quickly to even divulge in.

But it’s there. The question of ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’

It’s enough to make her get out of bed. Which is confusing, to say the least. Because she hadn’t anticipated spending her evening this way. But now she’s pulling open her dresser drawers, trying to find something to wear. And she’s glancing at herself in the mirror, reaching for her makeup bag at the same time.

The last thing she remembers thinking, when she exits her dorm room is, what’s the worst that could happen?

//

The worst that could happen, happens almost right away.

It takes place in the form of ‘jungle juice.’

“It’s called jungle juice!”

Amelia stares blankly at the frat boy in front of her. She’s standing way too close to the bouncing speakers and the music is way too loud.

“What?!”

“Jungle juice!” He yells again, “Basically everyone brings a fifth of something and it all gets poured in there! It’s disgusting, but it makes for a dangerous concoction! Want me to grab you a cup?”

Amelia shakes her head. She doesn’t know what she was thinking.

Well, that’s not entirely true. She was thinking that she had to at least try. Give a shot at relating to people her age.

She surveys the boy in front of her. He’s attractive. Jet black hair, green eyes and even a slightly alternative vibe to him. It surprises Amelia, considering she’s in a frat house. He seems unexpected. And maybe her type. She’d probably go for him, if she wasn’t currently so inside her own head about it.

She feels her nails dig lightly into the palms of her hands as she drops her arms to the side, and she immediately catches herself. She exhales, trying to relax.

“I’ll grab something else, probably!” she yells back to the boy patiently standing in front of her.

Patiently, she thinks. Because she’s already a step ahead of him, labeling him, and she knows she’s someone that requires patience in events like these.

She shifts her eyes away from him, instead looking to the tiny window in the corner of the crowded room. It’s raining outside. Drops of condensation race against the glass in a familiar motion.

A feeling swells in her chest that’s hard to ignore. There’s a strong desire to escape her current environment and it practically makes her want to crawl out of her skin.

“I’m not supposed to be here!” She shouts over the music, turning back to the conversation.

“Huh?!”

“It’s raining!” She’s an octave louder this time.

“Yeah! It’s good we’re inside, right?!”

Amelia shakes her head, stepping away. Ignoring the confusion on the boy’s face, she turns on her heels, pushing through the crowd until she can find an exit. When she finally makes it out onto the less crowded porch, she lets out a huge exhale.

She keeps waking. The sun is setting, and the impending storm makes the sky a glorious shade of violet.

The rain pelts her skin as she walks hastily through the campus and although it provides relief, there’s also a sense of something else. It’s almost yearning. Or maybe homesickness. But it doesn’t make sense, because she’s never craved home before.

She thinks she’s crying. She can’t really tell. It’s hard to separate the rain from any potential saltiness that threatens her cheeks. The only thing that gives her away is her labored breathing.

She’s overwhelmed. And for once in her life she wishes Derek were here. He’d know the right thing to say.

Her thoughts are interrupted when a figure passes her on her left. It’s sudden. She doesn’t anticipate it and she doesn’t hear anyone approach, mostly because her thoughts are so loud and there’s thunder starting to rumble through the sky.

“Fuck,” she gasps, hand clutching her chest as the stranger passes her.

He’s running, but he slows his jog after she voices her alarm.

He turns around, taking in Amelia’s startled expression.

“Oh, sorry!” His own surprised guise shifts quickly to one of concern, though.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice raised to compensate for the rain as he calls out to her.

Amelia nods.

“You just scared me, is all,” she shrugs.

He looks her up and down, but Amelia doesn’t even feel scrutinized by it.

He steps towards her. And Amelia finds her voice.

“Out for a run?” She’s surprised by her own curiosity.

He shakes his head as he approaches. “I was walking back from the library,” he points to the sky, in an obvious gesture. “And then it started raining….and I started running….”

Amelia feels a smile break across her face, the dimpled kind. Because there’s something about the way he looks up at the sky while he explains himself, that amuses her.

He turns to her, and he has a wide grin on his face as he catches his breath from running. Not wide in the way that he’s smiling hugely, or anything. But Amelia can tell that his typical smile just happens to stretch that far. It makes her own smile further.

“You heading to north hall?”

Amelia nods.

“I live there, too!” He exclaims. “Food sucks but we have the biggest closets out of all the dorms on the entire campus.”

Amelia raises her eyebrows at this.

“Am I….bothering you?” His grin quickly fades. “God, I didn’t mean to just start….walking with you. Sorry, shit. You must think I’m some sort of-”

“You can walk with me,” she bites down on another smile. Because it’s the most she’s smiled in weeks and it feels foreign to her. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she peeks sideways at him. “As long as we don’t have to start running,” she adds with a laugh.

His smile returns. And they keep waking. The rain starts to die down a bit, but Amelia questions whether she’s imagined that. She can see the rain. And maybe she can hear it, too. But she can’t really feel it. Her focus has shifted.

“I’m Amelia, by the way.”

“Amelia?” He repeats her name, and there’s a spark of interest in his inflection, like he’s really doing his best to store that information.

She nods.

They reach north hall. The rain has come to a complete halt, and Amelia thinks it would almost feel sunny, if the sun hadn’t already set.

“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia. I’m Link.”

_______

[frostedfaves]

Kids Again

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: A series of moments in your relationship leads you to one night in Shaw’s, where everything seems different now. Inspired by Kids Again by Sam Smith.

Warnings: angst mixed in with fluff, alcohol use and mentions, smut scene so tiny you’ll barely notice it but still 18+ ONLY (fingering and oral)

A/N: finally got around to listening to Sam’s latest album and as you can see, I immediately latched onto this particular song. the lyrics are sprinkled in throughout the fic and in italics! can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)

Can't believe I still avoid east side

Even though I know that you don't live there now

Lately you're the only thing on my mind

And I can't stop myself from driving by your house

“So there’s a really nice bowling alley on the eastside, or we can try--”

“Let’s go to the other one,” you interjected, forcing a tight-lipped smile when your friend looked up from her phone. She simply shrugged and looked up the address while you took the time to remember why you didn’t step foot on that side of town anymore.

It was a few months after your sixteenth birthday, and you were still just as excited to drive everywhere as you were when you got your license and used car. Being her best friend (and really the only person in the world that she didn’t hate somehow), you had the gift of Rosa riding along in your passenger seat at all times, acting as navigation and snack holder when the situation called for it.

“What time is it?” you asked curiously and Rosa checked her watch.

“9:58.”

“Crap, I gotta get you home now,” you grumbled as you approached a red light, the pout you directed at her shifting into a smile when she grabbed your hand off the steering wheel.

“You really don’t.”

“No, I do. You’re in enough trouble as it is right now that I’m lucky you get to come out with me at all.”

You pulled your hand away to drive when the light changed, biting your lip to hide a grin when she moved hers to hold onto your thigh instead. The rest of the drive to her house was filled with silence, aside from the occasional noise from the surrounding traffic bleeding through the cracked windows. You turned to bid her goodnight when you parked, instantly cut off by her lips on yours. She was out of the car and inside before you could react, but the feeling of her kiss stayed with you through the rest of the night.

She had moved several times since that night, but her parents still lived there. You knew that by the glimpses of her mother and father you caught on the days you couldn’t help but drive past, needing the reminder of that first kiss to wash away the memory of the last.

Livin' out of suitcases and hotels

Drinking way too much and talking through the night

Really wish I didn't know you so well

Wouldn't be so hard to leave the past behind

“Fuck, don’t stop, fuck!” you cried out as you held onto Rosa’s hair, trying not to suffocate her with your legs as she worked between them.

“I’m sorry,” she teased as she pulled away, her wet lips forming a smirk as her fingers continued to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace. “What was it that you didn’t want me to do?”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I thought I was doing.”

She quickened her pace as she lowered her lips to your clit again, sucking and licking mercilessly as each of your moans came out louder than the last. Your back arched off the mattress as you climaxed and slowly relaxed again as you came down, laughing as Rosa raised her naked form to press her lips against yours, pushing her tongue against yours to allow you to taste yourself.

“We need to stop getting drunk at dinner,” you sighed happily, giggling when Rosa frowned at you.

“Why? Drunk sex is the best.” She shifted next to you on the bed and pulled you in to rest against her bare chest, wrapping her arms around you. “It’s not our fault Italy has incredible wine.”

“You’re right, it isn’t.” You listened to her heartbeat for a moment as her fingers trailed up and down your back, eventually sitting up to meet her gaze again. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“What?”

“There was significantly less shit-talking, which is apparently your favorite part of fucking me.” You placed your hand on her cheek as she turned away from you, forcing her to look at you again. “Tell me what’s on your mind, my sweet Rosalita.”

“I just worry about whether or not I’m cut out to be a cop, let alone a detective. Didn’t exactly start out so great.”

“Rosa,” you began, moving to straddle her waist and smiling when her hands instantly went to hold your hips. “One mistake doesn’t define your whole life! If it did, I’d still be ridiculed for some clothing choices from middle school. Clearly the academy sees some potential in you, since you were accepted into the program, and took a chance with you. Now you just have to give yourself a chance to live as the person you want to be, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.” You leaned forward to capture her lips again, smiling against them as you pulled away. “Feeling any better?”

“I am.” She flipped the two of you in one motion, and you grew a bit fearful at the mischievous glint in her eye. “Also, never call me sweet ever again.”

“Okay, sweet--” The rest of your words were cut off by a loud squeal as she attacked your sides with quick fingers, grinning at the sight of you squirming and laughing under her. If it was up to her, she’d spend the rest of her life in this hotel room with you.

Ooh, every time I hear our song it kind of hurts me still

And ooh, even after all this time I kind of miss you still

If you had the physical strength to, you would’ve punched the radio to silence it, so you settled for turning it off instead. Still air was much worse though, as it left you with your thoughts, so you ended up flipping to a station for kids music. Safe enough, right?

The irony of hearing you and Rosa’s song mere minutes after she broke up with you was not lost, and if anything, it made the whole situation hurt worse. When your girlfriend called you over to her apartment last minute, you assumed she was surprising you with a proposal with the way she’d been acting lately.

Instead you were given the exact opposite, parting words that held the excuse of falling for someone else. Unfortunately for Rosa, you knew her better than anyone, which meant knowing she’d never--in this lifetime or the next--cheat on anyone. Especially not you. You wanted to fight her on it, fight and cry and scream until she saw sense, but you didn’t.

Instead you settled on driving away and going home to drown your sorrows in a bottle of wine she bought you during your trip in Italy, the one that had you convinced she’d love you forever.

Tell me how you live without it

Did somebody change your world

And now you don't look back

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You lifted your gaze from the beer bottle on the table to the woman now sitting across from you.

“Detectives aren’t the only people that call this bar home.”

She nodded in recognition, lifting her own beer to take a sip.

“Thought you were more of a wine girl?” she dared to question, scolding herself quietly when you let out a humorless laugh.

“I was, but it started to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.” You drained the rest of the bottle and dropped it harshly back on the table. “What do you want, Rosa?”

“I don’t know. I saw you sitting here when I walked in and couldn’t stop myself from coming over.” She took another sip in hopes of drinking away her nerves, something she hadn’t felt around you in years. “So how have you been?”

You shook your head. “I know you hate small talk, so I’ll save you this painful exchange by asking you something. Was there really another woman, or did you let your fear of commitment ruin another good thing in your life?”

“I don’t have a fear of commitment,” she countered, but you saw right through her cleverly disguised shaky tone.

“We dated from the day of our high school graduation to our mid-twenties and only lived together in hotel rooms on our trips abroad.”

“I move around a lot. I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“I would’ve followed you anywhere,” you told her as you placed your hand over hers on the table, your eyes never leaving hers. “You know that.”

“Fine.” She sighed heavily as she placed her beer off to the side to grab your other hand. “I lied because I was afraid and I’m here now because life without you is way fucking harder than I thought it would be. So what if I asked you to revive old times with me and come back?”

“I’d tell you that I have no interest in reliving something that started when we were kids. I can’t go backwards in life, only forward.”

“What if I promised to really commit this time? What if I promised to never let you go until death do us part?” she asked quietly as tears filled her focused eyes, her voice cracking in a way that had you swallowing with difficulty.

“Then I’d tell you that I want to learn about the woman you’ve grown into before I make any major decisions, but you have definitely caught my attention.”

A smile slowly formed on your lips that influenced hers, until you were practically grinning at each other.

“Come on.” 

She got up and you watched her with a frown, grabbing your jacket as you stood too.

“Where are we going?” you asked, and she nodded to a group of detectives laughing and talking together in a booth.

“First lesson on who I’ve become starts now.”

No, we'll never be kids again

No, we'll never, never, ever, ever, ever, ever.... 

-

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @xetherealbeautyx @gaulty74 @milkfromhell

[rason-rodd]

All The Time We Need - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader and Jason meet again after two years being apart and reconnect with their long lost love.

Warning : Angst, Fluff, Smut  

Author’s note: A OS definitely inspired by my 2-years long hiatus and that somewhat acknowledges it. It was almost cathartic writing it and allowed me to reconnect with Jason on a writing scale. You can read it as a sequel to “Summer Love and Swimming Pool” or not. Some moments are a bit too cheesy to my taste but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. NSFW Part is at the end. You can skip that part if you want to.

You actually realise Time flies when you take time to acknowledge it. And sometimes acknowledging is like getting buried under a mountain of sand and feeling each grain slowly chocking you and reminding you there is no escaping. The sands of Time cannot be stopped, nor can they be shoveled. They run and slip through your fingers like dust in the wind and the tighter you try to grasp them the faster they go. And when they’re gone, there is no catching them back.     That’s why Time is scary. Because no matter what you do, it won’t allow you to go back or to put an end to it. And it will certainly not allow you to forget about it either. Time will pave your life until the day you die with a constant reminder that, unlike it, you’re not eternal. And the saddest thing is it doesn’t care about what you think of it.           And yet, it seemed like Jason Todd had managed to tell Time to go fuck itself. “How long has it been?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Looking as handsome as ever. Always and eternally sporting the same disheveled short black hair and the same mischievous yet tortured blue eyes, eyes that had put you in more trouble than you could remember. “Two years or so … I don’t know.”             All you could remember was a passionate summertime infatuation that had burnt your body and your heart night and day like a hot and dazzling sun. A fading yet intense memory you secretly cherished and replayed in period of loneliness and that you couldn’t seem to be able to replace on the timeline of your life. “Still so beautiful, I see.” You scoffed and he chuckled. “What?”       “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He scratched his head; arm muscles compressed in a leather jacket à la Jason that made you wonder how he could bear wearing such a light jacket in such freezing weather. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You goggled at his smile, childish, adorable yet naturally so seductive. The same smile that used to make your legs shake and turn to jell-o. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham.”         “Right back at you. Last time I heard of you, you were in this little town … Hopletown, was it?”   “Appleton.” He corrected. “Looks like Timbo talks about me in my absence.”           “You’re his brother. Of course, he talks about you, just like everyone else in your family.” Judging by his signature small crooked smile on his face he seemed touched by your words, taking even time to ponder over them. Did the family really think of him in his absence?

Shivering, you tightened your wool coat around you, attempting to prevent the cold wind to infiltrate under the cloth and steal your body heat, as you let Jason think about what you had just said. But your reaction didn’t go unnoticed and it managed to pull him out of his train of thoughts. “Do you want to go somewhere warmer? We could have something to drink, catch on. I’m sure you got plenty to tell.”         “Not plenty but I could use a hot tea.” You confessed, already imagining the spicy smell of cinnamon and chai in your nostrils and the hot steam caressing your cold face.     “Amazing.” He grinned, genuinely happy and excited, a bit like a little boy at a toy store, and lowered your beanie to properly cover your ice-cold reddened ears. That gesture got you confused for a small second but it was so sweet and caring you eventually smiled. Ah Todd, always the overprotective type I see.

***

“So, what are you doing in Gotham City? I thought you wanted to ‘travel the world Dora The Explorer-style and get the hell out of this cesspool’?” He quoted you and your genuine chuckle made him smile but only briefly as you gained back your seriousness in a matter of seconds.

He could tell you were not the same girl he used to date two summers ago. You had changed, matured. You had become a woman, a woman who seemed to struggle with responsibilities so heavy they could crush her at any second. You looked tired, weary… sad even. The cheeky light in you was gone. And he wanted to know why. Not out of curiosity but to help you.           “Well, I did travel and it was awesome, like a dream come true. But I guess we always wake up from dreams eventually.” You looked down at your tea, looking at your pale reflection in the hot water, melancholia hitting you like a train. “My mother got sick and, well, her savings were not enough to pay for all the medical care so … let’s say I had to swap my backpack for a satchel… I work at Wayne Enterprises now. Bruce hired me, out of pity I suppose.”         “I’m sure it wasn’t out of pity.” You shrugged and Jason grabbed your hand and you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I know how it’s like to …”     “Do you still think about us?” You abruptly cut him short, not willing to keep talking about your personal issues or to plunge Jason back in dark memories that you know were very hard for him to handle.     Sure, you could have chosen another question, another topic of conversation but the thing was that those words were niggling at you since the moment you two broke up. “I mean do you happen to think about what happened between us?”

Jason didn’t answer at first, more out of surprise than out of hesitation because there was none. There was just one answer to that question. Of course.             Of course he had thought about you all over those two years. Of course he had thought about what happened, about the moments spent with you – however ephemeral they had been -, about that love he had felt and had never learned to completely erase despite the women who had entered and exited his life. Of course there had been nights in which he had replayed the lustful burning memories of you in his arms, against him, against his naked body. Of course was the answer. But not the answer he gave you. “Come with me.” He forced you to get up and slammed a fifty-dollar bill against the table, not caring about the hot chocolate he hadn’t finished or the blueberry muffin you had barely touched. “But … the change.” You tried to protest.         “Fuck the change. I want to show you something.”

***

           Out of all the places in Gotham, you never thought he would have brought you here. “Why are we here, Jason?”       It was an ancient building, far from the fancy city centre and only a few blocks away from Crime Alley. Dilapidated, covered in colorful yet ugly graffiti, this place looked liked a landmark for drug dealers and junkies and it was an understatement to say that, without Jason’s company, it would have normally made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable.         “I grew up here, before Bruce took me in.” You glanced at Jason who was staring at the place with both disgust and melancholia. “I’ve always hated that place. But it was home. And I guess it made me… I guess that is because of that place that I somehow became the man I am today… I mean, if Jason Todd hadn’t grow up here with a junkie mother and a lousy father he would have never met Brue Wayne and never became …” He stopped, on purpose, you could tell it. “Even if I hate to, I come back here when I want to think of my past, when I’m looking for a reason to keep on fighting. This place is like my temple, a memento of who I am. Damn, you must think I’m crazy.”         “ No, not at all… ” You smiled and put your hand on his arm to reassure him. “Just very Romantic for the bad boy of the Wayne family.” You teased him, knowing perfectly that literature always been Jason’s hobbyhorse and that the whole bad boy thing was a persona, a thick armour he had made to protect himself.     “Blame Alfred. He’s the one who made me ready Wordsworth.” He joked, appreciating the small banter. “Follow me.”           You took the warm hand he offered you and followed him inside the decaying building, minding your step and trying to ignore the dirt and the potential rats.          

Once on the third floor, Jason pushed a rackety wooden door that cracked and squeaked on its hinges and you entered what once was his house. “You grew up here?” You asked only to fill the heavy void caused by this dreadful place. “It was the living room. Used to hide under the table there when my parents were fighting.”

You looked around you, trying to imagine a small Jason living in here. You always knew about his crappy childhood but there is a huge difference between what you had imagined based on the stories Jason had told you in the intimacy of your bedroom and this place.       “You asked me why we’re here.” You turned around and spotted Jason knelt on the dusty wooden floor, a small dusty shoebox that he had just taken from under a floorboard between his hands. “I’ve had this since I was a child. Used to keep the things I loved most in it. Somehow, even after I left this place, I never could take it away from here.” He handed it to you and you slowly opened it, careful not to drop it. You could tell this box was important to Jason.

The content left you silent and you sat on the floor near Jason to study it. “I never really opened it. I don’t like getting stuck in the past. It terrifies me.” You frowned, thinking about all the nightmares, all the anxiety attacks he used to have back in the days you were together. “I never showed it to anyone either but hopefully that’ll answer the question you asked me in that coffee shop.” The question? You had forgotten about it, way too overwhelmed by the sudden solemnity of this moment.  “Never?”           “You’re my first. You should be proud” He tried to joke to lighten the mood and it worked for a couple of seconds. Then, you saw it, among a dog toy, a broken necklace, a batarang and other small tokens. A photo of you two kissing and smiling. A Polaroid you had personally taken on the day when Tim had offered you the camera to illustrate your travel book. “You kept it.” You declared in a whisper.     “I told you. I keep the things I love most in that box.” You stared at Jason, at the cracks of melancholia and the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes he allowed only a few people to see. “Of course I thought of you over the years.”       You were not the cheesy romantic type. Jason was - something rooted to his love for gothic literature and poetry you supposed. But that sincere and pure confession got you all … flushed? bothered? You couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling but you could feel the shaky warmth spreading in your body, now paralyzed by the beauty of that moment. “Did you … think of me?”

If Time could stop, you would have chosen this moment to stop it. Here, now, away from your stressful life and its issues, away from all fears and all pains, with Jason and only him, forgetting about the past you’ll never be able to change or the future that vows to be uncertain and scary, thinking about what truly matters, now. “What do you think?” He chuckled and you saw his hand slightly twitch, as if he was hesitating to do something. And so you took it in yours and shared an umpteenth intimate look only he could read. “Sometimes I wish I’d never left.” Meaning, sometimes I wish I would have stayed and be with you.           “Trust me, princess. You made the right choice. Your life would have been miserable with me.” He tried to reassure you, in vain. After all, he could barely convince himself? “More miserable than the one I have right now? I seriously doubt it, Jay.” You frowned and finally got up, leaving Jason’s box on the ground, to watch at the sunset and its red golden rays from the shattered window. “What do you think would have happened had I stayed?” You had your ideas; small little ones of pure love, happiness and bliss that Jason would have managed to lock in that little box of his. “I have a better question, Y/N. What do you think can happen right now?” He was towering you, expecting an answer, waiting as he was gazing at your skin glowing under the soft light of the sun and at your shining eyes. “You tell me, Todd.” This sentence echoed in Jason’s head as a call.

And so his thumb brushed your cold cheek and you looked up at his face, your eyes glued to his features observing them and all the small details you hadn’t noticed before. A little scar thin as a needle on his right brow and a much bigger one, an invisible one that you could see in his eyes, the scar left by all the losses and the pains he had gone through recently. Roy, Bizarro, Artemis. Maybe Jason had changed as well after all. Maybe there was no secret to stop time. But he didn’t let you ponder over this and gently pressed his lips on yours.

He needed that. He had thought about it all day and the truth was, you had too. You welcomed his kiss without hesitation or second thoughts and came to press your small body against his - which seemed so tall and strong in comparison to yours – to instinctively look for safety and protection. “I missed you, princess.” He whispered close to your mouth for a brief second before capturing your full lips with his again. “I missed you too.” You confessed, hands over his hard chest, feeling his heart beat loudly under your palms.     Jason was holding you close now, his arms tightly circled around your form as if he was scared for you to leave, scared to be alone again. His fingers weaving in your hair, his head buried in the nape of your neck, he was pecking your delicate skin, smelling the sweet and heady perfume, glad it was exactly like the one he remembered. “Damn, Y/N. You’re still driving me crazy.”  He murmured as he allowed his hands to slide in your coat and under your jumper to caress your bare back, awakening a cheekiness that you thought was long gone. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You quoted him.

***

           As soon as the door to your apartment slammed shut, your coat dropped to the floor and with hasty hands, Jason threw your beanie across the room, showing an excitement you had almost forgotten. It almost knocked an old crystal vase over but he couldn’t care less.   He had waited long enough. Two years to be precise and he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Bedroom?” He asked between two hungry kisses that were making you almost suffocating against him. “ At the end of the corridor.” You whispered, already breathless, as you managed to finally get rid of his leather jacket.       “Okay.” He suddenly grabbed you to hoist you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, squeezing it on purpose. A lustful yet cheerful action that made you yelp in surprise.  “I’m already making you scream? Perfect.” He declared with an amused smile as he rushed towards the bedroom, with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring yours.     “Wrong door.” You said as he tried to open the bathroom. “Fuck.” You giggled and very soon your body finally bounced on your bed as it landed on the soft mattress.

You attempted to sit down to admire Jason but before you could do anything the hasty young man was already on top of you, right in between your legs, his lips already kissing your hot belly as his hands were slowly pulling up your jumper above your lace-covered breasts.           That’s when your first moan finally escaped your mouth. “God. I missed that sound.” Jason mumbled against your shivering skin as he cupped and squeezed your round breasts. “Do it again.” He demanded, his tongue licking you up until it reached your cleavage. “Jason.” You moaned his name, feeling a very specific humid warmth forming in between your legs as you fingers were struggling to get rid of his green t-shirt.   He cursed and knelt on the bed to take off your jumper that he carelessly tossed on the nightstand. It knocked the lamp and the radio alarm clock to the ground with a loud clinking noise. “Can you stop breaking my stuff?” You joked and he apologized with another amused bright smile. “I’m sorry, princess”             “Are you? Show me how much.” You declared with an audacious confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes, ma’am.” Jason winked and immediately unbuttoned your jeans to pull them down along with your panties, revealing your wet and rosy womanhood begging for his attention. He sighed and took a deep breath when he saw it, glad to rediscover that little part of you. Slowly, his calloused fingers went to caress it, making you draw a sharp breath as your fingers tightened around the covers. You didn’t want him to tease you too long and you somewhat you know he wouldn’t. Not today. He was too excited and needy for that.     And so were you in a way judging by the certain frustration that made you mewl when Jason’s expert finger slowly entered you while his thumb came to tickle your swollen clit. You wanted him now but you had to admit you had missed his fingers down there, the same way you had missed everything about him. Which reminded you there was something you had to do. “Let’s even the odds, shall we? I want to see how you handle such a sweet torture.”   “Sweet torture?” He repeated with a cute chuckle as you unbuckled his leather belt. “How am I torturing you, Y/N?” You unzipped his black trousers and immediately plunged you hand in his underwear to gently grab his already hard cock, making Jason curse even more crudely than before.           You chuckled and free his shaft from his boxers to jerk him off. He was as thick and long as you remembered. You bit your lower lip, impatient to feel him inside you. “Like what you see?”             “Shut up.” You knelt on the mattress and immediately took his tip between your lips to suck it like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his bitter pre-cum on your tongue and the sound of Jason’s sharp breath in your ears. “Damn it, princess.” He managed to say with half lidded eyes.   You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it in your mouth with a lustful moan. How much you had missed it. “You know. I think I get what you mean by sweet torture now.” Jason confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, torn apart by two ideas: one, let you continue your amazing blow job. Two, fuck you like he never did before. But you did not listen and started bobbing your head the way you knew he loved, taking his dick as deep as you could without gagging around him. “Fucking hell, Y/N” Jason groaned as he grabbed your head between his hands to accompany your pace. “You’re fucking amazing.” Then, his hand gently slapped your ass and he bent over to kiss it with a loving smile that was swallowed by another growl of his as his abs violently tensed with pleasure. “Alright, enough.” He pushed you flat on your back and placed himself between your legs again. He kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally lingered on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “I thought you said enough.” You complained, your voice as low as a whisper.

Jason chuckled and smiled brightly before he eventually knelt in between your spread thighs. “God, how gorgeous you are.” He declared as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to make you beg. You knew it. “You want this?”       “Fuck, Jay.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his shaft, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Jason ignored your whim and bent over your body. “You want me?” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Yes.” You murmured. “I want you, Ja…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness, his hand around his cock guiding it inside you, making you moan in his mouth. “Fuck.” Jason growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself slowly sinking inside of you. “I almost forgot you felt so tight.” “ I almost forgot you were so big.” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “I know. Sorry.” He winced, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Jason admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.”

Those last words made Jason grin in a way he had never done before as he was genuinely happy that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, a casual lay to remember the old good days.       So he immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core, ready to drown you. “Jay!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes.       “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls clenched around tightly his thick cock. “That’s it, princess.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of you. “Y/N” Jason groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours. “Jay!” You shouted again while clawing at his back painfully enough to make him wince and hiss.     Then he stopped moving, exhausted and breathless just like you, and watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He caressed your hair as you both slowly came down from cloud nine. A kiss on your nose and he whispered. “You’re okay?” and in spite of the silliness of the question you nodded. “Never been better.”

Your lips found each other again and Jason let himself lie down on you, placing his head on your breasts, listening to your hearts pounding and to your loud ragged breaths. “I missed you.” He whispered and he held you body against his.     “I missed you too.” You repeated as you planted a kiss in his wet dark hair. “Did you have to keep your jeans on?” The question escaped with a laugh and Jason chuckled. “You know me. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He managed to gather the little energy he had left to sit down and finally remove his trousers as he thought he would feel more comfortable without them. “Oops. I think I broke your clock.” He grimaced as he noticed you the broken device on the floor and the flickering numbers flashing up endlessly on the screen. “I don’t care.” You said as you pulled Jason back against you. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

[kkaebsongtypo]

01 | m.l | next

why wont you love me // hrj [02]

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, slight angst

wanings/notes: alcohol consumption (all parties are of legal age, drink responsibly!), mentions/symptoms of anxiety, mentions/signs of abandonment issues, jealousy, inspired by the song Why Won't You Love Me by 5sos

(warnings/notes are subject to change and updates if needed.)

word count: 2.1k

Renjun and y/n are an inseparable pair; they know each other like the back of their own hands. For the most part. Renjun keeps his true feelings hidden; y/n refuses to acknowledge their own. Both hold the fear of losing each other. But will one night out and a little too much to drink change everything?

a/n: hello part two is f i n a l l y here- sorry for the super long wait ;-; lmk if you want to be in a taglist ^-^

A week without Renjun and the boys proved to be a lot more difficult than you expected. On any other day, a normal day, you would have Renjun or Jisung on video call to keep you company whilst doing your work, cleaning the house, or just any other task. On any other day, you’d have a few of the boys lounging around your apartment, studying, doing project work, playing video games, spending their time in the comfort of your tidy home if they needed to get away from their own. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like you lived alone.

Needless to say, with your main group of friends away on their trip, you were bored. With the boys doing their own trip activities, it was hard to get a normal, lengthy video call in. Procrastination was one of your biggest enemies in the deafening silence of your empty apartment. Without the company of your friends occupying your phone, and your current lack of self control, you were sprawled out on your bed scrolling through Instagram, your essay long forgotten.

You sat up abruptly when you opened Renjun’s story and were greeted with a photo of him and a shorter girl wrapped in his arms. Your chest tightened and at their bright smiles. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the photo, the strange sensation in your chest growing. After a few seconds, you decided to close the app, the feeling (which, you concluded to be anxiety) building inside of you became overwhelming very quickly. You placed your phone face down on your bed and slowly laid back against the covers. You stared blankly at your ceiling and drummed your fingers on your bedsheets and chest.

A ding sounded from your phone and your hand flew to grab it. You hesitated to look at the screen though, unsure if you were hoping it was from Renjun or not. Ten seconds passed, and after a deep breath, you look at the message. A sigh fell from your lips when you read the contact name. It was from Jisung. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t Renjun as the anxiety in your chest continued to swirl.

bby chick <3: Are you busy rn bby chick <3: Can u vc bby chick <3: I miss you :(

You felt a pang of guilt for feeling slightly disappointed as you read the younger boys messages. You truly did miss him as well. The situation prior to his messages simply threw you off and into a frenzy of other feelings. Your fingers typed a response quickly.

: I miss you too :( : and no I am not busy, call me <3

It took no longer than 5 seconds for a video call from Jisung to pop up. After a deep breath to push down the previous discomfort within you, you put on a small smile and answered the call. The sight of Jisung’s face lighting up instantly when you appeared on his screen made your smile become more real, the photo of Renjun and that girl being pushed aside for the time being.

“Hii y/n!!” Jisungs voice was lively and excited. The setting sun shone a warm glow on him and the hotel wall. He waved to you, and you waved back.

“Hey Sunggie, how are you doing?” You asked. He didn’t hesitate to respond.

“I’m good, the guys and I miss you tons though! How are you?” Your chest tightened when he returned the question. It always broke your facade at times like this.

“I’m- I’m uh… yeah, I’m good.” Your feeble attempt at seeming okay was unconvincing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks with each blink. The uncomfortable feeling in your chest returned and your breathing quickened. Though your vision was blurred, you noticed Jisung’s expression fall into one of shock and panic.

“Wha- what’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He stuttered, reaching towards the camera as if trying to reach directly to you. You wiped your cheeks frantically with your sleeves and sniffled, a pathetic laugh falling from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong, Ji, don’t worry-” Jisung cut you off gently. Tears continued to fall from your eyes involuntarily.

“Y/n… please don’t lie to me… you’re clearly not fine…” Your chest tightened more at the sadness in his voice. He didn’t like seeing you upset, it made him sad seeing his friend in distress. You tried to dry your tears again, but it was no use. With a quiet sigh of frustration, you ran your hand through your hair. There was no use in trying to lie again, your feelings were impossible to hide at this point.

“I- ugh. Yeah, you’re right. I’m not really okay- I’m sorry.” You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at your apology.

“No!! Don’t be sorry!” He exclaimed. You glanced up at him and slouched further into yourself. Silence filled both of your rooms. You didn’t know what to say. You were embarrassed; your fear of being abandoned was consuming every bit of you with each passing second the longer you stayed in your head. Abandonment issues weren’t something you’ve ever talked about with any of your friends, there was never a reason to. Not until you saw that photo of Renjun.

The silence stayed for what felt like an eternity of being stuck in your own thoughts on a loop. No matter how many times you tried to tell yourself that Renjun would never just drop you out of the blue, the anxiety just pushed back. Part of you says “he wouldn’t.” but the other part of you fights back with “but he could.” It was a never ending loop; spiraling into yourself with no end in sight. Jisung snapped you out of your thoughts with a question that caused your cheeks to burn with anxiety.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You chewed on your bottom lip and tried to sort your thoughts before speaking. Tears began forming in the corners of your eyes again and they fell down your still damp cheeks when you blinked.

“It’s- ahh. It’s just- that photo of Renjun and that girl. It’s like, stupid but I think it was just anxiety saying like ‘oh Renjun found someone new he doesn’t love me anymore’ kind of-” The string of words fell from you lips quickly and in a mess, your insecurities growing and getting the best of you. Your voice cracked and you sniffled before taking a shaky breath and rubbing your eyes, giving Jisung the opportunity to speak. He was hesitant at first, his voice wavering slightly; he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Hey- um- breathe for a second. Can you, uhm, can you show me the photo?” You nodded and picked up your phone to open Instagram. A feeling of dread grew in your chest and stomach as your finger hovered over Renjun’s story. With a deep sigh, you opened the story, the photo popping up on your screen. You stared at Renjun’s smile for a second before tapping on the small paper airplane icon and sending it to Jisung. You waited quietly as Jisung opened Instagram to see the image. You laid on your back and positioned your phone next to you so the boy could still see you when he returned to the call.

While you were swimming in your own variety of conclusions, Jisung stared at the photo you had just sent, unsure of his next words. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, knowing that he could potentially make you feel even worse in one way or another.

“Y/n- oh my goodness. Okay- that’s not- that’s like Renjun’s second cousin. We just met her today!” You stared at your ceiling as Jisung returned to the video call.

“I… are you serious? Oh my gosh.” You groaned, tears beginning to fall faster again. Jisung frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, still hating to see you so upset.

“Yeah! Please don’t cry.” Jisung tried to comfort you as best as he could through a tiny screen. You sniffled and whipped the tears from your face, only for more to fall. He sighed softly, feeling slightly helpless.

“Look, even if that wasn’t his relative, I can assure you that all of us love you and we would never just up and leave you for anyone else. Renjun especially. y/n he…” He paused for a second, trying to pick his words cautiously to avoid exposing any secrets that weren’t his.

“You’re his best friend. He, of all people, would never, ever do that to you.” Your tears began to slow as you listened to Jisung, taking in everything he said. The external rationalization was reassuring, but the ache from the idea of losing Renjun continued to loom deep in your chest.

“I know that your anxiety clouds your judgement sometimes but if I can do anything to help at any time, please let me know.” He paused for a second, quickly realizing that you were keeping quiet.

“But if you can’t talk to me for whatever reason, try to remember what I just said.” You sighed softly. Jisung was really trying, and even though your thoughts continued to run wild, you were grateful for his efforts.

“Thank you, Ji. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for all that; it was just a huge scare about my best friend leaving me over what turned out to be nothing.” You rolled your eyes at yourself. You jumped to conclusions and got upset over a misunderstanding; you felt foolish. Jisung perked up and was quick to validate your feelings.

“Oh! No, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry for feeling.” He frowned at you and played with his fingers. You pursed your lips and looked down at your lap. Silence lingered for a couple seconds before Jisung spoke up again.

“Um, okay. I’m sorry of this is a dumb question, but like- are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction..?” The question made you tilt your head and bring your eyebrows together in slight confusion.

“Uh? Yes? What do you mean?” Jisung turned away and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah like, I dunno. The use of best friend- I mean like, are you sure you aren’t like, jealous?” Jisung turned his head down slightly, looking up at you with a careful gaze, nibbling the inside of his lip. Your eyes widened and you blinked a few times. Your lips parted to speak and you raised your eyebrows, but the words got caught in your throat. Why is this so hard to answer? You furrowed your brows for a second, regaining your composure enough to form some sort of coherent sentence.

“Oh- well I mean I guess maybe?? But no. What?? He’s my best friend and he’ll always be my best friend.” You tripped over your words as they came out in a mess. Your heart sped up and your cheeks warmed slightly. What is happening?? Jisung furrowed his eyebrows and tugged at his fingers as words began falling from his lips.

“Right- I’m sorry-” He started to panic, but you cut him off softly before he could ramble an apology.

“It’s fine Jisung, don’t worry about it.” You sent him a small, half smile. He chewed on his bottom lip and averted his gaze. Without letting the guilt-filled silence linger, you sighed and clapped your hands together.

“Enough about this stuff. Tell me more about the trip, what have you been up to?” You smiled softly. Jisung looked at you hesitantly and you nodded; an attempt at reassuring him. He took a second and raised his eyebrows before breaking into a smile.

“Well, the day after we arrived we just sort of slept in, but in the afternoon we went into the city...” You smiled as enthusiasm filled his eyes again, but his voice became mere background noise as you got lost in your thoughts once more. Jisung’s previous question coming back and lingering in your mind; “are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction?”

Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more.

You did your best to shake it from consuming you, wanting to focus on Jisung instead. But the tiniest voice in the back of your mind repeated in a loop, Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more. Right?

Taglist: @lolibaaae @currentlyraisinghell

a/n: let me know if you want to be part of a tag list ^-^

disclaimer: updates will be stagnant. thank you for understanding :)

[the-gay-prometheus]

We Have Work To Do

CWs: Big Time (fictional) Transphobia! (fictional) Trauma! I felt inspired to write a lil bit of angst for my Trans Victor Frankenstein AU, so have an excerpt that I wrote (warning - it’s pretty long). Potentially more to come in the future Notes: 1. Victor is a trans man 2. In this AU, when Victor and the creature meet on the mountain top, instead of agreeing to create a companion for him, Victor suggests that they stay on that mountain top together, saying that he would be more than happy to attempt to help the creature feel less alone. They start off still being Very Not Friends, but eventually bond very closely to where Victor sees himself as a father and the creature as his son 3. Victor names the creature “Agape,” specifically for the meaning of “the love between a creator and its creation, and between a creation and its creator.” 4. Victor and Henry are boyfriends. 

Victor sat by the fireplace, a scratchy wool blanket pulled tightly around himself. He stared into the flickering flames in silence, his expression blank yet foreboding and ominous. Embers popped and hissed, each one seeming to initiate the replaying of a memory within him. 

“VICTOR!” The roar of the creature’s booming voice echoed through the crowded street as he launched himself forward, lurching toward the feeble form of his creator as policemen began dragging the young man away. Victor looked up, his face mottled with bruises and scars, and through the pain his eyes widened. “LET HIM GO!”

“No - No! Agape!” Victor exclaimed, kicking and fighting his captors - earning him a swift beat from a baton to the side. He cried out as an audible crack signified a broken rib from the blow, but he still struggled. “Go home! Agape- I’ll be ok! Just- Just go home!” he managed to wheeze. The massive creature skid himself to a halt, the hood covering his face falling backward. The crowd around it all, who had been regarding this strange, tall man as nothing more than some odd fellow with some connection to this clear delinquent, now beheld his face - his gaunt proportions and dead yellow eyes which seemed to glow within their sockets. Screams erupted, prompting the now thoroughly overwhelmed creature to re-cover his face, and grip at his ears in an attempt to muffle out those horrible sounds he so often once heard. Still, he looked up toward where Victor was being carried away, tears welling in his eyes.

“I will not leave you! If they take you, let them take me as well!” he cried above the din, reaching out toward his creator though he was still so far away. One of the police who were amongst those dragging Victor away, had seen Agape’s odd features and - concluding that this was the crime against man that Victor had been accused of fashioning - raised his pistol. Victor caught sight of it out of the corner of his blurred vision, and in a moment of desperation, he pushed himself up and kicked the officer squarely in the shin. The gun dropped from the man’s hand and clattered to the ground, and a shot rang out as the force of the fall clicked the trigger. Agape screamed - a sound that carried far above the shouting of the others - crumpling to the ground and gripping at the hood of his cloak in fear. One of the officers kicked Victor in the face, and blood came gushing from his nose.

“GO HOME!” Victor exclaimed, partially sputtering from the blood that began rushing into his mouth. “JUST GO!” 

He grimaced at the memory, gripping the blanket tighter and gritting his teeth. The taste of blood covered his tongue, though there was no blood in his mouth, and his eyes - once a rich, dark brown, now turned more golden and seemed to ever so faintly glow - began to water with tears of pain and rage. He seethed, arching his back and moving his gaze from the fire to the floor. The memories that followed struck his heart like a dagger. The jailhouse - how they discovered what he had for so long managed to keep well a secret; that he was not born with masculine anatomy. How he was teased… how he was tortured. He could hear himself screaming for help, screaming for them to stop. The thought of it was enough to make him gag and lurch with a sob. And the trial - oh, the trial. Victoria. Victoria Victoria. The name resounded in his head like gunshots. The name he loathed more than any other thing on the earth. He had pleaded, made his case, to be addressed properly. “I am Victor. I am VICTOR!” 

Then there was the rope. He recalled looking upon the crowd at his execution - there were no friends among them. All jeered and regarded him with hatred. Perhaps he deserved that. He recalled looking to the sky and wondering who would greet him in the afterlife, and how he felt his heart break as the first image to come to mind was that of Agape. His own creation, who had innocently reached out to its creator for love and belonging, and how he regarded him only with disgust and contempt. Would whatever deity he met have the same reaction to him? The voice of the executioner had jolted him from the contemplation, he remembered. “Do you have any last words?” His vision swam at the thought of what came next.

Victor looked out upon the crowd in silence. Beaten, broken, abused, hearing his deadname over and over and over again even in his last moments. A surge of fear and agony swept through his veins and he broke into sobs. The crowd laughed. “AND SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS A MAN!” he heard one man exclaim. “LOOK AT HER, THE MISERABLE WRETCH! NOT EVEN GOD COULD LOVE YOU!” Victor sniffled, glancing up toward the man who yelled such horrible things, his expression turning to one of fury, until another sight caught his eye. Somewhere beyond the crowd, a tall, cloaked figure loomed. Yellow eyes stared at him, filled with sorrow and pain. 

“I said, do you have any last words?” the executioner repeated. Victor swallowed hard.

“Y-Yes,” he stammered. “I do.” The executioner motioned for the crowd to be silent, but much of the people continued their shouting. Their voices faded from his mind as he stared toward his creation. “I want you to know that I forgive you. For everything. And that no amount of apologies could ever repay the way I treated you. You were my greatest pride, from the second I conceived the idea of you. And most of all,” he paused. “Agape - my creation, my son, I want you to know that you were loved, even if only too little, too late. I’m sorry it had to end like this.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and he could see Agape’s yellow eyes widen. Before he could say anything more, he witnessed as his son became filled with desperation, shoving his way through the crowd without care of who he may injure. And before he could say anything to stop him, his ears rang with the priest who stood somewhere beyond reciting his final prayer.

What happened next was a blur he could barely recall. 

The floor fell away from beneath his feet, and he dangled from his neck. He grasped at the rope with his hands instinctively as he fell, stopping it from snapping his neck, but not stopping it enough to set him free. Suffocating, he thrashed and writhed as he tried to force his way free. His vision blurred. There was a commotion, shouting, someone screaming, multiple shots, the whinnying of horses. Just before all went dark, there was a soft light - two soft lights, the gleaming yellow of two eyes, and he felt himself drop. His gasped for breath, but no air could enter his lungs. He felt his muscles seize and his heart beat erratically. And before it all went dark, he heard one final phrase, “I came back for you.”

Now, according to Henry, he died. He died in Agape’s arms, in fact, just as they arrived at their dwelling on the mountain top. And though Henry supposedly discouraged it, Agape was insistent that he was going to bring Victor back. It still barely made sense to him - how he was able to be brought back from the dead with all his memories still well intact - but that was a thought for hypothesizing on another time. All he knew was that he was still alive, and that suddenly, all at once, he understood so much clearer his creation’s hatred for humankind. 

A knock stirred him from his brooding, and he jolted, turning toward the source with wild eyes and cheeks stained by tears. Standing in the doorway was Agape, his expression that of concern. “I- I apologize - am I disturbing you?” he asked innocently, his tone soft as he nervously ran his fingers along the seam of his cloak. Victor heaved three heavy breaths, then sighed and turned back to the fire.

“No, you can come in,” he answered after a moment, his voice still hoarse from the injuries to his throat. The towering creature slowly shuffled in, sitting cross-legged beside his creator and looking into the flames. He smiled slightly, always finding comfort in the beauty of fire.

“Are you… feeling alright?” he asked, then paused, realizing that was not the best of questions. “As in… feeling as good as one could be in your situation at the moment?” Victor didn’t reply, only staring ahead. His fingers clenched around his blanket and both his upper lip and his right eyebrow twitched, a tick he always had when he was upset. Agape glanced over to him, and, realizing he was upset, glanced back over at the fire quietly. After a minute of sitting in silence, he spoke up again. “Is there… anything I can do for you?” At first, Victor didn’t reply, but soon the look of bitterness in the aspiring scientist’s eyes turned to one of realization and determination.

“You know,” he began, sitting upright. “There is something you can do for me.” Agape turned to him, now curious and eager to hear what he - the being his creator once hated - could possibly do.

“What is it?” he asked, his head slightly tilting to the side and causing a lock of his long black hair to fall over his face. Victor didn’t answer for a while, so long that Agape began to worry that perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. When Victor did speak, however, his curiosity and worry turned to genuine fear.

“Make them pay.” The young man’s voice, though hoarse, was filled with such grit and such malice that the creature had never heard from any man - not even from himself. He moved away from Victor.

“Victor I- I cannot do that-” He was cut off as Victor shot him a scalding glare.

“Make. Them. Pay.” The wrath in Victor’s eyes frightened him greatly, though he could see behind the malice there was agony in his expression. He looked away.

“Victor I promised that I would not hurt any-”

“I DON’T CARE!” Victor screeched, suddenly jumping to his feet. Agape fell backward, staring up at Victor in terror. “Consider yourself free from that promise,” Victor sneered, stepping toward him and pointing a finger in his face. “If humanity falls, it will be by our hands,” he hissed, stepping back away. Agape backed himself against the wall, shaking his head.

“Victor I understand that you are upset but-”

“Oh, don’t you dare try to sit there and pretend that you are above causing destruction. You who have burned a family’s home and killed an innocent child,” Victor seethed. Sorrow gripped at Agape’s heart as Victor brought forward his past, and he felt the pain of despair course through him. Victor panted as he glared down at his creation, and after a moment he turned and began to pace. The silence gave Agape time to think, and with a ragged breath, he watched Victor with tired eyes.

“Please do not bring my past into this. We both know that I am long beyond that. I will not say I am above causing destruction, but I fear that you are not thinking clearly.” Victor spun on his heels, eyebrows furrowed into a dark scowl.

“Oh I am thinking very clearly, Agape. If you knew the things they did to me-” He paused, choking on his words as the thought of it brought tears to his eyes. “If you knew, you wouldn’t hesitate to do this.” The tall creature looked up to him with a sincere gaze of care.

“Then tell me.”

As Victor began his tale, Agape sat upright and listened close. With every word, he felt himself growing more and more enraged, but he kept himself externally calm - for Victor’s sake, and for the sake of not destroying the cottage. At one point in his story, Victor became so distraught that he broke into a fit of sobs. Agape took him gently in his arms, holding him carefully just as his creator had once done for him when he was wrought with regular panic attacks. As Victor calmed enough to continue in his arms, it became all too clear why such memories were just so difficult to describe. The atrocities committed against Victor were far more loathsome than those that had ever been committed against himself - and it took every ounce of his will power to not immediately take to the road and slaughter every human he would come across. When Victor finished his story, there was silence between them both except for the occasional gasp and sob from Victor. Tears ran down the creature’s face as he gingerly wiped away his creator’s own. “I will help you,” Agape whispered through his tears. Victor looked up to him, suddenly looking far more like a frightened child than the mad man he had appeared as just moments ago. “We will make them pay. Together.” Victor sniffled, nodding slowly and sitting upright.

“Hey you two, I’m finally back. How is it-” Henry announced as he walked through the door, carrying a few baskets of forage in his arms. He abruptly cut himself off as he witnessed the tearstained faces of his lover and his immense adopted child. “I’m going to assume not great,” he muttered, shutting the door with his foot behind him and moving toward a table to set his baskets down on. Victor jumped to his feet, wiping whatever tears were left on his face away and dropping his blanket to the ground.

“Oh no, things could never be better, dear Henry!” Henry raised one eyebrow, his lips turning downward into a somewhat disappointed frown.

“Victor, I know you. You never call me ‘dear Henry’ unless you are having a moment of delusion. Tell me what’s going on.” Victor strode over to him and embraced him tightly, which Henry returned somewhat awkwardly - Victor almost never initiated physical contact.

“I’m perfectly fine, Henry. No need to fear for me.” Henry pulled away with a sigh, planting a kiss onto Victor’s cheek.

“I fear for you all the time, Victor.” A slight smirk crossed his face. “After all, loving you is a full time occupation-” 

“And one that does not pay too well,” Agape quipped, repeating what he knew would always come after that phrase, rising slowly to his feet. Henry chuckled.

“Exactly.” Victor sighed and pulled away from him, striding over to Agape.

“Well Henry, my love, my light - I’d love to stick around,” he mentioned over his shoulder in a sickeningly sweet tone, taking his creation’s large hand into his own. “But we have work to do, don’t we,” he finished, looking up into his monstrous son’s yellow eyes, his own now-golden ones sparkling with anticipation.

“Yes, father, I believe we do.”

[citrusella-flugpucker]

All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar​) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described…  those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)