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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 28 - This Ain't No Hymn

Masterlist; Chapter 27

Summary: Time is running until Stalsk-12 and whatever awaits you there. You and Neil try to make the best out of what you have left.

Warnings: 18+ (implied and not so implied content); teasing; swearing.

Author's Notes: Gosh that was a long month... and I'm sorry it took ages. But it's here...! And it's over 14k for which I am terribly sorry. This one is my final stall before we kick off the action and I do hope you'll enjoy the absolute crackheadery of whatever goes on. Feedback greatly appreciated, as always!

During the final two days leading up to the battle, you did wonder how life can be at once so wonderful and yet terrifying. It was easy to get used to the new reality, letting Neil stay in your cabin for most of the time and only use his own for those brief periods when he would need a change of clothes. Or when you would be busy dealing with the assigned tasks, and he would get bored (as he proclaimed). Still, there was barely a time when you were not together.

Mornings were undeniably something else. As the remains of Morpheus’ spell wore off, you snuggled the duvet closer to your chest, relishing in the warmth provided by the blanket and the man sleeping beside you. One last heavy sigh before you opened your eyes, squinting in the bright light falling through the porthole. The sun rays aiming directly at your face, causing you to turn onto the side and face Neil. Despite the numerous mornings spent like this, the sight of him never got old. Your eyes slowly swept over his features. The relaxed brow, blonde hair falling over the forehead in complete disarray. Lips slightly parted, letting out quiet snores. You grinned, overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Because this was worth all the heartache and drama. Absolutely priceless.

Scooting a little bit closer, you felt his hand instinctively tighten over your waist. The hold, which has been placed the previous evening, not shifting throughout the whole night. Keeping you secured and warm. Just as if you were always supposed to end up like this. And perhaps you were. Gently, you reached out to brush your fingertips over his temple. Tentative touch making his breath even out, waking him in the process. Using the momentum, you swept the hair away from his eyes, ending the caress by running the pad of your thumb over his nose and mouth. If only because he was within your grasp.

Neil opened his eyes then, blinking twice to get used to the brightness. You watched as he took in the surroundings, consciousness needing few seconds longer to catch up. Once his eyes landed on you, his lips curled into a soft smile. Gaze immediately showing you nothing but affection. You mirrored his expression, letting yourself extend the staring. It was easy to waste the morning just doing that, gazing into each other’s eyes, getting used to the unbelievable luck. The comfortable silence stretched for a few minutes when Neil grinned and pulled you closer, hiding his head in the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent with reverence. The happy giggle rose in your throat, tinting the words with breathlessness:

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” the nickname coming out of nowhere, yet fitting too well.

You could feel Neil’s smile widen. Cradling you close, he kissed your collarbone and slipped his hands underneath the shirt to caress the skin. It was always like this, slow and blissful, with every minute spent cuddling reminding you why loving him was something essential.

“I should be annoyed at you for waking me up,” the pretended sulking accentuated with a huff let out by Neil.

Still, his hold over your waist tightened. Another kiss laid on the collarbone, teeth lightly grazing over your skin. At this point, hickeys were just another thing that had to be accepted. With the military fashion aboard the icebreaker depending largely on pullovers and combat trousers, you did not need much to hide them. Now, feeling the sleepiness gradually make way for other emotions, you wound your arms around his middle, tangling more to prolong the contentment.

“What’s the but there?” dropping the cheeky question, you made sure to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Taking a moment to drag your fingers through his hair, arranging the eternal mess someway, a job you took on most days now. It was only a pleasure, making sure he looked presentable and yet still like his chaotic self.

“But… this way I can spend few more minutes like this” another blissful sigh, “And this is rather nice,” the adjective complemented with a final trail of kisses down your neck.

Using the loose cut of the t-shirt, Neil ended the study with a longer caress on your bare shoulder. Earning a gasp from you. And then, to sober up, you remarked:

“I love it when you become this incomprehensible in the mornings,” another tactical distraction in the form of tracing your fingertips down his forearm.

His cluelessness first thing after waking up was endearing. Despite always being rather dependent on touch and closeness, it was in those hours when he tended to seek comfort. As opposed to your evening need of hugs and cuddles, helping your anxious brain settle in for the night. It worked. Very much so.

“Very funny” Neil raised his head, joining you on the pillow, “You’re quite gorgeous, did you know that?” eyes showing you the unimaginable extent of infatuation.

You grinned, the charm never failing to get to you. In moments like this, it was easy to believe him. To accept the fact that he was in love with you. Exactly as you are.

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice. I’m not convinced though” sensing the potential in this line of conversation, you made sure to put up the act.

It worked if judging by the way his eyes lit up with the familiar glimmer. As if that was the needed push for him. The wake-up call.

“I’ll convince you then,” a predatory smirk reminding you of the defeat.

There was no point in fighting him. With excitement fluttering in the pit of your stomach, you watched as he shifted to hover over you. Hands settling comfortably on your waist. One last wink before he leaned down, crashing his mouth into yours with hunger. Your hands ventured up his arms to enlace on the nape of his neck, offering leverage. To pull him down as you deepened the kiss. Easily letting his tongue brush against yours in the intimate moves. Every glide of his lips against yours resulting in flickering fire, electrical sparks trailing down your veins. Muffled sighs and gasps breaking the silence. It was never something effortlessly brushed off. Each kiss sharpening the need and affirming the convictions. Unforgettable.

You broke off the contact only once it felt like you both would suffocate if letting it continue. With a permanent grin, you watched as Neil flopped back on the pillow and took a greedy breath, hand taking yours instinctively and lacing up the fingers to extend the touch. After a few seconds of the recovery period, you decided to pick up on the playful strand once more. For good measure. Raising on the elbow, you glanced down at him with a cheeky smile:

“Do you always kiss that good?” you slowly dragged your tongue along your lips, saving up the remains of the taste.

With satisfaction, you observed as his eyes darted to your mouth, pupils darkening as though that was enough to entice him. The attraction never failing to surprise you in its intensity. Fate and related synonyms constantly on your mind. Because what else could it be?

“You tell me” following your mood, Neil smirked, never easily thrown off by the banter.

Shots fired and all that. Naturally. You broke into a laugh, half-collapsing against him. Only the arms wrapping around your waist keeping you secured. There was nothing left to do but let the giggles die down, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“My god…” words choked out with immeasurable happiness, “If it’s going to be a lifetime of talk like that, then I’m not sure I’ll survive it” admitting the eternal truth, you peeked up at him to see the reaction.

A widening grin and a hint of insecurity brewing underneath were a fascinating mix.

“Maybe you’ll get tired of me and my bullshit. And dump me for someone with the charisma of a cardboard box,”

It was the way he was so utterly wrong that made you let out a quiet laugh then. And also, the concern over his self-doubts that would need to be dealt with immediately. As the true bullshit must be treated.

“So… like Jasper?” the joke earning you a genuine burst of laughter from Neil and a tightening hold over your body “Wouldn’t count on it,” raising once again, you kissed him lightly on the lips and the tip of the nose.

As a reminder.

“Good. Because something tells me I’m a lost cause,” the sincere look causing another wave of love for him, “There’s no getting over someone like you, Miss” in response, Neil bopped your nose with his playfully.

There it is again. With curiosity peaked, you ignored the need to get lost in another kiss and chose to ask a question:

“What’s with the new nickname?” your interest betrayed only by the restless fingers trailing down his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in the shirt.

Not that you did mind. It was rather cute. And strange.

“I’m trying it out... to see how I feel about it” as usual, Neil caught your meaning with a pensive look.

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, staring at you unseeingly. Beauty like this first thing in the morning should be made illegal. Your heart once again building up the fire that could only be extinguished by letting yourself have what you wanted. And that was rather simple.

“And?” trying to distract the intensifying thoughts, you took hold of his hand once again.

Carefully relaxing the fist, fingertips inspecting the web of veins and scars covering his palm. The long, slender fingers never failing to amaze you. A sudden reminder about the piano in his flat making everything worse. Because that would be quite a sight.

“I like it. Once we get married, I’ll amp up the game anyways,” Neil’s oblivious ramblings disrupting a detailed daydream concerning him and the piano keys.

Thankfully. It was only once you have brought yourself back to the present moment, the exact meaning of his words caught up.

“Once… not if?” that flicker of hope burning bright and steady.

It was in the way Neil studied you closely that you knew he understood. The smirk spread across his lips; eyes glimmered dangerously as he cupped your cheek:

“Why you got any other plans?” a suggestive glance at your mouth yet again.

No reason to deny it. You glanced at the phone to confirm your hopes. It was early. Enough so to spend a little bit longer in bed. Perfect.

“For now, yes,” meeting his gaze with a half-smile of your own.

Quickly untangling from the current position to provide yourself with more options. Not that he would mind how you would go about it. He never did.

“Care to share?” the want written clearly on his face, nothing but an invitation.

No verbal response needed as you straddled his lap and kissed him eagerly. Your hands followed, inching up his shirt and giving more places to study. The look full of curiosity and excitement in the blue eyes only providing more reasons to continue. More kisses. Hands exploring the familiar territory, waking up the desire, and raising the temperature. A quick fix for the addiction. Breathless moans and groans, breaking the silence of the morning hours. Gathering the courage to do what you wanted never felt this sweet.

***

Whenever Neil was busy with assigned work or training, you would wander the ship looking for something to do. A way to pass the time without triggering worrying thoughts or staring at the plans for the hundredth time. Two days were still left. And the objective was to survive them as peacefully as possible given the circumstances. You were owed as much.

That morning your feet carried you to the bridge. The quiet space offering a perfect place to settle down with the coffee and a blanket on your lap. With the panoramic windows giving an excellent view of the horizon, you could comfortably stare at the endless sky and sea. That close to the Siberian shores the only land visible were the occasional Russian islands, partially covered with snow or laid with grassy steppes. Otherwise, the emptiness could be easily overwhelming. Silence deafening. No soul nearby not belonging to your party of agents and soldiers willing to save the world from the bomb that could still go off. (Or did it already?) It was thoughts like those that caused most drama. Tiny brain worms rooting deep inside to come out at night and bother you with difficult questions and uncertainties. An ideal spark for anxiety.

Too lost in your head, you never heard the airlock open.

“Morning” you looked up, startled to see Kat take off the oxygen mask.

“Hi,” you grinned, suddenly relieved to have company.

She hesitated, eyeing your set up on the sofa and then the scene outside of the window.

“May I join?” upon your nod, she smiled and joined you on the settee, noticing wistfully, “The view from my porthole isn’t half this good”

You observed as she took in the scenery, large blue eyes full of wonder.

“This is quite something else…” you added, gaze coming back to the picturesque view.

The comfortable silence stretching out for a few minutes, when sudden thought prompted you to speak up:

“I never came to thank you for helping me back then-” the incoming apology stopped with a hand resting on your knee.

“Don’t mention it,” the reassuring smile shutting up the worries, “It was the least I could do” another pat on your knee before her grin turned wicked, “Where’s Neil?”

Caught. If it was not due to your accurate portrayal of the deer stuck in headlights, it was probably the blush that confirmed her thesis. There was no reason to pretend.

“He’s got shooting practice,” feigning nonchalance, you wondered aloud, “How do you…?” the question not needing finalization.

The look on Kat’s face nothing short of welcoming.

“I saw you on the deck during the Northern Lights,” the explanation tinting your cheeks darker “You were stood close, away from everyone else. And then you looked at him and kept on staring as though he was more beautiful than the Aurora to you” right…your breath hitched, the realization hitting with a needed kick, “I noticed you leave right after, hands holding tightly…” she trailed off, the knowing smile gracing her lips.

More beautiful than the aurora… yes, definitely. Finding words again, you chose to be honest. She saw you at your worst, offered a shoulder to lean on and a spark to light the flickering hope. To say that you were grateful was an understatement.

“We’ve managed to talk it out. Turns out he was just an idiot trying to save me while willing to ignore his feelings” thoughtlessly, a smile appeared on your face; joy uncontainable “You were right, he loves me,”

It still felt strange to say it. Even though it was true. The last time Neil told you as much was less than an hour ago. A parting affirmation as he was putting on the pullover and leaving your cabin. The new normal.

“As he should,” Kat grinned, optimism in her eyes exhilarating, “You both deserve happiness” you mirrored her smile, taking a sip from the abandoned coffee cup in a bliss-like daze, “From what I’ve seen the last few days… you’re giving him everything he was missing” the addition making your grin wider, the dangerous hope unstoppable.

Both of you went silent then, pondering on the view and what could be said. Silence comfortably stretching out and giving you a sense of companionship that you missed. While sharing thoughts and feelings with Neil was like second nature, sometimes you wished for somebody else to talk to. It was that necessity of being candid that prompted the confession:

“I like to believe that maybe now things will turn out alright somehow… but it’s difficult to keep it up with whatever awaits us at Stalsk,” the reminder settling with the anxiety cast all over your mind and heart.

The sombre turn of the conversation seemingly alright with Kat, for she eyed you closely before speaking up:

“Neil told me you’re going with him on the special unit” it was an observation.

But one that needed confirmation. The possibility to discuss it with her suddenly sounding like something you desperately wanted but never dared dream of.

“Yeah, I have to” a nod if only to reassure yourself, “Maybe it’s crazy, but I’ve got a feeling that I should be there. That it’s where I’m supposed to end up” words ringing out in the quiet space with defiance “And do whatever will be necessary to help him get out unscathed” the unsaid hanging over you, bestowing imperceptible shadow.

Kat looked at you thoughtfully; the quiet observation weighed with thousands of things that could be said. Finally, she ended the scrutiny and turned back to the horizon, breaking the silence with a comment:

“After everything I’ve seen, that’s far from crazy,” low chuckle permeating the space with a sense of faked lightness, “I’m more concerned about that part with whatever will be necessary…” the emphasis making your cheeks turn a darker shade.

Of course. She would understand what you meant. It is the only way. The belief in that one statement giving enough courage to defend your position:

“I know how it sounds. And perhaps its emotions talking… but he must survive” hiding the rising wave of emotions, you finished the lukewarm coffee, stubbornly staring at the edge of the navy sea covered with waves.

Anything but to face the attentive gaze. In the fear of losing the conviction. There was no time to falter now. Whatever would happen, you had to proceed with the plan. If not for yourself, then for Neil.

“Even if that means your sacrifice?” the question asked with a neutral tone.

The meaning simple. Taken by surprise, you looked up to meet the blue eyes staring at you inquisitively. There was no point in lying. It was another thing that you pondered on often. The question of what if. What if it comes to it and you’ll have to choose between your life and Neil’s? The answer was undeniable. Even if unspeakable.

“Yes,” a nod to assert it with all your might, “And I know he sees things the same… he told me that it’s why he’s doing it. To make sure the world won’t end taking me with it” you added, as though to validate your statement.

To show her that it was not only you who was that crazy. That perhaps what you have is something extraordinary. Worth more than anyone else can understand. Judging by the glimmer in Kat’s eyes, she knew what you were trying to say.

“I’ve only encountered love like that in fiction,” a hint of a melancholic smile on her face tugging at your heart with force.

Desperately searching for something else to say, you remembered everything Neil told you about her. Of why you were very much alike even if it did not seem so at first sight.

“You’re willing to go to similar lengths for your son. Max, right?” uncertain about the name, you hesitated.

She nodded, her expression turned serious, eyes showing the steely resilience you have seen before. A strong woman willing to do anything to save her son.

“Yes, I think… I’m not sure what’s going to happen on that bloody yacht but…” you watched as she searched for the right words, hands clenched tightly in her lap, “I’ll do what must be done to make sure Andrei doesn’t win this one” her tone turning cold, determination resounding through every syllable “He’s done enough harm,”

It was the flash of resignation passing through her gaze that caused another heartbreak. Suddenly you wished for nothing but a reckoning. Vengeance against this horrible man and the tortures he has inflicted upon Kat.

“I’m sorry,” words rolling off your tongue for the lack of anything better.

Instantly, you cursed your awkwardness, ready to come up with something different, when a hand placed on your forearm stopped the panicked stream of thoughts.

“Don’t be,” she squeezed your palm quickly before saying, “I hate it when people look at me with pity. The poor woman who married a monster. I want to be seen as a victor, not a victim,” the confession carrying with it a rising sense of strength.

Because she certainly was a victor. Someone to admire for the resistance and unyielding force of will. To be good and to put her son’s life before hers. That was something to aspire to. A quote from a few years back resonated through your head as you commented:

“Nevertheless, she persisted,” the mysterious smile spreading on your lips upon seeing Kat’s surprise.

And then she beamed. Gratefulness better than anything else you could ask for.

“Yes, exactly,” a nod, hope shining bright in her eyes, “Maybe this is my chance,”

Using the quiet moment, she stood up and wandered over to the panoramic window. The sun has begun to shine through the low clouds, adding a little more charm to the view. A tiny bit of optimism. Because maybe… With her back turned to you and the increasing sense of courage, you spoke up:

“You’ve already won. You’ve survived a wound like that… and you’re here, free from him. That for me is being victorious” finishing the sentence, you wavered.

When Kat turned back to face you with a smile full of gratitude and eyes shining with happy tears, you knew it was worth it.

***

The early afternoon before the very last night proceeding the battle was difficult. Left to your own devices, you have been idly sitting in the cabin, pondering on the various ways to stop the anxious thoughts. Even for a minute. But all the ways you could come up with either involved seeking out Neil, who has been hired to give the soldiers a quick physics-related pep talk, brushing up on their inverted combat skills and how to survive on the battlefield when the forces of gravity work against you. The other coping method you came up with had to do with spending hours in the shooting ground again. And there were hardly any bullets left for training, with stocks reserved strictly for operational use. Limits set by yourself as per order. Not omittable.

That is how you have found yourself setting up the hastily packed speaker (because why not?) in the small sparring ground in the training zone. You have changed into comfortable sweatpants and a tank top, deciding to use up the excess of energy in chilled solo sparring of sorts. It mostly consisted of finding proper bops and prancing around the space, trying out different kicks and punches Ives taught you. It was easy to get lost, feeling the rhythm, setting the pace, and choosing the right kind of moves to deal with the invisible opponents. A backfist here, roundhouse kick there. An attempt at a flying kick just because the guitar solo got you a little bit too entranced. That one ended with a groan, face flat on the mat. Thankfully there was no one to see.

You got lost in the movement, music drowning out everything else, until it was just you, your body in the fluid movements and the breaths punctuating the silence. Aiming a perfect backhander, you turned around only to freeze when your eyes landed on the intruder leaning on the plastic screen separating the spaces. Impeccable grin and a shrug answering your wide gaze. Blue eyes appreciatively sweeping across your body. Nothing new there for him. You stared back, heavy breaths catching up after minutes of intense practice. After what seemed like an eternity, Neil’s smile widened as he pushed himself up and crossed the distance.

Hands landing on your waist, without a second wasted, he pulled you closer, forcefully enough to draw out a startled yelp. That was rather unexpected. You barely had time to comprehend anything when he kissed you with hunger. On reflex, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck as you opened your mouth to let him in. Teeth clanked when Neil reached out for more than you could offer, breath caught in your throat, unprepared for something like this. The need resonating through your tangled bodies as you let the stream of feelings take you under. Temperance forgotten as Neil tugged on your lower lip, bruising the skin and softening the damage with his tongue. You moaned, the sound getting lost in the haze of sudden frenzy. As though you were bound to die tomorrow, and this was the last chance to show each other the love you feel.

It was that thought that prompted you to break away. In search of oxygen mostly.

“Wow…” you gazed up at him, feigning nonchalance, “Thought we agreed on no PDA in the public spaces,” the stern glare breaking underneath the lovesick smile you could not hold back.

Because, after a kiss like that, how could you?

Neil shrugged, keeping his hands firmly on your waist, thumb gently stroking your side through the shirt. There was no remorse in those eyes, only fondness, and mischief. Whatever brought him here was bound to end in trouble. Perhaps that was the distraction you were seeking…

“It’s not my fault you’re stood here looking like this” another admiring look over your figure, finishing with a quirked smile and a pull to bring you closer once again.

It was difficult to deny him anything.

“Like what?” arching an eyebrow you searched his eyes for clues.

Up close, you could fully marvel at his long eyelashes and the exact colour of his eyes. The darker rim encircling the blue-grey depths, pulling you in and making you fall even harder. You always should have known that it was inevitable. There was no escape from eyes like those.

“Irresistible,” the word, falling from his lips in a pious whisper.

Inches left between your faces, gravity doing its work in bringing your nearer. Nothing left to do but breach the gap and kiss him, another way of thanking him for the compliment and getting the fix for the addiction. Now there was no need to hold back, after all.

“Huh…” you grinned, catching your breath once more, “How did you find me?” taking a step back to stop the temptation.

Because perhaps that was enough. The rest could continue in the privacy of your room. Whatever that might be.

“Intuition, mostly” Neil swept his gaze around the room, focusing on the speaker laying in the corner “And a little bit of luck since only you could be listening to ‘Big in Japan’ while training” his eyes narrowed, cheeky smirk dangling in the corner of his mouth.

Ah. The song choice coming back with a vengeance as you blushed for no reason.

“What’s wrong with Alphaville? That’s a banger,” the defence coming with an unnecessary but satisfying push aimed at the center of his chest.

Working perfectly, if the surprised gasp was anything to go by. He only needed a second to recover, the sparks in his eyes telling you that the response was bound to be quite something, and you better prepare.

“I’m not saying it’s not. Only that this is very much in character for the woman I’m honoured to call my girlfriend” a wink perfecting the delivery.

Yep, on point. Your face warmed up a notch, happiness almost incomprehensible.

“Ain’t you smug” masking the softness with sarcasm, you attempted a harsh glare.

However, all the intent crumbled the moment your speaker started playing the next song via shuffle. The soft piano, opening the ballad with a flourish. Nothing but corniness of the 90s and a love song to defy any other. As Bryan Adams started singing out the first lines in his husky tone, you groaned. Fuck you, Spotify.

“I didn’t take you to be this sentimental” Neil eyed you closely, mirth betrayed by the barely contained laughter.

Using the weapon you have been hoarding for too long, you aimed to school your features before noticing:

“Well… wise man once told me that we’ve all got our weaknesses…” the meaningful gaze doing the job as Neil grinned.

“Very wise, indeed,” the self-satisfied expression only deepening.

Before you could perceive his movements, he closed the distance, took your hand in his, and placed the other palm on your shoulder blade. Following instincts you did not even know you had, you hastily put your hand on his bicep in the ballroom dance position you have seen on tv. What the hell.

“What are you doing?” question coming out breathless as you stumbled to fall into the correct steps following his lead.

Lead to a slow waltz, of all things.

“Using the opportunity,” Neil adjusted the pace, letting you feel the rhythm before continuing, “Haven’t you ever dreamt of waltzing with the love of your life in a glitzy ballroom?”

It was the nonchalance that caught you. The way he said it without a stutter. As though he has used the words before, perhaps in the quiet of his mind or in a conversation.

“Maybe I have,” forcing the doubts to shut up you chose the noncommittal answer for the moment.

Letting your eyes speak instead as you met his steady gaze. A flash of a gentle smile and a thumb tenderly stroking your shoulder blade. Calming down and grounding within the moment.

“I know I did,” the affirmation added to the mix, complete with the kiss on your forehead.

'Look into your heart – you will find

There's nothin' there to hide

Take me as I am, take my life

I would give it all, I would sacrifice'

Bryan Adams kept on crooning as you moved slowly across the room. The relatable meaning of the words sung out making you hide your head in the crook of Neil’s neck, disrupting the formality of your position. Turning the waltz into a slow dance by making Neil pull you closer. He tightened his hold, fingers carefully stroking your skin, the contact keeping up the spark alive. A few more slides across space, your feet following his without hesitation. The synchronization perfect in the matched tempo. It was surprisingly easy to find the right rhythm; perhaps the chemistry did its work in that aspect too.

It was only once the song has reached the guitar solo part that you have managed to break the comfortable silence with a comment:

“This is… nice,” the adjective being the only one you could come up with.

All the other words disappearing one by one, dissolved in the wave of feelings. Happiness, most of all. And love you never imagined existing, let alone to experience. Neil chuckled lowly, his chin resting comfortably on the top of your head.

“Mhmm… Remember how we’ve first met?” the question catching you off guard.

Enough to miss one step and earn a little ‘tsk’ from him.

“Of course, why?” the audacity of the assumption frustrating.

As if. Because even now, you sometimes found yourself reminiscing on that day. The conversation, seemingly innocent, and yet have led you to this point. To everything you did not even know you were missing but now could not live without.

“Even then… when we were chatting over the coffee, I was intrigued,” the wistfulness in Neil’s voice causing long-forgotten questions to resurface.

You have never discussed that day in detail. But maybe that would be the chance. Gathering up the courage, you waited until you have completed the spin around the room to admit:

“Me too… I’ve always wondered… what was it when you’ve eyed me and said I’ll pass the training without issues? Just flirting?” curiosity creeping into your voice.

Not going unnoticed and acknowledged with a thoughtful hum. That was another thing you have thought of. Back then, his gaze only increased the interest. Now, knowing it was not only you that had many impressions after the meeting, it was harder to ignore.

“That was one of the few times when I broke my own rules of looking at people objectively” the explanation given with the needed depth “I always try to be respectable… to see everyone for their minds rather than their bodies” unasked, your heart let out a painful thump in awe over him “But with you, I- I guess my fascination got ahead of me” sudden shyness surprising, causing you to disrupt the dance by freezing in the spot “I was right, in the end” Neil met your questioning gaze with an apologetic expression.

That alone vouching for a kiss and a reassuring squeeze of a hand. You gladly accepted an invitation back into his embrace and another slow dance. Spotify proving itself useful with the next song choice – ‘Forever Young’. By Alphaville, again.

Neil’s snicker was met with a glare on your side and a light step on his foot, for good measure. It took you another few seconds to let the doubts speak up again:

“Was that really enough for you to see me? That one afternoon?” once the questions started, there was no end to them in your mind.

“Yes,” no hesitation on his side “Trust me, I was surprised too, but with every passing day I was thinking about you more. And now I know why” a nuzzle to the top of your head before he asked, “What about you?” inquisitiveness almost hidden by the neutral tone.

Might as well show your hand. Laying a small kiss on the side of his neck, you began:

“I’m not sure… I was curious about you” an understatement but always something, “You seemed so different and charming, like no one I’ve ever met before. And obviously, I had to acknowledge that you’re handsome as hell but… then I saw you flirt with Anna, and I thought that you’re one of those” the admission coming out with the resigned edge you did not fully intend.

It was quickly extinguished with a spectacular dip and a pirouette that managed to knock the breath out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your brain. Nothing but Neil left. As usual.

“I see… mind you, I was flirting with her only because I didn’t know how to talk to you yet” he carried on the conversation without a hitch.

Interesting.

“Did it matter?” you raised your head to be able to see his face for this one.

As though he was expecting scrutiny, Neil met your gaze with a steady look and a confident smile.

“Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” the intensity of the eye contact increasing.

The song starting to fade out amidst its 80s glory, the last of the synthesizer giving out its swan song with the needed cringe. Your dance slowing down to a small two-step, prolonging the moment a little longer.

“Which would be?” another question, because why the hell not.

Using your momentum, Neil slipped his fingers underneath the strap of your tank top, grin widening once he realised the lack of bra. The familiar sparks, making you wonder about wherever this was bound to lead you. About what could happen. A vague idea formed in your head, needing only closure to the chat.

“That I’m not serious,” Neil’s response bringing you back to the moment.

All the movement stopping, leaving you standing in an embrace in the middle of the space.

“Are you?” just a final test.

Even though you did not need an answer, everything that happened within the last days proving time and time again that he was in it hundred percent. That finally you have found the one.

“Very much so, my love” stepping out of the hold, Neil tipped your chin.

The depth of adoration in his gaze only bringing out fierce blush and the deepening softness threatening to make you melt on the spot from too many feelings and too much happiness coursing through your veins. Enough. For now.

You grinned at Neil as a means of accepting his answer and took a definitive step away from him, noticing the curious look on his face. Ignoring it for the moment, you quickly searched through the library to pick up something a little more appropriate. And less cringe. As you pressed play on the right playlist and faced Neil again, the smile you saw told you he had ideas towards your next suggestion:

“Do you want to join me for a little sparring?” you approached him slowly, the unexpected nerves making an appearance, “We’ve never done that together, and maybe… you can say no of course but-” as you faltered, the plan seemed to make less and less sense every passing second.

Because perhaps there was a reason why he never suggested it. Or perhaps, it was not something he would want to do with you, his girlfriend, of all people. Maybe-

“I’d love to,” the answering smile reassuring enough to let you know that all your issues have been noticed, “Don’t pull your punches just because it’s me” Neil closed the gap and took your hand in his with a wink.

There was no way of stopping that grin from appearing on your face. Tightening the hold over his hand, you made sure to put on the most intimidating expression in your arsenal.

“You wish, sunshine,” a kiss on the cheek just because, followed by a wink to tip off his mirroring smile.

Let the games begin or something. You watched as Neil took off the pullover, leaving him in the t-shirt, and joined you on the mat. The final thought was that this sort of activity could end in many ways. Some of them rather intriguing. However, all distractions had to be left behind if you were to win this one. Which was easier said than done, as you eyed your opponent, coming up with the strategy. Because of those damned blue eyes and fascinating body proportions that were hard to ignore, no matter the circumstances.

With the final nod, it began. You crossed the space to aim a kick at Neil’s shin, using the element of surprise and height difference. As you hit the mark, he let out a surprised yelp and glared at you offendedly. A giggle escaped your throat as you made sure to put up the guard, expecting retaliation to follow. And it did. A lighter kick in your ankle, and then an attempt at punch towards your shoulder. That one, thankfully blocked, with your rendition of the shooting daggers.

The sparring followed this rhythm for a couple of minutes, drenching your shirt with sweat and increasing the adrenaline with every move. As it proved, Neil was an excellent partner for that too. Your dynamic working perfectly as you bounced off the different techniques and styles, learning from each other in progress. Soon it became a matter of prediction, of staring at him intently to determine the very next step and to block it efficiently. A few mistakes resulted in bruises here and there, but it was nothing compared to the elation flowing through your veins. The occasional compliments and teases interrupted the flow, bringing out more feelings than you ever deemed possible to exist. At once. Joy, excitement, fatigue, and desire slowly combining into the strangest mix inside your head.

Because one thing was certain – it was increasingly difficult to ignore the way it felt when Neil got close. His strong arms, usually acting as your refuge, now a barrier you had to get through to win this battle. The closeness intoxicating as you tried to wrestle out of his hold, imposed by using the moment of hesitation on your side. But then who was to blame you for getting lost in his eyes? Again. With his chest pressed against your back and the forearms blocking any form of movement, you decided to put it all on the card of fate, hooking your leg around his in an attempt at a backflip taught by Ives. That was another fatal mistake.

You only realised how badly you have fucked up when you opened your eyes to see Neil peering down at you with the most annoying of grins painted on his face. Eyes sparkling with satisfaction that certainly should not be there. Shit. He got you pinned to the mat with hands trapping you underneath him. Not much space between your bodies. A fierce blush bloomed on your cheeks; embarrassment combined with sudden arousal once the exact placement of your limbs sunk in. The earlier misstep resulted in having your legs wound tightly around his waist and crossed over the back. Just like-

“This position is rather… familiar” the husky whisper broke through the sudden onset of feelings and thoughts as you met his gaze.

The darkness of the irises and the boundless depths of desire you found there providing the missing piece in the puzzle. The heat turning up a notch. Unable to break the eye contact, you watched in fascination as Neil seemed to consume you on the spot. His pupils widened, betraying the feelings reigning free over his mind as he contemplated the very next move. Frozen, you could only wait helplessly, feeling the well-known tension rise, causing havoc in your head. Still, what he chose to do next, caught you off guard.

He leaned in and captured your lips in an eager kiss, easily stealing away the breath and distracting you from anything else in the whole world. As you opened your mouth for him without hesitation, Neil used the moment to strike. His tongue caressed yours in exact opposition to the way his hips jutted forward, creating friction. The surprising ploy, drawing out a gasp and making you break the kiss with a telling hiss. The answering mischievous smirk the only warning before he did it again, rocking his body forward against yours, upping up the temperature, and making the warmth pool in your lower stomach instantly. The wetness, collecting on your underwear and sticking to the skin in an impulse you could not control.

“Jesus, Neil- You can’t just-” frustration poured out in incoherent sentences as you fought for sanity.

He, naturally, took that as the cue to up his game. The deadly smile was the last thing you saw before he bowed down, tongue darting out to lick down your neck and then cover the space with kisses. A groan escaped through your lips as you grabbed onto his biceps in search of support. A logical part of the brain told you to stop the madness (and drag him to your room to continue), but that voice could be barely heard through the overwhelming haze. More kisses, teeth grazing over the skin, hands slipping underneath your top, and using the lack of bra to cause more drama.

The added touch onto your breasts was what defeated the sanity and caused you to roll your hips against his, matching up the tempo in the frantic attempts at getting something out of it.

“Fuck” heaving out the curse, you could not stop the moan caused by Neil sucking on your pulse point below the ear.

All the reasons against continuing something this good disappeared one by one. The synced-up movement, making you breathless within seconds. The arousal, seeping through the underwear, only increasing with the way you could feel Neil react to it as well. The telling signs of his lust rubbing off against your crotch upon every thrust. Getting ever harder to ignore with sounds breaking up the forgotten sparring soundtrack.

“That good?” Neil’s question dripping with need as he rasped out the words upon your hungry kiss stolen in the moment of eagerness.

No point in holding back now. Grasping onto his chin to stop him from distracting you with yet another trick, you made sure to show the extent of want raging in your veins:

“It would be without all the bloody clothes in the way” piecing the sentence, you huffed with dissatisfaction.

Because after something like this, you wanted him. No, needed him. Anything to finally release the tension and catch the high. Because, as you began to discover, it was too easy to get addicted to him. To the pleasure, he always seemed happy to give you. To being wanted and needed like never before.

Even now, Neil seemed entranced, eyes searching your face for something. Whatever he needed, you delivered with the want in the unguarded look, for he grinned and nudged your nose with his.

“I like seeing you this needy, darling” choosing no mercy whatsoever he stole yet another hungry kiss.

All the while keeping up the friction. As if you could ignore the feelings building up for a minute longer.

Using the opportunity, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged at it with force. Drawing out blood and groans. A punishment. To strengthen the effect, you made sure to tangle your fingers in his hair, imposing light pressure. Enough to make him suffer a little more, but not as bad as to make him more predatory. That was another thing learned in the past days. You were right Neil had a hair thing. And using it right could work to your advantage. With satisfaction, you broke the kiss and watched as he opened his eyes, unfocused gaze and shallow breaths giving the needed bravery.

“Bastard,” you whispered and used his moment of hesitation to initiate the retaliation.

The answering smug smile giving more reasons to push on with the plan. With the full attention provided, you slowly licked your lips. A trick that always worked, making Neil stare with that same look of starvation hidden in his eyes. It was the confidence you were seeking to hook your leg around his and find the impetus to complete the switch in one smooth attempt.

It worked. You comfortably straddled his lap, pinning him to the floor. Only a shocked gasp told you he caught up with the change. You met his gaze smugly, using the new position to run your fingers up and down his chest, light teasing included in the act of vengeance. The answering groan more than gratifying, making you even happier to give him the taste of his own medicine and roll your hips forward.

“I like this new development,” Neil breathed out the comment, hands settling on your hips, “You know what, though? I’d love to see you snap one day. Get annoyed by my antics and punish me” it was the way he said it that made you freeze with one hand already underneath his shirt.

As though it was exactly what he wanted. Interesting…

“Is that what you’re into?” arching one eyebrow, you trailed your nails over the skin on his chest.

Watching the goosebumps with fascination. The light bruises on the sides reminding you of the morning the day prior and the sudden passion that resulted in marks all over your bodies.

“I’m into you, but yes,” Neil observed you with strange pensiveness, “Even a man like me needs to be dominated from time to time,” the challenge in his eyes already inspiring scenarios within your mind.

“That can be sorted then” you winked and used that moment to stand up, leaving him on the floor with mouth open wide.

Perfect. Grinning, you brushed off the dust from your clothes and strode over to the speaker, ignoring Neil pointedly. Only an exasperated sigh told you he managed to pick himself up. Using the towel, you wiped off the remains of sweat from your brow and turned back to him with a neutral expression:

“I’ll go shower,” you quickly eyed him, taking in the ruffled hair and flushed cheeks, “I’d ask you to join me… but I don’t want to traumatise anyone using the communal bathroom for that” a meaningful look making sure he understood.

The slight double-take all the needed confirmation. Neil swallowed hard, as though the suggestion was enough to make the images appear before his eyes. But then he flashed you a confident smile.

“Fret not once we’re back home, we’ll catch up on that. I’ve got that spacious shower for a reason,” a tiny shrug as though to make you remember.

Right. Another thing to add to the bucket list, no doubt. However, for now, you were not done with the taunting. He did deserve it.

“I see… do you often use it for those kinds of purposes?” draping the towel around your neck, you strolled towards him with an inquisitive look.

Another shrug. Hands reaching out to be placed on your waist and to draw you closer, keeping that one metre of space just for show. His eyes searched yours with feigned nonchalance before responding:

“Not really. But with you, I want to change that up a little. After all, I’ve got to convince you that having sex with you is wonderful,” followed with a nose nudge and a smirk.

For once, there was no shyness. Mirroring his moves, you put your hands on his sides, thumbs slowly stroking the hipbones, pulling him closer. Once your bodies were flush against each other, you grinned:

“Mutually” and then, upon noticing the well-known beat coming from the speaker, “One might even say you’ve brought the sexy back” a wink, using the lack of inhibitions in the air.

The answering gaping mouth and eyes widened in shock were good enough indicators that whatever this mood was, it should continue. After a second of confusion, Neil started laughing hysterically, collapsing against you with ease:

“… Jesus Christ,” he choked out the words, drawing you into a skewed hug if only to preserve the closeness.

The sudden outburst of happiness was not controllable even if you wanted. Giggling quietly, you waited for him to calm down, running your fingers up his back in a soothing manner. Once his laughs eased, you whispered:

“Sorry, blame that on JT” an apologetic shrug followed with a chaste kiss pressed to his temple.

The cheerful sparks in his eyes, telling all you could need to know. Thanks, universe.

“No, I love it” Neil’s words brought you back to the present moment as he took your hands in his “I love you,” the sincere confession breaking up the ridiculous atmosphere with tenderness.

“You better” your smile widened as you squeezed his hands in a non-verbal response.

It was only once you were heading out of the room, after at least three passionate kisses and some more infatuated gazing, that Neil chose to pick up the abandoned line of teasing.

“Make sure to think of me during your shower” you turned around, mouth open wide “For inspiration. I’ll be waiting” there was no mistaking the look in his eyes or the intentions behind it.

There was nothing left to do but walk out with cheeks burning red and head too empty to do anything but what he proposed.

For a good purpose, as the afternoon then showed you.

***

With the night falling on the last day before the fourteenth and the battle, you could feel the internal darkness creeping with every passing hour. By the early bedtime, there was nowhere to hide. Laying on the bed and waiting for Neil to come back from his shower, you could do nothing but stare at the ceiling blankly. Thousands of worries, questions, and scenarios multiplying in your head, threatening to steal away the remains of peace. It felt as though the curtain has fallen over your blissful days, leaving nothing but uncertainty. Because God knows what would happen at Stalsk. The plan was one thing, perfect execution - a different one.

With lungs failing to expand properly you considered getting up and marching outside to let the cold air give you something else to worry about. That is when the door to your cabin finally opened, and Neil walked in. A sight for sore eyes personified. Mindless of your struggles, he sent you a smile before placing the morning outfit on the chair. It became a ritual of sorts, with him bringing back the change of clothes to prolong the waking up period and stay in bed with you. Despite the anxiety rising exponentially, you could not help but smile at the tradition upheld on the eve of the battle. You watched in silence as he took off trousers and placed his phone on the bedside table. It was only once he sat down on the bed and faced you with fondness in his eyes that you knew the act of staring has been caught.

“Alright?” Neil reached out and tipped your chin to make sure you could not hide.

Gently his fingers caressed your jaw and down the neck, soothing the nerves and asserting his presence. You leaned into his touch and whispered the white lie:

“Yeah…” desperate to extend the bliss even a second longer, you joked lightly, “Was beginning to worry you’ve decided to ditch me tonight” shifting forward, you rested your forehead against his.

Closing your eyes and letting the feeling of being wanted envelope you in its sweet embrace.

“You wish,” the tint of joy in his voice adding on to the perfection of the moment, “There’s no getting rid of me that easily” Neil tucked the hair behind your ear, stroking your temple slowly in the process.

It felt almost unreal to have someone love you like that. So carefully, yet with a passion that did not seem to wane. The only thing left was to believe it. And let your feelings lead the way. You opened your eyes to find Neil staring back with the softest of smiles gracing his features. That was enough to whisper back the answer:

“What a shame,” and capture his lips in a hungry kiss.

Knowing the moves by heart, you have tangled your fingers in his hair and opened the mouth to deepen the kiss. It was always too simple, an act of devotion and a drug you could not imagine giving up. Each brush of his tongue against yours bringing sparks of electricity and pleasure, a promise of so much more only waiting to be taken.

Without breaking up the contact, you shifted to lie on top of Neil, stealing small pecks interrupted with smiles and sighs. Not knowing what bliss feels like, you assumed it must be like this. Because nothing seemed to come close to the feeling of being loved and wanted by him. To feeling the steady heartbeat as you pressed up against him in the closest of embraces. To having him grin against your mouth, interrupting the kisses with happy giggles, and stroking your back underneath the shirt in a simple act of tenderness.

It was once you felt his touch tread onto that well-known territory bridging the line between want and intimacy that you leaned back to meet his gaze. Slight confusion found in the blue eyes as you fell back onto your side and took his hand in yours:

“Can we… not do this tonight?” the tentative whisper broke the silence as your nerves spoke up again.

Because despite never having enough of Neil, tonight you wanted something innocent. Something easy. Asking for it felt almost wrong as if it could be too much. With the countless worries anchoring within your mind, you focused all your attention on studying his hand attentively. The thin scars scattered across the skin. Neatly trimmed fingernails and elegant fingers betraying the sensitive nature of the man you loved without any inhibitions. Neil as always noticed the sudden shyness, for he kissed you on the forehead before answering:

“Of course,” the affirmation given without a stutter, as he retracted his palm from underneath your clothes, “What do you need?” with the free hand cupping your cheek, he forced you to meet his gaze again.

Concern and affection. All the needed encouragement to speak your mind. To reach out for everything he wanted to give you.

“Hold me, please,” forcing out an uncertain smile, you wound your arms around his waist, snuggling in to find the perfect position.

But it was not enough.

“How do you want me?” the question asked with the glimmer in his eyes that told you he remembered the night from London.

Months ago, while also something that has not happened yet. Linearly, that is.

“Closer” this time, the answer could not have been simpler.

Neil accepted it with a hint of a smug smile as he pulled you close. Spreading his legs for yours to fit in-between. Hips flush against each other, heartbeat synced. Hands clinging to the warmth of your skin, his lips pressed against your temple. No inch of space left. Exactly as you needed.

With the brain strangely quiet, you breathed in his scent, letting the reality catch up. Yours. The soothing warmth of the embrace and solidity of his body underneath your fingertips making you feel safe. Even if only for the moment.

A short moment? Prompted by the harsh reminder of time running out mercilessly, you tensed and splayed your hand over his heart. A clear signal for Neil to tighten the hold and nuzzle your temple. Waiting for the words to come spilling out of your heart.

And they did.

“I- There’s so much goddamn noise in my head, and it’s beginning to drive me mad” after finishing the sentence breathlessly, you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

Smelling the bergamot and hints of your perfume, increasing the love held within your system. Following the instincts, Neil started running his fingertips up the curve of your spine, giving you something to focus on. The steadiness of the movement grounding you back in the present.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” the soft tone melting the edges of sharp blades penetrating your mind with anxiety, “I can’t stop the thoughts, but I’ll make sure you know I’m not going anywhere,” confirming the meaning, he took hold of your hand lying on his chest and laced the fingers.

Another way of showing support. Of letting you believe your luck. Nothing left but to press a kiss to his neck and whisper:

“Thank you… We’ll be alright, won’t we?” the question forcing itself on your tongue.

Because it was all that mattered. For you and Neil to survive. To have time to love each other. But… tomorrow is promised to no one. The counterarguments preparing to strike with force as they assembled at the bottom of your heart. You could die tomorrow. That was a fact, as true as the knowledge that the world could end. The bomb could go off. This could be the last moment of peace you would have. And there was no way of knowing whether it was. The fear creeping in with nothing to stop it.

“I hope so,” as though sensing the growing unease, Neil raised your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

You need not look at him to know what you would find in his beautiful eyes. It was the knowledge of feelings reciprocated that gave you the courage to speak the truth. To reassert what he already knew. Just because it could be the last time.

“Earlier today, after we’ve… I’ve realised that… I’ve never been more in love,” stumbling through the sentence, you whispered the confession against his skin, “And I don’t want it to end” a deep breath to gain back the momentum “I need you, Neil. You’re everything I have…” you faltered, feeling tears blur the edges of your vision.

As if your heart knew something you did not. As if being this vulnerable was the trigger you were seeking. There was much more you could tell him, but no words were found for it. Instead, you felt the embrace tighten as Neil kissed the tip of your ear tenderly.

“We’ll be alright, my love,” the endearment getting lost in the quietest of sniffles “I’ll make sure of it” he hesitated, the edge of your breakdown impacting him too with the emotions betrayed in every syllable, “And I don’t know if it needs saying, but… You’re my everything too. I’m not going to give up on us,” the definitive promise offering all the strength for you to raise your head.

Tears shining in your eyes as your gazes met. Worth fighting for.

***

The feeling of safety gave way to worries not longer than an hour after you finally gave in to sleep. Gasping, you opened your eyes in a flash after a particularly terrifying and confusing nightmare full of inverted rounds and ticking bombs. Blindly you rolled over to the side where you would usually find Neil, only for your hands to clutch at nothingness. Shit. The realization working better than any alarm clock as you sat up and turned on the lamp.

Empty room. Darkness outside. Neil’s phone left by the bed. Next to it a piece of paper torn out of a notebook:

“Couldn’t sleep. Find me on the bridge if you need me. Yours, N.”

The initial tugged on your heartstrings as you quickly made up your mind. It was only past one. And there was hardly any chance of going to sleep now. Without him by your side and with the brain haunted by terrifying dreams. You stood up and quickly got dressed in the hoodie he left the day before and joggers.

The moment you stepped outside the cabin corridor, the silence and cold hit you with their starkness. Usually, at this hour, the icebreaker would be alive with the sounds of the crew and troops getting ready for the night. There would be groups chatting in the mess or the galley. Soldiers catching late-night sparring sessions or betting on who would get more bullseye shots at the shooting range. Not tonight, though.

Without stumbling upon a single soul, you walked over to the bridge. Cold hands clutched together in the hoodie pocket. Untangling only to deal with the zip by the airlock.

Once you crossed the threshold, you knew you were in the right place. The silence finally interrupted with voices. Most importantly, with the sound of Neil explaining something in those soft tones that always brought you peace. The darkness of the room enlightened by the single fluorescent above the empty table. Kat was sat in the chair opposite him, focused on what he was saying. As you took off the oxygen mask with a quiet sigh, they both turned to you. Neil brightened up in a flash, a soft smile lightening up his face as he reached out for your hand. You sent Kat a shy nod as you let your boyfriend pull you down onto the sofa:

“Hello,” she grinned, giving you both a satisfied once-over.

The echo of the conversation you had the day before ringing out in the spaces between words. Nothing left but to relax into the pillows and give them both an apologetic shrug:

“Hi… Hope I’m not interrupting” you watched as they shared an amused look, followed by Kat getting up to make tea.

You knew instantly what this was. A moment of privacy.

“Never” Neil’s voice made you turn to him only to see the affection pouring out from his gaze.

Gently he took hold of your ice-cold hands and warmed them up between his palms with care. It was too easy to feel the love fill your chest again. As if switched back on whenever Neil was nearby. Somehow the darkness felt less frightening with him by your side. After a beat, you answered the unasked question:

“I woke up without you, and…” trailing off, you looked at Kat pouring water from the kettle into the mugs.

She seemed entirely focused on the task, mindless of your conversation. Using the encouragement, you moved closer to Neil and captured his lips in a quick kiss. He responded instantly, placing his hand on your cheek to draw you nearer and take whatever you wanted to give him. This time, because of company, the contact ended in a happy sigh a few seconds later as you pressed your forehead against his for a moment. Just enough to share a look of love and a shy grin. Hearing the unmistakable sound of teaspoon clanking in the mug, you leaned back, away from him yet keeping your hands locked in the space between you on the sofa.

“Sorry. I couldn’t fall asleep and didn’t want to wake you. So, I came here and stumbled upon Kat,” Neil explained, breaking the silence and acknowledging the other woman with a sympathetic nod.

Using that line as her cue to turn back to you, Kat handed you both warm mugs. Only a grateful grin could be given before you took a sip and let the tea melt the remains of ice that settled in your chest. With the comfortable silence setting in, you asked:

“Nerves?” giving the woman a quick once over, it was easy to determine that she too has been struggling with the night-time demons.

The shadows under her eyes, hands clutching tightly at the mug as if to find comfort in the warmth it provided. Making you appreciate the hand holding yours even more than you deemed possible.

“Yeah,” Kat swallowed hard, her gaze focusing on the darkness outside “Suppose it’s nothing for you, in a business like this but… I’ve never had to deal with a world-ending situation. Let alone have it depend on me. Partially” she finished the confession with eyebrows knitted together.

“In truth… neither did I” Neil leaned forward, the sombre look in his eyes settling on Kat, “Sure there were some missions of a bigger caliber than a few boxes of inverted artillery smuggled across Scotland… but nothing exactly like this” hiding grin caused by his answer, you took a longer sip of tea.

There was something incredibly true about him at this moment. Discussing the topics of deadly nature yet adding jokes and anecdotes to keep you all that one step away from despair. Tightening the hold over his hand, you added:

“The grand plan,” murmuring the words you once heard TP say, you reflected, “I bet my uni professors would never quite believe it if I told them that this is where international relations got me” feeling Neil’s gaze, you turned to look at him.

A crooked smile and hair falling into his eyes. Perfection.

“More like fate,” he countered, thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly.

Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from grinning too widely, you nodded:

“That too,” or I’d like to believe it is.

After a beat, you both faced Kat again, only to encounter her knowing smile, curling the lips with a sharp edge of steel. Then her expression softened as though realising the reality once again.

“Are you scared? Of having to do this… together?” it was the hesitancy that helped you understand the meaning.

You knew Neil caught up too, for her moved an inch closer. Shoulder to shoulder, knees touching. No unnecessary gaps. Together. Just when you thought of answering her question, Neil cleared his throat:

“A little… It’s like… on the one hand, I’m glad we’ll be on the same team, as then I can keep an eye on you” he gave you a little shoulder bump as if to accentuate the addressee, “But then I’ve always been warned about being emotionally compromised during missions. Trouble is I’ve been compromised like that for months, at least” an apologetic shrug to complete the sentence.

He was not even looking at you. Yet, it was too easy to understand what he meant. An excuse for the warmth to settle in your heart again. Months. More reasons to keep fighting for the future.

“Sorry,” returning the nudge, you frowned, “On my side, ever since you came up with this idiotic idea to deal with the lock, I knew I’d follow. Because there’s no way in hell, I’d let you do it alone. But, as you say, the element of emotional compromise is there. God knows I’m terrified of whatever might happen,” the ramblings only stopping because you have run out of breath, “It’s like… when you’re young, and you want to change the world. Sometimes you even begin to believe that it’s going to be your purpose. To be the hero and save the day. But most people grow out of that and never even get the chance” ending the observation, you noticed the two pairs of eyes focused on you.

Kat’s light blue gaze, staring wistfully, nothing but understanding and melancholy. As if whatever you said triggered something deep within the confines of her heart. As if she was grateful.

Neil looked as though he could not quite believe you existed. As though your words made him fall even harder. And then he shook himself awake again, clutching your hand tightly.

“But we do” he nodded lightly, offering support should you need it.

Letting you know that the fate of the world was not only on your shoulders. We. That pronoun again. In response, you could only give back the voice to those things that you still wanted to share with them:

“Yes, exactly. And the child that still occupies parts of my heart… she’s excited to be the hero. While grown-up me is just terrified of the stakes” staring at the dark horizon, you noticed quietly, “Never did I dream of saving the world from an inverted atomic bomb-”

“-Well, actually-” Neil interjected with his picture-perfect, MA in Physics tone, making you roll your eyes affectionately.

Idiot. You exchanged an exasperated grin with Kat before stopping him from starting up a lecture about the details of the Algorithm with a hand clamped over his mouth.

“Shut up, mister smarty-pants” your smile widened at the shocked look in his eyes before you lifted your hand and continued, “But at the same time it makes sense… sort of” faltering, you looked around the space looking for something else to say.

“I know what you mean. I never expected any of this to happen to me, but now that it did… I guess I should’ve seen it coming” Kat had your back, agreeing with your words with the same sense of apprehension in her voice.

It was easy to tell what she meant. The guilt entirely unnecessary yet unavoidable for someone this good. Your need of protest got cut short by Neil:

“Kat, don’t blame yourself for not knowing what Andrei is doing. None of that is your fault” upon her pained look he gave her a reassuring smile to confirm the sentiment.

“It’s easier said than done… but thank you” she offered him a weak attempt at a smile and then looked at you with sparks in her eyes, “You got yourself quite the catch there,” a tiny nod in the direction of the blonde man.

Indeed. Unable to stop the happiness rising in your chest, you countered her look with a smug grin of your own:

“I know” ignoring the blush spreading across Neil’s cheeks, you patted him on the head, “He’s incredible,” an appreciative look at your boyfriend and the free hand placed on his knee.

That woke him up.

“He? I’ve got a name, you know,” the feigned spitefulness making a giggle rise in your throat.

Neil glared at you, the act only betrayed by the very way the corner of his mouth curled up, disrupting the frown. Forcing a poker face, you chose to just go for it:

“Yes, and it sounds as though you were English pensioner spending days playing bingo on Malta,” the slight delivered perfectly.

Gratification instantaneous, with Kat laughing hysterically in the background as you observed Neil’s reaction. He froze mid inhale, eyes widened, showing nothing but confusion. And then his mouth opened to choke out:

“…what the-” before he could get to the expletive of choice, the sound of the zip lock interrupted him with abruptness.

Before either of you turned to check who the newcomer was, you met Neil’s bewildered gaze and shrugged. Squeezing his knee as addition and lifting your hand to make the position a little bit more neutral.

“I see it’s not just me who can’t sleep” Wheeler’s voice ringing out in the room made you turn to look at her.

Stood by the entrance, she gave you all an assessing look. Somehow her appearance felt right. Another grounding voice against the rising unease and panic. Someone to pull you back down from the anxious high horse.

“No rest for the wicked” Neil seemingly got over the previous paralysis, for he offered the woman his best rendition of a devilish smirk and threw his arm over the back of the sofa.

Hand landing perfectly by your shoulder. Simple intimacy.

“What’s on the agenda?” Wheeler strolled across the room to sit on the chair by the table.

Dark gaze nonchalantly slipping over the two of you on the sofa. She was never the one to comment on what she observed, but the way she looked at you was enough. The label was painted in the cheeky smile, hidden in the corner of her mouth. Lovebirds. Somehow you knew that at some point, you would be cornered and made to tell the story with necessary details. If only so that she would have digs in the arsenal of sarcasm at a ready. Ignoring the desire to run away, you answered the question:

“Mostly discussing how strange it all is. You know, us of all people, getting a chance to be the heroes” sensing the apprehension rise again, you added, “I feel like if they knew their fate is down to us… they’d be terrified,” a chill running up your spine.

Suddenly uncomfortable, you inched closer to Neil, using his raised arm to lean into his side and find solace. He understood the intent in a second and pulled you nearer, shooting you a quick concerned look. Questions were no doubt coming after.

“And I wouldn’t blame them,” Wheeler agreed with your grave statement with the usual pensiveness, “Normally I don’t get this jittery before missions… but this one feels more important” she stared at the horizon, lost in thought.

With the anxious thoughts waiting around the corner, you searched your head for anything to light up the mood. A stupid joke or a snide comment. But there was nothing.

“Like something could go wrong?” Kat interrupted your train of thought with the simple question.

Alarmed, you looked up to notice the two women exchange a tense look. It really could go wrong. The worst type of wrong.

Neil sensed the way you stiffened, for he pressed his lips to your temple and gave you a quick kiss. His hand tightened the hold over yours, increasing the feeling of being protected. Got you. As always.

You barely noticed when the airlock opened again. Or when another person walked into the room and took off the oxygen mask.

“What’s all this then?” Ives looked around with the eyebrow raised pointedly.

With the whirlwind of emotions, the only thing left to do was to plant your face in your palms, groaning loudly. What the fuck.

Feeling the questioning gazes of everybody else, you slowly raised your head and asked the soldier with blatant tone:

“Could you be any more British?” a mirrored arched eyebrow for the additional effect.

Maybe he was the distraction you needed. The final piece in the puzzle.

No bullshit taken as Ives grinned and gave you the showpiece bow borrowed from The Crown.

“Top of the morning to you, luv” straightening, he raised his hand to tip off the invisible top hat.

The snicker coming from Neil was the only response you ever needed as you rolled your eyes and hid your face in his chest. No point in pretending.

“Couldn’t sleep?” stroking your back slowly, Neil asked the question.

You appreciated how he accepted your sudden need to be comforted. With the careful touch running up your spine, gently scratching the skin, your thoughts slowed down to an acceptable white noise.

“Yeah. The bunk beds are fucking awful, and I’ve no one to cuddle me” it was the neutral way he said it that made you break out into a violent laugh.

The kind when it is increasingly harder to catch your breath, yet the lightness permeating the chest makes everything worth the aching diaphragm and tears running down the cheeks. You heard Kat follow suit, the light giggles bringing hope you wished to find in the darkness of the night.

“Sorry mate, I’m taken,” Neil shrugged, gesturing towards you.

From the comfortable position, you could make out the smirk on Ives’s face as he threw the remark:

“Traitor,” he sat down on one of the empty chairs and noticed, “Anna will be heartbroken, mind you” a passing glance at the two of you snuggled on the sofa.

At the reminder of the receptionist, you sighed heavily. Because yeah, sure, there was nothing to regret in the best turn your life could have taken. But spiteful looks and cold treatment from Anna were not on the list of things you wanted to keep on experiencing.

As if following your line of thoughts, Neil waved his hand dismissively:

“Oh, she’ll get over it,” you grinned at the hint of irritation in his voice, “Plus, it’s not like I’ve ever promised her anything… Not my fault this one came along and stole my heart,” placing his palm on your thigh, he gave you a loud smack on the forehead.

You raised your head in time to see Ives look as if he was close to getting sick on the floor. For once, you could not blame him.

“Dramatic much,” glaring at Neil, you bopped him on the nose with a poker face.

The only sign he noticed was the deepening state of perplexion visible in his blue eyes.

“Who’s Anna?” Kat’s innocent question was the one to throw you out of the strangest conversation and back into the present moment.

Exchanging a glance with Neil, who shrugged as though permitting you to share the tale, you began. Right where it started for you, with the flirting over the admission papers on that first afternoon. Omitting the more private details of your story, and with Neil’s help with the background, you have managed to entertain her with the account of all things Anna. By the end, Kat was looking at you both with eyes wide and cheeks wet from laughing.

It only got better with Ives and Wheeler contributing to the discussion with tales from the past and anecdotes of their missions long before you came into the picture.

When the silence finally fell again, it was less charged with tension. Sipping a second cup of tea, you rested your head over Neil’s chest, comfortably curled up and content.

“What do you want to do after this?” Wheeler asked the question after a beat with a smile on her face.

Nothing needed clarification. An attempt at making the morning seem less daunting. A spark of hope for after – the magical space where you desperately wished to find yourself already.

“Go to a pub and get pissed” Ives grinned from over the rim of his mug, devilish sparks lightening up his blue eyes.

Too tired to react, you chose to sigh heavily and catch Wheeler’s bemused glare as she scoffed:

“How typical” she rolled her eyes and smiled at you as though sharing a private joke.

Men.

“I was planning to invite you along, but now I’m not so sure” the solder cut back with a feigned sulk.

“I’d rather catch up on all those missed boxing classes,” the retort coming without a second missed, causing a giggle to rise in your throat.

Who knew team banter would be the cure for all ails?

That and the steady embrace, holding you close with hands resting on your knee and waist. Letting you know that no matter the future, he was there. All yours.

“Boring,” Ives murmured the response lowly, earning shooting daggers from his second in command.

You felt Neil chuckle as he rested his chin on the top of your head, observing the conversation silently. Your eyes fell upon Kat, a little separated from the idiotic narrative that overwhelmed the four of you. Suddenly feeling a wave of sympathy towards her, you asked:

“What about you, Kat?” as your eyes met, you sent her a small smile.

“I want to go home to Max and finally live my life without that fear of Andrei lurking in the shadows behind my back,” the candid answer whispered almost shyly, “Sorry, I’ve made it all dark-” she added, looking at the rest of you with panic.

Before you could jump in with reassurance, Ives spoke up:

“It’s alright,” he countered her embarrassed look with a stone-cold resilience, “I offer to shoot that fucker on sight if he somehow comes out of this alive” a shrug to complete the proposal.

The genuine grin on Kat’s face was unmissable.

“Appreciated” she nodded curtly as if to mask the initial reaction.

Before you could ponder on it for too long, Wheeler broke the silence again:

“Neil?” her gaze slipped over you once again, the smirk still hiding on her lips.

You felt him raise his head, tightening the hold over your waist as if it was necessary. And then…

“What I want to do is between me and my girlfriend,” the cheeky undertone making you blush instantly and slap him across the knee in an ill-fated attempt at chiding.

That spark of curiosity not easily diminished, however. You made a mental note to ask him as soon as you were alone what that meant. Because, admittedly, doing things with Neil was the height of your wishes too. And most of those were best kept private.

“Thank fuck”

Ives’s candid reply brought you back to the moment in time to hear Neil add:

“-But… I just want to go on holiday. Spend at least a week without stress and the weight of the whole world on my back. And maybe visit my parents… it’s been way too long” the melancholic tone did not get unnoticed despite the panic that crept up your spine.

Following the basic instincts, you lurched forward to be able to look at him. There was no mistaking that confident expression.

“Should I begin to worry? Because ‘meeting the parents’ sounds… official,” you whispered the word with apprehension.

Yes, that sort of thing was probably expected, given how serious he was. But still. The fear of making an idiot out of yourself in front of Neil’s family enough to trigger the anxiety once more. Somehow it sounded worse than dying in the Siberian shithole tomorrow.

With the tense silence that fell, you could almost hear the way the rest of those present were staring at the two of you with curiosity.

“We are official” Neil reached out to brush away the hair falling into your eyes, “We’ll talk about it later. After,” the soft smile administered perfectly, cutting through your worries in an instant.

Maybe you could survive it. Maybe.

“So… Y/N?” at the mention of your name, you looked up at Wheeler.

Right. Diplomatic, subdued answer it is.Somehow it got easier to find the words with Neil’s hand resting on your knee again.

“Holidays would be nice, certainly” stealing a glance at your boyfriend, you exchanged an excited grin, “And maybe some time to walk around London, appreciate life… I don’t know I think I miss the mundanity. Getting coffee on my way to the lecture; visiting random shops and browsing the shelves just because I could. No inverted bullets, no timey wimey bullshit” with the spite thrown in, you left out a long exhale.

That life seemed so far away now. Almost like something out of a dream, rather than your reality before Neil and Tenet. While you would never wish for anything but your current circumstances, sometimes you missed the normality. The lack of danger waiting upon every corner. No necessity to consider fatal sacrifice in the name of love. Normalcy.

“Think you two have travel agency visit booked,” Wheeler commented, looking between you and Neil with a knowing smile on her lips.

Using the most basic of gravitational pulls, you turned to face Neil with a hopeful look. With how close you were seating, only inches of space left between your faces. Despite the tiredness and insomnia, he was utterly stunning, taking your breath away within seconds. A part of your brain wanted nothing but to press your lips against his, mindless of the audience. As though using the same wavelength, Neil glanced at your mouth for a split second, causing a resurgence of butterflies in your stomach. They never seemed to get a rest anymore. Sharing one last long look, you nodded at the unasked question and awaited his response:

“Mhmm… I like the sound of that” another happy grin and a hand grasping yours tightly, “But now, I think we should try sleeping” stifling a yawn, he finished the tea and stood up to wash the mugs.

Using the slightly awkward silence, you jumped up from the sofa and sent the rest of the group a grateful grin:

“Thanks for this… whatever this was” shrugging lightly, you felt a wave of gratitude fill your chest with warmth.

Suddenly the morning felt a little less terrifying. Perhaps for once, you did belong. For once, you were not alone.

“Always up for chatting shit on the eve of the battle” with the bemused smirk on his face, Ives got up and gave you a quick pat on the back.

You only registered that Neil was back by your side when he placed his arm over your shoulder protectively:

“One could even say… that the real treasure is the friends we made along the way” it was the casual way he said it that made you look at him incredulously.

“Is that… Disney?” with your eyebrows knitted together, you tried to find remains of coherence.

Again: what the fuck.

“Maybe,” shrugging, Neil grinned at Ives as if nothing happened.

“Are you regretting your life choices?” the soldier ignored him and stared at you without a shadow of emotion discernible.

With the overwhelming tiredness and brain cells dying one by one, it was easy to choose.

“Maybe,” parroting Neil, you grabbed his hand “You, with me” without protest, you steered him towards the exit, “Think you need rest,”

Just before you could zip up the airlock after the two of you, Ives’ comment broke the silence:

“Take care of each other out there. I want to get an invitation to that wedding” he shot you a serious look, hiding the concern evident in the blue eyes.

Biting harshly on your lip to prevent the sudden need to run back in there and hug him, you raised your hand in mock salute:

“Yes, sir,” a final nod of understanding before you closed the door.

It would be alright. It had to.

#tenet #tenet fanfic #neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 2

a/n: lmao this is set in the first ever inter-high so no kyo yet 😢

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

I can't wait for yn to meet other volleyball teams. Oikawa refuses to let her see Tobio

I LOVE THIS GIF AND MY HEART LEAPT OUT OF MY CHEST WHEN I SAW THIS LIKE AAAAAAAA

again, we go with the crackheadery

so, basically,,

at this point,, you werent exactly very familiar with the boys but not new so you were kinda already part of the family but there hasnt been any,,,,, deep attraction (??) that developed by the others yet

but this doesnt mean that they arent territorial or protective you!!!

when yall walked in the hallway, you were already catching looks bc wow seijoh just has everything huh

you were walking behind coach irihata until you overheard someone asking where oikawa was and you saw yahaba sweat a little when he didnt know where his captain was

while iwa went to go and get the captain, you had to do a head count to make sure no other player was missing

kunimi and kindaichi were glaring at other players who were eye-ing you since they were in charge of you whenever iwa or oikawa were gone

but mattsun and makki were publicly making it clear that you were,,, theirs

‘y/n-chan, come give senpai a hug. hes nervous for today’

makki whined and again, you werent very familiar with them yet, but familiar enough to give them their hugs

he hugged you from behind while you reviewed their notes and with his chin on your head, his eyes mockingly glared at the different schools with a smirk playing on his lips

my god were they such drama queens like bls

finally, oikawa arrived and he skipped over to you

‘y/n-chaaaannnn!!!! oikawa-san is sorry for leaving you aloneee!!!!!!’

but you didnt even look at him, continuing your review

‘dont do that next time, oikawa-san. you made iwaizumi-san look for you and held up the team’

you bluntly scolded and oikawa had teary eyes

‘y-y/n-chan, im really sorry! y/n-chan!’

he wailed and ripped you away from makki and into his arms instead

meanwhile,,, the other teams are like 👁️👄👁️

you continued your walk to the gym but oikawa had his arm around you, as if telling others you were his while iwa held your hand as he sent everyone a warning with his eyes like if they laid a finger on you, he would snap their arms in half

it made their blood boil as the eyes of these,,, testosterones,,, kept staring at you and running their eyes up and down and you squeezed iwa’s hand before he could go over and rip their eyeballs out of their face

woah there mister

as you entered the gym’s bleachers, oikawa kept you in his arms and the karasuno team were confused bc they didnt see a manager when they had their practice match

‘yohoo, tobio-chan, chibi-chan’

you sighed and gave the black and orange team an apologetic smile

when iwa smacked oikawa, you bowed slightly

‘sorry about him’

oikawa hurriedly hid you behind him and pouted

‘no, stay away from their sights, y/n-chan. theyre not worthy to lay their eyes on you’

you elbowed him though

‘what kind of nonsense are you spouting?’

‘but you are oikawa-san’s, y/n-chan!’

he whined and tobio was like, ‘oh, another girlfriend then’

bahahaha, hes so used to seeing his upperclassman with a girl and hes just like, ‘best of luck’

you shook your head and raised a hand with a smile

‘hello, my name is l/n y/n and im their manager. please excuse my captain and carry on to your warm-ups’

karasuno nodded wordlessly, taken aback by how cold yet pretty you were

it was like the younger version of their own kiyoko shimizu!!!

the others settled on their seats while iwa and kindaichi leaned over the railing to get a better view but oikawa was disinterested, arm around your shoulder and you were only closer to him due to his warmth

you pouted bc iwa-san was standing and you missed his warmth but oikawa would have to settle for now

the nearby teams that came to watch the match were giving you looks and especially the green-jacket team were staring so,,,, so hungrily,, at you and oikawa twitched at how disgusting it was

you were watching the game but was distracted when oikawa leaned his head on your neck, breath hitting your skin

‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’

you asked but he shook his head

‘oikawa-san really loves you, y/n-chan’

he made his voice a little louder to make his point across and the others diverted their gazes in a hurry when his cold smirk met their faces

you shrugged

‘thank you, oikawa-san’

makki and mattsun snickered at the dismissive answer but oikawa didnt care because all he wanted was to make the other boys back off

you heard oikawa mumble serveral times about some tobio-chan and you guessed it might have been the blueberry looking head that he taunted earlier since he couldnt have been a chibi

ngl, you were attracted by how seemed to ooze talent and you leaned forward, wanting to get more of a look of him

ofc OIKAWA THREW A RIOT and he pulled you back, placing a hand on your thigh

‘y/n-chan, careful, you might fall forward’

he stiffly warned but he truthfully didnt want you to get a closer look on his kouhai

you kept your gaze on the karasuno setter and held oikawa’s hand to get it off of your thigh

‘im okay, oikawa-san. i just want,,, a better look’

you mumbled and oikawa was staring at you intensely

oh my god, what if you recognized kageyama as a better player?

would you leave him?

would you think hes a terrible setter?

worries racked up on his brain but he snapped out of it when you turned your head after feeling his stare

‘are you okay, oikawa-san?’

you asked, worriedly since he was pale and his eyebrows were furrowed

‘y/n-chan, do you think tobio-chan is better than me?’

he asked, eyes focused on your face but so faraway

you quirked your eyebrows but still answered

‘no, i dont think so. ive never seen him play before and this is my first time so ive never really gotten a gauge of his skills. besides, youre really good so its unlikely hes better than you, or anybody else for a fact. your sets look so much,,,, whats the word,,, connected?,, yea, much more connected therefore better for our team but his is very,,, glitchy,,,?? other than that, youre still better than anybody else in my eyes. why? are you doubting yourself again, oikawa-san? because if you are, i will bonk you again’

you threantened but he let out a relieved chuckle

he placed a hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair, a smile on his face then bowed his head low

‘go on, then, y/n-chan. bonk oikawa-san’

you turned to share a bewildered look with yahaba and watari

‘no. because you asked me to, i wont. youre so weird, oikawa-san. wanting me to do weird things to you and being so confusing’

you mumbled cutely and oikawa bit his lip to contain his squeal but held your hand tighter

‘y/n-chan, youre not good for oikawa-san’s heart’

he whined but you punched his arm

‘be quiet, oikawa-san. look, that chibi’s flying!’

you pointed and that was enough to distract him from you and towards the game

when his gaze was away, you gave him a worried glance

you heard from iwa that he was insecure and suffers from inferiority complex but you didnt know it was this bad

that was it

you were going to help him realize he was a great player and he is equal with everyone and no one is above him because hes talented and his hardwork makes up for those losses

when karasuno emerged as victors, the team stood up to make their leave and prepare for their own match but you strayed away, claiming you needed to use the bathroom

‘we’ll wait for you, y/n-chan!’

oikawa said but you waved your hands no

‘i-,,, need to use it and besides, i have a friend here! please, go ahead!’

iwa gave you a suspicious glance

‘who is it? we can still wait’

you pouted and huffed before giving them your puppy eyes

their eyes widened and they nodded, stuttering that they will meet you in the gym

when they were finally out of sight, you ran down hallway and finally found the black-jacket team gathered by an entrance

it was hinata who noticed you and pointed at you, claiming you are the goddess seijoh manager

but you didnt mind and focused on the blueberry

‘kageyama-san?’

you heard iwa mention him and you figured it was his last name

the poor boy was stuttering and awkwardly nodding in greeting

but you clenched your fists

‘i might not be a professional or a volleyball enthusiast but oikawa-san recognizes your talent and he considers you a rival so i do too. kageyama-san, karasuno, we will defeat you. you will face oikawa-san and iwaizumi-san and mattsun-san and makki-san and the others and you will tremble at our strength so play with everything you got because no matter what, we will win. congratulations on your win with your match but i noticed you holding back on them. if i see you, karasuno, kageyama-san, not playing your best, you will face my wrath. keep that in mind.’

you bowed deeply and they were so taken aback bc adkfj;sadfkjask what is going on why is this little chibi threatning them why is kageyama being pointed out what

sugawara let out a shocked chuckle before fussing at you to stand back straight and to not bow at them

you nodded but you held out your phone to the blueberry, a gentle smile on your face

‘i understand you are iwaizumi-san and oikawa-san’s underclassman from middle school. if you would, please exchange contacts with me and you can tell me stories about my boys so i can use it against them to rein them in whenever they get out of control, especially oikawa-san’

lmao y/n whos child are you

poor kagellama tobiyolo stopped functioning and it took sugawara to put in his contact for him

YOU CANNOT TELL ME SUGAMAMA DOES NOT MEMORIZE HIS CHILDRENS CONTACTS

you finally gave everyone a bright smile and waved your hand

‘ill be going now. thank you for your contact, kageyama-san, and expect a text from me later. karasuno, continue playing and the next time i will see you will be in the court. thank you’

when you left, they were still frozen

and kageyama was so red and so flustered bc not only did a girl talk to him, but a PRETTY GIRL talked to him

‘kageyama?! oh my god kageyama’s broken! help!’

seijoh saw you entering the gym and they fussed over you and asked where you went off to since it took you a long time

‘i just talked threatened to kageyama-san’

at the mention of that name, everyone stood still

but when you mentioned you exchange contacts

oikawa screamed

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ktinastrikesback · 3 years

Note

Tina! Ive been rewatching S4 and I have an urgent observation for your analysis:

So in Breaking Point (my sleep paralysis demon, as you know) in Christopher's room there is that little board by his door with those four drawings tacked to it: one pic is a boat in water, one is of trees, one is of a rainbow, and one is of his family showing him, Eddie, and Shannon.

In 4x13, they show this board again but all those pictures are gone. In its place is some generic poster about music.

I am in a state of peak hiatus crackheadery, but do you think there's a parallel or some greater symbolism here? Especially considering this episode marks the shift of Chris's family dynamic (Buck being his de facto guardian)? After the universe mobile and the Moving Poster I am highly suspicious about all backdrop objects.

@kitkatpancakestack my love! Thank you for sending me this! I was actually rewatching some scenes the other day and wondered when exactly they changed the board in Chris’ room, so thank you for providing me with an answer! Interesting that it changes between Breaking Point and Suspicion.

I think they’re probably just trying to shift Chris into his pre-teen era, but it’s also interesting that the family drawing including Shannon goes away after Breaking Point. “I wish I could forget,” Chris tells Buck, and then of course Buck assures him that if people leave, it’s okay to miss them, it’s okay to move on. Maybe Chris keeping that drawing up was his way of holding on to that memory, and his conversation with Buck helps him decide to take it down. I don’t know what the significance of the trees and rainbow may be, but I am pretty sure the boat links to the tsunami. Perhaps Chris’ removal of these drawings is him finally being able to let go of two major traumas from his past and move on.

Of course, it’s most likely that he just wanted to redecorate his room/the prop department wanted to change things up, and I made this sad/emotional for no reason 😂 But best believe, I will be hyper-vigilant about the solar system and other universe imagery in s5!

#kitkatpancakestack is the best #Breaking Point haunts me too #good observation!!#I’m interested to see where our universe theory goes as s5 starts #I hope they continue with it #and it wasn’t just a season 4 thing #I love Chris #911onfox #911 speculation #christopher diaz

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

How Day6 would react to overhearing you admit your crush on him to one of the other members

AN: a request from anon. i feel ive treated this more seriously (and focused perhaps more on the confessions themselves, bc i interpreted ‘crush’ subconsciously as ‘having long-term-feelings for’) than you meant in your request but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Sungjin

“hyuuun, i’m in love please make it stop.” “only way that’s going to happen is if you go tell him.” “...i hate you.”

sungjin... i picture is going to date to marry (or an equivalent if marriage is not for you, as though i get the vibe he’s quite traditional, for the right person he would be very easily convinced), so he takes crushes and confessions quite seriously

probably would feel bad for eavesdropping

then would feel happy that you felt the same way

but then more serious issue of now having to confess would take over

would spend a long time thinking of the best way to do it

would probably settle on a classic walk or cinema/theatre depending on what’s showing

would make damn sure he and you would be alone while confessing—so to save both parties from pressure and embarrassment should things go wrong

also he’s quite a private guy and would want to let others know on his own and your terms

ngl probably wouldn’t admit he’d overheard you until like... a long time later

it would be under the initial reasoning that he would wait until you were stable so it wouldn’t have too big of an effect

but then he would forget

until it randomly came up in conversation

like we may even be talking years here

maybe when you live in your own place, just the two of you, and you’re hanging out with him and younghyun who is just refusing to go home bc the food is too good at yours who brings it up

“i don’t understand how it took so long for you two to get together, like even wonpil was starting to find yn’s pining sickening.”

and you would be salty, because “excuse me i hid my desperation very well!”

and sungjin would just immediately come to support you because he’s a loyal motherfucker and would begin, without thinking “she did, i didn’t know until i—”

that would be when he stops himself bc hes like oh shit i didn’t tell her and now two very curious sets of eyes are like staring at him and he’s 98% sure he can’t backtrack at all

“when you what?”

and he would just sigh “when i overheard you telling younghyun that you liked me”

and there’d be a moment of silence, followed by laughter

youngk would be confused, probably, having a surprisingly better recollection that you perhaps would “wait i remember that—how did it take you two months to work out what to do next?!”

and you end up just laughing harder, before noticing the the mix of emotions on sungjins face and reassure him “it doesn’t matter how long it took, we’re together now”

anyway overall sungjin is probably quite serious about it, but it will have a happy ending, you’ve just got to be patient lmao

Jae

“dowoon, what do i do?”

jae would be playful about it

after hearing you ask dowoon for advice since hes good friends with him he would be ecstatic, but would try and keep it lowkey

he’d hide out of sight of the doorway he’d passed by to have his little moment

and then he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling

his eyes would keep glancing to you for the rest of the day, even more than usual

but i think he would want to make things more official as soon as possible, as he doesn’t want to waste any time when he could do it sooner and be with you

and so he’d ask if you had a spare moment on the day or so, and take you some place quiet

not necessarily his room, more likely just outside the front door in the warm summer air

and ngl i think he would totally pull the “i think you know why i summoned you here today”

of course, yall have no idea, but you’re used to his occasional crackheadery—otherwise why would you crush on him so hard? “not a bit, but if its a trip to get snacks you don’t even have to ask, i’m in”

“well, that is a plan for later... depending on how this goes”

that’s the point where you would get confused and begin to wonder if something is up, but hel’l continue “i found out something really cool today yn.”

“really? was it the pin to brian’s credit card?”

he would laugh but shake his head, “nah even better” and that would give you the heads up that this was serious, and it would occur to you that he might have overheard something

but it becomes obvious when he follows with “a little bird... told me that someone, likes someone else, in our group. our friendship group.”

you briefly consider panicking, as the whole thing could still be construed as him not liking you back, but you put on a brave face and push through, “oh really? who?”

“that’s the problem, i don’t know, but i was wondering if you did.”

the chance was clear for anyone to see, and seeing the glimmer of hope, you seize it “well, i know someone who likes you... but i’m not sure if its mutual, so that might be why they haven’t said”

“if it’s who i think it is, then it definitely is... mutual” he would admit

and that would be the closest the two of you ever got to literally word-for-word confessing, because out of nerves neither of you would probably be able to admit it at the crux of the moment

however, like in all the movies idc if its cliche you would gravitate towards each other, and that would be the moment where you both recognised your feelings as well as shared your first kiss together

ok i’m going to stop before i combust

anyway as for whether he’d admit he’d overheard you, he would probably be quite quick to the chase on that one too, probably right after the kiss and you’ve spoken about it a bit more, he’ll probably just say “i kind of accidentally overheard you telling dowoon, please don’t be mad at me”

but how could you be, you’d gotten what you wanted after all

in conclusion, jae is lighthearted about it and woudn’t waste any time

Younghyun

“wonpil did i tell you how much i love his eyes?” “hmmm... perhaps... but tell me again, to just to make sure.”

god bless wonpil his emotional support would be A+

right off the bat our youngk is a songwriter

he probably finds a lot of inspiration out of love

and so his feelings for you coalesce to create love songs that he may or may not use in the future

anyhow, it means that to cope with his feelings he’s probably half composed something small where he admits them

with little intention of you probably ever hearing it at all

or at least, not without big chunks edited and names changed/cut

but when he overhears you rambling to wonpil who doesn’t mind the sappiness a characteristic you probably got off our brian anyway with his occasional borderline emo-ness

he’s grateful to his past-self for starting it, and realises that maybe its time to finish it

so it’ll take a week or so for him to finally confess

bc even though hes a bit of a flirt, i don’t see him wanting to tarnish love, since he owes it so much and its not fun to play with someone’s heart, especially not yours

so it might take him a little longer, and when he gets round to it, it’ll be perfect, just like you in his eyes

so prepare to be serenaded

yes, that sort of serenaded

in dim evening light, with the sun’s glow beginning to fade and make way for the stars, flickering like the candles laid out for you

again, that classical vibe won’t be missed on him

as for whether he’d tell you, probably only if you asked, but he would add that he’d been writing the song beforehand

he just may not admit to not planning on ever performing it

overall? when it comes to romantic flair, kang younghyun is king

Wonpil

“sungjin, uh, do you know where wonpil is? i can’t—” “isn’t he at your hip?” “as much as i kind of wish he was, he kind of isn’t.”

wonpil, my lovely sweetheart

probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself from just

walking straight in when he accidentally overhears you to ask right there and then

like, you’re probably pestering talking to sungjin in the kitchen or another equally frequented place, so it was likely that someone was going to overhear anyway

and maybe that was part of sungjins plan dont put it past him

but also it meant wonpil got further into the room the hunt for sustenance spurring him on, you know how it is before he caught onto what was being said, thus making it harder to back out

thus sungjin knew he’d overheard, but you with your back to the door were still clueless

and would’ve stayed that way had wonpil not continued and straight up asked or sungjin not said anything, which lets face it by this point he was really considering doing

he would be really excited about hearing that the feelings were mutual, and you were right there so what harm was really being done if he did just straight up waltz in?

as soon as you heard his small “you like me too?” you would whip around

aaand that would be sungjin’s cue to leave

“do you mean that?”

“it only feels right when you’re by my side, pillie.”

the words you would exchange would be in a soft flurry of emotion tbh, out of disbelief but excitement for the future

most likely ending with you embracing, foreheads resting against one another’s

fluff hours only in the house of pil, ok?

Dowoon

“jae, do you think dowoon will be free tomorrow?” “yea why?” “i want to take him to the cat cafe—” “oh my god is it happening?! is it really happening? are you finally going to tell him? plan ILU is underway?” “keep it down!” “oh god everybody stay calm, stay fucking calm—!”

my bean

my lovely bean

would feel guilty over accidentally eavesdropping, and this would reflect in his shyness later

however, he decides to run with the silver lining of having the chance to be prepared for tomorrow

and so he would not say a word and try and act natural

especially when you ask him if he wants to go out somewhere with you the next day

he’s not sure how he did, he tried to hide his ears as best he could but he was also well aware you knew him too well

when the next morning rolls around, he’s up early, getting ready in nice clothes that he hopes aren’t suspiciously too nice

and then he waits, trying to calm is nerves, before realising that maybe ignorance is bliss

when the time comes and you make your way to the cafe, he finds it difficult to act surprised, but also to try and keep his breath steady

finally, near the end, after asking if he had a good time and wanted to come back, you confess you liked him and it’s as if a weight lifts off his shoulders

he would kiss your cheek soon after, without much warning, out of relief and joy and nerves and a whole lot of else

and you’d probably pull him in for a proper kiss by his collar as soon as you’re sure he’s ok with it

and then the fact he eavesdropped would be a secret that he would die with

~~~

Masterlist

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thenatashamaximoff · 3 years

Note

DhJheq lmfaoo mysterious stranger where u at I miss ur crackheadery 🥺

Yeesh, you act like they haven't been here all morning

#anon ask

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Note

MISS MA'AM. I'VE BEEN MIA FOR A WEEK AND I COME BACK AND I SEE THAT YOU HAVE CAUSED CHAOS??? Anywho,,, I read through all of the updates and like the rollercoaster of emotions you put me through should be illegal. Like one moment I hooting and hollering that they're finally together and one moment I'm about to cry because poor yoobi and their poor little cottage. I am NOT okay. I am emotionally recovering from everything and then you release the remix, that au will honestly be the epitome of crackheadery

you said YOOBI THATS ONE I HAVENT HEARD YET AND IM HERE FOR IT HONESTLY its very good to have you back i was wondering where you were aljrgnejgneg

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bakugouscentedcaramel · 5 years

Text

👀Crackhead Hours🥖

I know what you're thinking... But this was only a matter of time let's be honest

I'm not sorry

Bakugou

"I am not a fuckin crackhead"

Cue him screeching pop lyrics at 3am in a sleep deprived state, yes he's sang God is Woman in the most angry tone possible

Will 100% drum a beat on any part of you, if you call him out on it he will either deny it or do a Five Finger Death Punch drum solo on your ass cheeks, don't test him

Acts like your crackheadery is an inconvenience but will beat asses if they call you out on it

Hyena laugher once he really gets going

Midoriya

This boy might not seem like a crackhead but boy.. have I got something to tell you

If he can't sleep he will stay up until 4am compiling All Might conspiracy theory videos and disproving others

Will post them on YouTube unknowingly

Some of them get pretty heated, once he uploaded a 5 second video of him just having a confused face for 3 seconds followed by "Just NO ITS NOT LOGICA-"

Embarrassed by everything if you bring it up to him

Will wife you on the spot if you help him make more videos like this

Todoroki

The unknowing crackhead

Will randomly wake you up to ask some very random questions

"Y/n, have you seen the meme where they show the aerodynamics of a cow"

"Hey, I know it's late but, do you think pigs get upset when they can't see the sky."

"heeeyyy Y/n.. do you think the God's miss you in heavens sky"

He either says some crack material or something golden that you have to process before realizing what he said

Loves the faces you make, even if it started as an honest accident

"Why the hell would you make a grilled cheese from the oldest food known to archaeologists?"

Cue you laughing hysterically

Shinsou

The mediator™

Hardly has any crackhead hours but definitely radiates crackheadery

Sarcastic comments that you find overly funny 100% of the way

"You sound and look like a dolphin let's go-"

"Breathing is necessary you know"

"How can you even make that noise?"

Tries to put you in bed the moment he senses the crackheadery begin

Fears the day you and Denki have crackhead hours together

Kirishima

He eases into crackheadery

Definitely follows mob mentality, if you're gonna be a crackhead he's right there with you, "we ride together we die together" kind of man

One time the dorms only heard cackling down a dark hallway and they feared for what they didn't know

Banshee laugher™

High-key, laughing is how he has his abs

Not to mention it's a bonding time for you both

You both try to have mini competitions to see who can get the other to eventually piss their pants laughing

So far it's a tie

Overly wholesome crackhead

Denki

This boi is a licensed crackhead

Will jack a shopping cart and blast Running in the 90s in a supermarket

Inhuman noise making

Will 100% wake you up with memes

T poses at the foot of your bed before screeching "LETS GET THIS BREAAAAAAAAD"

You had to make a "Be normal stick" a duct taped magazine to beat the meme out of him

Will regularly tell you to meet him in a Denny's parking lot

Pun man

Would a shock collar even work on this feral crackhead?

Dabi

King Crackhead

Do not challenge him for his crown

Drove a golf cart while blasting Gas Gas Gas, it was only going 15mph

Will throw off cashier's by adding a weird ass item in his cart, ex: toaster, bread, lightbulb, bra, 'happy birthday grandma' card

Makes it a competition to fuck around in Walmarts

Has gotten kicked out of one due to him jumping into a ball cage and proceeding to arm himself with the metal cocoon

Walks in your room wearing pillows that he duct taped on himself wearing a heavy duty biker helmet, proceeds to blow a blow horn when you're napping peacefully

Evil cackle™

Hawks

The Fuckboi Crackhead™

Shakes up pop/beer in the fridge before you open one

Firecrackers

One time you came home to him full on weeping only to find he was actually cry-laughing

He might've dressed up a chicken in his hero outfit

The whole over the top sarcasm

Sends you a pic of him in a non discript part of the town burning a bag of garbage captioning it "I took care of it babe, it won't ever even look at you"

Shitty smirk™

The king of the slow burn giggle that turns into hysterical laughing

✨Bonus Boi✨: 🖐️Shigaraki✋

Groans every time he feels your energy shift

Acts like you're being too childish

Bring up the "Incident" and he'll shut up

He might've gotten a bit too drunk and found two lightsabers

Definitely recreated the "ALL WOMEN ARE QUEENS" "IF SHE BREATHS, SHES A THOOOOOOT" with.. himself

He might've accidentally knocked himself out with the lightsaber fight with himself

Dabi sent you the video for leverage for "Whenever he gets out of hand"

He wants nothing more than to turn your phone into dust but he knows you have copies

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cherries-n-rocknroll · 3 years

Text

My uni is so um how should I say it.... not enough queerness you know. I miss my lesbian and bi homie 😪 the chaos, the mentally unstable brains, the crackheadery. Why did we have to get separated. We were a team. A team of neurodivergent dumbasses who each had their own hyperfixating and are unable to make phone calls like an adult. A queen obsessed dumbo, a k-pop lesbian and a bi with a boyfriend and a cat. I dunno where I’m going with this but yeah. I hope you’re having a nice day whoever reads this 😌

#this is chaos #also feeling kinda better #ahhh yes pharmaceutical drugs 🥴

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jincherie · 5 years

Text

fox rain | intro

• ☽ — pairing: bts x reader • ☽ — genre: crack, fluff, angst, college/uni au • ☽ — words: 9.9k • ☽ — rating: sfw? • ☽ — warnings: this is PRIME crackheadery and headassery, this is literally such a mess fuckk, anyway-- accidental voyeurism, extreme amounts of stress, sleep deprivation (uni life amirite) • ☽ — notes: lets get it miss FOX RAIN!!!!!!!! also: links will be put in at a later date

— posted; 04.05.2019

When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well... maybe not as easy as you think.

— • masterlist | intro | next • —

Living as a University student paddling through your second year means that, as one would expect, you aren’t exactly a poster-girl for good decision-making—especially when it comes to things like sleep and time management. Those two areas in particular are probably your biggest weakness, but at least, you think as you pass through the brief lawn that marks the beginning of your University campus and join the throng of tired, yawning students, you are not alone in your suffering. Inability to catch the recommended hours of sleep and manage your time is a common trait among the student population.

It is your poor strength in these areas that landed you where you are now; dead-tired and still dealing with a delayed stress response that was lingering from yesterday’s deadline. You were up stupidly late last night, running on probably about four hours of sleep across three days, and barely coherent as you hastily emailed one of your assignments to your professor. It wasn’t all that hard for you, but you’d forgotten and by the time you realised the deadline was looming so close it was practically on top of you. You’re pretty impressed with yourself that you managed to make it, in all honesty.

You aren’t unfamiliar with this particular state of exhaustion, but thankfully aren’t as completely out of it as you feared you might be when you finally allowed yourself to sleep last night—or rather, this morning. Which you feel might be a good thing, because if you were any more tired than you are right now then you probably wouldn’t have noticed the change in the air as you amble deeper into campus.

Chatter isn’t uncommon in the people you pass on your way to class most mornings, but currently the air is buzzing. A sense of excitement, anxiety and trepidation mixes together within you, a cocktail with a taste eerily similar to fear, as you push forward. The people are excited, animated… you don’t like it. What is there to be so hyped up about at 8AM on a Friday morning? You decide to ignore the buzz and continue to plod on as intended.

You don’t get too far before your ears are catching excited gossip and hushed whispers exchanged between friends, despite your best efforts.

“…who though? Do you think its someone we know? I really…”

Your ears burn with the effort it takes to strain them, but you’re still walking and now too far to catch anything more from them. The next few people you pass do an excellent job of filling in the blanks one by one, offering their own jigsaw pieces to complete the mystery in your mind. Each new thing you hear stirs a certain sense of paranoia in your mind, the voice that always whispers, is this about you? Usually dismissing it is easy, but the more you hear, the more a tendril of dread begins to twirl within you and entwine around your bones.

“… do they know it’s been leaked? I feel so bad for them…”

“… apparently it was sent to their whole class? That’s so embarrassing…”

Oh god, is it you? Something was leaked? Was it nudes? Wait—you don’t have any nudes to leak. Well, not digital ones anyway. You do your best to ignore the paranoid voice in your head that tells you the poor person everyone is so fussed about is you, hastening your pace and heading towards the building that houses your Music Composition class with renewed vigour.

The people you pass in the halls seem to be abuzz with the same news that everyone else was, and it’s at this point that the dread curling within you is joined by a powerful, burning curiosity. You want to know, god do you want to know what everyone is whispering about. What the hell happened that has everyone like this? How had you not heard anything by now?

More snippets of conversations brush your ears as you near your room, something useful finally brought to light as you hear someone mention an infamous facebook page made by students of the university. Perhaps that is where you will find the answer to the questions flitting across your mind. The morsel of excitement within you is squashed suddenly as you catch something else.

“… what an idiot, to accidentally email everyone. I mean, it’s something I’d probably do, but still…”

You almost trip as your legs freeze and your spine goes rigid, one very important detail surfacing from the depths of your memory. That sounds like something you would do too, and the realisation that just last night you were emailing something particularly sensitive has a horrified sensation sliding down your spine. Suddenly very, very worried, you bolt over the remaining distance between you and the classroom doors.

Your increased speed from before has landed you there much earlier than usual, and the few students that are normally there at this hour shoot you mild looks of alarm before returning to whatever they were talking about before you burst through the doors in your dishevelled, panting state. The teacher isn’t here yet and to your momentary delight there is much more space available, leaving you a wider spread of choices for your seat that what you usually have. You decide to plop your ass in a seat against the wall in the middle-back of the room, quickly pulling out the necessary items for the class and then whipping your phone out, nearly yanking your earphones out by accident in the process.

Hastily, with speed and agility you didn’t even know your fingers possess, you pull up the email app you have hooked up to your private and university emails and slam your fingertip onto the ‘sent’ tab. It takes a second to load, the duration of which you spend resisting the urge to vault yourself over the desk and flee, but when it does you feel your heart drop through your stomach in horror.

The first thing you notice is the abundance of typos and poor grammar that litter the very brief but very incriminating body of the email, and you internally die a bit as you take them all in. The second thing that catches your eye, to your absolute horror, is the actual email address you sent it from. You feel your cheeks catch fire, flooding with heat that spreads all the way to the tips of your ears, and you have never regretted not deleting that stupid, stupid email address you made when you were twelve, more than you did in this moment. You’d not even come anywhere near partly to terms with those first two observations, when you unwittingly make your third, and arguably the worst, observation.

‘bcc: Jodi, Yuki, Jacob… and 423 others’

On god, you’d fucking emailed your heartfelt poem-turned-assessment piece to the entirety of your creative writing course.

You sit in horror for a moment, brain producing some sort of static in the absence of intelligent thought. You feel kind of faint, would it be very alarming to your classmates if you suddenly passed out? Probably—you slap a hand to your cheek, the person in front of you jumping and turning around in alarm at the noise. You don’t even have the presence of mind to assuage their worries because your embarrassment meter is completely fucking maxed out and if you make eye contact with another human being in the next few minutes you know for sure you’re going to combust. God, oh god this is literally your worst nightmare—you’ve had nightmares about shit like this since the night before your first day in high school. Is this karma? You can’t think of anything you’ve done in your meagre years on this earth that would be atrocious enough to warrant a fate like this.

It is in the midst of your current humiliation-fueled crisis that you remember some of the people you passed mentioning a certain facebook page that the university students here held dear— CCU Love Letters, a page where shy individuals could anonymously submit love letters or other such media for the page to post without it being linked back to them. A new shade of horror begins to paint your insides and it’s almost at double speed that you bring up the app on your phone and search for the page in question. It takes a moment to load, but when it does you’re once more stuck fighting the urge to throw yourself over the desk and run away.

There, for all to see, is the poem you’d spilt part of your heart into and submitted as what was supposed to be a confidential assignment piece.

The sight of how many likes, reactions and comments there are already alarms you, but it is as you’re avoiding the comment section that you notice, with an incredible feeling of relief, that nothing like your name or anything similar is present to possibly link it to you. Pausing, you switch apps and go back to the email, scanning it to confirm your suspicions. The great gust of relief that passes your lips has a few heads turning as more people enter the room but you don’t even care, too busy trying not to cry as you console yourself.

Sleep-deprived and incoherent as you were, by some serendipitous miracle you’d forgotten to tack on your name or anything that identified you in the original email, aside from your student number. Even then, the only way someone would be able to link that back to you would be if they find your student card or hack the school systems or something. You’re really about to weep in relief right before your class starts, resting your face in your hands. Have you ever been so close to death that you could almost taste it before? The answer is that you haven’t, but today you almost glimpsed the ruler of the heavens and you’re not keen to repeat the experience.

Attempting to quell the remaining anxiety and humiliation swirling within you, you give yourself a pep talk of sorts. It’s fine, everything is fine. There is no way that anyone would know it was you, and yeah a private poem meant only for your eyes and the eyes of your teacher— perhaps even the person you had in mind while writing it— had been shared to a very public platform where the entire student population could view and read it, but it’s fine. Why? Because they have no way of knowing it’s you who wrote it. A shuddering breath leaves you as you attempt some sort of abridged form of meditation. Fine, it’s fine. You know what? You bet that by the end of your class, no one will even be talking about it anymore. It’s probably old news already, you doubt the mass of student that have better things to worry about than a leaked poem are going to keep being so fussed about it.

Yes, you reassure yourself as the teacher finally enters the room and you begin to prepare the necessary items. By the time your class is over this humiliating incident will be long gone and forgotten in the minds of the student populus, and everything will be fine— just fine.

x x x x x x x

Sweet cheese and bacon rolls, things are not just fine as you leave your classroom two hours later and return to the halls that are now ten times more busy and bustling than earlier. You’d stayed in the room long past the time your class was over, using the excuse of studying on the spot, but now you can no longer avoid leaving as the next class’ students begin to filter in and you dart out.

The buzz is worse, everyone is still talking about it and even though it kind of makes you want to throw yourself into the lake on campus you keep self-soothing with the reminder that no one knows the author of the poem is you. Slapping a half-assed smile onto your face in an effort to convince yourself and think a better mood into existence, you leave the building and head towards the food court. You’re in need of comfort and food mightn’t be the best answer but at least it’s better than letting loose a blood-curdling scream in the middle of the road.

Twenty minutes later finds you sitting at a table in the outside area of the food court with newly bought coffee and a big kebab, dissociating as you attempt to ignore the obnoxious chatter about you know what that floats around you. It’s to no avail, evidently, and you pout as you finally reach for the kebab that’s been sitting there for the past few minutes, untouched but still warm.

“... Are you eating a kebab?”

You don’t even jump at the sudden sound of a voice to your side, remaining in your seat and facing forward as the owner comes around to sit across from you, seat scraping the ground. The familiar sight of your best friend as she gets comfortable in front of you makes the urge to spill your current troubles to her rise within you, but just barely you resist. It’s already a mess enough as it is, you don’t need to add to it.

“And if I am?” you ask, raising a brow in challenge. If she’s surprised you’re getting defensive over food that is clearly a very indulgent choice, then she doesn’t show it.

Sera instead laughs, her eyes closing in her mirth as she sweeps her hair over her shoulder and out of her face. “Seriously? It’s almost ten in the morning, you didn’t want something a bit lighter to munch on? Lunchtime isn’t that far away.”

You grumble incoherently, taking a generous bite of the food in question and glaring at the sweet chilli sauce that threatens to drip down your hand as a result. She simply smiles at you, taking out the container of fruit she likely cut up and packed the night before along with a fork, and digging in. This is a bit of a ritual, since your classes align every second day or so— the two of you usually meet after the first class of the morning for something to munch on and chat over. You both eat in silence for a while before she speaks up again, the chatter of a nearby couple apparently reminding her of something she had to say.

“Oh!” she bursts around a mouthful of kiwi fruit, pointing her fork at you as her eyes widen almost comically. If you weren’t busy attempting to chew and not choke on an alarmingly sized mouthful of meat and lettuce, you might have laughed. “Did you see?!”

Ignoring the feeling of apprehension beginning to seep into your abdomen, you tilt your head in question, prompting her to continue. Thankfully, the overly excited girl takes a moment to finish chewing what is currently in her mouth before she speaks once more.

“Did you see?!” Sera repeats, with just as much zest as before. She quickly amends her statement at the perseverance of your questioning gaze. “Or rather, did you hear? Everyone is talking about it!”

The feeling of apprehension in your tummy grows heavier, weighing it down further, but you can only continue to chew your food with a sense of resignation as the girl reaches into her bag for her phone, pretty, manicured fingernails tapping against the screen with a satisfying sound once it has been retrieved from the depths. Her fingers fly across the screen a few times, metal bangles around her wrist tinkling as their charms collide, before she is setting it down and sliding it over to you. Just as you had expected, what she is showing you is the CCU Love Letter post that displays the entirety of your shamefully romantic poem. You swear, the one time you let yourself be a sap and it gets plastered all over the internet for the entire campus to see.

A part of you is thankful you’d figured it out and seen it earlier in the day, because you know that if the first time you saw it was when Sera showed you then your following reaction would have given you away instantly as the author. Of course, you didn’t know why that would be a bad thing— she was your best friend, this was the kind of shit you should be telling each other. You supposed you just weren’t emotionally prepared enough for the embarrassment that would follow your recount of events. So, it is a confession that can wait until another day when you’re less… vulnerable.

Eyes narrowing at the post displayed before you, you glare at the number that displays reactions and comments. It’s gotten bigger, much bigger, since you last checked, and you don’t like that at all. A sense of betrayal fills you at the thought of the student population doing you dirty like this— are you not bros in suffering? Where is the solidarity? The sisterhood? The brotherhood? The sting of this betrayal is not one that you will forget anytime soon.

You make a discontented noise around the food in your mouth, one that Sera misinterprets as one of incredulity and interest, and wallow in a distinct feeling of regret as she immediately takes it as a signal to let her building excitement flow. This is probably the most interesting thing that has happened for her all semester, you don’t doubt she’s going to hold onto it for a while— you can only hope and pray the same won’t be the case for everyone else.

“Some poor soul in our writing course accidentally emailed their assignment to the entire cohort, and then from there someone must have leaked it and submitted it to the CCU Love Letter page,” Sera whispers, as though she’s spilling trade secrets to you. Her words make it seem like she feels sorry for the idiot that has messed up so badly— little did she know that idiot is you— but the expression displayed on her elfish features is anything but sympathetic. It is excitement and a tinge of something else that gleams in her eyes, but you choose not to dwell on it for the sake of your sanity. You feel like you’re going to implode.

“God,” you begin after finally swallowing the gargantuan mouthful you’d taken before, like the idiot you’re gradually proving yourself to be. “That’s so… I feel so bad for them, whoever they are…”

Sera doesn’t even notice the awkward nature of your weak attempt at contributing to conversation, too busy scrolling through her phone— a quick peek tells you she is reading through the comments on the post. You resist the urge to smack the phone out of her hands. You’re a rational being, you’re above such caveman instincts.

“It sucks for them,” she agrees, once more completely unsympathetic. You can’t say you’re surprised; Sera is the type to develop tunnel vision of sorts whenever it comes to the latest bit of gossip or news across campus. “But god, it’s so juicy… I wonder who shared it— I wonder who wrote it?”

Wisely, you choose this moment to take another, perhaps unwisely-sized, bite of your second breakfast. Sera drums her fingers against the flesh of her cheek as she skims through the comments once more, making a sliver of irritation prick your insides.

“Is this what everyone is talking about?” you query, unable to help your next line of questioning. “Why is everyone so hyped up about it?”

Sera hums, bright eyes flicking from her screen to meet your own. You think she looks perhaps a bit too gleeful considering her best friend is suffering immensely at this current point in time, but then again… it’s not like she knows.

“Don’t you see it?” she asks, tinted lips curling. She pauses only to flick her finger over her screen, scrolling through the ridiculous plethora of comments under the post. “It’s like a modern-day rom-com storyline! Everyone is rooting for the mystery author and their ‘one true love’, and the fairytale ending that is bound to result… I’m pretty sure if people had any idea who the author was there would be OTPs and ships already, to be honest.”

Her words have a shudder of horror rolling down your spine before you can stop it, but thankfully her attention is otherwise occupied with the comments once more.

“Touching…” you attempt to smile but can feel it come as more of a grimace, the panic from earlier beginning to return at even the slightest mention of a hypothetical situation where your identity is revealed. “I suppose that would be kind of romantic…”

Sera hums, nodding, and spears the juice-box you didn’t even realise she had with an alarming amount of vigour. Her grin bunches her cheeks as she faces you again. “I’m dying to find out who the author is and who they wrote the poem about, though!”

With a slightly sickening feeling in your stomach, you take another hasty bite of your food. “Mmhm, me too.”

Is it too late to flee the country?

x x x

By the time your ‘brunch’ with Sera ends and you’re making your way to your next class, you’re fighting the imminent return of the anxiety and panic from earlier. You feel a little high-strung, admittedly, and you’re sure that anyone who passes you in the halls must get the message to give you a wide berth. Resiliently, you continue to console yourself with the fact that no matter your paranoia and fear, no one knows it was you who wrote it. You cling to this a bit like a lifeline, and while a part of you acknowledges that isn’t a very healthy way of dealing with the situation the other parts are living la vida fucking loca and dancing on the precipice of a cliff, the edge of which reveals the possibility of a minor mental breakdown. You’re far too tired to be dealing with this shit but karma got its kiss for you, you guess. What the hell did you even do to deserve this again?

It’s as you near the room where you attend your History of Music class that your attention is wrought from your depressing inner monologue and drawn to a slight commotion in the small seating area to the side. Unsurprisingly, the first person you see is the tall noodle of a man that usually haunts the halls of the musical arts building— surprisingly, the second thing you see is that he’s currently surrounded by a gaggle of girls and guys alike, who flock around him in a manner not all that dissimilar to the way reporters yap at people walking up the steps to a courthouse. You squint, wondering if you were seeing things— since when was Kim Namjoon this popular? Did he commit some blasphemous act forbidden to university students? You once heard he attempted to cut a fruit with the blunt side of a knife, but you didn’t think that counted as a crime against the university— that was more of a crime against common sense sort of thing.

As you walk past, pace quickening because that is one mess you most certainly want no part in from the looks of it, you catch a few of the words thrown into the air. Brows furrowing in confusion, you hasten your steps even more in accordance with the sudden shred of alarm tickling your ribs. The questions the students, who in all honesty look like a bunch of first-years, are throwing at him are all about the moon, and to the odd stranger nearby probably sound like nonsense. To you though… let’s just say that after the events of today so far you have a healthy dose of fear already coursing through yours system and aren’t about to risk your face being caught anywhere near that line of questioning no matter how ridiculously paranoid it made you seem.

“Hey, not to be rude but, uh, I kind of have somewhere to go…” you catch Namjoon’s low register as you zoom past, unable to resist the urge to spare him a brief glance out of curiosity. There are men and women grabbing at his clothes like lost children and he has a look of complete and utter alarm, mixed with a bit of befuddlement, as he attempts to pry their grip off. “Please… my reputation is at stake— HEY, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TOUCHING—”

Unfortunately for you, your haste to leave the scene means that you’re entering your classroom, the door clicking shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the ensuing struggle, before you can catch what happens next. Angry at yourself for moving too fast for once, you move to your usual seat in a similar manner to a sulking toddler and settle in for the lesson. The teacher arrives soon after and you wish you could say your attention was stolen from the scene you’d just witnessed but alas, today was not the day your poor, weathered professor finally received your complete and undivided attention.

For once, the lesson that usually drags on passes quickly, although you think this probably has something to do with the fact that you weren’t paying attention like, at all. Which for you wasn’t unusual, but you were particularly distracted today— understandably so— and you were in all honesty surprised that your teacher hadn’t called you back to earth at any point in the lesson.

Pointedly ignoring the chatter and topic that is becoming so hauntingly familiar to you as the day wears on, you attempt to reassure yourself again as you depart the room once the class has ended. Everything is fine, this is just a temporary fad, a brief trend. It will die down soon like all trends do, surely.

You aren’t sure if you could have really convinced yourself of that completely, but the further into the day you get the wearier you become. As the day continues, you also begin to notice an increasing number of weird incidences. You haven’t touched your phone since this morning and, quite frankly, refuse to until you get home— at which point you will clear your alarms and attempt to sleep through your problems and the entire weekend. Just barely do you resist the urge to pull out your phone when, on the way to your next class, you see a large gathering of people in the lush, green courtyard area outside the older part of the campus. Slightly concerned, you eye the group when you catch sight of them in between columns, the fact that you’re a little pressed for time being the only thing stopping you from halting in the middle of the path and squinting to see better.

You nearly stumble in your steps though, when you finally discern what is going on. What you thought might have been a pop-up food stall or a club gathering was actually a tall male— who you quickly recognised as one of the campus heartthrobs, Kim Seokjin— who appeared to be holding court over the small mass of people that had gathered before him. You couldn’t shut your mouth it dropped so far open in incredulity at what you were seeing as the male yelled something indiscernible and stepped up onto— onto a stool?— and began gesturing emphatically, as though he was a fresh hire presenting his first pitch in front of company executives.

Coming back to your senses somewhat, you try to shut your mouth and turn on your heel, returning to your original path, as quickly as possible. You’re pretty sure his brand of idiot is contagious and you aren’t willing to hang around and find out if it’s airborne. A part of you desperately wants to know what the theatre major is being so dramatic over, but the remainder reminds you that he’s a theatre major and therefore prone to being dramatic about anything and everything he can get his hands on. You pointedly ignore the tiny minority in your mind that whispers suspiciously that god, what if he was talking about the poem?

Nope, he isn’t. Not a chance. You’re safe because the poem is in writing and you’re eighty-five percent certain Seokjin doesn’t know how to read.

Your next class passes in a little bit more of an anxious haze than the last, and you should be relieved because it’s technically your last class of the day but, unfortunately, your current source of income takes the form of tutoring sessions that occur three days of the week and are held in the closest library to the edge of campus that you leave from. Considering that, despite your two hour block of tutoring that you have yet to get through, you have finished classes for the day, your mood is considerably lifted. As well as that, you’ve either grown very good at blocking the voices out or people have finally stopped gossiping about your stupid poem. Regrettably and unbeknownst to you, the part of you that deep down knows the latter is most definitely not the case would soon be proven right.

The soft scent of vanilla and caramel isn’t one you’d traditionally associate with a library, but thanks to the soft-spoken library worker that resides in the one you frequent it’s a scent that greets you often. The young student enjoys having a nice-smelling work environment and you’re not one to complain; while you like the smell of books and paperback you hate the musty undertones that accompany it in libraries. The second you step foot into the library, somewhat early for your first session, your gaze first zeroes in on the table you usually take, free for you to plop your ass in once more, and second onto the tall form of the boy behind the front desk. You decide to throw him a quick greeting on your way over, for once momentarily distracted from the prominent problem that has followed you through the day.

“Hey, Koo!” you throw a smile over your shoulder as you pass the desk, missing the way the boy startles and drops the thick textbooks in his hold all over the desk. You hear the noise though, and when you turn back the boy, Jungkook, is flushed bright blossom pink and hurrying to bend and gather the scattered tomes. Embarrassed that you scared him so badly he dropped absolutely everything in his grasp, you hurry to take your seat and duck out of view. God, can you please just catch a break today? You’re not asking for much, just a little reprieve from the all-encompassing humiliation that’s been dragging after you like a second shadow all day.

Settling into your seat and avoiding looking back to the front desk like the plague, you bring out the books and materials you’ll need— your first client is a bright-eyed, bright-smiling boy whose name the whole campus pretty much knows thanks to a somewhat hilarious incident that ensued in his first year and had you instantly very easily convinced to stay away from moonshine when looking to get drunk off your face. His sunshine-y disposition meant that what would have been crippling for the social wellbeing of anyone else, had actually turned him into one of the most well-known and popular students that attended the university. It is incredible and you are in awe of it, but have yet to crack the code of exactly how he did it. In all honesty at this point you’re willing to accept that it was just part of his nature that had people loving him unconditionally.

The peace and quiet of the library is more than welcome at this point, and you are able to enjoy it without qualm for a good few minutes before your still-racing mind begins to get antsy. You’re not one that deals well with boredom or being patient for extended periods of time, and you got here early enough before the session that its too much time to pass quickly and not enough to spend doing anything meaningful, like studying. You consider your options for a moment, pondering your last resort. It isn’t the most appealing idea right now, but the thought of sitting in boredom for another however-long-it-took-Hoseok-to arrive is even more unappealing. It is for this reason that you finally cave and reach into your bag, pulling out the phone that has remained untouched since early morning. The screen lights up and regrettably unlocks before you can read the notifs, thanks to the over-eager facial recognition feature your phone has. Deciding to just bite the bullet, you open facebook and click the post to survey the damage so far.

Instantly, you are filled with regret. You don’t know how but the stupid thing has become even more popular since the last time you saw it, and to your absolute horror not only has the reactions and comments increased but also the number of shares. Wincing and regretting your choice of schooling, you allow your finger to press somewhat shakily onto the ‘view more’ option in the comments. Your screen adjusts to fit more into view and you don’t get very far before you’re freezing in your seat, heart stuttering anxiously. There, in the body of the most popular comment, is a link— your stomach sinks as you press it, swallowing heavily. What are you about to see, did someone post a response to your poem? Are people making fun of you? Of your shitty, sappy writing? You wait with bated breath as the page finally loads.

You nearly throw your phone.

Just as you feared, the link leads to a post made in a forum on one of the most popular sites that students at this university used to keep up to date on things that were usually dumb or none of their business, aptly named ‘CCU Campus Stalker Space’. It is the first post in a subforum labelled, “Mystery Moon Author & Their Mystery Muse”, and a feeling of nausea begins to rise within you before you even read the first word.

‘posted by u/triceratops [12:36PM]:

unless you’ve been living under a rock all day, you’re bound to have seen or heard about the latest drama to take the campus by storm. it has been learnt from various sources that in the early hours of this morning a poem was sent to the entire cohort of a creative writing course, presumably by accident, and then leaked to the CCU Love Letters page where it has since taken off and gone viral among the students. the questions on everyone’s minds right now are no doubt the same— who is the author, and who is the subject of this lovely poem? well, that’s what we aim to find out, and that’s what i have dedicated some time to figuring out this fine friday. this thread will be dedicated to getting to the bottom of this mystery, and finding the answers we all want, as well as bringing about the happy ending we’re all rooting for! now, please find below my analysis on the poem and the situation, and the connections i have been able to make thus far ^^’

Distantly, you feel your breath quickening slightly as your chest begins to pinch, wide eyes locked on the screen as you continue to read as though in a trance. Your fingers grip the pen in your hold so hard that it threatens to snap and still, you can’t stop reading— even as abject horror begins to seep into your abdomen and slide over your insides like slick ichor and oil.

‘after analysing the poem extensively, there is one clear theme that surfaces frequently throughout; that of the sky, the stars, but most importantly— the moon. evidence and instances of this will be attached in the post below this, but before that i will say that, taking into consideration the various personalities and reputations attending this university, i have been able to narrow potential subjects/muses of the poem down to seven people. each of them is tied to the moon in some form or another, leading me to include them in this shortlist— i will include my reasoning in the post below this along with the other information. without further ado, here are the seven people i believe to be strong candidates for possible subjects of the poem by our mystery author;’

You want nothing more than to stop reading, to throw your phone and flee the scene, yet you cannot stop— each word your eyes rake over hammers home a feeling of dread and horror that swirls with the distinct sensation of regret within you. One after the other, the names listed below the paragraph you just finished punch out the remaining shards of your sanity and ground them to bits.

‘Kim Seokjin’

Your teeth sink into your lip, gripping at the flesh anxiously.

‘Min Yoongi’

You feel kind of faint, hints of the panic from earlier in the day brushing your senses.

‘Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon’

The slightest sting of pain registers in the back of your mind from the pressure with which your fingers are gripping the table increases, knuckles turning white.

‘Kim Taehyung’

Each name your eyes pass over brings you closer to the section that has an undercurrent of fear thrumming in your veins.

‘Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook’

Your brain almost refuses to let you read the next part, still reeling over the information it just recieved, but as though you’re in a haze your eyes continue to roll down the screen anyway, thumb scrolling absently.

‘these are the candidates i believe most likely to be the subject of the poem. before we explore further on that, i will list those i have narrowed down as potential authors. the list of students in the writing course is vast, but i have been able to discern the most likely few— only 115 of the 423 students in the course submitted their assignments by email, and of those only 12 were in the class that had the deadline that aligns with the time the author’s email was sent. here are the possible authors of the poem;

Jodi Figuro Lee Melody Sarna Sinter Lee Sera…’

Impatient and desperate to prove yourself and your worst suspicions wrong, your eyes skip ahead, scanning frantically. To your absolute horror, you find exactly what you were looking for, exactly what you feared.

‘and finally; y/n l/n.’

For a moment your mind is silent, buzzing almost like a fluorescent light in a classroom, and then the information fully registers and you kind of want to hurl. The last of your sense and sanity is thrown out the window, food for dogs, and you shoot from your seat, cramming your belongings back in your bag. Oh god oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no—

This can’t be happening— it is happening, oh good lord you’re a good person why is this happening to you? You shouldn’t have sent that stupid email in the state you were in, hell you probably shouldn’t have even written that poem in the first place. Now it’s a mess, a big, massive mess and oh god you can’t even console yourself because now you’re a suspect! Now people think you might be the one who wrote the poem! And you are! But people cannot know that! You nearly trip over the chair in your haste to flee. You want to go home, oh lord do you want to dive beneath your covers and perish in the suffocating comfort of their embrace. Is that too much to ask? You really don’t feel like you’re asking too much—

“Hey, y-y/n are you okay—”

You jump so badly at the sound of a voice behind you that you nearly throw your bag into their poor, undeserving face. The abrupt spin you perform on your heels has you facing who you quickly realise is Jungkook, who you rationally know works here and has likely come over out of concern, but all your brain can think at the sight of him is SUSPECT and suddenly your fight or flight instinct is decisively engaged.

“No! Y-yes!” your brain isn’t fast enough to catch up to your mouth, brain cells on their absolute last fucking legs. “It’s not you!”

Poor Jungkook stares at you with a look of complete and utter befuddlement, whipping out the puppy eyes that usually have you caving when he asks for help sorting textbooks at the desk but right now you’re a shell of a woman, a ghost of who you were this morning before all of this, and you can barely summon coherent thought let alone carry a conversation.

“I— what?” the boy is stuttering but you’re three seconds away from a mental breakdown wherein you scream and dig a hole to shove your head in the dirt like a disillusioned ostrich and you can’t handle this right now.

Your brain is running on a loop and the sad truth is that your speech isn’t much better. “Not!” you almost yell, voice at an absolutely inappropriate volume and pitch for a library. “Not you! It’s not you!”

You then have the sense of mind to flee while you can, and without further ado spin and bolt out of the library. If you can just get home in one piece you can gorge yourself on ice-cream, the expensive shit, and pretend none of this ever happened. Head in the sand, that’s where you want to be.

Unfortunately for you, it seems the universe has other plans. You don’t even make it out of the library before you run into the next person to push you closer to a mental breakdown.

“Woah, y/n, where are you going?” the alarm riddling Hoseok’s tone might have touched your heart on any other day, but right now you were too focused on your escape to appreciate the sentimental value of the moment. “We have a session right now? Hey, are you okay?”

You go to tell him that no, you are not, in fact, ‘okay’, but all that escapes you for a moment is a choked sound from the depths of your larynx. You don’t think Hoseok has ever looked as concerned for another person’s wellbeing as he does now, dark eyes wide and slightly frightened. Is it you? You feel like your head is about to explode, does it show?

“Nghgh…. Hoseok,” your voice is a little too high and it only serves to alarm the poor redhead even more. “For personal reasons… I will be cancelling away— passing today— away— I will have cancel. I’m s.. I need to go.”

Making the most of his current shocked-senseless state, you turn and begin to dash down the hall once more. Are you acting suspicious? God you hope not—

“y/n, wait—”

“IT’S NOT YOU!” you squawk in a mismatched response, scurrying down the hall as fast as your wobbly legs will take you. Each step you take is a step closer to home, each step you take is a step closer to home—

Careening around the corner of the library hall, only metres away from the glass double doors that mark the entrance, the last thing you expect is to almost run into two of the other people who are on that god forsaken list.

Kim Taehyung, with his artistically messy mop of light honey hair, is leaning against the wall that houses the vending machines. He appears to be mid-discussion with the shorter red-haired male before him that you know to be his friend, Park Jimin, who in all honesty you don’t think even goes here? You’re so close to the exit that you’re almost frothing at the mouth in relief yet you can’t help the way your eavesdropping little ears pick up on their conversation.

“Have you ever heard of this dude, Kim Nam— what was it? Kim Nam-Moom? Nam-Moon?” It is Jimin that is currently talking, gestures wild and emphasised as he shifts his weight and cocks the hip that has his hand on it. “Anyway whatever his name is that bitch has gotta go, there can only be one winning protagonist in this romcom and it’s gonna be me.”

Taehyung, who thankfully hasn’t seemed to catch sight of your wired form yet, slaps a hand to his chest as his mouth drops open. The part of you that isn’t running around and bouncing against the walls of your skull like a headless chicken thinks that he’d probably do pretty well in your Tuesday morning drama class, he has that sort of air.

“I’m on the list too?” he says, and points a finger at his friend, brows raising. You think the effect he is looking for with his expression is somewhere between heartbroken and accusatory and, oddly enough, he achieves it for the most part. His voice drips with challenge. “Are you gonna kill me, Jimothy, after all I’ve done for you?”

Admittedly, a particularly-wired part of you wants to burst into borderline hysterical laughter at hearing the male call Jimin, who is actually the second student you tutor every other day after Hoseok, something like ‘Jimothy’, but your instincts are still stuck on fight or flight and your poor brain gets stuck choosing between them. The end result is like when you can’t choose whether to say ‘have a good day’ and ‘goodbye’ and end up saying ‘have a goodbye’ instead.

Your first bet is to dart past and hope they don’t see you, but when you embark on that journey it takes all of a second for their gazes to move to you and for you to be, regrettably, caught out. Panicking, you halt to point at both of them and present your winning argument.

“It’s not either of you!” It comes out a garbled mess and you want to shrivel up and die already, but somewhat productively choose to instead channel that energy into your prompt escape from the scene.

Before either of them can even open their mouths and ask what you mean or, better yet, if you’re alright, you’re already bolting to the glass doors and darting through the first narrow gap big enough to fit you through it as they automatically open.

Realistically, you know that everyone is looking at you because you give off the energy that you’re about to have a mental breakdown and not because they know, or even suspect you’re the author. Even so, it feels as though everyone’s eyes are on you at once and you suddenly feel extremely paranoid, making the executive decision to shortcut through a building in an effort to escape the weight of their gaze.

Lady Luck has truly scorned you and thrown you to the dogs, you know this because the second you step foot into the building, the glass door not even having time to slide shut behind you, you’re being pulled to the side and hands are gripping your shoulders.

“y/n! Please tell me I need to know.” To your utter shock and horror it’s Namjoon that has you in a panicked death-grip and you want to fall back and let the wind carry you away to a place where none of this is happening to you. You’ve hardly come to terms with the fact you’ve managed to so far run into five of the seven candidates mentioned in that stupid post when he continues, shaking you a little. His eyes are wide and filled to the brim with concern, but for what you will never know.

“Do I look like a Nam-boob to you?”

A scream bubbles in your throat before you have the presence of mind and self-control to stop it, and you yank yourself from his hold with a shriek. You don’t even have the capacity to process how dumb what he just said is, nor the energy for the incredulity that would follow. All you can manage, mind stuck on the fact that he was listed as a possible candidate and you cannot have him thinking he is the subject of the poem, is a sharp, warbled, “IT’S NOT YOU, EITHER!”

With that, you leave him standing in place, wide-eyed and slightly scared as you tear off down the hall like a madwoman. In your haste to flee and the result of your poor decision-making earlier, you don’t even realise you’ve entered a building you’re completely unfamiliar with until it’s too late. Relief floods you as you find an exit, finally, and you bolt from the building as quick as your legs can take you.

You emerge onto the grassy area that you’d passed by earlier, bag slipping from your shoulder almost as you register the throng of people dispersing from the centre of the area— you choose to ignore it for the sake of your current mental state. Perhaps unwisely, you take this as a moment to catch your breath and adjust your bag, but evidently it is a moment too long because barely a split-second later there is another all-too-familiar voice greeting your ears and making you jump five feet into the air.

“y/n?” The voice is coloured with surprise and you turn, a knowing horror lurking in the pit of your abdomen, to see the one and only Kim Seokjin standing before you. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of your face and the confirmation it is, indeed you. He is apparently blind to your frazzled appearance, you note this because he immediately continues like nothing is amiss in your current high-strung presentation.

“Aw, y/n, you literally just missed the greatest TEDtalk of my career, perhaps even all time,” his plush lips are tugging into a shit-eating grin and you can feel your last brain cells, the final frontier, depleting just looking at him. “You see, I just brought around thirty-something people to see the light on why I am the true subject of the moon poem. Don’t worry though, the next session will start soon, you didn’t miss out. I’m actually booked out until about eight PM so you’re kind of lucky—”

A muted sound, awfully akin to a sob, escapes you, but the pink-haired male doesn’t even notice, too busy enjoying the sound of himself talking. He turns to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. Compassion drips from his features, brows furrowed as he places a hand on his heart.

“I understand you must have heard the news late and rushed straight here to hear my piece… fear not young padawan for I am nothing if not a humanitarian always willing to help those in need.”

“You’re so stupid,” you finally manage to dislodge the incredulity holding your tongue in place and your words come out in a sob. You slap your hand to your face as your eyes genuinely sting with tears. “You’re so— so stupid oh my god, I’m going to kill you—”

It’s like the fucker is deaf to anything that isn’t praise and compliments because he’s not even remotely phased by your words. The simper that curls his lips kind of makes you want to throw your fist in his face but instead you turn on your heel, choosing to be the bigger woman.

The sensible thing to do would be head in the direction you need to go to get home, but you’re currently too focused on the need to escape and instead end up darting across the field into another building. If the universe won’t let you go home then you guess you’ll just lock yourself up in a janitor’s closet or something for some reprieve. You hear Seokjin yelling after you as you make a hasty retreat, despite your best efforts to block him out.

“Should I book you in for a later session? y/n? HEY COME BACK YOU KNOW I NEED PRAISE AND VALIDATION DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE WITHOUT GIVING IT TO ME—”

The firm thud of the next building’s doors closing behind you might just be the best sound you’ve heard all evening. Eager to put even more distance between you and Seokjin, you start to move once more. Idly, you recognise the building as the one next to the engineering centre— the architecture building? You know this part of campus is actually close to the dorms you used to stay in, but the realisation isn’t as comforting as you wish it was.

Feeling like an absolute shell of a woman at your complete and utter witt’s end, you scrape your feet down the halls with all the energy of a tired victorian-era ghost. Closet, or a classroom? Which is a better place to have a mental breakdown? If you don’t cry soon you’re worried the suppressed tears are going to leak out your pores, and you really don’t want to look or feel like you’re sweating a monsoon’s worth of tears. Realising that classrooms come with the risk of students entering whenever they please, you settle on the next closet you see embedded into the wall. It’s a room deep into the bowels of the building, not too far from the bathrooms you accidentally stumbled upon last time you were here. The sight of it brings a morsel of hope amongst the trauma the day has brought you and you think any minute now you’re really going to cry from the stress. The thin plaque near the top of the door informs you that this particular closet houses cleaning supplies and you’re not really in a position to be picky so you take what you can get.

Eager for the next best thing besides the sweet release of death— complete and utter solitude, for anyone wondering— you waste no time in gripping the handle and yanking the door open. Usually you’d rather tear your own toes off and feed them to the monstrous fish in the lake than trespass into a cleaning closet but you’re truly a hair’s breadth away from total mental collapse and at this point in time you could care less. You should have known that the universe wasn’t going to let you choose a damn closet in peace.

As you swing the door open with enough force that the hinges squeak, there are several things that come immediately and alarmingly to your attention. First, is the light hanging from the ceiling which is already on and humming softly. Second, is the tall old-school mop leant against one of the walls in the small space, a pair of mismatched googly eyes slapped onto the twisted bundles of thread that hang limply, despondently, on the side of the mop not pressed against the wall. Third, the closet reeks of must and sweat and a sneeze is already building in your nostrils when you realise the fourth and fifth, arguably the most alarming, details about the closet.

You’re not alone in the space and the male standing kind of slumped against the wall, momentarily frozen and staring at you with wide eyes, is someone very familiar to you. Min Yoongi, your old RA from when you were staying in the dorms last year, stands like a deer caught in headlights before you— your gaze trailing the length of his pale arm leads you to the fifth and final discovery that, arguably, is probably the one that finally pushes you over the edge. Your brain flatlines and heat floods your face so unbearably you feel like your head is about to tip off your shoulders.

It would seem as though you’ve walked in on Min Yoongi having a bit of good, old-fashioned one-on-one time with Min Jr.

The two of you stand in silence for a few seconds as the situation sinks in, your eyes unable to remove themselves from where they are fixed on his Min Sceptre until you forcibly tear them away. It’s only as your cheeks burn and your gaze flicks shamefully between his face and where his hand stays frozen mid-stroke that Yoongi seems to realise you’re not an apparition and indeed he’s been caught with his literal hand down his literal pants— well, they’re open and halfway down his legs but you get the idea.

For some reason, the male doesn’t think to tuck away his junk before he begins speaking in defence of himself and his actions. It hangs loud and proud still engaged and engorged, ready for battle, as he sputters in an attempt to form a response.

“It’s not- not what it looks like— actually,” the shamed expression that had contorted his features quickly twisted into one of indignance; shamefully you note that he’s still full-mast and not looking like he’s about to lower any time soon. “It’s exactly what it looks like. What, you want me to say sorry? Can’t a man jerk his gherkin in peace? I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

Your mouth drops open, brain still decisively flatlining and out of commission for probably the next few days, and the male continues on, his free hand flying into the air to gesture emphatically while the other remains in a trusty grip around the long balloon that still— still— doesn’t look like it’s going to deflate anytime soon. “I just need five minutes— five minutes! — without a freshman asking me for some god damn fucking TOILET paper, alright?”

You really can’t help but wonder, how is it that he’s still got such impressive blood flow to his lower region despite the situation and his rapid, indignant defence. He drops into silence for a moment, dark eyes looking at you expectantly. You’re still speechless.

“Well?” he prompts, his free hand resting on his hip in a posture similar to that of a middle-aged mother with a can-I-speak-to-your-manager haircut scolding her misbehaving child. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I…” you feel kind of faint, too much blood rushing to you head, and struggle to formulate a fitting response— and really, what the hell can you say in response to this? He’s still standing there with his dick out! His DONG-saeng! His home-grown churro! Is he not embarrassed, at all? How is he still fully pumped and rearing to go?! “Y… p-pee- peen—”

“Go on, do you have anything to say about rudely walking in on me at such a crucial moment? Mop-ssi here was about to get to the good stuff, do you have any idea—”

For the first time since you’d entered the closet, Yoongi releases his grip on his ramrod serpent and your gaze is caught, once more, as it bounces heavily in the air. All the remaining blood in your body rushes to your head and you have a moment of realisation that you’re about to literally pass out, right before you do. At least, you think as your vision fades to black and the last thing you see is Min Jr winking at you salaciously, at least you were finally getting some reprieve from the nightmare this friday turned into. When you wake everything will be fine, this will be just a dream. It’s fine, it’s all over now.

Unfortunately for you it is, in fact, not over.

— • masterlist | intro | next • —

[please like & rb and pls pls pls let us know what you think!! <3 thank u for reading!]

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kitkatpancakestack · 3 years

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ya'll I'm so sorry but I'm about to go tf off again about this damn weewoo show and these dumb coparenting firefighters.

I can't keep track over what's been discussed already and what hasn't, but I'm freaking out over my re-watch of 4x08 (Breaking Point). I could probably write 25k words on that episode alone and maybe this will be a multi-part post, but I don't want to set the precedent that I'm organized so this will be some more word vomit thrown into the void.

The rest under a cut so you can ignore my hiatus crackheadery if you wish:

Alright, so whoever is still here, I want to talk about three specific scenes in Breaking Point that happen in succession. They are as follows:

1. Eddie's talk with Chris about Ana

2. Buck's awkward double date with Taylor

3. Christopher running away to Buck

Firstly, what I do remember is an excellent meta by @jackles-coded (and they do have some excellent posts about 9-1-1) about this episode and how Albert/Veronica were proxies for Eddie/Ana, so definitely go check that out for a deeper dive. Sorry I don't have the direct link :(

Alright, let's get into this nonsense:

Eddie's talk with Chris about Ana

There are some interesting choices in this scene for sure. We're going to be talking about the usage of the word friend. In this scene, Eddie talks to Christopher about the friend he mentioned before, which Christopher gives a god-tier side-eye to, before Eddie specifically follows up by saying his friend is a woman, in which Christopher proceeds to go ape shit. The end of this scene shows Eddie holding his face with his right hand. There's a shot of LA before the next scene, but the first shot in that scene is a close-up of Buck's right hand, before it zooms out to show the rest of him. Listen, I don't know if this is tinhattery or not, but what a subtle way to connect these two scenes. Which brings us to . . .

Buck's awkward double date with Taylor

The song playing in the background as this scene opens, I know we all know it by now: Where Do We Go by Beauty Queen. In case you don't know, have some lyrics:

I wanna know there will be someone else for you / Cuz I can't stand making plans without you / where do we go when there is nothing left to do / cuz I'm wondering, wondering / where do I go when I stop running? / Will I have a place for my heart to stay? / Don't wanna end up one day with nothing / Where do I go when I stop running

When I return will it have been too many days / spent too long trying just to get away / feeling low and I know you can relate / cuz I'm wondering, wondering / where do I go when I stop running? / Will I have a place for my heart to stay? / Don't wanna end up one day with nothing / Where do I go when I stop running

Speaks for itself, right? It's actually driving me insane.

Not only is this obviously about Buck and Taylor, but this song being placed immediately after the scene with Eddie implores me to parallel it to Eddie's situation with Ana as well.

The scene continues, Taylor spits that unforgiveable bullshit at Buck, causing him to revert to Buck 1.0 before our very eyes. And again we have the usage of the word friend: "Because I could really use a friend right now," says Taylor. Leaving Buck looking dejected, and leading right into the next scene which is . . .

Christopher running away to Buck

So we go from Taylor leaving Buck behind to a scene with Ana trying to peace out herself, but Eddie asking her to stay. And we know what happens: Chris takes an Uber (???) to Buck's and Dad!Buck jumps out for a hot second. We have Buck assuring Christopher that he will always be there for him, and then again the use of friend: "You're a good friend [Buck]."

Listen, I'm sorry (not sorry), but these three scenes happening one after the other, connected the way they are, with an obvious theme about "friendship" and what does it mean and when does it lead to something more, threaded through each scene? What was the reason? What is the endgame here?

The episode altogether, but especially these three scenes, are so loud. The writers really tipped their hands for us, but again, I don't think it's something you catch on the first or second viewing. This plotline was entirely about Buck and Eddie. They have their little moment together at the beginning (which is an entire meta to itself), but they are intentionally separated throughout the rest of the episode. It was about them blindly following the paths they thought they were supposed to travel, ignoring the obvious signs of where they should be going. I am beside myself. These writers . . . .

4.08 is a gold mine, someone dig into this nonsense with me please.

#buddie #parallels #buddie meta #meta by me #the writers are insane #the writers are unhinged #this episode is a literal soap opera #Buck and Eddie chasing after these women #acting so angsty and unhappy #while they are steadfastly supporting each other and acting like a blatant fucking family #jfc all i want is a moment of peace #they are soulmates #someone should tell them that though #missing the signs they are #hiatus crackheadery

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dolphin-enthusiast · 4 years

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hey there, waifu's brother here with updates!! waifu anon is okay, she is staying in the hospital, and will most likely be discharged tomorrow!! she doesn't have c*vid-19, she just has a weaker immune system and a variety of health problems, so this is normal for her!! i decided i'll write ya a letter on her behalf, so here's what went down today: 1/4

"i snuck in my laptop while she was sleeping and set it up so i could help her play The Last of Us, since she seemed interested in it! despite it not being her normal choice in video games, she loves it so far,, she has fun taking out the zombies and will cry at any sad cutscene, plus she loves the main characters, joel and ellie,, whenever something bad happens to them, she always goes on and on about how much she wants to give them a hug 😁 2/4

we also raced down the hallways, me pushing a wheelchair she was in, and i stole some snacks from the dining halls for her when our parents weren't looking lmao,, oh and also she tells me to tell you that she misses everyone (even though she's been gone for one day) and that these funny asks are cheering her up!! she promises to be back tomorrow and asks that you take care of yourselves for her! 3/4

she loves you all and hopes you guys have a good day! -on behalf of waifu anon, brother waifu ps: she told me to write: "love you morgy!! stay safe darling and i'll cook [REDACTED] for you when i'm better 💖💕💗👀✨😍" with those emojis exactly 4/4"

Omg so much went down since yesterday djffhfbd tbh i had a slight feeling she was in the hospital by now since she didnt pop in today and yesterday she was saying that she was waiting @ the doctor...either way im glad it isnt the big bad virus (tm) and i can def relate to her weak immune system gang gang🗿🤙

AnYwAYs im very pleased to see that ur takin such good care of her and the fact that shes still thinking abt us while like this....shes way too pure fjchchdjd also i havent played the last of us but i can totally see her getting all emotional over games and movies in general lmao

And i should also say that yall d r i f t i n g down the halls is like the best image that came into my mind ever KSKDKS and speaking of chaotic crackheadery i shall keep on brightening her day up along w my followers👁️👀 get well soon darling🤪🤪🤪😩😩😤😤🔥🔥🔥😍😍

#the confessional #very kind of u to update us on the situation too like 😳😳😳#keep on being an absolute i c o n and take care of her for us😤👊

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nomnomsik · 5 years

Text

Hear no Evil | Pt. 1

Summary: Two sets of tenants—both living and deceased— living together under one roof? Sounds like the plot of a romcom. Mysterious occurrences baffle the married couple as they try to enjoy their summer vacation in their new home, the cause of the disturbances being two dysfunctional ghosts in a love-hate relationship. So what disasters will the newly wedded couple face when one of the ghosts is not only a murderer but a creepy pervert?

Pairing: Chemist!Yoongi x Fem!Reader and Ghost!Taehyung x Ghost!Reader

A/n: A collaboration with @kimseokmomjins , cross-over between her one-shot “See no Evil” and @nomnomsik and her “To Catch a Dream” series. For the best experience, please be familiar with both works as there are many references, as well as small easter eggs from both stories!

Word Count: 4.3K out of 9.6K

Trigger warnings: mentions of grief and guilt, smut smut smut smut (dirty talking), slight degradation, BDSM (shibari), ddlg, intentional pollution, dysfunctional relationships, cursing/profanity, and crackheadery.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Warmth.

A familiar, unforgettable warmth surrounded you as you lounged upon the windowsill, head tilted towards the sun. You desperately longed to be outside— to feel the sun’s rays as they kissed your skin, just like you did when you watched the sunrise with Namjoon. Now, the only respite you had was napping along the eastern window, as it was the closest you could ever get to the outside world.

Just as you felt yourself fall into a state of meditation, a violent shake startled your tranquility. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know the source of annoyance. “Leave me alone, Taehyung,” you groaned, forehead resting on the pane of glass. If you could see yourself, you probably looked more pitiful than relaxed.

“It’s urgent, sweetcheeks.”

“No, it’s not,” you retorted with hostility. Taehyung, being the selfish man that he was, often interrupted your alone-time by incessantly bothering you with his requests to paint you. Although you despised being the object of his affections, you reluctantly agreed to be painted, as it gave you something to do. But now, the novelty had worn off.

Taehyung shook you again, albeit this time with a bit more force. “I’m serious.” You opened your eyes with a huff, glaring daggers at the artist. “What is it?” Taehyung ignored your question and pulled you towards a window on the opposite wall, one that overlooked the parking lot. You peered out to see a young couple unloading boxes and suitcases from a moving truck, their playfulness reminding you of you and your husband when you first moved in.

You quirked an eyebrow in annoyance, “So?”

“So,” Taehyung began, pacing around the apartment, “these saps are gonna be moving in and disturbing our peace and quiet.”

“Again, I see nothing wrong with that, Taehyung. They’re just two newlyweds who want to start their life. Are you going to go and fuck that up too?” At your disinterested response, Taehyung grabbed your shoulders in a desperate attempt to convey his worries. “Y/N, you don’t understand. They’ll change everything about this place, about our home.”

“This isn’t our home, this was mine and Namjoon’s home!” You shoved past Taehyung, ignoring the endearing pucker of his bottom lip. “Baby, don’t give me the cold shoulder.” Before you could scold the artist, the front door swung open, the couple entering excitedly.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“Wow, the inside’s gorgeous! This is incredible!”

“I know, yours truly picked it.” Yoongi boasted proudly, a gummy smile on full display.

“Yoongi~” You cooed, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re so amazing! I love you so so much~” You gazed in awe as you scanned over the first floor. Your husband shot you a smirk, acting smug with his chest puffed out and his eyes closed as if bathing in a wave of glory. You ran ahead of him, your eyes looking at each corner of your new home.

The house was absolutely gorgeous, with its oak flooring and its foundations dating back to its original time period when it had been constructed. It was no surprise when you had heard Yoongi had gotten the deal, outbidding all the other offers for it. With his wallet, you weren’t surprised by the things he was able to accomplish. The location was incredible, at the heart of downtown, with cars always passing by through the streets.

A smirk had graced your lips, feeling pride swell in your chest when Yoongi had nonchalantly picked up the keys. What less did you expect from a couple whose families both came from money? You two worked hard to finally get whatever you wanted on a silver platter, yet the two of you were never regarded as pompous or stand-offish.

Much of the furniture had been left by the original tenant after having to leave abruptly, or that was what the realtor had told the two of you. As you eyed all the beautiful pieces that filled the living room, you walked back into the hallway, staring at the stairs that seemed to tower high above. The towering bookcase stood proudly, organized in alphabetical order, built into the staircase that led upstairs.

Your eyes widened as you stood in front of all its glory. As you brought yourself closer, your eyes scanned the many authors that lined up the shelves. A certain type grabbed your eye as you pulled it out from its slot, careful of the books to the right that sagged and on the verge of toppling over.

The Remarkable World of Crabs… You flipped it open, giggling at the cute crabs that were drawn on the cover page and on the dedication page. ‘To my wonderful fiance, to whom I love with my entire soul. Thank you for sticking with me despite my crab addiction.’ The ends of your lips curled up as you read his dedication, deciding to close the book and put it back on the shelf. Author, Kim Namjoon.

You marched upstairs, seeing Yoongi’s figure in the hallway as he pushed the moving boxes into the office room. Yoongi looked up, giving you a small wave, his face covered with a surgical mask in an effort to fight against the dust. As you entered the bedroom, you noticed the beautiful vanity that stood off to the side, with carvings that were carefully etched into the wood. However, as you moved closer, you jumped, seeing a shadow from the corner of your eye as you quickly turned around.

Your back collided into Yoongi as he sped walked in, duct tape in his hand, mumbling something under his breath, something about no space. As he slammed the closet door open, he glared at the sole box that sat there. He grabbed ahold of the box, tons of art supplies stacked on top of each other as he taped the top shut.

You followed and watched him in silence as he carried the box out of the bedroom and near the staircase. He threw the box down the stairs, watching it roll on the ground, closer to the entrance. With a quick slap of his hands, he brushed the dust off, sighing in accomplishment. He slipped off his black surgical mask, tucking it into his pocket.

He then turned his sights on the next room. You followed Yoongi as he entered the office space, his arms crossed staring at the furniture. Clutter was littered everywhere, with boxes and bags filled with trash.

“Who uses record players anymore?” He muttered as he neared the desk. “Whatever.”

You walked closer to the items, inspecting each one with a sort of thoughtfulness as to what the previous owner was like, owning all these possessions. Yoongi turned back to you, staring as you stood hunched over more garbage. With the record player in your hand, you turned around, only to meet Yoongi’s fixed stare. His eyes trailed down from your face, looking down at your peach-tinted lips and dreamy eyes. He hid his growing smirk, taking big strides over to you. You cocked your head to the side, looking at him confusingly before he swooped you into his arms.

“Ah!” You yelped, your feet coming off the floor as the record player stumbled onto the floor. “Y-yoongi…!” You whined, gently tapping his chest.

“Shh... I was going to give you a kiss, kitten.”

“I didn’t ask for one~” You retorted, your bottom lip jutting out.

“So you won’t accept one?” He pouted in return.

“No, I will~”

The two of you giggled as you tilted your head back, receiving Yoongi’s wet lips. He tasted like peaches with sweet vanilla mixed in, his hair tickling your skin as he carried you out of the office. The two of your lips moved in the bedroom, Yoongi’s arm inching closer and closer up the bottom of your thigh.

“We still have to finish unboxing our things, Yoongi…” You gasped as he broke away from you. Yoongi found it amusing that you wanted to reject him despite your flushed cheeks and wet lips, the look of your eyes only wanting more. Your breathing was rough and your body trembled in his grasp. Maybe he would humor you for a bit.

“Can’t that wait?” He pleaded, his eyes needy as they stared back at you.

“N-no” You whimpered, fighting his grip. With an overwhelming amount of strength, you pried yourself from his arms, running out of the bedroom and down the stairs, your feet thumping loudly on the wooden surface.

“Hey! Y/n!” Yoongi called, following you down, a smile on his face.

Laughter and stomping filled the house as Yoongi chased after you, his arms reaching for you but missing each time you were within grasp. As you turned the corner, Yoongi lunged at you, trapping you in his arms.

“Got you~” He cooed, kissing your neck. He successfully resisted your attempts to break free, tightly gripping you by your stomach. With a devilish grin, he brought his honeysuckle colored lips down to your ear. “Now we can continue, right kitten?”

You huffed, struggling to cross your arms in front of your chest. “You’re so horny. It’s a problem.”

“Since when was that a problem?” He joked, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s always been a problem because you’re so.” You stated as a matter of factly.

“And why’s that?” He acted dumb, toying for a moment longer. “Hmm? What’s wrong? Is it too embarrassing to say out loud?”

“You’re so annoying, Yoongi.” You blushed, trying to hide your face.

“Is it cause… I’m…. roug—”

Suddenly, you released a screech, your arms attacking both of his sides, tickling him. You took the opportunity to slip out, running back up the stairs in such a hurry that you’d probably win a 100-meter race. Yoongi recovered from your attack, his head snapping up as he climbed up the stairs again.

“Is it because I’m rough?!” He shouted from downstairs.

“Lalalala I can’t hear you, I have sunglasses on with airpods!” You countered.

“Come back, my love!” He yelled, imitating one of those cheesy k-dramas you used to watch.

“Shut up!” You yelled back, closing the door to the bedroom. Yoongi barged open the door, tackling you with his body. The back of your legs bumped into the mattress as you looked behind you and back at Yoongi. Yoongi grinned, boasting proudly.

“Seems like we’re going to be busy…”

You sighed, shaking your head back and forth. “If you insinuate one more sexual thing I swear…”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, my precious baby?” Yoongi cooed, wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t tell me you’re shy already…” Yoongi smirked, watching as your body jumped at his touch. You turned your head in the other direction, however, the blush on your cheeks gave you away. “Why don’t we have some fun, hmm?”

“Y-yoongi!” You blushed harder as Yoongi laid you until you were flat on the mattress. Yoongi gave you long kisses, both of your mouths moving together as you held onto him. As Yoongi’s hands roamed farther down your legs, he halted.

All of a sudden, a loud crash echoed throughout the room. You looked up confused, Yoongi joining in the confusion as a broken glass dish found itself on the bedroom floor.

“What the fuck.”

“How…?”

Yoongi sighed, standing up from the bed and walking toward the broken glass. He hopped over the accident, picking up a dustbin from the closet and sweeping the glass shards up. He descended down the stairs and into the kitchen, throwing the sharp pieces of glass in. You followed him as he carried the trash bag, his legs kicking several boxes out of the door.

He slapped on a black surgical mask dumping all the items onto the pavement before heading back inside of his apartment. You let him pass through into the home as you stepped out, ready for what was about to transpire. Shifting the worn out boxes so that they were sitting next to each other, you took a seat on the steps of the door, far away from the boxes.

Yoongi stepped out, his crisp white lab coat fluttering behind him in the wind and his safety goggles secured onto his face. His mask covered his mouth and in his hands, held a 72-pound flamethrower. From it’s full and sleek body to the intricate black detailing, the thing looked gorgeous.

“Let’s get toasting.”

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Both you and Taehyung studied the couple carefully, trying to figure out what kind of people they were. It was abundantly clear that the female was more observant— you noted that she found Namjoon’s first-ever published book, The Remarkable World of Crabs, and took an immediate interest in it. Your heart clenched slightly at the memory of Namjoon proposing to you in the book dedication. It was priceless, and you would surely be hysterical if the new tenants threw it away. Thankfully, she placed it back on the bookshelf, relieving you greatly.

The man, Yoongi, as you quickly learned, was much less benevolent than his wife. He was much too brusque and showed little regard for your possessions. You would be lying if you weren’t a little peeved at the fact that he insulted your vinyl collection. But Taehyung, on the other hand, was absolutely irate with the “disrespect” Yoongi had treated his art supplies with.

“Taehyung, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Did you not see how he threw my stuff down the stairs?” He sulked, following the pair as they chased each other around the house. “I’m gonna give them a taste of their own medicine.” He spoke in a matter of factly, smirking devilishly.

“Not on my watch you’re not. You’re going to leave them alone.”

Taehyung entered the bedroom with the air filled with intense sexual tension as the pair looked at each other, with the woman slowly backing down. He watched with excitement as the man pushed the smaller onto the bed, their lips caressing. As he turned around, he met your emotionless face, contrasting the way his brown eyes shined in elation.

“Why haven’t we kissed yet, baby?” His legs bounced up and down as he pointed at the pair like a child. He gripped each side of your shoulder, moving his face closer and closer to your lips. Your face twisted in disgust as you pushed him off you, your legs carrying you downstairs. Taehyung pouted, turning back to the bedroom as the pair now exchanged heated breaths and flirtatious looks.

As you came back upstairs, Taehyung immediately jumped back on you, his arms outstretched as he chased you in the hallway.

“Don’t you dare, Taehyung!” You seethed, trying to shove his body off. “Let me go! Ugh! Taehyung! Lemme go!”

“No! Please, toots. Just one kiss?”

“Enough!” You screeched, throwing a glass dish at him to which he dodged with ease. The glass shattered, breaking into sharp pieces as the pair broke out of their heated trance. They both looked over, shock and confusion laced in their faces. From the way their eyebrows knotted to how their eyes looked around in curiosity, Taehyung sighing at their lackluster reaction and your rejection.

“C’mon, don’t be such a bluenose,” he sulked, glaring Yoongi as he swept up the remnants of the shattered dish. “I wanted to see more, stuff was just getting hot and heavy.”

“You’re unbelievable sometimes.”

With as much elegance as a bull, the man roughly shoved the boxes out of the apartment and into the hallway. “Wait! What’s he doing with my stuff? Hey!” Taehyung whined, trailing behind the pair. You reluctantly followed suit, watching as the petite woman stacked the boxes together. There was a wave of relief as none of the boxes contained any of the things you and Namjoon had left behind. Maybe they too understood the importance of items left behind by another newly wedded couple.

You head turned back to the door as the older man stepped back inside, only to come out a few seconds later with a bulky item in his hands.

“Is that what I think it is—”

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

You clapped from your seat, watching as Yoongi pulled up the sleeves of his coat, showing off his build. His long veins popped out at you as you shamelessly stared at them, your mouth slowly watering. His arms carried a bulge of muscle, that tightened and stretched as he held and aimed the weapon. You watched as Yoongi tinkered with the flamethrower in his hand, clueless to his complex system of steps. Your chemist lover pulled several flaps on the device, checking the tank on his bag as the line was secured, before pointing the weapon at the boxes.

In a huge blast, flames poured out of the device, 15 meters in front of him until it caught the wooden boxes. Flashes of red and orange burst out in the open air, excreting a huge heat wave that warmed the atmosphere around them. Yoongi let out a laugh of joy, watching as the boxes broke down in an enormous flame. Your eyes widened in awe as you excitedly clapped in excitement.

“Hey!”

A voice came from the other side of the apartment, the owner of the whole complex.

“Are you trying to set this whole neighborhood on fire?!” He shrieked.

With the corner of his eye, Yoongi sent him a dirty glare, shutting off the flamethrower as the heat slowly died down. Yoongi put the weapon down, blowing the small embers out before staring at the owner. “So what if I did?” He shrugged nonchalantly in a cocky manner, brushing off the ash on his clean lab coat. “My wallet could handle it.”

“You crazy motherf—”

“Yoongi!” You cheered as he looked at your adorable posture on the steps. With your knees tucked into your chest and your two legs together, he suddenly forgot about his confrontation, reminded by just how cute you were. He gave you a triumphant pump in the air but soon had to redirect his attention back to the owner, his gaze hardening.

“What are you going to even do, owner?” He mocked, tilting his head back as he judgingly stared him down. “Who’s going to even buy this home anyways after all the news of the husband who murdered his own wife? You should be thankful to us.”

With that, he walked away from the speechless man and toward the burning flames that began to slowly die out. Yoongi looked over to you and you nodded, running inside the door and throwing a large red object at him. He caught it with both hands, pulling the pin and squeezing down on the handle that shot the contents of the fire extinguisher out. As he emptied it completely, he walked away from the pile of ashes, the wind blowing them out and far away in the air.

As Yoongi walked back to you, he undressed the blotched lab coat, completely covered in ash, shaking it in the wind. You walked inside with Yoongi, one of your hands locking with his as you quickly tottered down the hall and back into the warmth of your home. Yoongi threw his shoes onto the ground with a loud clap, rushing into the bathroom as he immediately started the shower.

You embarrassingly watched from the side as Yoongi lifted his shirt over his head, his hair fluffing out as he undressed. He turned back at you, tilting his head to the side and giving you a lopsided smile.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his arm reaching into the shower as his fingertips judged the temperature of the water.

“A-ah…” You blushed, looking at the tile flooring of the bathroom. “Is it okay if I join you as well? I’m a bit dusty…”

Yoongi’s smile widened as he giggled. “Of course you can. You always can. Come here, baby.” Your expression brightened as you threw your top onto the ground and quickly undid your pants, throwing everything onto the ground. Yoongi kept the shower curtain open, allowing you step in, your body shivering as you first made contact with the pouring water.

“Is it too cold? I can always adjust it.” His arms steadied you as your back met contact with his chest.

“No. I’m alright…” You gave him cute doe eyes as you turned around to look up at his face. You pushed your lips together, smiling, with your eyes scrunching. Yoongi grabbed a bottle of shampoo, squeezing the plastic container in his hand as he dozed a reasonable amount on top of your head. You giggled as his finger scrubbed into your hair follicles and swept loose strands behind your ear. Everything was soapy, from your head to his hands, Yoongi playfully wiped soap on your cheek.

After Yoongi finished up, you instructed Yoongi to bend his head down to do the same. As the water rinsed out all the soap, Yoongi’s fingers came to your chin, tilting your head up to connect your lips with him. Water poured onto the two of you as Yoongi slowly pushed you farther and farther closer to the shower walls with both of his hands coming up to your hips.

“Y-yoongi, not here…” You mumbled, thankful for the water to cool down the growing heat from your cheeks.

“But why not?” He whispered, connecting with your plump lips once again. “We did it before back at home and you didn’t seem to have a problem then…”

Your voice muffled in the intense passion of Yoongi’s kiss before breaking it off and panting. “That’s because…!” You started, clearing your throat. “Our home is different… There’s more space! A-also, you’re the one who got me all hot and bothered!”

Yoongi grinned, licking his lips as he approached you again. “But you let me, didn’t you? Who was the one that was begging for more, that was crying and whining like a slu—”

Suddenly a loud beep echoed in the bathroom, causing the two of you to jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that..”

The loud female voice of SIRI popped up, interrupting Yoongi’s advances as you both were taken aback.

“Did you-” You started, looking at him confusingly. He shook his head, wondering the same thing as you. His eyes darted left and right as he tried to devise an explanation for SIRI going off. As Yoongi dove into his thoughts, you took the time to slip out of the shower, drying your body off and sliding into comfort pajamas.

A few minutes later, Yoongi joined you in the living room, taking a seat next to you as you were snuggled with the pillows on the couch.

“Do you maybe think the shower set SIRI off? Or maybe, SIRI misheard one of our voices saying her name?”

You shrugged, not really thinking too hard about it. Yoongi brought you close to his chest as the two of you sat on the couch together, your head resting on Yoongi’s chest. Both of your legs locked with each other as a calming ambiance surrounded the two of you.

With your bodies close to each other, the fading scent of shampoo and soap caught onto the two of you. When the two of you finally did fall into a light sleep, you were both surrounded by each other’s warmth. Nothing had ever felt better than being wrapped in each other's embrace.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“O-oh m-my—” Taehyung dropped to his knees as he stared at the dying flames that had just incinerated all his precious memories and mementos. You let out a snicker which was lost on Taehyung, who was too stunned to even react. At least they didn’t touch any of yours and Namjoon’s things. Ah… Namjoon…

Nevertheless, you were puzzled by the couple. You were positive they were absolutely insane— selfish, deranged idiots who clearly never thought of the consequences of their little fun. Not only were they irresponsible, but ash blew everywhere as the winds carried it high. Environmental pollution would only further contribute to global warming.

“They’re crazy…” You muttered under your breath as the girl chucked a fire extinguisher, her husband securing it in his arms. “And who the hell even owns a personal flamethrower?”

Taehyung banged his head against the wall, bemoaning the loss of his mementos. “Forget the torch thing… That bastard just destroyed all my stuff! It was clearly art!” You lacked a single modicum of sympathy as you nudged Taehyung with the toe of your foot, assuring him he’d get over it.

The couple returned, ash covering them from head to toe. Despite them behaving like total lunatics, you found their domesticity oddly endearing, the joint decision to shower together making you smile fondly, recalling your own marital memories. With their affectionate speaking, eye contact, and gentle touches that you noticed lingered longer than they normally were, you felt as if your dead heart warmed up at the sight of the couple.

The moment the shower started, Taehyung perked up almost immediately, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Taehyung—” You warned, giving him a stern glare, which he returned his cheekiness of his own. He moved closer to the shower. “Taehyung! Don’t you dare think about watching them shower, you perv.”

“But sweets,” he huffed, fed up with your constant scolding. “I want to see~”

You stood your ground, unimpressed. “You’re so gross. No.” Taehyung leaned his ear against the door in concentration, attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation— or, intimate conversation— between the couple. He recoiled, disgusted at the filth Yoongi had whispered. “Why is he so crass? He should be poetic when he makes love to his woman, like for example I would talk about the suppleness of your—“

“SIRI how can I kill myself and make sure I don't reincarnate?”

An iPhone went off in the nearby bedroom, triggering SIRI to awaken and respond to your voice. The showering pair halted in their tracks, looking suspiciously around the bathroom, water pouring over the two of them.

Luckily for you, their intimate moment was interrupted, successfully giving you the necessary peace and quiet as the couple canceled all plans, preferring to cuddle in each other’s warmth on the couch.

[Part 2]

#yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #bts angst #bts crack #bts fanfiction #suga x reader #v x reader #yandere bts

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