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wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse · 3 years

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Wishes (Aragorn x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 2207 Warnings: ANGST

AHHH OK so this fic was made in collaboration with @hey-its-nonny and it was so fun to write!

You woke in a restored Gondor, eyes fluttering open at the beams of golden sunlight seeping through your window. The day you‘d dreaded for months had finally come. It was the day Aragorn was to be wed to his love, Arwen.

You rose, already mourning your loss of your friend and your love. You didn’t know how you could stay, concealed in the dark. Hiding. Ignoring your emotions and acting as if they didn’t exist was a difficult task. But, if it meant Aragorn would be happy, you would try your best, unsure of what might come of it.

Slowly, you slid on your dress, the silky fabric brushing your legs. It was a beautiful gown, one that Arwen had made especially for you. It fit perfectly, snug around your waist and flaring out. In your favorite color, too.

The necklace Aragorn had given you laid heavily on your neck. It felt wrong to be wearing it to this event, but without it, you didn't feel whole.

And with a look in the mirror, you sighed, a saddened smile gracing your lips while you prepared yourself for what would be one of the saddest days of your life.

You thought back to a better time when everything was easier. When your love for Aragorn had bloomed.

It was a cold night. You and Aragorn had gone on yet another adventure together through the hours of the night. After plenty of frolicking and distractions, you’d both agreed that it was time to eat.

You’d decided a warm soup was the way to go, and Aragorn agreed with you on that as well. And while you waited for your meals, you talked around pointless things, avoiding the affection that was blossoming.

You were teasing him, pushing him around, baiting him. When he finally retaliated, he accidentally hit your soup out of your hands. The target for the food? your clothes. Your shirt was covered, and you stifled a laugh while Aragorn looked mortified.

You winced a bit at how hot your soup was, as well as the fact that you could no longer eat it, since it was so elegantly spilled on your shirt.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. Here, let me- I can-” The poor man rambled, looking for a cloth to dry your shirt. You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, though the fiery wrath of the soup was definitely a contender for your attention.

Yet still, you laughed, opening your bag with a hum. “Aragorn, I’m sure I have a spare shirt in my pa- What? Where is it?” You quietly gasped, Aragorn’s eyes brightening.

“Take mine, Y/N. I have a spare.” He stated, the red on his cheeks dissipating.

Your gentle hands gingerly grasped the shirt as you stood, sharply inhaling at the temperature of the soup. “I’ll be back.”

After a minute or two, you walked over to the table and sat down, cozier than ever in Aragorn’s off-white shirt. You offered a smile and caught Aragorn’s eye, his shocked expression warming your cheeks. “It is a little big, I will admit, but it will do until I get a fresh change of clothing.” You grinned, biting back a smile.

“Keep it.” Aragorn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the slightest and sweetest of ways. “It looks better on you than it looked on me.” He stated, inhaling a breath after stealing another glance at you.

You still had that shirt, after all the time that passed.

Those were fond memories you had of him, but fleeting. You smoothed your dress down and slipped on your shoes. Another memory came to haunt you, the emotions overwhelming.

You were wandering Rivendell when you heard a giggle. You had turned a corner, finding Aragorn, his lips glued to Arwen’s. You cleared your throat, causing them to break apart, looking at you sheepishly.

Arwen spoke softly, “Oh, I am sorry about that. We didn’t know anyone else would come here.” Of course, she didn’t know that Aragorn and you had spent many hours in this same place. You avoided his gaze and hid your emotion, laughing instead.

“Oh I have so many things I could say, but most important of all, I could tell everyone!” You paraded around them, joking of course. They laughed along, not truly seeing how much this hurt you. And you would keep it that way.

The decorations were beautiful. You gazed upon the arch that Aragorn was to be wed under, trailing down the cascading vines and flowers. You counted at least a hundred guests.

If it weren’t for the emotions you felt at the moment, you might have smiled just because of how beautiful everything looked.

The bells rang, signifying that the ceremony would start soon, and you took a sharp breath. Your stomach churned like you were about to face the armies of Mordor alone. But it wasn’t the time to be afraid. It was time to be Aragorn’s friend.

The very man that your thoughts were formed around jogged up to you, handsome as ever. His armor contrasted his eyes beautifully, and the smile he wore made you melt.

“Y/N. Just the woman I wished to see.” He grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder while you returned the smile.

You hummed, straightening your back. “What do you need?” You asked, ready to do whatever he needed.

“A friend.” He replied, indicating that he was nervous.

“You’ll be fine, Aragorn.” You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will go smoothly, I assure you.”

The man nodded, a dreadful sigh escaping his lips once the bells rang again. Of all the things you’d said today, the three words that left your lips were some of the hardest to get out. “Go get her.”

Once everyone was settled, the ceremony began with Elrond giving Arwen away. You watched Aragorn closely, the way his eyes lit up when Arwen was unveiled, the pure love and devotion he had for her nearly killing you. You had no idea it would be this hard. Tears pricked at your eyes when they kissed and you were glad you could blame it on the “beauty” of the moment.

You watched Aragorn lead Arwen down the aisle, each step a dagger in your chest. No matter how strong you wanted to be for Aragorn, you couldn’t watch this any longer. Your strained smile slowly disappeared as they walked out of sight. You had to get out of there.

So, when he wasn’t looking, you quietly slipped away, allowing the tears to finally fall. What you didn’t know, however, was that he saw you walk away, more confused and worried than ever.

Once you were far enough, you broke into a sprint. You needed to get as far away from there as fast as you could. You slipped your shoes off, the cold and roughness of the stone adding to your anguish. Upon reaching the garden, you sobbed, collapsing onto the stone ground where you once stood. You couldn’t control it. Your shoulders softly shook as you cried, feeling nothing but sorry for yourself. You thought you could watch Aragorn give a special part of himself to Arwen. You really did. But you couldn’t.

And you hated yourself for it. You held your head in your hands, sniffling quietly into the silence. You never got to tell him how much better he made you. You never got to hug him as Arwen would. You never got to laugh at his flirtatious jokes like Arwen would be able to. You never got to kiss him as Arwen would. But then again, why would he ever kiss someone like you? You weren’t even half as pretty as her.

Too lost in your own sorrow, you didn’t hear Aragorn’s footsteps approaching. Something about rangers, they always knew how to stay quiet and test the situation. Upon seeing you, he removed his crown, kneeling beside you with worry written on his sharp features. “Y/n? Y/n, why are you upset?” The worried man asked, gently grasping your trembling shoulders.

You flinched under the touch, shrinking away from the touch. “It is nothing, Mellon. Please, go be with yo- Arwen. Were you not just betrothed?” You asked, wiping away the salty teardrops on your cheeks.

While you stood to leave, Aragorn mimicked your actions, blocking your exit. “Y/n, please. I only wish to help,” He pleaded, following your gaze. He gently grabbed your chin, sending a shiver down your spine while he forced you to look at him.

“Aragorn, please let me go.” You sniffled, lip quivering while your eyes begged him to leave.

Aragorn frowned, giving one final attempt at helping you. He couldn’t know. He could never know. “Was it Arwen? Gandalf? I do not know what could have upset you in such a way.” He frowned, brow creased in worry.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. No more games, or guessing, or hiding from it. You’d tried so hard, only for it all to come crashing down in flames before your eyes. “It’s you, Aragorn!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks while throwing your hands out.

You laughed a sad laugh, backing away from the man you’d loved for countless years. “It’s always been you.” You croaked weakly, your voice brittle and defeated. Aragorn was still confused. He cautiously stepped forward, taking your hands in his own. “Y/n, what do you mean?” He asked, clearly worried that he’d hurt you in some way.

You shook your head, biting your lip while you trained your gaze on the ground. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just-” You smiled, shaking your head as you met his gaze. “Just go be with her. You need to be with her.”

But instead of walking away, Aragorn shook his head. “Y/n, we cannot keep circling amongst each other like this. Please, tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.” He pleaded, worry and remorse engraved in his expression.

You took a shaky breath, tearing up once again. “I can’t, Aragorn.” You admitted, the cost of saying the words far more than you were willing to give. “If I do, I will have to leave.” You choked, willing away the tears.

Aragorn sighed, determination set in his jaw. “Whatever you are facing, Y/n, whatever comes, I will face it beside you.” He stated, confidence and truth behind the words. You hated how perfect he was. Always an amazing friend, but not for much longer.

Finally, after a minute of silence, you decided that if you were going to leave Gondor for the rest of your days, you might as well make it memorable. “Forgive me, Aragorn.” You pleaded, leaning in to steal a kiss from Aragorn.

He hummed in surprise, but didn’t back away, eyes fluttering shut. You relished in the feeling, your hand on his warm, stubbly cheek. It was incredible. Until the both of you realized what was happening. You gasped, backing away from the kiss. “I-“ You stammered, quickly going into a panic. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” You breathed, stumbling out of the garden.

You felt like such an idiot. All of the nights wasted in tears rushing back to haunt you as you ran away from the love you’d held onto so dearly. You ran as fast as you could for the forest, clutching the necklace Aragorn had given you. Habit.

Little did you know, Aragorn decided to run after you, desperate to clean up the mess you’d made. You ran, skillfully weaving throughout the trees to lose Aragorn.

Once you thought you were far enough, you leaned against a tree, dirt marks along your arms and legs. That was the last time you would ever see Aragorn. You wasted it. So, you cried. Then you decided you would move on. Start over.

Aragorn approached, careful not to startle you. You looked up, resting your head against the tree with an irritated sigh. “I can’t stay.” You whispered, your defeated tone letting Aragorn know just how much of a toll this took on you.

Aragorn frowned, the glisten of a tear catching your eye. “Why? We can forget it happened, Y/n. We can make this right.” He suggested, a pleading in his voice that you’d only heard a handful of times. It hurt.

“We can’t. I have to leave.” You replied, forcing yourself to look at him. “I love you, Aragorn. I always have and will. Nothing can ever change that. So, unless you have miraculously realized that it is not Arwen, but me you love, which I highly doubt, I’m leaving.” You explained, standing with a sigh, knowing Aragorn would try to follow.

He stood, watching while you unclasped the necklace Aragorn gave you. “Goodbye, Aragorn.” You spoke defeatedly, gently grasping his hands to place the necklace in them.

“Y/n, anything you wish, I will do. Just stay.” He asked one final time, slow tears falling down his cheeks.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I wish I were Arwen.” And with that, you walked away, thankful that Aragorn didn’t try to follow.

taglist: @lady-latte

#Aragorn #aragorn x reader #lotr #lotr writing

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hey-its-nonny · 3 years

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Wishes

Aragorn x reader

okay this will be my last angsty fic i promise

I’m excited to announce that this fic is a collaboration! i wrote this with @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse and i am super pleased with it!

chap. six of In Between is out, so be sure to check that out. ANYWAYS this is inspired by the song Heather by Conan Gray :)

let the heartbreak commence <3

~~~~~

The necklace Aragorn had given you laid heavily on your neck. It felt wrong to be wearing it to this event, but without it, you didn't feel whole.

And with a look in the mirror, you sighed, a saddened smile gracing your lips while you prepared yourself for what would be one of the saddest days of your life.

You thought back to a better time when everything was easier. When your love for Aragorn had bloomed.

You winced a bit at how hot your soup was, as well as the fact that you could no longer eat it, since it was so elegantly spilled on your shirt.

Yet still, you laughed, opening your bag with a hum. “Aragorn, I’m sure I have a spare shirt in my pa- What? Where is it?” You quietly gasped, Aragorn’s eyes brightening.

“Take mine, Y/N. I have a spare.” He stated, the red on his cheeks dissipating.

Your gentle hands gingerly grasped the shirt as you stood, sharply inhaling at the temperature of the soup. “I’ll be back.”

You still had that shirt, after all the time that passed.

Those were fond memories you had of him, but fleeting. You smoothed your dress down and slipped on your shoes. Another memory came to haunt you, the emotions overwhelming.

The decorations were beautiful. You gazed upon the arch that Aragorn was to be wed under, trailing down the cascading vines and flowers. You counted at least a hundred guests.

If it weren’t for the emotions you felt at the moment, you might have smiled just because of how beautiful everything looked.

The very man that your thoughts were formed around jogged up to you, handsome as ever. His armor contrasted his eyes beautifully, and the smile he wore made you melt.

“Y/N. Just the woman I wished to see.” He grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder while you returned the smile.

You hummed, straightening your back. “What do you need?” You asked, ready to do whatever he needed.

“A friend.” He replied, indicating that he was nervous.

“You’ll be fine, Aragorn.” You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will go smoothly, I assure you.”

So, when he wasn’t looking, you quietly slipped away, allowing the tears to finally fall. What you didn’t know, however, was that he saw you walk away, more confused and worried than ever.

“Aragorn, please let me go.” You sniffled, lip quivering while your eyes begged him to leave.

Little did you know, Aragorn decided to run after you, desperate to clean up the mess you’d made. You ran, skillfully weaving throughout the trees to lose Aragorn.

He stood, watching while you unclasped the necklace Aragorn gave you. “Goodbye, Aragorn.” You spoke defeatedly, gently grasping his hands to place the necklace in them.

“Y/n, anything you wish, I will do. Just stay.” He asked one final time, slow tears falling down his cheeks.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I wish I were Arwen.” And with that, you walked away, thankful that Aragorn didn’t try to follow.

~~~ i LOVED writing this!!! if any of you writers ever wanna collaborate, hmu!!

tags: @eru-vande @thewhiteladyofrohan @from-patroclus-with-love @elvish-sky @lady-latte @entishramblings

#aragorn #aragorn x reader #aragorn x yn #lotr #lord of the rings

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

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Argonaut Atalanta

[Tour!Verse]

This was supposed to be a fic about body image issues...but then I was writing it...and it didn’t become that at all

This also isn’t my best work. It feels kinda rushed but 🤷‍♀️

Word count: 2596

Prompt: “Look at you… Goodness, you’re so cute.” “Thank you for staying with me.” “Don’t look.” “No, please! No, no no no no no!”

Tw: Blood

———————

A wave roared into the beach and crashed around Howard’s feet. Her toes sank into the wet sand. Her pink and dirty blonde hair billowed in the wind.

She couldn’t really remember whose idea it had been, but someone had decided they were going to spend the week away at a rented beach house. Not that she was complaining. It felt nice to finally get out of the cities and get away from performing.

Suddenly, there was a blur of aquamarine to her left- Maggie crashed into the water a moment later. Howard watched her flounder around in the small, but powerful waves in amusement for a moment before she managed to roll over and get back to her feet. She threw her arms up with a triumphant yell before stomping further into the ocean to go swim. Anne and Maria soon joined her, while the others finished setting up.

“Alright, kids,” Aragon said, flipping on her sunglasses. “Do not bother me for the next four hours. There will be hell to pay if you do. Toodles!” She waved and then loped over to a beach chair, which she promptly lounges her elegant body on. If she was trying to show off her toned stomach and muscles arms in her golden bikini, then it was definitely working.

“Do you have mommy issues?” Cleves strangely asked Joan, who had been caught staring at the queen. “Because isn’t Catalina like your—”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Joan cried. Aragon lifts her sunglasses to peer over at her when she yelled, but resumed sunbathing when she was sure the music director was okay.

Howard shook her head before looking around curiously. It only took her a moment to find who she was looking for.

“There’s my sweet girl,” She cooed, walking over to Bessie, who had been rooting around through the fluffy white sand.

Bessie looked up at her and grinned brightly. She, like Joan, didn’t have a bathing suit showing, instead donning a white sundress. Although Joan was wearing swim trunks and a rash guard because she would fry in the sun. But Howard could assume why Bessie wasn’t taking off her covering.

“Found anything?” Howard asked, crouching down next to her.

“Not yet,” Bessie shook her head. “But we just got here! So I’m sure I will soon!”

Howard ruffled her hair, which was dyed pink at the tips (she had wanted to match with her mother), affectionately.

“Wanna go in the water?” She asked. “Or do you want to keep digging?”

Bessie perked up. “Let’s go in the water!”

Howard laughed and helped the girl to her feet. They both snagged goggles from the beach bag before venturing into the cool water.

“This is freedom, Bessie,” Howard said, taking in a deep breath.

“Freedom smells a lot like fish.” Bessie observed, and Howard splashed her playfully.

They both walked until they were in stomach-deep water. Well, stomach-deep for Howard, closer to her shoulders for Bessie. Still, the shorter girl seemed content as she put her goggles on and then disappeared under the surface. Howard watched her swim down with a loving smile before joining her.

Swimming was a tad difficult to say the least. The current kept trying to shove her back up to the beach and then yank her out again, turning her body into the rope used in a game of aquatic tug-o-war. Bessie, however, didn’t seem phased, as she pulled herself through the water to look at the sea floor. She grabbed at handfuls of sand for grip, but the ground was far too loose to hang onto, and she was left flapping her hands awkwardly as she tried to stand at the ground. Howard laughed as she watched this, flurry of bubbles exploding from her lips, and Bessie stuck her tongue out at her—only to remember she was in saltwater.

“Silly girl,” Howard chuckled when they both resurfaced. Bessie was still spitting and sputtering. “You’re such a good swimmer! Like a little bleached frog.”

Bessie’s face flushed red and she laughed awkwardly, but Howard can tell that comment made her uncomfortable. She could see her arms snake around her stomach in the water, and her theory of why she kept the sun dress on was suddenly proven.

“Hey, hey,” Howard said quickly. “I’m sorry. That was the wrong thing to say. I just meant you were swimming like a frog. You know—they do that kicking thing with their legs. That’s what you were doing.”

That just made Bessie blush harder and she sunk below the water without a word. Bubbles burst on the surface as she sank. And then she’s careening right into Howard’s legs like a cannonball when a vicious current knocked her forward.

“Sorry!” Bessie cried when she came back up. “I’m so sorry, Kat, I didn’t-“

“Shh,” Howard cupped Bessie’s wet cheeks after regaining her balance. “What did I tell you about apologizing for things you didn’t cause?”

“Don’t do it...” Bessie’s shoulders hunched. “Sorry. Argh! Dang it!”

Howard chuckled lightly. She leaned forward and kissed the girl’s forward, then immediately began spitting out the salt that brushed her lips.

“Ew.” She said in distaste. “Anyway, we’ll still work on that. Now...think you can find me a nice shell?”

Bessie lit up. “I’ll find the prettiest one!”

With an excited giggle, she disappears under the surface like an eager dolphin. Howard watched her go with a loving shake of her head, then turned around to observe what everyone else was doing.

Aragon was still lounging on her beach throne, although she was in a different position. The closest person to her was Joan, who sat under an umbrella and was simultaneously reading and drawing. Cathy and Jane were sitting on the bay, letting the tide lick hungrily at their legs as they drizzled mud on their thighs and knees over mild conversation. Maria and Cleves were playing with a volleyball in the shallows, while Anne and Maggie were somewhere further out. Howard thought she saw a flash of her cousin’s emerald green bathing suit a few meters away. Then, there was her wading in the water and her precious Bessie exploring the depths below her.

Where Bessie was, the water was much warmer and bursting with aquatic life. Plain sandy plateaus turned into a petrified forest of pale pink and washed out orange coral. Bessie stared at the underwater jungle with wide eyes before getting another breath of air and paddling over excitedly.

There were so many shells!

She dug her hands into the sand as best as she could after deciding that grabbing onto the coral wouldn’t be the best idea. She gawked at all the shells around her and grabbed a particularly pretty white and grey one. She turned it over and was immediately met by a grumpy hermit crab. It flailed its little legs and pinched its claws in the air angrily until she put it down. The tide captured it almost instantly and Bessie watched it bounce around the sea floor until rolling to a halt a few feet behind her. She giggled, then moved on.

After a bit of searching (with two trips back to the surface for air), she spotted a long, brown and pink-white shell with a pointing end. She picked it up and made sure there was no residence inside before darting back to Howard.

“Oh!” Howard yelped when Bessie suddenly popped up in front of her. “You startled me, baby.”

Bessie giggled, then proudly held up the shell she had found. Howard gave an impressed coo and plucked it up from her palm.

“Pretty?” Bessie asked hopefully.

“Very pretty.” Howard confirmed, smiling at her.

“Yay!” Bessie cheered. “I’m really glad! There’s a lot more over— EEP!!”

The girl suddenly leapt into Howard’s arms, wrapping all her limbs around the woman to cling onto her like a frightened koala. She looked fearfully over her shoulder to peer into the water.

“Something touched my foot!” She cried.

Howard gasped. “How dreadful! I’ll make sure to squash it to tiny pieces so it’ll never do such an evil thing to my princess ever again!”

“Mum,” Bessie groaned, burying her nose against Howard’s wet neck. She giggled when she was given a quick peck on her salty cheek.

“Look at you,” Howard said, bouncing the bassist in her arms. “Goodness, you’re so cute.”

Bessie made a flustered noise and pressed her face further into Howard’s neck. She was lucky the queen didn’t mind her throat being touched or else she surely would have been shoved off.

“What? I never had a daughter, darling. I’m going to gush over you. You know that.” Howard chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bessie said back. She peeled away from Howard after a moment, although she felt colder when not in the queen’s arms. She felt like she fit perfectly in them.

They began the short trek back to the beach after that. Howard retired to a towel to tan on, so Bessie bounded off down the shoreline so she could find some more things.

She passed by Joan, who was sculpting a very intricate sandcastle and didn't seem to be aware that her arms and legs were baking in the sun. Bessie winced at the alarming shade of red the skin has already turned to.

Further down the beach, quite a ways away from the little campsite, Bessie found that the sandy bay turned into a rocky shoreline that was dotted with colorful tide pools. Pale pink starfish clung to the edges of the dugouts while schools of bright yellow and orange fish spiral through the enclosure. White and grey oysters and clams sat lazily at the bottoms in the grains of sand.

Bessie stepped carefully over the pools to get to the edge of the shore. The waves were much stronger there, crashing heavily against the sides of the rocks and sending a spray of white foam splattering through the air. The water cascaded over her feet, churning around her ankles, then sucked back jarringly. Bessie stumbled at the force, then fell.

The riptide seized her. She’s pulled into its raging body and smothered with its mass. She struggled when the shock wore off, but something caught her in foot and anchored her back down. Something sharp and pointy, which elicits a despaired wail before salty water rushes down her throat and clogs every passageway.

—

Howard jolted upwards on her towel. She looked around, then shot to her feet and briskly walked down the beach. Uneasy was prickling through her and she wasn’t sure why. She felt way too restless to just lay in the sand and try to tan.

Something was wrong.

Something was wrong; because she soon spotted a figure convulsing under the water further down the beach.

Bessie.

Her daughter.

Howard broke out into a sprint, adrenaline now pumping through her veins. She dove into the water and swam over to where Bessie was struggling. Flailing limbs whacked Howard several times in the face, and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t get the gel to calm down. She just kept writhing in the angry tide.

Clouds of murky red were billowing around her. Blood. She was bleeding.

Howard took a breath and submerged herself. Despite the horrible sting of salt water, she opened her eyes and began to search, quickly finding what had her daughter ensnared—a fishing wire.

She pulled, but all that did was cause Bessie to make an agonized cry. Howard tried again to no avail. She swam lower, feeling the undertow claw desperately at her waist and legs, and just decided to bite the wire, cutting it in half with her teeth.

Bessie convulsed as she was freed and Howard grappled her body, swimming her to the surface. A wave instantly crashed over them and slammed them both into the rocky shoreline. Howard took the brunt of it, wincing when her waist hit against the rough stone. She shook the pain off and clambered onto the bay, pulling Bessie up with her. She half carried, half dragged the girl back into the sand then set her down. Immediately, Bessie began to cough, and seawater came flooding out of her mouth.

“Get it all out, sweetheart,” Howard encouraged, helping her roll over. She patted her back. “It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

“Mama,” Bessie sobbed through another watery cough. Her head flopped back miserably against the sand.

“I’m right here, baby girl.” Howard brushed her soaked cheek. “I’m right here. Mama’s here.”

Her eyes slowly gazed down as Bessie continued to struggle with the water she had swallowed. There was a dark stain in the sand around her legs—blood. There was blood on her left foot, too, from where a fish hook was pierced all the way through her flesh.

“Oh no,” Howard muttered.

“What?” Bessie said fearfully. She tried to get up to look, but Howard eased her back down.

“Don’t look.” Howard said. “Just relax and try to breathe for me. Think you can do that?”

Bessie nodded shakily. She rested her head in the sand, doing her best to maintain her breathing, but it was hard after nearly drowning and with the panic he mother was giving off.

“You’ve got a hook in your foot, baby.” Howard told her grimly. She saw Bessie’s entire body tense up and her heart ached for the girl. “I’m going to pull it out.”

“No, please! No, no no no no no!” Bessie begged. “It’s gonna hurt. P-please don’t!”

“I have to, baby,” Howard frowned. She brushed a clump of pink-white hair out of the girl’s face. “It’s going to hurt worse if I leave it in. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Bessie just made a miserable whimper and screwed her eyes shut. Howard took that as permission to get to work, so she held Bessie’s left ankle down with one hand and carefully grabbed the hook caught on the side of her foot. The tip had gone all the way through and was now sticking out of the top. Howard winced; Bessie was not going to like this.

The cry Bessie made when Howard slid the hook down was heart wrenching. Her body convulsed with pain and she wailed again as Howard continued to pull the hook out of the hole it created until it was free from her foot. She threw it away and then cradled Bessie’s head in her lap as she wept.

“It’s out, sweetheart. I got it out.” She told her, stroking her hair and face. “You’re okay now. The hook is out.”

Bessie sniffled weakly and opened her teary brown eyes. Howard was smiling down at her warmly.

“I-it is?” She asked. Her foot twitches slightly.

“It is.” Howard assured her. “I promise.”

Bessie took a few deep breaths, then nodded. She squeaked softly when Howard suddenly scooped her up in her arms.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asked shyly.

“Carrying you,” Howard replied. “You can’t walk in the sand with an open wound!”

“But everyone is gonna laugh at me,” Bessie whined, hiding her face.

“Then I’ll kill them.” Howard simply said and Bessie giggled.

“Thank you for staying with me.” Bessie said softly.

“Of course,” Howard said. “I wouldn’t just leave my princess on the beach with a hook in her foot!”

“I’m glad,” Bessie closed her eyes. The panic of being stuck underwater surfaces for a moment, but then she hears the sound of Howard’s heartbeat and calmed down slightly. “Did you see Joan’s sunburn?”

“Oh yeah. That’s BAD.”

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aureumjeon · 6 years

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For all that it’s worth || PJM

♡One shot (maybe?) ♡Long distance relationship!AU ♡Idol!Jimin x Reader ♡Fluff and angst if you squint ♡Words: 4.7K

a/n: This is so fucking cheesy I might become lactose intolerant but I still enjoyed writing this so much. i = flashback except the lyrics to a bts song. [Inspiration]

“I told you I’d make it up to you.”

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I need to go now. I'll make it up to you, I promise." Jimin sweet voice tickled your ears but a small frown still made its way onto your lips. "Okay." You sighed through the phone call. "I'll call you later. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N." Jimin managed to reply before ending the call, his hyungs' voices clear in the back ground. That was the end of the 5-minute talk you had with your boyfriend for the first time in three weeks. Sometimes, when you were lucky, those 5 minutes would become 10. Text messages were no different either, he would only get the chance to send a few texts a day, good morning and goodnight texts included due to their busy schedules. Being caught up between endless promotions, interviews, and their world tour, as much as it pained you that you barely had any stable communication with him, you were more worried about if he was eating right or getting enough sleep. No matter how big the void in heart was, you promised yourself that you would never leave and go, regardless of the situation the both of you were in. You will never let go of him, of what you have. Jimin felt the same, too. He felt the same longing and loneliness you felt. He always wondered during the idle hours, if you were okay or if you were missing him as much as he misses you. Whenever he looked at his phone, a picture of you together holding sparklers on a cold new year's eve would show on the screen, making him more emotional. No matter how far apart, no matter how long the days run without you by his side, he knows that there will always be a part of him inside of you and a part of you inside of him, living on with every heartbeat.

You felt the already dim lights of your room grow darker, fading to black. Tears started to form at the corner of your eyes, making your vision blurry as you stared at the picture of you and Jimin hanging on your wall. You tried to hold them back as best as you could, you can feel your heart shudder with every breath you took. The hope you had in you was still there, shaking but surviving 'I'm here holding on' it said and sleep crept its way underneath your eyelids. Your relationship with Jimin has never been this dry, and you've been with him for 5 years now. Even before they debuted as BTS, the both of you were already madly in love. The two of you were well aware that being in a long distance relationship wasn't going to be easy as day, however, the love you felt for him was greater than the distance that stood between you and Jimin. You knew that your patience and understanding needed to be boundless when dating an Idol and you must always be the bigger person if you truly wanted to support your partner's passion and dreams. The first time you saw Jimin was on stage, for a presentation. He was selected as the center of an interpretative dance group and he immediately caught your attention. The fluidity of his movements, the emotions his face was clearly portraying with every step he made and the way his body was perfectly in tune with the music, not missing a single beat as if they were one and the same. Your mother was the designated organizer for the event, which granted you back-stage passes with your best friend only if you promise to help out with the entire show. You thank your best friend, Sana, for harassing you non-stop until you caved in and decided to attend. Because if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have met the guy you were destined to be with. You were handing out water bottles to the dancers who were already finished with their turn, there you met eyes with the raven-haired boy. He walked towards you, masculine but graceful.

Time seemed to move slower with each step he took. Everyone else around you merged with the background, their voices turned into white noise the moment he was standing in front of you.

"Hey." He voiced out, so soft and so fragile. "A-ah." You were completely flustered at the gorgeous lad.

"H-here.." You handed him the water bottle, bowing your head. "Thanks."He chuckled, noticing how cute you were.

"I'm Jimin." Your cheeks flushed bright red in surprise. "I'm... I'm Y/N. Your performance was great, by the way." You shyly stated, still avoiding eye contact cause you swore you would melt like ice on a hot summer's day right then and there.

"This is the first time I've seen you here, and I dance here a lot." He stated, taking a gulp of water from the water bottle you just gave him. His neck was glistening, coated in a sheer film of sweat. Adam's apple bobbing up and with each swallow of the liquid. You were in awe, mouth slightly agape while staring at him. He legitimately looked like a Disney prince.

"Hmm?" He added, snapping you back from whatever world you traveled to "Ah. Yeah." You tuck the piece of hair that dangled in front of your face behind your ear. "This is my first time being here. My mom's the organizer for this event." You gave a slight smile, still embarrassed. "Oh! Mrs. Y/L/N is your mom?" His face lit up at how you guys had something more to talk about rather than just the normal 'hi, hello and how are you doing?'. "She's one of my mentors! She really is a great dancer." He concluded. You felt your face burn once again. "Yeah, she is. Unfortunately, I didn't inherit her good dancing skills." You nervously replied, pointing at your feet. "I have to left feet." You giggled. "It's okay." Jimin assured you "I'm sure you are great at something else!" He chimed and scratched the back of his head. "So... Y/N" His voice was quite hesitant. "Yes?" You blinked twice wondering was he was going to say. "You seem pretty cool and..." At the moment you felt your body tense up at his words. You held your breath, anticipating what's about to come next. "Maybe we could hang out sometime?" Before you could reply to his question, you were interrupted by a very very familiar voice. "Honey!" Your mother excitedly hugged you. "The show was a success." Her gazed then met with the boy's who was standing before the both of you. She playfully quirked an eyebrow and continued "So Jimin... I see that you have met my beautiful daughter.." She smirked. "Mom! Stop it!" You pinched her arm and whispered, "You’re embarrassing me..."

"Yes, Mrs. Y/L/N. Y/N is indeed very beautiful." Jimin the gave the cutest smile you have ever seen. His eyes became thin lines, cheek puffed up like mochi and his smile deemed worthy to be called the brightest of them all. "Sly, sly fox." Your mother thought to her self. "Well. I leave my beautiful daughter in your care." And ended it with a wink before walking away. You buried your face in the palm of your hands and said "I. Am. So. Sorry." Your voice was laced with utter defeat at the tactics of your mother. Jimin can't help but laugh at everything that had happened. "No, no... It's totally fine." He managed to reply through smiling teeth. "So how 'bout our date?" He hummed. "Date?" A confused look took over your entire face. "If it's okay with you," Jimin added with a wide grin on his face. The rest was history. Readers POV; The ray of light from the sun seeped through the thin material of your bedroom curtain, causing you to rub your eyes. "Hnnn--" You stretched out your arms and grabbed your phone that was tucked under your pillow. "4 new messages and 6 missed calls" it read, all from Sana. "Wonder what's up?" You thought to yourself." Another call from your best friend popped up before you could even read the messages she sent you. "Sana?" You question, voice still hoarse. "What's up?" Sana voice was quiet and quivering "Babe.. Have you checked twitter lately?" You shook your head and replied, "No.. Why?" The tone of your voice changed "What's going on, Sana?" Your palms started to get sweaty. "You should see for yourself. I'll be there in 10. I love you, babe." Before you know is, she already hung up. You fingers were shaking uncontrollably while you were searching for the twitter icon on your phone. You immediately went to the trending page, #JiminAndGFinLA was number one. Your eyes were affixed on the small device in your hand and it felt like all the blood in your body suddenly dried up.

You felt chills run down your spine, thousands of goosebumps emerging from your skin. You hadn't prepared yourself for any of this. The Jimin you knew would never cheat on you. It took a while but you finally gathered up the courage to click the hashtag and it directed you to the many tweets about it. The most popular one sat at the top of the screen.

"Is this BTS' Jimin non-celebrity girlfriend?!" Your heart sank at the sight of the picture uploaded along with the tasteless caption.

Jimin was sitting in what seemed like a European themed restaurant and in front of him, a girl long hair and a face mask which covered 70% of her face sat. You can see the look on his face, he was smiling from ear to ear. A sight you had not seen in a long while and you miss it so bad.

Seeing some other girl make the love of your life smile like that made you inside churn with jealousy. You did not want to jump into any conclusion without consulting Jimin first. But the fact that he rarely called or texted you made your knees grow even weaker. Was he really busy with work? Or busy with this girl? Your breathing became more unstable, chest rapidly moving up and down.

You pressed one, and called Jimin the first time, he did not answer. You tried again for the second time, still no answer. After several tries, you lost count at 14, he did not answer. You also tried to text him, not one of you many texts have been marked as read.

You threw your phone as hard as you can and aimed it at the picture hanging on the wall, the impact broke the glass and the picture frame flew off. Your arms and legs felt limp and lifeless. You curled up in the middle of your bed and watched all the things you built for 5 fucking years fall apart in an instant. You screamed at the top of your lungs while tears continuously streamed down your face. Your door swung open and it was Sana. "Y/N.." She stormed inside and pulled you in a big hug. " Sorry I took so long." She hummed while patting your back, trying to calm you down. "I bought drinks, ice cream, and snacks!" she cheerfully said. "And a pair of my pajamas which means I'll be staying over tonight!" She added. You couldn't help but smile at your best friend simple but kind gesture. She always knew how to cheer you up. Apart from Jimin, Sana also meant the world to you. And having her as a best friend was absolutely a god given gift.

Jimin POV;

The moment Jimin walked back into the shared hotel room, he was bombarded with questions. "Hyung, Where have you been??" Their maknae asked. "I had lunch at a restaurant nearby. Why'd you ask?" He furrowed his brows and gave his junior a concerned look. The youngest did not answer back, instead, he showed his phone, the picture of him and the mystery girl on screen. "What?" He exclaimed. "I swear, these goddamn papzz always take it too far with fake news and rumors." Jimin combed his fingers through his hair.

"Your phone has been ringing non-stop, too" The blonde haired guy sitting on the bed interrupted. "I think it was Y/N-noona calling." Jimin's eye exploded and he walked toward his phone that was plugged in. He unlocked the screen and saw 28 missed call and 32 messages all from you. "Fuck!!" He yelled, startling the two boys who were also inside the room. "Fuck fuck fuck." He muttered, walking back and forth with his phone against his ear, desperately trying to contact you. "Shit!!" He grunted in frustration. "Jiminie Hyung, are you okay?" The blonde hair lad asked.

"I'm fine, Tae. It's Y/N I'm worried about." He heavily sighed "I think she might have misunderstood the whole Twitter situation... I shouldn't have left my phone here." "Don't worry, hyung." The maknae of the group threw his arm around Jimin's shoulder. "It's Y/N-noona we're talking about." His voice was smooth and had a calming effect on Jimin. "I'm sure she was just shocked at the shit that trended on Twitter, we all were. But noona, I know she knows better." Jimin released a sigh of relief at the comforting words of his dongsae.

He ruffled Jungkook's hair and said "Thanks. I never thought words like that would ever come out of your mouth. " "Pffft." The younger boy replied snickering. "I know, I surprise myself, too." The three of them laughed at the boy's antics. "Guess I’ll try to contact Y/N... Thanks, Tae and Kook." Jimin walked to the balcony and dialed your name religiously until his phone ran out of battery.

Reader’s POV;

"Babe... That's your fifth bottle of beer, I know you are upset but that's too much..." Sana pleaded you to stop chugging beer like it was water. "Please... Just this once." You whined, your words sounded gibberish to the next person, luckily Sana understood your drunken lingo. "I love him, Sana. I love him with all my heart!" You sobbed while stuffing chips in your mouth like there was no tomorrow. "I know, babe. I know." She replied while drawing circles on your back. You can no longer control your emotions, the alcohol in your system kicked in and completely took over.

"We promised each other that whatever push and pull life may bring us, I will always be his and he will always be mine forever.." The was a sudden pause, you felt your throat go dry and added: " and more." You mumbled, mouth still full of chips. Sana knew better than to interrupt your onslaught of emotion, she knew that it was better for you to cry it out rather than keep it inside. "If my love was a sea, he'd be fucking drowning in it right now.." Your voice cracked as a hiccup escaped your throat "After all that I've-hic done for him, is it-hic ever enough?" you hiccuped the words out.

"Calm down, babe." She hummed, pulling you to rest your head on her lap. "I'm sure Jimin loves you a lot." She brushed her finger through your hair. "You haven't even heard his side yet." She added. "I know this is a lot to handle but at least have a little in faith Jimin, Okay? I know he loves you, and you love him too." Sana sang to you with her gentle voice, coaxing you to shut your eyes and finally go to sleep.

Jimin's POV;

Jimin felt discouraged with you not answering his calls. His mind was all over the place, he could no longer think straight. His head was filled with you. He could not stop thinking about the state you were in right now with all the rumors floating about. He knows you better than anyone else, he knows that you're probably sitting in the corner of your room in a fetal position, crying yourself to sleep. He felt so bad that he could be there to clear things up and comfort you and he felt terrible knowing that he was the one who made you feel this way, If he could beat himself up he would do it no questions asked.

Jimin pulled himself together and went back inside the room. "How'd it go, hyung?" Jungkook asked. He simply shook his head and pursed his lips into a thin line. "I'll ask Namjoon hyung for advice.." Jimin said, making his way through to the door and exiting the room.

Three knock was all it took for Namjoon to open the door. "Oh, Jimin." He had a surprised look on his face. "What's up?" Namjoon added while guiding Jimin by the shoulder and leading him inside. "Hey, Jimin." The pastel green haired boy greeted.

"Hey, Yoongi hyung." Jimin replied back and sat beside him. "I think I know why you're here." the older guy next to him stated. "Twitter?" Yoongi blandly asked and Jimin sighed, accompanied with a slight nod. "Cheer up, Kid." The elder guy massaged his neck and shoulders to loosen the tension in his muscles. "And Y/N?" The silver-haired hyung asked the restless lad. "That's the problem." Jimin’s voice was cracked, he sounded like he was on the verge of bursting into tears. "She hasn't returned any of my calls and text messages." He paused, trying to hold back the tears. "How am I supposed to clear things up with Y/N if she isn't answering my call and replying to my messages?" He swiftly brought his hands up to his eyes and wiped the wetness away with the sleeve of his sweater.

"Give her some time, Jimin. If I were in Y/N's shoes, I would be overwhelmed with the situation too." RM tried to comfort Jimin. "And I think I have an Idea, but we still need to consult with Bang PD-nim and get his permission to be able to pull it off." Their leader held out his hand in front of the boy. "We'll help you, Jimin." His smile was sincere, dimples on both sides of his cheek showing. "That's what brother's do." And he then pulled Jimin in for a tight hug.

Fast forward to the day of their concert in LA, you still had no intention of contacting Jimin because you were truly heartbroken. You spent your time unproductively, wasting it by watching anime season after season and binge-eating whatever junk food you found in you unkempt fridge. Sana, your best friend, kept you company the whole time. Only leaving your house when she needed to fetch a few things from her own. Without her, you'd probably be dead by now, with flies circling around you.

It always great having someone you can rely on near you, unlike a certain someone you thought to yourself. "Babe." Sana tugged on the sleeve of your shirt. "Jimin sent me a link." She added. "With a message attached 'Please tell Y/N I love her and I miss her.' "

With wide eyes, you took the tablet from her hand and asked awkwardly "Should I open it?" Sana playfully pinched your arm and replied "Well duh, what do you want to do with it? Stare at it for an hour?" She giggled. With fast hands, she clicked the link Jimin sent you and it opened to a private live stream of their concert in LA.

Both of you gasped in confusion while looking at each other. "W--what's this all about?" You questioned, voice weary. "I don’t know but let's just watch." Your eyes were focused on the screen. You saw the seven boys in a straight line formation with Jimin in the center. "Hey, Army.." His voice sounded exhausted. "This wasn't part of the original set but I asked Bang PD-nim's permission and he said, It was alright." Before continued, he released a heavy sigh. "You, our dear Army, brought us to where we are today. Without you, we wouldn't have been the BTS that we are today."

You were clueless to what was about to happen so you kept your eyes glued to the screen. "I love our ARMY and like I've said plenty of times before, I want to be completely honest with you guys all the time." He stopped and bowed his head for a second while Jin was patting him on the back. He lifted up his head and went on with his speech

"As you guys may have seen on twitter and to answer all of your questions.. Yes, I do have a girlfriend." The whole stadium went silent, and your reaction was no different from theirs. Your jaw dropped to the ground while you squeezed the life out of Sana's poor hand. "But it isn't the girl in the picture, that was my cousin. I wanted to clear this issue myself and stop things from getting out of hand. And what better way than to announce it here. I know our Armys love us, I hope you love Y/N as much as I love her."

A picture of you and Jimin flashed on the big LED screen behind them, the audience burst a synchronized 'awwwww.’ at his sweet gesture. Your hands went ice cold, trembling. This is it, Jimin was publicly announcing his relationship with you, and during a concert too. After more than 5 years of keeping a low profile, long-distance relationship and uncertainties of what the future holds for the two of you, you felt that knot in your chest unravel with his outspoken words. You were now free to express your love for him and vice versa. You can feel your heart ready to jump out our chest at any given moment.

"Y/N.." Jimin looked straight at the camera, knowing that you were watching him. "I'm sorry for everything. I know that both of us are hanging on the line, needing more than ifs and maybes. Sometimes we feel as though we're on top of the world, and other times we feel ourselves come down from the highest high still searching for the reason why we keep on holding on.. Trust me, I know how you feel."

He cleared his throat before he continued."I know what it's like reaching from the other side. Trying so hard to hold onto the things that I know is impossible from where I am currently standing but all that I've done for you, I would do it again in a heartbeat and more. I promised you Y/N... I will always be yours, forever. I love you." His speech ended with the beginning of their older song "Hold me tight."

You listened to the song with your heart open, taking in every word like your life depended on it.

I can only see is you I can only see is you alone Look, I'm fair with everyone else but you Now I can't live a day without you.

You remembered all the times that Jimin would sing those words to you. He would go on and on about it being his favorite song from their previous album because it reminded him of how much he misses you whenever he was on tour.

Hold me tight, hug me Can you trust me, can you trust me can you trust me Pull me in tight

The camera pans to Jimin, his eyes were glistening. The effect of the stage’s light made this moment more magical, ethereal even. Jimin looked like an angel that descended from the heavens that were destined to be your guardian.

Hold me tight, hug me Can you trust, can you trust me Please, please, please pull me in and hug me

All those sweet memories came down like an avalanche, drowning you in the sweet sensation you have come to love. Now it was clear to you why you always made it work and why you kept on hanging on. Whatever the pain and loneliness you felt; whatever life threw at you; no matter how many time you tripped and fall; You would always get back up and shake it off.

Without you, I can't breath I'm nothing without you Open my closed heart, drench my heart So I can feel you hold me The way Jimin sang his part pulled on your heart strings causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. You knew that he wasn't singing for anyone else but you. His voice was sincere, filled with emotions and even with the distance between you, you felt it. You felt all of it. Every single word that came out of his mouth went straight through you. The holes that manifested in your heart was patched up in an instant.

Now trust me, hold me once again So I can feel you, hold me.

After days of sulking and despair, a smile appeared on your face. Even if your cheeks were stained with tears, you felt genuinely happy. All the worries that clouded your heart and mind were lifted off with just one song. You felt a sigh of relief climb up your throat and escape your lips.

Your best friend, who was also crying, hugged you. "See." She whimpered through her tears. "I told you Jimin loves you." You nodded and hugged her back.

The next couple of days went by fast. The 10-minute talk with your boyfriend was enough to remind you everything was perfectly mended back together. You think of ways on how to make you 6th Anniversary more special even if your boyfriend was miles away.

You had planned on making dinner at your home while face timing with Jimin. "Y/N.." Sana called out to you from the living room. "Yes?" You answered back while washing the vegetables on the kitchen sink. "Help me pick out a dress." You best friend stated. You walked out of the kitchen drying your hands with a small towel. "For what occasion?" You questioned. "For you, babe." She said, looking at her phone. "Since It's your 6th Anniversary with Jimin, I want to gift you a little something something..." She smiled.

"You know you don't have too." You replied with a smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. Sana stood up from where she standing and headed to your direction. She held out her hands out, reaching for your wrist. "There's a nice shop just a few blocks away. Please Please.." She pouted, puppy dog eyes and all. "Let me treat you on your special day."

You can never say no to that face. "Alright alright." You chuckled. "Let me change first. She pumped her fist in the air in excitement "Yeah!"

The car ride to the shop was pleasant, filled with small talk between best friends. “Here!” Sana exclaimed. You pulled the car over and looked at the shop through the window. A large high-end boutique shop stood stall. “This looks expensive..” you nervously stressed. “Can we afford this?”

“You don’t have to worry about anything, Y/N. I got you covered.” She winked while stepping out of the car. You simply followed her, taking small steps behind her back.

It took both of you at least 20 minutes of trying on and taking off dresses until you found the perfect one. You looked at the price tag and was flabbergasted. You tugged at Sana shirt and pointed “Are you sure? This is expensive.” Scratching your arm.

“I told you. I got you!” She beamed. “And you look great.”

Sana paid for your dress, she insisted that you keep it on for ‘Part 2′ of your surprise. “This time, I’m driving.” She firmly stated and you did not argue as you were feeling thrilled like a little child going to Disney land.

You arrived at a fancy 5-star hotel, Sana held your hand the entire time, guiding you inside. You were awestruck at the interior of the building. The both of you stood before two closed doors. “What are you waiting for? Go inside!” your best friend insisted. You were quite reluctant at first but you trust Sana with whatever the hell she was plotting.

You knocked on the door, grabbed the handle and slowly pushed it open. There, right before you, standing beautiful and fair holding a huge bouquet in his arms was your one and only boyfriend, Jimin. The room was filled with flowers of a different kind, candle lights that were too many to count, A live band playing “Hold me tight.” elegantly. You did not have to think twice and ran towards him, meeting him with a warm embraced. “I told you I’d make it up to you.” He then leaned closer and placed a kiss on your forehead.

End. uwu

Every comment, heart, reblog is very very much appreciated. I love u and i love bts

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marvel-ous-fan · 6 years

Text

A Strange Encounter (Doctor Strange x Reader) Chapter 4

Summary: you are just an average girl in the Big Apple but one day everything changes when you meet a very interesting and rather... strange man.

A/N: Okay so the restaurant in this chapter is actually a real place in New York and I recommend looking it up because it’s beautiful and my description can’t capture the beauty.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2155

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

read on AO3

Previously in A Strange Encounter - Chapter 3

7:30, tomorrow night, look nice. Those words were running through your head and suddenly you couldn’t sleep. You spent almost an hour trying to think of something nice to wear in your head. Would you wear a nice top and slack? You thought about the look, realizing it was too Hilary of you. Next was to browse your dresses. You went through every dress you had in your head trying to figure out the perfect combo to go with. It wasn’t long until you got tired of your overthinking and drifted off to sleep.

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You woke up earlier than usual, 30 minutes before your alarm was set to go off. You couldn’t tell if it was because you were so excited to see Stephen tonight or because you were so uncomfortable the way you were sprawled out on the couch. You looked over to Bianca's bed where she was sleeping soundly, a little peeved that she didn’t wake you up when she got home so you could go to your own bed. You brushed it off as you walked over to the bathroom to get ready for what was about to be the longest work day of your life.

You couldn’t concentrate, the whole day was spent thinking about Stephen and the elusive plans, date? You weren’t sure what to call it yet but that didn’t stop you from the excitement. You practically ran home after your rehearsal and jumped straight into the shower, you had an hour and a half to get ready and no time to waste. You checked your phone frequently to see if Stephen would shoot you a text before hand but so far there was nothing. You were starting to get nervous as it got later and he hadn’t texted you, did he remember? Is he going to cancel? You brushed away the thoughts as you picked out an outfit.

Even after almost 30 minutes of thinking about what to wear the night before, it still took you what felt like five years to get ready. You knew you were probably overthinking it, but was it really so bad to want to look your best? You ended up deciding on a navy blue halter bodycon dress that you had bought off some cheap website but looked surprisingly good. You slipped on some black peep toe heels and walked over to the mirror to see how you looked.

You tried a million different hair styles before settling on leaving your hair down, it wasn’t your ideal look but it would have to do. Suddenly you heard your phone buzz, practically sprinting to the other side of the room to see if Stephen had finally texted you.

“I hope you didn’t forget about our little randevu, be there in 30 minutes.”

You squealed as you read the text, hoping that these next 30 minutes would fly by fast, but they didn’t.

You spent your time doing simple tasks, cleaning up around the apartment. You figured it would be a nice distraction and it was also something you had been putting off for a while. As you were cleaning you started imagining what it would be like to have Stephen over. This is when the cleaning turned from leasurly to panicked, realising your apartment was in no shape to have company and the thought of even considering bringing him over after whatever this was tonight was enough to get you into a frenzy.

You were so distracted by the cleaning that you didn’t notice that your phone had buzzed. It wasn’t until five minutes after the missed notification that you heard a knock on the door. You looked up from your current state of being slung over a pile of clothes on Bianca’s side of the room. You yelled out “Just a minute!” as you quickly shoved the clothes under her bed.

You ran over to the door, slightly out of breath, you composed yourself before undoing the lock and opening the door. As you opened the door, what you saw before you was a sight that would make any woman weak. Stephen stood before you, dressed in a slimming black suit and tie with lavender roses in his hand. You stood there speechless until he finally broke the silence.

“Wow, you look stunning.” he said with the biggest smile.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” you replied, of course lying because he looked damn near perfect.

“Yes well, um… I brought you these, I do hope you’re not allergic.” he said with a nervous laugh as he held the roses out to you. You took them with a smile as you walked into the kitchen to grab a vase from under the sink.

“Well this is quite the little apartment you have here,” Stephen called out from the doorway, “are you going to invite me in?” You looked at him with a smile, cheeks red from embarrassment.

“Yes… yes of course my bad.” you said as you walked over to Stephen, putting the flowers onto the table as you passed it by.

You motioned for him to come in as you closed the door. “Well, this is my apartment, not much to see.” you giggled as he looked around. “How did you know my apartment number anyway? Did Bianca tell you?”

“No,” he responded quickly, “actually I was sitting in my car waiting for you when I looked up and saw you through the window, frantically running like a chicken with its head cut off. I figured you looked so flustered and busy that you hadn’t read my text, so I decided to knock, your neighbor buzzed me in.”

You were both surprised and embarrassed at this turn of events, but you decided not to show it and instead poke fun at Stephen.

“Well well we are quite the detective aren’t we?” you asked him sarcastically.

“Please, I am no Sherlock Holmes, I just noticed the obvious. Now, we should get going, we don’t want to be late.” He said this with a wink as he turned to walk out the door.

“And where exactly are we going that we don’t want to be late for?” you were very curious as to where the night would take you.

“Now now, let’s not ruin surprises.” he said as you rolled your eyes, following him out the door and down to his car.

“You know, I’m not going to get in this thing unless you drive the speed limit, are we clear on that?” you were very stern with your tone, as much as you wanted to go on this date, you did not want to die in the process.

“Don’t worry, you have my word.” he said as he opened your door for you before running around to the other side of the car to get in.

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You pulled up to a small restaurant just under the Brooklyn Bridge called the River Cafe. It was beautiful, flowers and trees everywhere, vines growing all around the entrance of the little white building, it looked like something out of a dream. As you walked in with Stephen, you couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the beauty of the restaurant, this was no cheap dining experience and the thought of how much this was about to cost you started to make your stomach churn.

The overwhelming feeling went away as you sat at the table and looked out at the view. You could see the New York City skyline as the sun was setting and lights were coming on, it was breathtaking.

The two of you looked over the menu as you sat together at the table, Stephen seeming completely unfazed by the prices, you on the other hand couldn’t even look at it.

“Um… Stephan.” you whispered leaning in towards him and propping the menu as a makeshift barricade, not wanting to be too loud and have other people in the restaurant hear you.

He looked up from his menu, answering back in a whispered tone to match yours as he leaned in toward you. “Yes (Y/N) what is it?”

“Well um, it’s not a big deal but… uh… these plates are $138… per person…” you felt embarrassed bringing up the price being an issue with you, but you couldn’t help it. You had always tried to save your money wherever you could, and tonight, as nice as this date may be, was no exception.

“Oh please (Y/N),” he said in a caring tone as he leaned up off the table and placed a hand on yours, “don’t worry about the price, tonight's on me.”

You looked at him with a concerned face, “Are you sure? That’s a lot of money and I don’t want y-”

“Please,” he cut you off before you could even finish your sentence, “I want you to enjoy, not worry about the price, it’s nothing for me really.” he said this with a reassuring smile. You felt your body relax at this and once again opened your menu.

------------------------------

The night went so smoothly and perfectly you would think it was straight out of a movie. The conversations flowed so effortlessly, the two of you talked about where you grew up, your time in school, talking a lot about his time in med school and all the degrees he had and other random little stories that would come up. At the end of the night you felt like you really knew him, he was no longer the strange man you met at the bar but now a friend, and hopefully more than that if things went well.

As the two of you walked out you thanked him for an amazing dinner and night, but he smiled at you and chuckled. “Oh the night isn’t over yet.”

“It’s not?” you were now really confused, what more could there be to do? It was already 10:30 and you were starting to feel a little tired.

“Just get in the car, you’ll see.”

And with that the two of you were off again.

------------------------------

You laughed as you pulled up to the parking lot. “Really? The bar from last week?”

“What? I thought it would be a romantic gesture, a nice ending to our date.” He said playfully trying to defend himself.

“Ah so it is a date that we’re on.” you said teasingly as the two of you walked up to the door.

“Of course it’s a date, I don’t spend $200 on all of my friends meals.” he teased you as he stopped you just before the door. “I don’t usually kiss them either.”

“Excuse me if I’m mistaken but I don’t thi-” your snarky comment was stopped by the sudden crash of Stephens lips against yours. Yours eyes widened at the sudden action but slowly closed as you relaxed and sank into it. The kiss started off so gentle and then turned to passionate as he slowly put one hand on your back and one supporting your neck, pulling you in closer toward him.

As you broke apart you were speechless. “Well,” you finally said, “shall we go get a drink?” and with that Stephen opened the door for you.

------------------------------

Your time at the bar was almost better than your time at the restaurant. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that you were having a drink or because of the kiss, but something was enhancing the experience.

You and Stephen spent two hours just telling stories and laughing together and it felt amazing. Just in this night you really got to know who he was and you were liking it. After finishing your drink you looked over at Stephen with a curious look.

“Hey…” you stumbled over your words, “you’ve only had one drink this whole night.” he laughed at you in your drunken state.

“Yeah, that would be because I am in charge of getting you home safely.” he said with the cutest grin you had ever seen. “And I think that time to go home is about right now… Excuse me?” he motioned over the bartender to get the check.

“Wait no no no,” you protested, “let me at least pay for my own drinks.” you said as you fumbled with your purse trying to get the clasp open.

Stephen placed his hand over yours signaling you to stop as you looked up at him. “Please, I’ve got it this time.” and with that he put down his card and a short while after the two of you were off.

Stephen helped you walk to the car as you fumbled in your heels. He helped you into the car, buckled you in, and placed a kiss on your forehead, you couldn’t help but smile like a fool at the gesture. “Alright, let’s get you home.” he said as he got into the driver's seat and started the car.

“Wait no you can’t take me home, Bianca is gonna KILL me if I come home drunk. She hates when I go out drinking without her.”

“I think she’ll understand this once.” Stephen said to you with a very loving tone.

“No she’s gonna be so mad, can I just crash at your place?” you said with the biggest pout. Stephens face looked shocked.

“Yeah okay you can spend the night.” He said as he pulled out of the parking lot and started his drive home. You smiled at him and slowly closed your eyes as you started to fall asleep.

------------------------------

Thanks for reading <3

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emoboijk · 6 years

Text

Jeon Jeongguk—To Know a Person (05)

You’ve been calling, texting, emailing for years. But is that really enough to know a person? You’re about to find out. —fluff and angst

01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 :: 08 :: 09 :: 10 :: 11 :: epilogue

3,356 words

gif cred

You were supposed to meet at the Cheonggyecheon Stream at 11:00 AM.

You arrived at 9:45 AM, Mark scowling the entire time. “I told you,” he said, hands shoved into his pockets, “it wouldn’t take an hour and a half to get here.”

“I didn’t want to risk it.” You chewed on your bottom lip absently, eyes scanning the visible length of the stream on both sides. Maybe he had shown up early too?

“He’s not here early,” Mark scowled again, “No one in their right mind would arrive over an hour early for plans.”

You turned away from the stream, forgetting your predicament for a moment and smirking at him, “Are you trying to tell me I’m not in my right mind?”

Mark forgot to be irritated and smirked, “Yeah, basically.” You slapped him lightly on the chest and sank onto a bench. Mark settled next to you and sighed.

You watched a fountain burst to life in the stream below you, splattering a couple of children playing on its concrete banks. They giggled loudly, a harsh sound on your ears which were so determined to be pessimistic. You pulled out your phone and opened his messages.

Okay, tomorrow

Jungkook—고맙습니다 고맙습니다 고맙습니다! 청계천? 11?

You had typed back, confused:

청계천?

Jungkook—It’s like a river? You’ll love it, I promise!

You hadn’t responded after that. Sitting in front of it now, you knew Jungkook had messed up his translation. And Mark explained that it was a stream, not a river. Much more accurate.

You hated yourself for feeling as if this were proof that you couldn’t trust Jungkook. But the thought sat comfortably in your mind, despite your trying to shake it loose.

“Do you think I’ll ever trust him again?” you wondered, not taking your eyes from the gentle, calming flow of the water.

“I don’t know,” Mark sighed, “Do you want to trust him again?”

You turned to look at him, Mark’s expression serious as you responded, “I don’t know.”

He nodded, “All I know is that it’s your choice. Either you trust him again or you don’t. You just have to make the decision and commit.” His words hung in the air for a long moment, before he finally got to his feet, “I’m going to get some food. You staying here?”

“You guessed it,” you joked. Mark chuckled and made his way to a vendor a few yards away. Your stomach growled loudly and you winced. You hadn’t eaten anything today, you were so nervous. But you weren’t about to get up from this bench and possibly miss Jungkook, an hour early or not.

I’m here really early

Jungkook—You too?

You couldn’t help but smile nervously:

You’re here?

Jungkook—Maybe…;)

You were smiling despite yourself. Sitting here, texting him...it was almost as if nothing had changed. And, in a way, you realized, nothing really had. He just...wasn’t who you thought he was. The memory of the airport was like a bucket of ice water, bringing you back to reality.

Jungkook—Where are you?

You looked around, twisting your neck back and forth as if you’d spot him right behind you. When that failed, you looked for some kind of marker. You didn’t know the streets and the buildings were unfamiliar.

I’m by a bridge?

Jungkook—There are twenty-two bridges ㅋㅋㅋㅋ What shops are nearby?

You listed off a couple, typing their names carefully, your hands shaking as your heart raced with anticipation. When you were on the plane you thought there would never be a moment when you were that nervous, but you were wrong. Meeting him here, knowing who he actually was...you felt like you were going to puke.

Mark returned with a giant plate of something fried and your stomach churned. You scrunched up your nose and said, “Get away from me with that stuff.”

“What?” Mark said, looking offended, “This is delicious!”

“I’m going to throw up,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. Mark rolled his eyes but took a step back nonetheless.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he said, sitting next to you when it was clear that you weren’t actually going to vomit. He used his chopsticks to take a giant bite of his food, and you leaned against his arm hopelessly, feeling limp and boneless.

“Hey,” a voice said, and you opened your eyes, sitting up from your position on Mark. Mark paused with his chopsticks raised to his mouth, stuffed with food. Jungkook stood in front of you, his phone in his hand. He wore a thick, insulated jacket and a hurt expression, still clearly visible despite the mask covering his face. His eyes were open and innocent, like that day in the airport, his emotions clearly visible within them. You wondered, in the back of your mind, if there was an ounce of steel in his body.

“Hi,” you almost barked, leaping up from your position on the bench. Your cheeks were pink from the cold and the embarrassment, “This is...this is Mark.”

“We’ve met,” Jungkook said, glancing very quickly from you to him and back again, “Once or twice.”

Mark swallowed his food with a loud gulp.

You saw the jealousy take root in his expression and the vain part of you was slightly pleased. You hid your smile and tried to make your face unreadable. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Jungkook nodded, “More than anything,” he said honestly. He turned around and you noticed his companion for the first time, someone you instantly recognized as Min Yoongi. “You don’t have to wait, hyung.”

Yoongi shrugged and said in soft Korean, “I’m getting some food. See ya later.” And he walked over to the stand Mark had just gone to, making it clear that he would be waiting. You saw in his expression as he passed you that he didn’t trust you very much. You didn’t blame him, after the way things had gone at the airport.

You turned to Mark and spoke in English, “Would you mind hanging out for a bit?” If things didn’t go well, like a big part of you hoped they would, you would need Mark to be here. He shrugged and kept eating. You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Thanks.”

You turned to Jungkook and asked quietly in Korean, “Ready?”

He nodded and there was a long pause that you filled in with a soft laugh, “I don’t know where to go.”

Jungkook laughed loudly and awkwardly, “Right! Okay, right, yes, this way,” he was muttering rapidly in anxious Korean. You liked the sound—he was cute when flustered, and he spoke so fluidly in Korean that it pleased your ear in an entirely different way then the pleasantness brought on by his sometimes choppy, accented English.

He led you down the stairs so that you were directly in front of the stream, on the concrete sidewalks that lined it. And when there you set a slow and even pace, footsteps matched perfectly without any effort from either of you. All of your efforts were expended in trying to make conversation.

“You...wanted to explain?” you whispered, looking first at your feet and then at the bridge you were approaching.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, all of his nerves sizzling with the intensity of his anxiety. He’d stood in front of his mirror at home, trying to prepare his words in the right order to convince you, to make you understand. All of that was gone now, his mind a blank page.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered because that’s what it all boiled down to. He was sorry. “I was...protecting myself.” He had switched to Korean because everything he had rehearsed was gone, and he felt exposed and vulnerable. He didn’t have the mental capacity to translate his thoughts right now.

“I know,” you whispered, and the words stopped him dead in his tracks. The innocent-bunny expression had returned.

“Do you?”

You nodded, feeling tears born of anxiety and stress and the cold pricking your eyes, “I do get it. But...it’s been five years, Jungkook. Didn’t you start to trust me...even a little?”

“Of course!” he said, ducking his head after his sudden exclamation, avoiding the gazes of people who had turned in surprise. “I was afraid things would change if I told you who I was. And then I had sent those pictures…”

You shook your head, smiling slightly as you forgot once again the predicament you were in, “Where did you find those anyway?”

Jungkook forgot too for a moment, laughing at himself and tousling his hair, “Actually my hyungs helped me find them online.”

“Oh my god,” you chuckled, “Stupid,” you whispered in English. He furrowed his brow, not having heard you. You grinned and spoke up, in Korean, “Babo.”

“Oh,” Jungkook blushed. And another long silence settled between you both. Another bucket of ice water on your emotions. “I was stupid,” he agreed, “I should’ve told you.”

“Yes,” you said, punching his arm playfully, “You should have. It’s not like things weren’t eventually going to change. I mean, it’s not like things are the same right now anyway, even with the stupid pictures.”

Jungkook frowned, “You’re right.”

You smirked at him and squeezed his bicep, “I’m always right.” He looked up from the ground and smiled at you, feeling hopeful for the first time since the airport. You were lost in his expression for a moment, a warm feeling spreading from your chest to the tips of your toes and fingers.

“What does this mean?” Jungkook whispered. And at the same time, he knew but didn’t know, what he was referring to. Yet, you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I think it means...we should try.”

“Try?” Jungkook’s face lit up like a paper lantern, a glow just beneath the surface that suffused and illuminated his surroundings.

“We can,” you paused, eyes searching his face, relishing in the happiness you found there, “We can rebuild trust.”

“Try,” Jungkook smiled, a permanent mark of happiness alight in his eyes. He held out his hand for you and you slipped your fingers into his grasp. His fingers wove through yours and you felt...at home. You pulled him towards you in a sudden moment of impulsivity, your arms circling him and squeezing. He stood shocked for a moment, his body tense, before his arms lowered, tired from not having touched you, and he settled into the moment.

“Jeongguk,” you whispered into his chest, feeling as if you recognized him for the first time.

When you walked back up, Mark and Yoongi were sitting on a bench together with empty plates, barely speaking. They both stood when you and Jungkook arrived, hand in hand. They both smirked at that. You blushed and looked at the ground when you said, “So, I guess I’m moving out.”

Mark smiled, “Well finally,” he joked, ruffling your hair.

“Hey,” you whined.

“Oh,” Jungkook said, tugging on your hand to get your attention. “This is Yoongi-hyung, Yoongi this is…”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and smiled, “I know, kid. You only talk about her every waking moment.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook said, hiding his face behind his hand, but not letting go of yours with the other. Yoongi bowed to you respectfully and you repeated the action.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said quietly, stumbling over the pronunciation of the Korean words that still felt boxy in your mouth.

Yoongi returned the sentiment and let his eyes drift between the two of you, recognizing the energy that existed there. You both kept glancing self-consciously at one another, meeting each other’s eyes, laughing awkwardly and repeating the cycle. All the while, holding hands.

“What’s the plan?” Yoongi said, breaking the puppy-love bubble that caged you both.

You furrowed your brows and glanced at Mark, “I have to get my stuff, huh?”

Mark chuckled and nodded, “That would probably be best.”

“Why don’t you guys go back to the apartment and get her things, and then you can drop her off at our place?” Yoongi offered. Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened and his expression was troubled. He was tensing at the idea of being separated from you—he’d only had half an hour, and already you were supposed to say goodbye. That didn’t sound like a good idea at all.

You weren’t overly fond of it either. You were afraid that with even the smallest distance, doubtful, negative thoughts might creep back into your mind. Thoughts that couldn’t be sustained in the presence of Jungkook’s wide, soft eyes, and warm hands. Because right now you couldn’t imagine being with any other person in the world, you couldn’t imagine your best friend Jeongguk being anybody else. But what about when you were alone? Would this feeling last?

You didn’t know. And you weren’t eager to find out.

“Makes sense,” Mark agreed, turning to the two of you, the now inseparable pair. Logically, when he thought about it, Mark thought it ridiculous that the two of you had created such a serious attachment after such a short period of time (even after considering the five-year foundation it was built on). But being with you two, Mark wondered how you’d ever been apart.

“Okay,” you said hesitantly, stuttering a little bit. Jungkook squeezed your hand so tightly that you looked up at him, his eyes wide. You frowned and tried to plead with him silently. He frowned and sighed, wanting desperately to kiss you as a way of saying ‘goodbye’ but knowing that you barely trusted him in the first place, he couldn’t just start...putting the moves on you.

Not to mention, he didn’t particularly want his first kiss with you to be in front of any of his hyungs (let alone Yoongi) and some relative stranger.

Instead, he pulled you into a brief, hopefully casual hug before stepping back and giving you space. Yoongi almost laughed at the forced air of casualness the interchange had. Especially because, while he had backed away from you, Jungkook had still not let go of your hand.

You smiled at him and said, “I’ll see you in an hour.”

“An hour,” Jungkook confirmed, omitting the fact that he would literally be counting the minutes. As cliché as that was. You nodded, chewing on your lip absently, before turning, slipping your hand from his and following Mark back to where he’d parked the car.

“An hour,” Jungkook repeated as he watched you leave, and then he said it three more times in Korean as if to calm himself down.

“So it went well?” Yoongi smirked, overjoyed that things were working out for his dongsaeng but also thrilled to have a little bit of leverage on him. The maknae was good at basically everything so things to tease him about were often hard to come by. But the thick layers of puppy-love coating him now would work just fine.

“She wants to try,” Jungkook said, smiling as he remembered the playful interchange, so familiar in its intimacy, but frowning as he realized how vague ‘trying’ was. “It’s not a lot. But it is something.”

“You love her,” Yoongi said, “Give it time. She’ll realize it.”

Jungkook didn’t deny it, only silently hoped that his hyung was right.

Back at the GOT7 apartment, Jinyoung was pleased to hear that everything had gone well with you and Jungkook. He was also pleased because he’d be able to relax in the apartment again, without any new female presence.

You hadn’t stayed there long so it didn’t take long for you to gather your things, less than fifteen minutes. But you did take a moment, standing in their living room, Jinyoung reading something on the couch, to recognize that you were in GOT7’s apartment. Millions of people would love to be standing here right now, and you were here because of random chance and heartbreak.

“Ready to go?” Mark said, keys dangling from his finger. He twirled them around his pointer finger and said, “Y’know I think you should reimburse me for all this gas I’m using on you.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, following him out the door, shouldering your bag and rolling your luggage behind you, “If anything I’ll pay you in tears.”

“Aish,” he said, showing his colors as a true K-Pop idol, “Fine, you were sad, I’ll let it go.”

“You are making me carry all of my own bags,” you grinned, “If that makes you feel better.”

“You know,” he said, “it kind of does.” He moved to take the duffle from you, carrying it easily out of the complex.

You texted Jungkook for the address and arrived in twenty minutes flat. He and Yoongi met you outside. Yoongi was shivering in just pajama pants, slippers and sweatshirt, his hands shoved into his pockets. Jungkook was dressed just as lightly but was bouncing up and down on his feet excitedly.

He’d been preparing for weeks for your arrival, somehow not anticipating your negative reaction at all. Jungkook had not wanted you to sleep on the couch, so he gave up his bed (unbeknownst to you) and would be taking the sofa himself. He’d cleaned every inch of his room for you, put out all of his best pictures with the guys, moved books that he thought would make him seem intelligent to the forefront of his dresser space. He even perfectly arranged the files on his desktop computer so that, should you decide to browse, you’d see impressive videos of him singing or dancing.

Jungkook had literally done everything he could think of to make a good first impression on you. It seemed even more important now than ever.

Mark pulled up in front of them and you slipped out of the passenger side happily. Without thinking about it Jungkook engulfed you in a bear hug, whispering honestly, “I missed you.” You thought he might’ve been talking about more than just the past hour. But you returned the sentiment sincerely. You’d missed him in the twelve hours you’d gone without talking.

Sitting back and hearing your own thoughts, you thought absently about how dramatic this whole situation was. A little bit too much, really.

Yoongi met Mark at the car and helped him get the stuff out. As Yoongi shouldered your duffle and started rolling your bag upstairs, Mark slammed the car door loudly as a way of interrupting your quiet scene with Jungkook.

You turned away from Jungkook and walked towards Mark. He met you with open arms and you hugged him tightly, “Thank you for everything,” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes.

Mark ignored them and ruffled your hair again, feeling somewhat sad himself, “Keep in touch, okay?” You nodded that you would and Mark walked back to the car, waved and drove away. It dawned on him, as he drove, that he’d only known you for two days. It didn’t feel like it.

You watched the car drive away before walking slowly back to Jungkook. He had his hand extended and you skipped happily to take it. Jungkook led you inside and lasted another two minutes before saying, “Do you want to go on a date?”

“A...date?”

Jungkook held the door open for you, his cheeks pinking as you passed him. He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, “Like a...friend date?”

“A friend date?”

“Yeah, just so, you know, I can show you around Seoul.” Jungkook felt more and more awkward by the second, hands shaking slightly. Was he even convincing at all? You’d seemed so apprehensive at the proposition of a date, and he remembered Seokjin’s warning not to go too hard too fast, so he’d tried to amend the statement to have less romantic overtones.

You felt somewhat disappointed. A date implied feelings and more hand-holding and kissing...kissing. You’d been thinking about kissing him for years, and now he was in front of you with a different face, but somehow even more kissable than before.

You remembered your conversation with Mark on the airplane. Best friends, you’d told him adamantly. He had not looked convinced. Apparently, neither were you.

“That sounds fun,” you grinned, “I’d love to.”

author’s note— oooooh, a long-awaited date next chapter !

Translations— 고맙습니다 = thank you 청계천 = Cheonggyecheon Stream

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lenin-it-to-win-it · 7 years

Text

“Once Upon a Time”

Due to unforeseeable circumstances, a drunk Chuuya finds himself in Akutagawa’s care for the evening and flirts with him shamelessly. Although Akutagawa harbors certain feelings for Chuuya, he is reluctant to admit to them, especially because he believes Chuuya’s advances toward him are nothing more than a product of intoxication, doomed to vanish in the morning.

*****************************************************************************************************

Chuuya stumbled out of the car, spilling into Akutagawa’s arms. “Nice catch, Akutagawa.” He grabbed Akutagawa’s wrists and pushed himself to his feet, instantly throwing his arms around Akutagawa’s narrow waist as he struggled to reclaim his balance. Akutagawa, for his part, held Chuuya’s shoulders almost tight enough to leave bruises.

There was not the least thing comforting about Akutagawa. His body was cold, rigid, and sharp-edged, his expression even less welcoming, but Chuuya found it reassuring how firmly those bony hands gripped his shoulders. Those were hands with no intention of letting go; Chuuya appreciated the certainty. Although his head was spinning and the ground seemed to shift beneath his feet, Chuuya could trust Akutagawa to keep him from falling.

That was more than Chuuya could say for some people. . .

Chuuya’s stomach churned suddenly, and he lurched forward, choking down vomit.

“Careful, Nakahara-san,” Akutagawa snarled.

Chuuya squinted up at Akutagawa’s pale face, but his expression was blurred by several glasses of wine. It was impossible to tell if Akutagawa was telling him to be mindful of his step or issuing a threat. “You try’na start a fight?” Chuuya slurred, shoving Akutagawa away and cocking his fists. “I don’t need to be sober to kick your ass! Believe me, babe, I know a thing or two about kickin’ ass, especially ‘cause I’ve got the tightest one in Yokohama!”

Akutagawa coughed so hard his face flushed red. “Your, ah, tight ass nonwithstanding, if I was going to fight you, do you think I would have gone through all the trouble of driving you to my apartment first?”

Chuuya threw up his hands in surrender. “Fair, fair, but how should I know?” he complained. “You sound angry.”

“I do not sound angry,” said Akutagawa angrily.

Chuuya snorted. “There you go again. You always sound like someone picked all the strawberries off your last slice of cheesecake and shoved them up right your ass.”

“That’s what Gin always does.” Akutagawa almost sounded as if he was talking to himself. “She always eats the strawberries first whenever we have cheesecake. She’s a menace.” Akutagawa’s face went red. “That is to say, she takes the strawberries off the cheesecake. She doesn’t shov-”

Chuuya wasn’t listening to Akutagawa’s flustered explanations. “Cheesecake is my bitch!” he cried, throwing his hands on his hips. “Akutagawa, you ever had some my cheesecake?”

“I have not, Nakahara-san.”

“Yeah, well, remind me later, and I’ll make you some,” Chuuya replied with an emphatic nod. “My strawberry cheesecake is good enough to fuck!”

“Ah.” Akutagawa wrapped one arm around Chuuya’s shoulder and placing one skeletal hand on the small of his back to steady him. “This way, Nakahara-san,” he said softly, helping Chuuya navigate the stairs into the apartment complex. “And keep your voice down- it’s late.”

“I do what I damn well want to, you dense bitch!” Chuuya snapped, tossing his hair and causing the brim of his hat to slide down over his eyes. He huffed and poked his hat back up. “I’m a fuckin’ executive.” His hat slid back down. “You dense motherfucker, I’ll-”

Akutagawa straighened Chuuya’s hat. He coughed, covering the lower half of his face with his hand. “It was bothering me.”

Chuuya winked. “You’ve got me bothered, too.”

Akutagawa flushed indignantly. “That is not what I-”

“Oh, really?” Chuuya smirked and put his hands on his hips. “You’re not into all this?”

Akutagawa paused for far too long before answering, and Chuuya laughed. “It’s okay, I get it.” He patted Akutagawa’s hand in consolation. “Who wouldn’t want to fuck me? I’m gorgeous.”

“I don’t want to fuck you. . .” Akutagawa’s face was contemplative for a second, then it relapsed back into its habitual sullen hostility. “At all,” he added hastily.

“Yeah? What do you want to do to me, then?” Chuuya asked, half-flirting, half-curious.

Akutagawa scowled at the ground. His expression was so serious, Chuuya couldn’t help but smile. It was strangely endearing, how intently Akutagawa stared at the floor, thin lips pressed together in a little pout. Akutagawa’s dark hair fell into his face, and Chuuya reached up to tuck it behind his ear, caressing his pale cheek for a moment before letting his hand drop.

Akutagawa’s eyes widened and he raised a hand to his cheek, blushing. “Nakahara-san, did you- you-” Akutagawa closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What was that, exactly?”

Chuuya bit his lip and grinned. “Did you like that?” He lifted his face, flicking his hair back so his cheek was exposed. “If not, do it to me back so we’ll be even.” He smirked. “And if you did like it, there’s a lot more where that came from.”

Pause.

Akutagawa pressed a trembling hand against Chuuya’s cheek, withdrawing instantly as if he had just touched a hot stove. He seized Chuuya’s arm and yanked him forward. “Come on,” he growled. “How you can do such things in public, I’ll never understand. . .”

“Calm your tits, babe. I stroked your cheek, not your dick,” Chuuya muttered. He glanced over his shoulder at the empty hallway. “And there’s no one even here!” he shouted, stomping his foot for emphasis. “It’s a fuckin’ ghost town in here! We’re the only two people in the world!” Chuuya laughed and threw his arms around Akutagawa. “It’s just you and me, baby. Just the two of us, all alone.”

“All alone.” Akutagawa snorted. “I wish.”

For the first time, it occured to Chuuya that Akutagawa might actually not want him around. His expression must have changed because Akutagawa’s eyes softened marginally, and he took Chuuya’s hand. “This way. 204.”

“204,” Chuuya echoed. “All the way down on the second floor.”

Akutagawa rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not a penthouse suite like yours, but I’m not an executive, either. Welcome to the realm of commoners, Nakahara-san.”

Chuuya winked. “If all commoners are as cute as you, I might have to visit more often.”

“I-I am not cute,” Akutagawa sputtered, eyes narrowing. “How dare you? I am the dog of the Port Mafia, I am-”

Chuuya stood on his tiptoes to give Akutagawa a kiss on the nose. “You’re adorable.”

Akutagawa was silent for a moment, then he cleared his throat, rapping his fist against the copper 204 on the door. “Well, you know where I live now.” He slipped his key in the lock and the door swung open. Akutagawa kept his fingers wrapped around the knob so the door would not close on Chuuya. “If you ever wish to visit the so-called commoner’s realm again, I can’t exactly stop you.”

A thought struck Chuuya as Akutagawa escorted him to a moth-eaten gray couch. “Wait, what are we doing at your apartment anyway?” He smirked at Akutagawa. “Taking me home on the first date, eh? Not gonna lie, that’s kinda trashy, but I threw up in your glove compartment while you were talking to Higuchi earlier so I guess we’re even.”

“You did what?!”

“But seriously,” Chuuya continued, tapping his fingers on the edge of the couch. “Why didn’t you just drop me back off at my place?”

“The roads are still icy from the blizzard yesterday,” Akutagawa replied. “As your apartment is on the other side of town, I thought it would be safer to take you here than to try and drive all that way in dangerous conditions at this hour.”

Chuuya sat on the couch, leaning against Akutagawa’s shoulder. “Mm, clever boy.” He yawned and stretched, not even noticing when his hat fell off and landed on the floor. “I guess anything’s safer than me trying to drive my drunk ass home, even though I’m not really that drunk.”

Akutagawa snorted. “You called Hirotsu-san a bitch baby when he refused to give you a piggyback ride around headquarters.”

“Yeah, well, he was being a bitch baby.” Chuuya batted his eyelashes at Akutagawa. “Unlike a certain someone I know. . .”

***

Chuuya really had no right to be as pretty as he was, Akutagawa reflected angrily as the little mafioso clambered onto his back and wrapped his arms around his neck. Really, was there any reason for the sleek, elegant curls of his hair, burning with the incandescence of an autumn sunset, to frame his face so perfectly? His lips didn’t have to be so full, his smile so sultry, the delicate baby blue of his eyes such a contrast to the mischief smoldering within them- there was no reason for any of it, none at all.

Chuuya was warm. That, at least, Akutagawa could understand. With his flaming hair and even brighter eyes, with the searing passion and seemingly endless energy that he seemed to pour into every word, every motion, Chuuya was the kind of person who should feel hot to the touch. Still, that did nothing to account for his hands. . .

He was mafia, wasn’t he? How could those hands, hands that had gripped the trigger of a gun, hands that had snapped necks and shattered families, hands stained with blood again and again and again, feel so soft? Akutagawa could not recall ever being touched so gently. Just the thought of Chuuya’s hand on his cheek was enough to make him blush. Fortunately, as Chuuya was now sitting on Akutagawa’s back, resting his chin on the top of his head, his flushed cheeks wouldn’t be visible.

Akutagawa rose slowly so Chuuya wouldn’t slide off. “Damn it, Nakahara-san,” he grunted, his thin legs straining under Chuuya’s weight. “You’re heavier than you look.”

Chuuya patted Akutagawa’s head. “And you’re a little bitch baby.”

Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, Akutagawa made a show of swatting Chuuya’s hand away. “I’m not a bitch baby,” he growled, hooking his arms around Chuuya’s legs and taking off at a sprint, circling the room.

Chuuya howled with excitement, throwing his hands in the air. “Faster!”

“No,” Akutagawa panted, already out of breath. “You’ll fall off. Hold on.”

“Gravity is my bitch,” Chuuya declared. Akutagawa could just picture him flipping his hair over his shoulder. “I don’t fall off of anything.” To prove his superiority over gravity, Chuuya activated his ability and launched himself into the air. He rammed his head into the ceiling and promptly collapsed on top of Akutagawa, slamming him into the ground. “Thanks for breaking my fall, baby boy,” Chuuya cooed, patting Akutagawa’s ass in what might have been a gesture intended to show his appreciation.

Akutagawa simply did not have the strength- or the desire- to push Chuuya’s hand away. Instead, he just groaned. “It wasn’t exactly planned on my part, you know.” A door swung open, and Akutagawa could hear footsteps rushing toward the living room. “Perfect,” he sighed. “Now Gin’s awake.”

“Ryuu, what on earth-” Gin stopped short when she saw her brother sprawled on the floor with Chuuya’s hand on his ass. Her eyes narrowed. “Do I even want to know?”

Akutagawa coughed. “It’s not what it looks like?”

Chuuya was quick to jump to Akutagawa’s defense. “Yeah, Gin, I was just riding your brother.”

Gin shot Akutagawa a look, then smiled at Chuuya. “Well, it’s always a pleasure to see you, Nakahara-san. It’s an honor to have you here.”

Chuuya beamed. “Such good manners.” He gave Akutagawa’s hand a light slap. “Too bad you couldn’t leave any for your brother.”

Gin giggled. “You’re telling me.” She yawned. “Well, have a good night, Nakahara-san.” She smiled sweetly before turning and heading for her room. “Oh, and don’t ride my brother too hard, please,” she called over her shoulder. “He’s very frail, you know.”

Chuuya began stroking Akutagawa’s hair. “Don’t worry,” he said, his words warm and soft in Akutagawa’s ear. “I’ll be gentle.”

Akutagawa closed his eyes, allowing Chuuya to stroke his hair for a few moments before speaking. “There’s nothing gentle about slamming into the ceiling and falling on top of me.”

“Oh poor baby,” Chuuya cooed, leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on the top of Akutagawa’s head. “You want daddy to kiss your boo-boos and make them all better?”

Akutagawa bolted upright, feeling only a slight twinge of guilt when Chuuya slid off with an indignant shriek. “You are not my daddy,” he declared, glaring down at Chuuya and hoping the blush he felt rising on his cheeks was not noticeable. Without meaning to, he found his hand brushing the spot on his head where Chuuya’s lips had made contact.

Chuuya crossed his arms, and Akutagawa silently admired the subtle movement of muscles in his forearms. “Don’t I know it,” he huffed, his eyebrows knitting together in the most endearing scowl Akutagawa had ever seen. “No son of mine would get away with such terrible manners. We’ve been here for, like, eight years and you haven’t so much as offered me something to drink. Where’s your sense of hospitality?”

Akutagawa rolled his eyes and coughed into his hand. “Something tells me you’ve had more than enough to drink already, Nakahara-san.”

Chuuya lightly trailed a hand along Akutagawa’s forearm. “That’s what you think,” he purred. “But I can’t ever get enough,” he added, licking his lips. Chuuya’s tongue, Akutagawa noted, swallowing, could move very quickly. “I’m a thirsty boy, Aku.”

“From scolding to seduction in the blink of an eye,” Akutagawa thought. “And Nakahara-san looks just as beautiful doing one as the other.”

Akutagawa coughed, then cleared his throat. “I don’t have any wine, if that’s what you’re after,” he said, keeping his voice cool and unemotional.

Chuuya pouted. “But I’m so thirsty!”

As much as Chuuya lamented about his thirst, his lips certainly did not appear dry to Akutagawa. It was difficult to focus on any particular feature of Chuuya’s- Akutagawa was too impatient, too greedy, desperate to drink him in all at once- but once his eyes fastened on that luscious pink mouth, it was almost impossible to break away. With great effort, Akutagawa managed to stand up, tearing his gaze from Chuuya’s mouth.

“Well, Nakahara-san,” he said, beating back his impulse to look back at Chuuya and forcing himself to look straight ahead as he walked to the kitchen. “I suppose I can give you a glass of water.”

“Boo! Water’s for bitches!”

Akutagawa sighed and opened the fridge. There was a small container of leftover rice, some withered carrots, and a half-gallon of milk one day from its expiration date. “There’s milk.”

“Milk is for even bigger bitches!”

Akutagawa groaned, then coughed. “Do you want tea?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Chuuya, who was now standing, leaning on the edge of the couch for support.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes, considering. “What kind of tea?”

“Whatever’s in the cupboard.”

“Oh,” said Chuuya, intrigued. “Mysterious.”

“I suppose so, Nakahara-san,” said Akutagawa. His hand hovered over the cabinet door. “Would you like to uncover the mystery?”

“Fuck yeah!”

The moment Akutagawa opened the door, a small, mostly empty box fell out and hit him in the head. He snarled and picked it up off the ground, glaring at the label on the front. “Gin,” he growled. “I’ve told her a million times not to put everything so close to the edge- it always ends up falling out.”

“What always falls out?”

“Everything, whenever she puts the groceries away.” Akutagawa held up the box. “In this case, it’s her hot chocolate.”

Chuuya’s face lit up. “Hot chocolate is like, my third favorite drink that isn’t wine! We should make some!” Chuuya darted into the kitchen, sliding on the tile- he would have ran into the fridge if Akutagawa hadn’t grabbed his arm and yanked him away- and began rooting around in the cupboards, producing a pair of cups and, for whatever reason, a ladle. “Let’s do it, Aku!” he cried, brandishing the ladle like it was a sword. “Let’s fuck this hot chocolate up the ass!” Chuuya thrusted his ladle at the fridge. “Engarde!”

In most people, Akutagawa found enthusiasm insufferable, and yet something about Chuuya’s excitement made his heart flutter in a way he didn’t quite understand. How did so much vitality fit in that tiny little frame? Where did Chuuya get that energy from, that passion? Akutagawa had cared about two, perhaps three things, in his entire life, but Chuuya- Chuuya threw himself into everything with unshakeable voracity. Of course, Chuuya’s present delight over the hot chocolate may have been more than a little inspired by alcohol, but his zeal for life was never lessened by sobriety.

After all, this was the same Chuuya who had become an executive at such a young age through, as it seemed to Akutagawa, sheer force of will. After Dazai left, Chuuya had lost accesss to the most powerful, devastating part of his ability; if Akutagawa had lost his ability to wield rashomon in any capacity, he would surely be tossed out like garbage without a moment of hesitation, but Chuuya made himself indispensible. Fierce dedication, fiery passion, and indefatigueable tenacity burned deep in Chuuya’s heart, making his eyes shine like blue flames, illuminating him from within.

Akutagawa coughed. “Well, there’s only one packet of hot chocolate left,” he said, peering into the box. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Gin won’t be happy with me. She always gets annoyed when I take the last one.”

“Well, at least you’re taking it for the greater good,” Chuuya said.

If Akutagawa had eyebrows, he would have raised one. “The greater good?”

“That’s right!” Chuuya smacked Akutagawa’s ass with the ladle and smirked. “I’m the greater good.” He winked at Akutagawa, trailing his tongue along the ladle’s long, slender handle. “But I can be bad, too.”

“Give me that ladle, Nakahara-san!” Akutagawa snapped, blushing slightly as he snatched the ladle out of Chuuya’s hand. “Don’t lick my utensils.”

Chuuya smirked. “Oh, yeah?” He grabbed Akutagawa’s cravat and yanked him down so they were at eye level. “Then why don’t you tell me what I can lick?”

Just the thought of Chuuya’s agile little tongue was enough to make Akutagawa lightheaded, but he forced himself to pull his cravat away from Chuuya. “You can lick your hot chocolate when it’s finished, though it would probably burn your tongue,” he said, striding toward the stove. He placed a pot on the burner, then, upon realizing he forgot to add water, handed it to Chuuya. “Don’t lick this,” he snarled. “Just fill it with water.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, baby boy,” Chuuya purred, gesturing loosely with the hand holding the pot and nearly hitting himself in the face. “I know how to make things wet.”

Akutagawa groaned, but the sound of running water placated him somewhat. He turned the stove on, jerking the knob so hard it almost came off. As a little flame flickered to life, Akutagawa turned to Chuuya. “Is the pot full ye-” Akutagawa dropped the packet of hot chocolate. “Nakahara-san! What the hell are you doing!?”

“What?” Chuuya looked far too indignant at Akutagawa’s outrage given the fact that he was sitting on a countertop, his shirt lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, shamelessly rubbing tap water on his pierced nipples. “It cools me down. I’m too hot.”

“Tha-that may be so, Nakahara-san,” stammered Akutagawa, trying and failing to regain his composure. “But you have to- you can-t just-” Watching the water droplets slide down Chuuya’s glistening chest was mesmerizing, but Akutagawa forced himself to look away. “Is the pot full?” he asked when he felt he managed to project a semblance of calm into his voice.

Chuuya lay back against the countertop, placing his hands behind his head and gazing up at the ceiling. “Yeah, it’s in the sink.” He yawned and closed his eyes. “It probably has some tit water in it, though.”

Akutagawa coughed, covering the lower half of his face with his hand so his cheeks were hidden. “I-I see.” He took the pot out of the sink and placed it on the stove.

“It’s too hot in here!” Chuuya complained, fanning himself with one hand. Chuuya’s hands were a thing of beauty: slender and elegant, with a way of making even the most mundane movements seem fluid and graceful.

When Akutagawa glanced away from Chuuya’s hand long enough look at his face, he saw that his cheeks were flushed and the curls closest to his face were slightly darker than the rest, tamped down by perspiration or tap water. While the pot of water boiled on the stove, Akutagawa dug the ice tray out of the freezer and extricated a handful of ice cubes. He dropped the ice cubes on Chuuya’s face. “You said you were hot,” he said by way of explanation. “This will help.”

Chuuya’s eyes half-opened, and he offered Akutagawa a lazy smile. “Thanks, baby,” he purred, reaching up to stroke Akutagawa’s hair. “I feel better already.” He yawned again, covering his mouth. “Getting sleepy, though.”

Akutagawa’s heart sank. Soon, Chuuya would fall asleep, then Aktuagawa would drive him back to headquarters in the morning, and then their little idyll would be shattered. Their time together was finite, a magic spell that would fade to nothing the moment Chuuya woke up sober and remebered that he was a Port Mafia executive, and that Akutagawa was nothing more than a subordinate who happened to do him a favor, a once upon a time that would never resolve with a “happily ever after”.

“Of course I don’t really matter to Nakahara-san,” Akutagawa thought bitterly. “In this state, he’d probably flirt with anything that moves- replace me with anyone else and nothing changes.” Akutagawa clenced his hands into fists. If his time with Chuuya was limited, then there was no time to waste.

Akutagawa stalked over to the stove, turning it off with a single ruthless twist. “If you fall asleep before drinking your hot chocolate, I’ll never forgive you,” he snarled. He took a chipped mug out of the cupboard and carefully filled it with water, pausing for a moment to shoot Chuuya a harsh look before opening the packet of hot chocolate powder and pouring it into the cup. Upon realizing he forgot to grab a spoon, Akutagawa growled and stirred the hot chocolate with a rashomon tendril. “You’ll drink it if I have to restrain you with rashomon and force it down your throat.”

Chuuya sat up, smirking. The ice cubes slid off his face and landed on the floor and in his lap. He picked an ice cube off the countertop and popped in his mouth, crushing it in half with a single bite. “Kinky.”

Akutagawa shoved the mug into Chuuya’s hands. “Shut up and drink it.”

Chuuya yawned as he took the cup from Akutagawa. “You’re just lucky I like taking orders.” He spat the fractured ice cube into the sink and took a sip of the hot chocolate.

“Do you-” Akutagawa swallowed. “Do you like it, Nakahara-san?”

“Of course!” Chuuya sounded surprised by the question. “Sure, it’s shitty powder from a box, and there’s probably not even any actual chocolate in it, and I just burned the ever-loving fuck out of my tongue, but hey,” he shrugged, winking at Akutagawa. “If I’ve gotta drink this bile to keep you happy-” Chuuya stretched and yawned, holding the mug high above his head. Akutagawa grabbed the mug so he could keep it from falling if Chuuya’s hand slipped. “-I’ll drink it every day for the rest of my life.” Chuuya took a long sip of hot chocolate. “It’s terrible,” he said with a radiant smile. “But I love it.” He held out the mug to Akutagawa. “Here, try some.”

It took Akutagawa, still shocked by Chuuya’s sweet words, a moment to react. “Oh, o-okay,” he stammered, taking the mug with both hands. The bottom of his palms brushed against Chuuya’s fingertips, and he almost dropped the mug. Somehow, he managed to hold onto the mug long enough to take a sip.

“Aw, look at you,” Chuuya cooed. “You put your lips exactly where I did.”

Akutagawa spit out his hot chocolate. “That was not intentional!” he cried, blushing furiously. “Nakahara-san, I-”

Chuuya laughed. “There’s no taking it back now- we’re married!” He reached out and tapped his fingers on the edge of the mug. “That’s what happens when two people drink from the same cup. It’s science, babe.”

“Married?!”

Akutagawa imagined being married to Chuuya, waking up beside a head of tousled red curls every morning and falling asleep to the rhythm of his breathing, his heartbeats close enough to be Akutagawa’s own. He imagined Chuuya taking his hand and leading him places- on walks through gardens, along the beach, into museums- the locations never mattering as much as the warm, insistent pressure of Chuuya’s hand. He imagined sitting beside Chuuya in silence as they stared at the stars through an open window. It seemed to Akutagawa that the light of the stars grew brighter when they were reflected in the clear, pure blue of Chuuya’s eyes.

Akutagawa imagined what it would be like to be loved. . .

“I-if you say, so, Nakahara-san,” said Akutagawa faintly, holding onto the countertop for balance.

Chuuya took the mug back from Akutagawa and kissed the place where his and Akutagawa’s lips had met. “I now pronounce us married!” He reached for Akutagawa. “You may now kiss the-”

The mug fell to the ground and shattered. For a moment, Chuuya only glared at the ruined mug in silence, wearing on the of the darkest expressions Akutagawa had ever seen on his beautiful face. Then, in a voice of pure venom: “Thanks, Dazai.”

Akutagawa couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t recall the last time he had laughed out loud, but, then again, he couldn’t remember ever finding something so funny. To be drinking hot chocolate with Port Mafia executive Nakahara Chuuya in the middle of the night, for him to drop a mug and mention Dazai-san of all people, it was too much not to laugh at.

Chuuya clasped his hands together. “You have the cutest laugh!” he exclaimed, eyes shining. “Oh, man, there is nothing about you that I don’t love. But,” he added, yawning. “I’m tired as hell, and I could really use some sleep right about now.” Chuuya curled up on the countertop, resting his head on his arms. “Night, Aku.”

Akutagawa wrapped his arms around Chuuya and lifted him off the countertop. “I can’t let you sleep in the kitchen,” he murmured. “You’ve already lectured me once for my hospitality, after all.”

Chuuya nuzzled up against Akutagawa’s chest. “Someone’s learned their lesson.”

Akutagawa bypassed the couch without a second glance, instead carrying Chuuya into his room and laying him down gently on the bed. “You sleep here,” he said. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Stay,” Chuuya breathed.

Akutagawa froze. “A-are you sure, Nakahara-san?”

“Bitch, I’m tired. Don’t make me say it again.”

Akutagawa crawled into the bed with some trepidation, doubting the twin mattress could comfortably fit two people. Of course, Chuuya was relatively small, and Akutagawa had predicted Chuuya would want space when, to the contrary, it seemed he wanted nothing more than to get as close to Akutagawa as possible. Chuuya draped his arms around Akutagawa’s shoulders, lying so close beside him that their chins touched. Akutagawa opened his mouth to say good night, and suddenly he was being kissed.

Even in the moments he had pictured their marriage, Akutagawa had hardly dared to imagine Chuuya’s beautiful mouth pressed against his own chapped lips. It was not a long kiss, but it was more than Akutagawa had ever expected, had ever dreamed. Tears sprang into Akutagawa’s eyes, but, reassured by the darkness, he let them fall. “Good night, Nakahara-san,” he whispered. Then, once he was certain Chuuya was asleep:

“I’ll miss you.”

#bungou stray dogs #chuuaku #here come dat fic o shit waddup #i just finished this bad bitch at 4 am lmaooo #also this is gonna be multiple parts ayy!#but i probably wont be working on it for another week or so bc i still have to finish up aftermath part 2

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